#they would have to grovel for forgiveness if it were me

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʏ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Yandere HOTD x Targaryen Reader Part 2

Summary: After your mother's death, your life wasn't the same anymore. Everything was changing so fast and you were just watching.

Warning: Y/n herself is a warning.

Notes: English is not my first language. Gifs don't belong to me, credit to the owner. Hope you enjoy!

The air felt cool against her damp skin as she stood in front of the window, watching the distant glow of King's Landing beneath the night sky. Her body was still warm from the bath, the steam lingering in the room as it slowly dissipated, leaving behind the soft scent of lavender and rosewater.

She let her fingers trace the edges of the windowpane, feeling the cold, hard glass beneath her fingertips. It was quiet tonight—eerily so. The usual sounds of the city seemed muted, as if the world outside had gone still, holding its breath.

Her handmaid, Elira, stood behind her, gently brushing through her wet hair. The familiar rhythm of the bristles moving through her locks was soothing, almost meditative. Elira had always been there. Since the very beginning. They were the same age, but Elira had always known her place—quiet, loyal, obedient. Always there, always in the background, never faltering.

"It still hurts, you know... losing her." She spoke softly, her voice almost a whisper, more to herself than to Elira. She stared out into the dark horizon, her eyes distant. "Mother was... everything. The only person who truly knew me."

Elira didn't respond—she never did when it came to such things. She just kept brushing her hair, silent, attentive, like the shadow she had always been.

The ache in her chest intensified, a dull, ever-present throb that threatened to consume her. Who’s going to love me now? Her mother had been everything. The one person who had always been kind, always been gentle. And now, she was gone. The gods, if they even existed, had taken her away. Not just her mother, but her newborn brother as well.

Y/n blinked slowly, her eyes burning. Why did they take them? What kind of gods would do this? Why leave me behind with nothing? She couldn’t understand it, couldn’t process the emptiness that had swallowed her whole since that day. The pain was constant, gnawing at her insides like a beast that wouldn’t stop.

She hadn’t left this room since they told her. She hadn’t gone to the funeral. What would be the point? Rhaenyra had been the one to carry their mother’s body. She could have done that too. She could have honored her mother, but what was the point when she wasn’t even here? She was dead. Dead.

Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself sink into the sensation of the brush moving through her hair. "I loved her. I always did... I was kind to her, wasn't I?" The words felt heavy on her tongue, as if she were asking herself more than Elira. She knew the answer already. She had been kind. She had been gentle.

She sighed softly, her breath fogging the glass in front of her as her thoughts drifted. It was supposed to be a boy. A brother. I would’ve been kind to him too. She had already chosen the Dreamfyre egg for him, already imagined what he would look like with his silver hair and violet eyes.

But now... there was no brother. No mother. Just silence.

Suddenly, a sharp tug at her scalp broke through her thoughts, jolting her back to the present. She flinched slightly, her eyes narrowing as she turned her head just enough to glance at Elira.

"I'm so sorry, princess! Please forgive me!" Elira’s voice trembled, her hands shaking as she quickly let go of the brush, dropping it to the floor. She fell to her knees, her head bowed low, not daring to look up at Y/n. "Please, forgive me, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t... please, please, forgive me..."

Y/n stared down at her, unblinking, her mind oddly blank. Elira had always been loyal. She had always done what she was told. And now here she was, groveling on the floor, begging for forgiveness over a simple tug of hair. It was... pathetic.

But she didn’t feel angry. She didn’t feel anything.

"It's alright," she said calmly, her voice soft but devoid of emotion. "You can continue."

Elira hesitated for a moment, her hands still trembling as she slowly picked up the brush again, standing on shaky legs. She resumed her task, this time more careful, her movements slower, more deliberate.

Y/n turned back to the window, her gaze distant once more, her mind drifting in and out of the haze that had settled over her ever since her mother’s death. She could still hear Elira sniffling softly behind her, no doubt still terrified of making another mistake.

It’s fine, she told herself. She’s always been like this. Always afraid. Always apologizing. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

She closed her eyes again, her fingers tracing the cool glass once more, feeling the chill seep into her skin.

“I made a decision,” Viserys looked between his daughters. “I have chosen to name Rhaenyra as my heir.”

The words hit her like a wave of ice-cold water, freezing her smile in place. Wait… what? Her mind stumbled, struggling to make sense of the words. Rhaenyra? She blinked, willing herself to understand, to hear something else, but the reality pressed on her, unyielding.

“That’s… great, Father!” she managed, her voice tight and bright. Her lips twitched, and somehow, she forced them into a smile. She clasped her hands in front of her, feeling them shake, the tremors threatening to give her away. Hold it together, she thought desperately, teeth gritted behind her smile. Don’t let them see. Don’t let them see.

A cacophony of voices began to rise within her, whispering, hissing, each word cutting into her like a thousand small blades. Weak… pathetic… that’s what you are.

Her nails dug into her palms as she continued to hold her smile. No, I’m not weak… he just doesn’t see my worth yet. He doesn’t understand. But he will, he will…

That’s why Father chose her, isn’t it? Because you’re useless. Because you’re nothing.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and glanced sideways at Rhaenyra, who was watching her with a mixture of pride and hesitance. Rhaenyra, the golden girl. Rhaenyra, the heir. Rhaenyra… the one Father loves. Her stomach twisted painfully, but she forced herself to keep smiling, her jaw aching from the strain.

Of course he doesn’t love you, they continued. Why would he? You’re not what he wanted. You’re just a mistake, a failure, a useless little girl who couldn’t be more than a shadow.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat like a drum in her ears. She felt hollow, as if she were disappearing from within, crumbling like ash. I’m not useless, I’m not… But they laughed, drowning her, making it impossible to think.

Look at him. Look at how he looks at her. Do you see that warmth in his eyes? He has never looked at you like that. He never will.

Her hands were trembling openly now, and she clasped them tighter, willing herself to stop, to silence the whirlwind inside her. I am more than this, she thought, but the words felt empty, like something fragile that could shatter with a single breath. She lifted her gaze to her father, but his expression was unchanged, his eyes full of pride—for Rhaenyra.

That’s all you are, isn’t it? A disappointment. A shadow, unwanted and unloved.

Her head swam, and she could barely hear anything beyond the mocking laughter echoing in her mind. But she kept smiling, the mask she wore cracking at the edges, her heart sinking with each passing second. You're wrong. You're wrong about me. Father does love me… he has to…

“Are you all right?” Viserys asked, frowning slightly.

The words jolted her back to the room, and she forced herself to nod, ignoring the way her throat tightened. “Yes, Father,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She wanted to scream, to cry, to tear down everything around her, but instead, she turned to leave, her face carefully blank.

As she walked away, the voices clawed at her, unrelenting, ruthless.

Useless. Unwanted. Weak. That’s why he chose her. That’s why he’ll always choose her. Because you will never be enough.

It's finally over. It had been a long day, a day that had dragged on for what seemed like an eternity. Today Rhaenyra had been named heir to the Iron Throne and she had to bow before her.

As she walked, Elira, kept a respectful distance behind her, her soft footsteps barely audible. The quiet murmur of the castle, usually so comforting to Y/n, only seemed to intensify the ache in her chest. She quickened her pace, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor as the thoughts spiraled deeper. Why her? Why not me?

"Thanks the gods it's Princess Rhaenyra,"

Y/n froze, her entire body stiffening as she heard the words. Her mind raced, and her steps slowed, her breath catching. She looked around the corner, and saw a small group of servants standing near a doorway, talking among themselves. Her gaze narrowed as she caught the full statement.

"Ah, yes, I'm really thankful the King didn’t choose that mad cunt," one of them laughed, a harsh, ugly sound that made her skin crawl.

"What did you say?"

They immediately froze when they heard her, their faces draining of color. She could hear their frantic whispers, the way their voices faltered in fear. One of them, took a hesitant step backward.

The servants' eyes widened, and they all started stammering apologies, their words tangled together in a rush of panic.

"Please, my lady, we meant no harm, we were just—"

"We were just talking, milady. Please forgive us—"

"Please don’t—"

Her eyes locked onto the boy who had spoken the words. He looked terrified now, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear. She took a step forward, the rage bubbling over, her movements fluid and quick as she closed the distance between them. The boy shrank back, but it was too late.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Y/n half-yelled, her voice a venomous hiss. Everything that had been building inside her—the anger, the hurt, the rejection—came flooding out in a violent, unstoppable wave.

The servants froze, some of them taking instinctive steps back, but they couldn’t escape.

Before the boy could even react, Y/n was on him, her hands grabbing his hair. With a sickening crack, she slammed his skull against the stone wall. She didn’t even register the impact at first, her vision turning red as the anger clouded her thoughts. She did it again. And again. And again.

The sound of his skull crashing against the stone echoed in her ears, drowning out everything else. She didn’t hear the cries, the pleading, the desperate sobs. She didn’t hear Elira begging her to stop, her voice barely cutting through the haze of fury.

"Stop! Please! Stop!" Elira cried, her voice high with fear, but Y/n was beyond reason now. She could feel the boy’s head break beneath her hands, could feel the blood running down her fingers. The sound of his sobs, his frantic begging, only drove her further into madness.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, it was over. She stood there, panting, her breath ragged as she stared down at the boy’s lifeless body. His head was a mangled mess, blood seeping out from the cracks in his skull. Her hands were slick with it, the red staining her fingers, her palms.

She blinked, coming back to herself slowly. The haze began to clear. She looked down at the body, her heart still racing, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Her chest heaved, and for a moment, she could barely comprehend what had just happened. She didn’t even remember how she’d gotten here, or how many times she’d struck him.

He’s dead.

The thought hit her like a punch to the gut. Her heart sank, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface, still clawing at her insides. She turned to look around at the others—the servants were trembling, staring at her in horror, their faces pale and filled with fear.

Why... Why they are looking at me like this?

Y/n glanced down at her dress, now soaked in blood. It was one of her favorites. She frowned as she looked at the deep red stains, the fabric ruined. What a pity.

With a deep sigh, she straightened up, her anger beginning to ebb, leaving a hollow emptiness behind. Her voice was calm, too calm, as she turned to the servants. “Clean this mess up,” she ordered, her voice flat. “And make sure no one finds out about it.”

She didn’t care how they did it, just as long as it was done. She turned to Elira, her voice still controlled, though her emotions were a mess inside her. “Prepare the bath for me,” she said softly, almost pitiful. “I need to wash.”

As she walked away, Elira hesitated for a moment before following her. The others remained rooted to the spot, too afraid to move. Y/n walked through the hallways, the blood drying on her hands, her mind drifting in a haze of confusion and sadness.

I’m so tired. The thought came suddenly, washing over her like a wave. She let out a breath, shaking her head slightly.

But as she entered her chambers, she start thinking about the scene she left behind. The servants would clean it. They always did. But they would never forget. And neither would she.

With that, she closed the door behind her, her thoughts already shifting again, the sadness creeping back in.

"The realm will never accept a woman as their ruler," Rhaenys muttered, her voice laced with the bitterness that always seemed to cloud her words when the topic of succession arose.

Y/n tilted her head and nodded, the movement slow, almost sympathetic. Oh, how tragic, she thought, her lips curling into a faint smirk. All this whining and hand-wringing. Pathetic.

She softened her features, arranging her face into what she imagined looked like mild concern. "Tragic, isn’t it?" she said, her voice dripping with a smooth, honeyed sarcasm that neither of them seemed to catch.

"When I am queen I will create a new order," Rhaenyra said, her tone defiant, her chin lifted as though challenging the world to disagree.

Yes, yes, Rhaenyra, I’m sure you would be a shining example of wisdom and honor, Y/n thought, fighting back a laugh. Keep dreaming.

"Of course you would, dear sister," Y/n replied smoothly, giving a slight, dismissive nod. "The realm would be lucky to have you."

Rhaenys glanced at her, as if sizing her up, before letting out a low, sardonic chuckle. "Men would sooner burn the kingdom than let a woman sit on the throne," she said, a bitter truth in her words that, for some reason, still failed to resonate with Y/n. Power wasn’t something one was given—it was taken. And anyone too weak to seize it had no right to it in the first place.

She hid her thoughts behind a sip of wine, watching them both with a half-lidded gaze, letting their words drift over her like idle gossip. What a pair they are—one too proud to realize her limitations, the other too bitter to let go of her grievances.

"Oh, yes, a kingdom ablaze," Y/n murmured, feigning a wistful tone. "How poetic. Such a tragic tale, isn’t it?" She held out her glass, staring into the dark red liquid as if pondering something deeply moving, though in truth, she was only admiring the way the light caught the wine.

Rhaenyra sighed heavily. "They underestimate us. They see us as delicate things, fit only to be wives and mothers."

"Do they?" Y/n’s smile widened, an amused glint in her eyes. Oh, the endless suffering. Boo-hoo.

Rhaenys was watching her with an arched brow, clearly picking up on the subtle mockery in her tone. "You don’t seem very troubled by any of this, Y/n," she observed, almost as if accusing her.

Y/n shrugged, a slow, lazy movement that exuded indifference. "Oh, I am devastated, truly," she replied, the sarcasm practically dripping from her words. "What a tragic world we live in, where women like us must endure such indignities. Really, it’s heartbreaking."

Rhaenyra shot her a sharp look. "This isn’t a joke, Y/n."

"Of course not," Y/n replied, her voice smooth as silk, unfazed by her sister’s disapproval. "Nothing about any of this is funny." She took another sip, savoring the wine and the absurdity of it all. I should be the one that wear the crown, not you.

Then, as though the thought had only just occurred to her, she sighed and placed her empty goblet aside. "Ah, but I must take my leave, unfortunately." She glanced over at them, feigning a regretful expression. "I’ve a fitting to attend for my dress, you know, for Father’s wedding. It simply wouldn’t do to be unprepared for such an occasion."

The slight in her tone was subtle, but it was there, veiled in a pleasant smile. The wedding going to happen sooner or later. What a spectacle it would be. Their dear father, so desperate to secure his legacy that he’d wed a mere girl, and all to produce another heir—a boy, if the gods were willing, and if not… well, it hardly mattered to her.

"How dutiful of you," Rhaenys remarked, a hint of mockery in her voice. It was clear she saw through Y/n’s thin veneer of civility.

"Indeed." Y/n inclined her head, lips quirking in a smug smile. "After all, it’s so important to play our parts well, isn’t it?"

She glanced back at them one last time, giving them both a pointed look, her smile widening as she took in their earnest, troubled faces. "Farewell, then. Do enjoy your discussion. Such deep, meaningful words, truly," she said, voice dripping with false admiration as she turned on her heel, sauntering away without a second glance.

Y/n strode toward her father’s chambers, Ser Criston trailing like a shadow at her side. She had a perfectly charming smile painted on her lips until she came up short, blocked by two guards standing in front of the doors. Their hands gripped their spears, glancing at each other nervously before looking back at her.

“Step aside,” she said, voice a silky command.

The guards didn’t budge.

One of them, foolishly brave or utterly clueless, raised a hand. “I’m sorry, my lady, but the King has asked to not be disturbed.”

Her smile faltered, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You’re saying I can’t see my father?” Her voice was calm, almost amused. She tilted her head, letting her gaze drift over their faces with cold scrutiny. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

The guard stiffened, clearly feeling her gaze like a blade. “We have orders.”

She chuckled, the sound smooth as honey but laced with venom. “And do you have any idea what I could do to you for disobeying me?” She leaned in, voice dropping low. “I could have your tongues ripped out, have you hanging from the city walls by your intestines, all while you beg for mercy.” She smiled, sickly sweet. “Or I could just tell my father you disrespected his daughter.”

The guards flinched, glancing at each other but standing firm.

She clicked her tongue, gaze sharpening. “Perhaps I should have Ser Criston here peel the skin from your faces, inch by inch? How does that sound?”

Criston’s hand drifted to his sword, his eyes darkening in anger at their defiance. Before he could make a move, Otto appeared around the corner, striding toward them with his usual calm authority.

“Ah, my lord Hand,” Y/n said, smile widening as she turned toward Otto. She cast the guards one last look before redirecting her attention.

Otto looked at her and then at the guards, clearly sensing the tension in the air. “Is there a problem here, princess?” His voice was calm, as if he hadn’t just walked into a potential bloodbath.

She tilted her head, letting out a soft, exasperated sigh. “Oh, nothing major, Lord Hand,” she purred. “Just a minor misunderstanding. These men seem to think they have the right to keep me from my father’s chambers. Quite peculiar, don’t you think?” She cast a smug glance at the guards, watching as they shifted uncomfortably.

The guards started to speak up, but Y/n shot them a warning glare, silencing them immediately. “In fact, I’d say it was downright insulting.”

Otto nodded thoughtfully, his expression neutral. “Well, princess, your father is about to attend the small council meeting. I’ve come to fetch him myself.”

She clenched her jaw, an annoyed sigh slipping from her lips as she finally gave a small nod. Fucking cock suckers. But she kept her expression calm, respectful even. Otto had always been fond of her—treated her like one of his own, in a way. No need to break that little bond just yet.

“Very well,” she murmured, stepping back as she allowed Otto to enter. She watched him disappear into the chamber, then turned her gaze back toward the guards, her expression a warning that needed no words. They quickly looked away, pretending to be more interested in the floor.

Moments later, Otto returned with her father. Viserys offered her a faint, apologetic smile, but his focus seemed elsewhere, a bit distracted. Odd. Otto, too, seemed unusually composed, almost as if there was something else on his mind.

As they walked away, Y/n glanced toward the chamber doors, half-distracted, until she caught a flash of red hair in the corner of her vision. A woman’s figure seated on the edge of the bed—her father’s bed.

Her heart skipped a beat, eyes widening. She had to suppress a sudden laugh, biting her nails as her excitement bubbled up. Oh, now that’s just… delicious.

There’s no way… Is that…? Did Otto really…? Oh, you sly, clever old fox. So that’s why Father’s been so preoccupied. And here I thought he was just mourning my poor Mother.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Criston’s voice brought her back to the present. He glanced at her with concern.

She smiled at him, a flash of brightness that was all teeth. “I’m perfectly fine, Ser Criston,” she murmured, her gaze still lingering on that red hair. Alicent. The Hand’s sweet little daughter, warming dear Father’s bed where Mother once lay. Oh, it was almost poetic.

Without another word, she wrapped her arm around Criston’s, a little too tight, leading him away, her smile widening as her mind danced with happiness. The thrill of it all simmered under her skin, making her eyes glint with a mad sort of glee.

Oh, Rhaenyra… if only you knew. Your dear friend is right here, warming our father’s bed. Such a pity you don’t see it yet. Poor, poor little sister.

Criston glanced at her, brow furrowed in confusion. “Is something the matter, my lady?”

“Nothing at all,” she purred, letting out a small laugh. “I’m just… happy, that’s all.”

As the small council convened, Viserys rose to his feet, his expression serious yet strained. She cast a brief glance at Rhaenyra beside her, who watched their father with rapt attention, completely unaware.

Don’t tell me Father’s actually going to—

“I have decided… I am to marry Lady Alicent Hightower.”

The silence that followed was exquisite. Y/n’s smirk widened as she glanced sideways at Rhaenyra, whose face had turned from shock to disbelief. Rhaenyra’s eyes met Y/n’s, wide and wounded, and in that brief exchange, Y/n’s smirk told her everything. Yes, dear sister, I knew. I knew before you did. And now… so do you.

Y/n’s gaze turned cold as she looked across the room at Corlys. He sat motionless for a moment, disbelief and anger barely concealed in his face as he processed what the King had just announced. She barely held back her sneer of disgust.

This pathetic man… offering up his child to this decrepit old fool just to worm his way closer to the throne. What a spineless little weasel. Tried to sell sweet Leana to Father… You’re nothing but a cock-sucking snake, Corlys.

Corlys’ face hardened. Offended, he shot Viserys a withering look before standing abruptly and leaving the room in silence. Y/n’s eyes followed him, the smirk still tugging at her lips. Good riddance, you worm.

Next to her, Rhaenyra had gone pale. She shot a look of absolute betrayal at Alicent, whose face was touched with guilt, as if she’d known this moment was coming yet hadn’t prepared for the sight of her friend’s hurt. Then turning on her heel and storming out.

Poor, naive Rhaenyra… How perfect, to have this all crumble around you while you stood unaware.

But Y/n stayed, savoring the stunned silence that filled the room, and then, without missing a beat, she plastered on her most sincere smile.

“Congratulations, Father!” she chimed, her voice warm as she moved toward Viserys.

Viserys let out a sigh, though a relieved one, as she embraced him, patting her arm gently. “Thank you, my dear,” he replied, clearly grateful for her support.

She released him, turning to Alicent, who was still wide-eyed, not quite sure what to make of the sudden affection Y/n was showing. She shifted uncomfortably as Y/n opened her arms to her.

“Alicent,” Y/n murmured, drawing her in with a tight embrace, voice sweet as honey. She leaned close to her ear, her words just barely audible to anyone but Alicent.

“Oh, Alicent,” she murmured into her ear, “I always knew you were a little whore.” She felt Alicent’s body stiffen, but she continued, undeterred. “You shouldn’t be so pleased with yourself—you’ve married my rotting father, after all.” She let out a mocking laugh, barely a whisper. “I can only imagine… his ‘crown jewels’ are as decrepit as the rest of him. But lucky you, you’re the perfect breeding mare, aren’t you? A nice, wet hole to keep his cock warm,” she added, voice dripping with contempt, “Every night you’ll lay with him, his decaying hands on you, his disgusting, rotting body. I’ll bet even his—” she sneered, “—cock is rotting.”

Alicent’s face flushed, her breath catching as she stood, stunned and trembling in Y/n’s arms. Y/n only smiled, tilting her head to kiss her on the cheek.

“I’m so happy for you, Mother,” she cooed, her voice dripping with sweetness.

Alicent, visibly shaken, managed a faltering smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you… daughter.”

Part 1

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[audiovisualrecall]

So my dad has a trio of cousins. K, Re and Ro. Several years ago the older two, Re and K accused their youngest of stealing money from their dad and decided they no longer wanted anything to do with her, they wouldn't go anywhere if she was going to be invited or might come, they refused to contact her or speak to her Or their niece - and worst of all they put their dad in a nursing home and Refused To Tell Ro where he was and once she found out, they refused to let her or her daughter Visit him. They refused to come to my grandmother's funeral bc Ro might have been there, even after everything grama S did for them and tried to mediate. But no.

And now I find out that great uncle H died back in April! And not only did they not tell *US* (because idk we're sympathetic towards Ro so yknow, we're poisoned?) BUT THEY DID NOT TELL THEIR OWN SISTER HER FATHER HAD PASSED AWAY!!??

Apparently there was some other stuff going on. K was ill and in rehab. But he passed a month ago! In *April*! And Ro had to find out on her own from somewhere/someone else???????????

It's so fucked up.

[losersiren]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

[thebearer]

love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three

prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.

or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)

contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+

“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 

Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 

“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 

Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 

“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 

“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 

You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 

“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 

You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 

“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 

You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 

Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 

“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 

“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 

“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 

MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 

Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 

Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 

You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 

Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 

The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 

“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 

Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 

Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 

“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 

Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 

You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 

“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 

You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 

Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 

You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 

“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 

Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 

“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 

“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 

Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 

“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 

“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 

“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 

“-No, no, I swear-” 

“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 

Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 

“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 

“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.

 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 

“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 

“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 

“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 

“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 

“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 

“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 

“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 

Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 

“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 

“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 

Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 

“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 

“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 

“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 

“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 

You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 

“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.

“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 

“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 

“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 

“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 

“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 

“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 

Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 

“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 

“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 

“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 

You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 

Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.

“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 

Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 

“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 

Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 

Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 

You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 

Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 

Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 

“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 

“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 

“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 

“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 

The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 

Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 

Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 

“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 

“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 

You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 

“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 

You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 

Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 

“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 

You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 

Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 

His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 

Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 

“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 

Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 

Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 

Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 

Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 

Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 

“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”

[d4yl1ghts]

Hi could I request an Anthony c wife reader fic where they are in a heated argument and Anthony accidentally says he regret marrying reader so she ends up giving him the silent treatment and just ignoring him so he can grovel for her forgiveness

regrets

(mean?) anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader

summary: anthony realises the importance of words

warnings: argument

-

As you trudged down the antique staircase, you couldn’t help but ponder the lack of the presence of your husband recently. He was always locked away in his office and whenever you confronted him, he would always reply with: “I still have more work, Y/N.” After he said that, he would kick you out of his office. You were really missing Anthony currently and you longed for his touch, despite never really enjoying physical touch, you longed for his touch.

And so that is what led you to now, storming into his office, without even knocking. Anthony huffed quietly as he looked up to see you. He held his head in his hands as he stared back down at his pile of paperwork. “What?”, he asked blatantly as he eyed the paper. “Is that all you have to say to me?”, you asked bemusedly. “Yes. You stormed into my office whilst I am working.”, he justified. “Do you only care for your work and business?”, you asked with an upset expression.

“No, it is just so overwhelming sometimes. It is a requirement that I see to all of it as the Viscount.”, he responded as he shuffled in his chair. “Is it not a duty to spend some of your time in the presence of your wife?”, you asked as you focused on the elegant wooden desk, avoiding his intense eyes that often gave away his emotions. “I suppose so. I almost regret marrying.”, he confessed. You simply stared at him. Did he really regret marrying you? Why did he go through all of the effort of making your wedding perfect for you if he didn’t want to get married?

Silently, you forced your feet to carry you back into your bedroom which was fortunately not shared with Anthony. In the past, you would spend your sleepless nights in his room and he would go into yours if he burned for your passion. You slammed the door shut and locked it: to be certain that he would not enter your chambers. You needed to be alone.

It was safe to say that it was yet another sleepless night but he was not there to ease you through it. Amidst the sunlight of the rising sun, you hastily got ready for the day; you requested for your hair to be more simply styled today and your robes less detailed and delicate. Truth be told, you only asked your maids to do your hair gracefully for Anthony, you hated the process and you decided that you would not care about what he’d have to say about your robes: he didn’t need to acknowledge his wife anymore.

You sat at the table in silence whilst you ate breakfast with him opposite you, none of you making eye contact.

You sat on the sofa as you read in silence which felt unusual with out your updates to Anthony and his queries on where you had gotten up to.

You sat in the picturesque garden in silence.

It was not until dinner that Anthony broke the silence. “Y/N.”, he began as you pushed your food away from you like Anthony had you. “I do not know where to begin.”, he continued as he gazed across at you. “When I spoke such words, I did not realise they would be so harmful and impactful.”

You glanced up for a split second and saw the sparkle of sincerity in his eyes before going back to playing with your food. “I know that you will not ever truly forgive me for those unkind words but I hope you will at least know this: I did not mean it like that. In fact, I almost meant the opposite: I feel as though because I am the Viscount I am unable to take care of my wife and spend the needed time with her.”, he stated in one breath. “I almost feel pitiful for my wife: no one should be neglected simply because they are my wife. I just do not know how a woman could love me for I was not made to be a tender husband or a loving father. I was made to be the Viscount. Those are my duties. And so I thought to myself: you deserve so much better and so why should I bother when I cannot give what you require?”, he pleaded with a new sense of vulnerability in his eyes. You knew how hard it was for him to open up and for him to admit to this, you were proud of him.

“Anthony, you are the perfect husband (when you want to be).”, you mentioned teasingly. He let out a teary smile. “And I know that in the future you will be the most loving father to our children. You even admitting to feeling like such proves it.”, you responded as you slowly made your way over to his side of the table.

Once you had reached him, you carefully caressed his jawline as he gazed up at you whilst tears gently rolled down his cheeks. He placed his arms around your neck and pulled you down so he was able to passionately kiss you, conveying his love for you. As he pulled away, he cautiously grabbed your hand and guided you into his room. For the first time in weeks, you slept through the whole night.

[lillotte17]

*throws more Veilguard Banter into the gaping maw of Tumblr and then flees*

~~

Solas: “I have another question, Varric. If I may?”

Varric: “Just the one?”

S: “For now. I must admit, I was surprised to see that you were the one they asked to make an attempt at dissuading me from completing my mission. Not to belittle our prior bonds of friendship, but if the intent was to send an agent who might presumably hold some power of persuasion over me, I…would have thought another candidate might have seemed like the more obvious choice.”

V: “Would it really have changed anything if she had been the one telling you to stop?”

 S: “I…do not know. I should think not.”

V: “But at least you would have gotten to see her again, right?”

S: “Perhaps.”

V: “Heh, don’t you worry, Chuckles, I’m sure you’ll get your chance. The fact that I was here instead of her is more of a fluke than anything else. She was more than eager to follow up on the tip that led us to you, but then the kid insisted on tagging along, and you know how it is.”

S: “…kid?”

V: “Right, the kid. You probably haven’t seen him either.”

S: “…No. I have not. Although, I would have thought that there would have been news if the Herald of Andraste had… Well. I suppose there is wisdom in striving to keep such affairs private. I certainly have no right to voice an objection.”

V: “Why would you object to seeing the kid again?”

S: “Again? I… You are referring to Cole.”

V: *snorts* “Well, yeah. Who’d you think I was talking about?”

S: “Never mind.”

~

Rook: “So, Varric, do you really think the Inquisitor is going to show up?”

Varric: “Oh, don’t worry, she’ll be here. She’s been searching high and low for Chuckles for nearly a decade.”

R: *whistles* “And she never caught up to him in all that time?”

V: “Once. It…didn’t end well. After that, a few of our agents came close over the years, but it turns out that the world is a pretty big place, and tracking a lone elf with a network of magical transportation mirrors on his side is about as tricky as you’d expect. It’s even harder when you’ve got a notorious reputation and half of Thedas has seen portraits of your face. One whisper of the Herald of Andraste entering a city, and all our leads would vanish overnight.”

R: “But…I thought the two of them liked each other?”

V: “I think that made it worse, actually.”

Solas: “You do realize that I am standing right here?”

~

Solas: “For what it is worth, I am sorry about your Bianca, Varric.”

Varric: “Oh, you know, what’s an irreplaceable keepsake from the woman I can never be with in the grand scheme of things, anyway? At least you didn’t turn me to stone.”

S: “Your anger is justified. I do not expect your forgiveness, but I would apologize for my actions, none the less.”

V: “Look, if I were you, my forgiveness isn’t what I’d be worried about right now. Someone else has a much bigger bone to pick with you than I do.”

S: “I am not expecting her forgiveness, either.”

V: “So, you’re not even going to try?”

S: “And what, precisely, should I be trying, Master Tethras? This is hardly the sort of situation to be solved by a bouquet of flowers and a well-constructed poem.”

Rook: “Maybe you could send chocolates?”

V: “I was going to suggest groveling, actually.”

[sukunas-wife]

Sealed 2

1 3

“Year after year after year the hours pass and it never ends, I’ve been here for millennia is Ryomen even trying?” You sat down onto the pile of bones, skeletons supporting you the best they could. The Prison Realm had become your domain, you’d molded every bone and skeleton to do your work. Your elbow resting on the spine of skeleton your cheek pressing against your fist as you stared bored.

Looking down the pile of bones and skeletons holding up your throne that you had formed to match Sukuna’s you saw two Skeletons battling for your amusement. Sighing you slouched back in your throne, watching the two headed four armed skeleton using sharpened bones as spears, fighting a towering 6 armed Skelton. His arms like vices ready to grab and shove whatever into its gaping rib cage to crush it. “This needs more!” The two skeletons looked up at you, before the rumbling of the skeletal centaur could be heard, a centaur of bone, his torso with 4 arms, it held an extended spine as if it were a chain. Lower two arms ready to grab at anything, more specifically rip off the head and spine of its opponents.

“YES! THIS IS what we need!” You smacked the skeleton who stood near you on the back. His bones shaking as you leaned forward, you’d find out soon which of your creations was truly the strongest. “Let’s get this show started-“ it was quick blur of red and black before you were standing head tilted to the side as you stared irked at the man in front of you. “Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID.”

“PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I BEG FOR MERCY I SPENT MUCH OF MY LIFE LOOKING FOR THIS TREASURE THATS BEEN hidden away heating the tales of how the sourcerer’s of old time had wrongly imprisoned a Diety of Fertility separating her from her son. I just come to beg and ask you give my wife your blessing to have a child were old in age but she’s always prayed and begged. I’ve run out of hope until i heard you tale, i beg and hoped you’d have mercy- Sit up” was all you said. The man went from groveling to sitting back on his heels. Sighing the conflict inside of you was great. You looked around tucking your arms into the sleeves of your worn Kimono. “Bring me your wife,” you looked up through the canopy of the trees you see the sun at mid day, “you have two sunsets and then I leave.” The man quickly bowed again at your feet thanking you before running off. You kicked the prison realm box “Damnit who won!” You snatched it up, the air was familiar, you started to look around. The reason it was so familiar was because it wasn’t to far from where you had been sealed. The skeletal remains of the sourcerers made you seethe. You found the remains of the man who sealed you grabbing his skull with your free hand making it look at you, “my child my husband,” you crushed it without fail, “you took it all from me and now everyone will pay.” Th tears falling down were hot. Dropping the remains you started your first technique “Reanimate.” A wave of purple radiated from you, hitting every border of the palace. Skeletal remains shaking and coming together to stand, “Get this place back into shape.” They started moving, you made your way inside the palace the inside help had been reanimated also, your ladies in waiting now remains, standing beside you as you enter “Find fabric I need new robes.” They rushed off and you made it to your old room, the massive bed your son had fallen off many times when he would try to sleep with you and his dad. The wardrobe filled with your husband’s old robes. The room was dusty and smelt humid, shoving the window open you tried not to cry, on the window sill was a talisman Sukuna had created for Yuji. Sniffling you turned your head, finding a small blanket and stuffed Tiger doll Yuji carried around that morning. A gift for his 2nd birthday that he loved and it showed on the tigers rugged appearance.

“My Yuji..” your faint whisper sounding so loud in the silence as you ran your fingers of the stuffed doll holding it close to your chest as you made your way around the room planning your moves. Your plans had always been to follow in similar steps to Sukuna. Except that you’d be known for good to balance out the evil perspective they had of your husband. First, fix your palace. Second, create miracles in the closest town or village to make profit and move into a bigger city to improve profits. Find wherever Sukuna had been sealed away, and break him free. Find Yuji and take him back from this cruel world.

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

It’s been over 100 more years and you’d grown accustomed to the changing in technology and times, passing the crowds into your shrine you smiled ruffling the heads of kids who smiled up at you, rubbing the plump bellies of pregnant women you passed and “blessing” the sick with instant health with simply laying a hand on them and smiling kindly.

Entering your shrine for the last time your Gentlemen in waiting was packing up what was left. The last thing left was the main room where your wide throne sat, you’d be leaving it being to your followers, the cushions you provided for your followers during your sessions. “Morí.” You called out and he came from the room he was in bowing and holding his hands out in front of him. “Yes Lady Y/n?”

“Morinozuka, we’re leaving tonight to Sendai City. The mark of my binding vow is burning more, but are you sure that’s where we need to go?”

“Yes Lady Y/n.” He spoke not looking up from his bow. You nodded, “then it’s final.”

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

“So this is the place?” You turned to Morí and he nodded. “It’s not as lavish but this is the closest we can get… Your excellency.. I strongly recommend you continue to hide your cursed energy until I suggest otherwise.” You nodded getting out of the car “Very well, I will.”

It was morning when you had arrived, standing in front of the door to the house you looked over an elder man was walking out of his house he looked over and you smiled at him and he had a very faint twitch of his lip. Until a man with pink hair came out, follows by a woman with black hair and you felt it. The pulse of cursed energy and instinctively you grabbed Mori by his robes and pulled him towards you, “That woman, she’s no woman that- is the carrier of your child.” You head snapped instantly to him, “The father of my child, that’s the sorcerer who knew Sukuna, and he is going to mother my child?” Your face showing your exact emotions Mori placing a hand over yours, “Lady Y/n, please recollect your thoughts. I can assure you he will NOT be mothering your child, and her husband will not be fathering him either.” Letting go of his robes you nodded. Looking over your shoulder you watched the couple get into a car the elder man scowling when they started to drive away.

Turning to look at you he tucked his arms behind his back walking over, “Good Morning I’m L/n Y/n.” You greeted bowing after you moved closer, he dismissed you with a wave of your hand. “Morning, Wasuke Itadori.” He cocked a brow and looked over at your house, “It’s been up for sale for a long time. Almost 3 years before someone has moved in.” You looked back at your house, “I moved in to get closer to work. I thought it was just a blessing for everything to line up so perfectly.”

He nodded, “Well, blessings only go so far here. My son’s wife is something I’d consider to be a curse.” You nodded, “oddly enough I wouldn’t disagree. I know a snake when I see one and from a brief glance I wouldn’t trust her at all.”

He nodded, “Have a good day moving in, if you need help my son and his wife will be returning soon. I’m sure either of them would be willing to help with any problems.”

“Have a good day Mr.Itadori.” You bowed your head slightly and you both went separate ways.

“Mori,” you sighed entering your house “count these days.”

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [4] | Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: MDNI 18+!! canon divergence!!! I fucked the timeline and nigly bits bc this was an impulse fic ok soooo it was mostly unplanned, almost smut, angst, let the grovelling happen babyyy, unedited, mention of alys x aemond but not in a good way :((, infidelity, talk of sex, guilt, mentions of Aegon x reader, hmmm I ramble, little vulnerable Aemond, bad language, let me know if I've missed anything!

Author's note: y'all I was never done with that man like there's no easy out for him :llll. Anyways I wrote most of this instead of studying which I needed to do. Perhaps I'll have my hand at another idea I'm cooking before part 5 but I'm alsoooo unsure about how keen we are to keep this one going - like is it getting too much??? either way, I enjoy writing this. and idk how to shut up, clearly, because I love that internal mind talk shit. Drop your thoughts in my inbox or PM me because I love to yap!!! xoxo, kisses!!! <3

Masterlist

-

He was a fool. A spoiled, arrogant and entitled fool. You often thought about whether Aemond actually recognised the effect of his actions on anyone else. It was always ‘I did it for us’ or ‘I did it because I had to do it’.

So after your confrontation the day before, it had surprised you that Aemond had truly believed he was forgiven. Maybe it shouldn’t have. You had, after all, sat beside him and laughed with him. Shared a moment as if things were better. But it was nothing more than a lighthearted acknowledgement that whatever game was being played was entirely ridiculous yet you could feel how something had changed. There was a newfound intensity between the two of you and Aemond had clearly understood that he had made a mistake

But that wouldn't be enough for forgiveness. Things would never really be the same. You will never forget. The nameless woman had made a home in your unconscious mind and everything would remind you of the woman your husband had chosen to take to bed over you. She was beautiful, she was experienced and free of burden. Based on that alone a part of you could see why she could have been a better choice–a part of you that ached and pained ceaselessly. 

And you weren’t sure you could carry on as if Aemond hadn’t thrown your entire world into the pits of ruin. Because that is exactly what he may as well have done. All you had was your marriage to him–a fact that was as painful as it was true. If it all fell apart because of him only you would suffer from it. 

Your name, your family’s name. A Lady born to a house of remarkably lowly nobility with little more than your marriage to the prince. A charity case marriage to tell the realm’s people that the Crown was not so prejudiced as to be above uniting with the likes of your house. That the Lannisters and Baratheons were important but they were not everything. A fabrication only made necessary to cover up the fact that it was a lie–the Targaryens (and even the Hightowers as you had come to realise) really did believe they were of better blood. 

A failure to fulfil your duty to the Targaryen crown as Prince Aemond’s wife would destroy your family name. And you would have no prospect of happiness after it. What else did you have aside from this?

Aemond would never understand that. Because not only was he a man but he was a prince. A privilege, a safety and a security he had inherited through birth. 

Aside from the pressures of society, he had hurt you. Badly. 

Despite your own confliction about it, you did have love for Aemond–how could you not? Love came from many things and while yours may have come from your dependance on his word, on the duty he performed to be your protector as he was to the Crown and its subjects, on his polite affections as limited as they were, it still found its way into your heart. Perhaps it was foolish to allow it entry into your existence when you had already known that there was no love to come from Aemond. 

It didn’t change anything. Betrayed your trust, taken you for granted and destroyed the sanctity of a husband’s loyalty as if he were as dishonourable as any other Lord. 

You would never say it out loud but it had broken your heart. And heartache is a consuming, suffocating and painful thing to feel. A constant lump in your throat, something always weighing your chest down, a disastrous, aching discomfort in your belly. Tears had stained your pillow at night and dried by the morning, the fabric of the linen acquiring the same unphased facade that you would wear as you plastered on a mask of ignorance so that you could continue to live through your day. 

All because you had wanted him. Aemond, who was doomed to disappoint and destroy merely because that is all that princes do. 

For him to have mistaken your truce–the end to the back and forth game that had been wreaking havoc in its wake-as forgiveness was infuriating. He had no idea. 

Well, maybe he did. Now that he had seen you with another just as you had seen him. And you recognised your own experience in the moment he had realised what was happening. 

Aemond’s call to breakfast made you want to laugh. But you had turned him down for afternoon tea just the day before only to be found swallowing his brother’s seed. You winced at the shamefulness of your thought, muttering a quick prayer for the sake of your piety whether it was genuine or not. 

He was seated lazily in the chair he favoured, an array of food spread across the table. There was a book in his hand. The same one he had taken from you the last time you had shared your morning meal together. Aemond had a smirk playing on his lips. 

You cleared your throat, curtsying before sitting down at the other end of the table to him and with as much distance between you as you could muster. “Good morrow, my Prince,”

“Formalities, I see,” He looked at you through his lashes. It was odd seeing him so relaxed, the tension that was always in his shoulders had been lost and there was a playful glint to his eye. You wanted to smack it out. “I believed we were past titles and distance for the sake of propriety, my sweet. As well as rigid greetings.”

All you responded with was a stare. 

Dropping the book to his side, Aemond sighed and leaned forward, pouring tea into a cup. He stood, taking a couple steps forward to hand it to you. “We have fixed-”

“We have fixed nothing.”

“I am trying to turn a new leaf,” he commanded. You took the cup and saucer from his hand, the warm waft of vanilla and rose giving you a slight reprieve from the threat that rolled off his tongue. “If you do not recall, dear wife, I as well have every reason to resent you. The image of you sucking on my useless brother’s cock is not one I can easily bare. Yet I have chosen to let it be. I could have easily decided otherwise.”

“That would make you a hypocrite.” You glanced at him over the rim of your teacup. 

“It does not matter much if I am a hypocrite, does it?” Aemond sat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t bothered with the food in front of him, focused solely on you. “I hardly see how that would change anything.”

You squirmed under the intensity of his stare, picking up a cherry from the bowl of fruits and rolling the stem between your fingers. “It matters to me. Certainly, it matters for your reputation among the smallfolk. Nobody cares for a selfish prince, my dear.”

Aemond hummed, smirking at the venom you spat at him. You noticed the coin that he rolled between his fingers, nimble and thoughtless as if it were like breathing. Not so much a nervous habit but a thoughtful one. 

He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t enjoy your confidence. It was refreshing. But there was a dip in his gut at the thought that there was no hope for the two of you. Aemond, ever logical, knew he had no one else to blame but himself with his lack of foresight and failure to see beyond the now and here. 

Because Aemond had not even considered how things would go on should you not forgive him. He had assumed that you would if not merely on the basis that there was little lost from a relationship that hardly existed in the first place. You had love for him and he was so convinced that such a thing would be impossible that he didn’t consider that it would cause you heartache beyond slighted offence and jealousy. 

A violet eye lingered on the cherry that remained between your fingers. Aemond was good at putting on an act. He thought for a moment that he would rather take lashes to his back than have you know that he had no idea how to love someone properly. A part of him was persuaded that he was incapable of being a good lover. The lashes seemed like a blissful gift compared to the self-loathing that simmered in his belly at the probability that he had ruined any chance your marriage had of recovery.  

It crossed his mind that it was his ignorance towards you right from the beginning that had damned your relationship. 

Either way, it did not help that you had turned to his brother for intimacy. Aemond felt his blood scorch whenever that invaded his mind. He wanted to crumble the walls of this fortress when he wondered if Aegon had enjoyed your womanhood. Jealousy did motivate him well, he realised, and Aemond had the murderous urge to feed Aegon to Vhagar. 

Nonetheless, he feigned amusement. “It seems as if you care for one.”

You ate the cherry. It was sweet and rich. All you replied with was an upturn of your chin as you gracefully held a small embroidered towel to your lips.

“So I am not forgiven?” Aemond had to break the silence before it cut him open. “Are we not even?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you held back a surprised laugh. “You never apologised. Not that it would make any difference.”

“That does not answer my question.”

“Of course you are not forgiven,” you sighed. The tea cup hit the table with a clang. Your disdain for his actions and his ignorance gave you an unfettered confidence around him which you weren’t accustomed to. It made it very difficult to control yourself. “And no, we are not even, my Prince. And since you have brought it to my attention, I am of half a mind to find Aegon and offer him a meal between my thighs. You see, I have often wondered how it would feel and I expect that our King would be happy to indulge my… curiosities.”

Aemond sneered, a silent one that was more visible in his intake of a breath, the curl of his lips and the hardening of his eye. Bullseye. 

It took him less than a couple seconds to be on his knees in front of where you sat, a strong hand tightly gripping each side of your thighs over the thick fabrics of your dress. He had shoved the table aside, unphased as tea spilled and fruits and cheeses toppled to the floor. Something in the look of bewilderment on your face had Aemond ready to both grin at your clueless innocence and frown at your shock.

Aemond didn’t let himself dwell on the fact that you had given up on expecting such pleasures from him. He was your husband; nothing about what he was clearly intending on doing to you should surprise you. Cursing himself to perdition would not be enough for how he has failed you. 

“I feel obliged to remind you that we had agreed,” he grazed his nose across your knees, looking up at you through his eyelashes, jaw clenched tight as he all but growled his words. “That there will be no more of this foolishness. Not from you and not from me.”

It was an onslaught of different things that had rendered you still and silent. The way Aemond looked at you like you were the only satiating force for his eternal hunger, the wordless mixture of desire and anger in how his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, the desperation in his voice, strained by the fear that you would. Or was it the overwhelming feeling that Aemond was finally taking some accountability and that maybe he recognised not what his actions were but the meaning that they carried?

For a moment Aemond just looked at you, conflicted and fragmented and unguarded. The sight of him like this reminded you of a vulnerable child. But it didn’t last long before the menacing, cautionary glint was back in his eye, his posture becoming rigid as shuffled the fabrics of your skirts. 

A new kind of anxiety overcame you. Not like the insignificant nervousness you had felt that night when you had wandered into his chambers or used his leg to make yourself peak and not like the clueless apprehension with Aegon. It formed a ball in your chest and made it hard to breathe. 

There was no chance he would ever admit it but you could see Aemond’s vulnerability and desperation within the hardened facade he had perfected. He wanted nothing more than to seem strong and powerful at all times, worthy of acclaim and reverence. But here he was, willing to stay on his knees and worship you forever, all under the pretence of rageful infatuation. 

It was too hot. Even with the cool of the shadows cast by the dark net curtains that only let in enough daylight to see clearly and not enough to cause Aemond irritation from sensitivity in his eye, it was so warm you worried you would have to rip the sleeves off of your dress.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Aemond let out a soft, dark groan, running his fingers across the expanse of your legs over your stockings, your skirts already bunched at your hips. Skin burning at his touch, you couldn’t help the way you whined and squeezed your thighs together, squirming under the intensity of his gaze. 

His voice was heavy with the burden of lust and regret. “I will be better. In all the ways that I have failed you and more. Your forgiveness, I realise, is not as easily granted as I presumed but I will show you that I am worthy of it.” 

There was a moment of weakness in your mind before you caught yourself. You didn’t quite believe him. It had clearly been too easy for him to give you empty promises and there was no reason why things would be different now. 

It was odd. Seeing Aemond weak like this. 

What would it mean if you let him continue? It was clearly different this time. You couldn’t put it into words exactly but there was a rawness, a blitz of different emotions that set things ablaze and made you want to both weep and mewl for him. 

You couldn’t spare a thought about why it was different. Aemond was right there, a weaponised Prince on his knees for you, a lowly Lady with nothing more to offer him than yourself. Since when did you hold all this power over him? 

That night in his bedchambers and last night when you had shared a laugh despite everything that had unfolded felt detached in a way. When you had allowed yourself release over his leg it was simply that. A way to ease the tension he had put in your body and a way to leave him wanting.

Aemond’s eye swam with a tenderness you had not seen from him. He continued to look up at you waiting to gauge your response. It was a slight nod of your head which had his hands tearing at the soft fabric of your stockings, his lips instantly meeting the skin of your knees before you had the chance to even gasp. All the while, he kept his eye on you as if his heart would cease to beat if he could not watch the way you reacted to him. 

It became increasingly harder to breathe. There were so many thoughts, so many sensations that you struggled to put it all together. Your flushed with anticipation, your cunt throbbed at the wet plushness of his lips on your hot skin and your hips squirmed at what was to come. 

Your mind, however, flashed with the image of Aemond, exactly as he was now, between another woman’s thighs. A woman who didn’t flinch at the unfamiliar touch, who didn’t jerk away at the foreign feeling of being pleasured. You wondered if he would be so angered at the prospect of another man’s mouth on her womanhood, if her skin felt softer or more rough on his lips and if he looked at her with the same heated need.

It made you feel sick. 

Aemond let himself enjoy the way your thighs tensed, pulling your smallclothes off of you as much as carefully as he could under the restriction of your skirts. There was an urge to rip the entire dress off but he knew it would be a step too far. He couldn’t help the low sounds that left him, sounds he couldn’t recognise. The expanse of your thighs and the sight of your flushed, hot cunt in front of him made his mouth water with a hunger that would have shocked him had he not been so distracted by your scent. 

Without complete vision, Aemond had learned to train his sense of touch, taste, smell and hearing to make up for the disadvantage he was stuck with. They were always slightly heightened compared to those who never needed the compensation of senses but in the cloud of desire and lust, he was sensitive. 

You whined at the way his tongue glided over your skin, biting down hard but not hard enough to be painful on the flesh of your upper thigh so close to where you needed to feel him. But Aemond was always remarkably patient and he merely made way to your other leg, repeating his ministrations and licking you from your knee to where he bit you at your thigh. 

The haze that had possessed you made you lose track of your thoughts so easily. Still, they fought their way to the forefront of your mind at every chance they could and you were reminded of her. 

Aemond’s mind was overwhelmed by you. There was no power in the realm that could make him think of anything else, not with the way you were trembling under his feathered touch and making such beautiful sounds for him, and not when he desired for anyone else apart from you. 

A heavy breath of shame and excitement tumbled out of you at how lewdly he dragged the tip of his nose across your thigh, pressing it into the flesh that sat above your slick, aching cunt and inhaling. You clenched around nothing, your clit twitching at the sound of Aemond’s unabashed groan. 

He grasped at your hips and your legs, his fingers burying into your flesh and tugging as if there would never be enough of you in his hands. It would have driven you into a similarly desperate state had things been different. 

The prince between your thighs was a sight to behold. Aemond’s skin was flushed pink, his eyepatch slightly out of place and his hair tousled from the way your legs clenched and unclenched against his head. He was almost drooling, mumbling about how good you smelled and how perfect and pretty your cunt was for him. His cock had never been so hard, constricted by the stiff leather of his training attires. 

Aemond enjoyed being a tease but there was only so much he could handle himself. While he wanted you to crave for him the way he was craving you so unbearably, Aemond needed to taste you. He needed to make you feel the blinding pleasure he should have been giving you at every chance he had since the night you were married. He needed to show you the ways of unbridled human desire and to show you all the ways your body could come undone and fall apart only to feel completely whole and fulfilled. 

There was no changing the past but Aemond would make up for how completely inattentive he had been. He would show you all the more fervently. When Aemond placed an open mouthed kiss just above your slit, letting a string of his spit glide off of his tongue onto your sensitive pussy, you shuddered.

All at once your mind was once again taken over by unsavoury thoughts. It had your eyes welling with tears, a familiar lump lodging in your throat, threatening to come out in a devastated sob. There was a ringing in your ears and you were back at Aemond’s door, peeking in only to see him giving that woman the same touch he was giving you right now. He had seemed so enthralled by her and the way she must have tasted. It was as if he’d been there before, indulging in her with so much passion it rivalled how eagerly touched you in this moment. 

Did her smell fill his veins with fire as yours was? Did her scent alone make his cock as painfully hard as yours did? Did her cunt drip for him the way yours did? Was the hunger in his eye shining for her too?

It was terrifying to consider. 

Aemond would spend hours here, he had decided. His duties for the day could be damned to the hells for all he cared. There was a rumbling in his chest for what he saw in front of him, inviting him to indulge and filling his mind with senseless ardour. Aemond let himself enjoy just the scent of you, his eye fluttering shut and his nose gently resting above your folds as he breathed you in, caressing your thighs softly with his hands. As if he were starved for years, Aemond salivated and with no patience left within him, he brought his lips downwards to meet the precious cunt he had been dreaming of. 

With a whimper that you couldn’t hold back, you jerked away from him. Aemond pulled away in surprise, his gaze full of confusion and lust and insecurity. “Wait, my love—“

You had slipped free of his grasp, a strangled cry escaping no matter how hard you tried to keep it in. There was one tear that slipped free, followed by countless more and you couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t bear to see that he was hurt before scrambling away from him. 

She was stuck in your mind. The memory of Aemond’s little trysts with her replaying behind your eyes no matter how hard you tried to shut it out. It was clear that there was nothing you could do to get ahold of yourself because everytime you looked at him, so enthralled in you and your sex, she was there. 

Laughing at you in the back of your mind, as if she had taken residence in a permanent place in your head, enjoying the state of despair and madness she and Aemond had led you to. 

But she couldn’t be in your head. Not really. Not in the way it felt she was. 

You barely glanced back at Aemond through your tears, struggling to even your breathing and calm the rapid beating of your heart. He hadn’t moved much; just simply stayed there frowning at the space that you had once occupied on the chair. 

There was nothing he could do to change things. Aemond knew that as well as you did. But there was a pain in your heart at the way he looked so defeated, so guilty that it almost seemed like he would melt into a puddle of remorse. A far stretch from the usual stoic warrior that you had known him as.

“My prince, I–” you swallowed, your voice catching when he looked up at you with a wide eye and furrowed eyebrows. For a moment you remembered that he had no right - but he was trying, was he not? “I cannot continue with this knowing that you had touched her like this. It angers me and it upsets me and it pains me to think of it but ‘tis beyond my control.”

He stayed silent, observing the way you hid yourself from him and struggled to meet his gaze. There was a sullen look to you, one you had not entered with and it stuck needles in his flesh to think that he had been the cause of it. Aemond’s entire body felt hot and he was itching to tear off his leathers. He wished the gods would strike him down as he was for hurting you so.

You had turned away, disappearing from his quarters swiftly. You would never forget the image of how you had left him there–it was both satisfying and devastating. 

Aemond, still on his knees for the ghost of you, his expression tortured and his shoulders tensed. It was a pathetic sight, should anyone stumble upon it, but you considered it beautiful. Beautiful in a lethal, catastrophic manner. Not unlike himself; a weaponised source of destruction who had a tendency to bring torment upon those he loved. 

The rest of your day had been spent alone in your chambers. You hadn’t cried so much over any of it until now. The tears and sobs that you had held inside of yourself for weeks had forced themselves out, along with the emotions you had pushed down until you could no longer. 

Aemond had a certain control while you were sitting in that seat, skirts bunched to your stomach and quivering for him to have his way. Regardless, the power was still yours and you knew that it was Aemond who was wrapped tightly around your finger at that moment. He would have listened to anything you had said–done anything you had told him to do. 

Perhaps you had become too stubborn in your anger to have let yourself feel anything else. A retributive anger; one that sprouted from the lack of love that existed in your marriage and reached a climax at Aemond’s brazen adultery. And it only grew stronger in whatever back and forth Aemond had encouraged by dangling his whore in front of your face. 

Whatever it was, you were feeling so much more now than you had before. 

Or perhaps it was because you could see that Aemond was remorseful. He would never yet admit it but you knew from the way he had behaved since you had visited him in his bed. It was no act of redemption and definitely no apology but it was impossible to ignore the change in him. You had never seen Aemond the way you had seen him this morning. 

Vulnerable, gentle, tormented. 

A knock on your door had you sniffling and wiping away any tear stains that may have lingered on your cheeks. You had stopped crying for some time but the need to wallow and lament had stayed. When you called out to ask, the guard at your door notified you of the Dowager Queen’s presence. 

Oh, seven hells. 

There was really no chance you could refuse her so you merely let her in and called a servant to bring some refreshments. Queen Alicent sat herself down but remained tense, carefully watching you as you took a place beside her. 

“Have you been crying?” Her concern was comforting. “I believe I know why.”

You straightened, not meeting the eye of the woman who reached a tender hand to your knee. Hiding behind a forced smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “I am certain the entirety of the Red Keep knows, Your Grace.”

“It has been known for some time,” Alicent was gentle, her cautionary gaze telling you that she was apprehensive about bringing her son’s misadventures up. You held your breath. “Since the first time he had summoned that Alys woman-”

“Alys? Is that her name?”

“You do not know?” There was a tense silence. Alicent couldn’t meet your gaze, pity swimming across her features. Aemond was her son and there were many things that she had let her sons get away with but her heart pained at the broken quiver in your voice. 

Alicent had noticed the change in Aemond since the night that you had found him with Alys. The second time. He had never paid much attention to you aside from what appearances required yet Alicent knew her son far more than he would be willing to accept. She had known that there was something in his heart for you, no matter how small and no matter how it dwindled until set alight. 

Aemond had done the wrong thing. She had no doubts about that. Alicent would have words with him once she figured out what to say to him. But he was her son and there were certain misdoings that she knew she had to defend them through. To protect his marriage, his image and his happiness. The Queen Dowager cleared her throat and reached for your hand, eyebrows furrowing at the way you stared down at your lap, the anguish you felt in your heart written clearly across your face. 

“I understand that you are hurting, my dear. Although my husband remained faithful to me until his death and I cannot quite imagine the pain in your heart–I see how you have love for my son, even if you nor him have known it, I do understand,” Alicent took a breath, closing her eyes. “This is the way of men. And princes–”

“Please, Your Grace, I mean this with utmost respect for you but I do not wish to hear your excuses,” you whispered. There was a prickly, breathless worry that had settled in your gut. What did you not know? Was this Alys someone who mattered? “But I would like to know what you are withholding from me about this woman. I believe I deserve that at the very least.”

Alicent stared at you for a moment, examining you. She could drive her son further into the ground with what she was about to say. “Aemond had a paramour–at least it was rumoured, he never spoke of such things with me. Alys Rivers, a wetnurse and servant woman from Harrenhal.”

“A paramour?”

“It was before you were married,” Alicent was quick to clarify. “I had assumed that Aemond wanted nothing more to do with her when she left–at his order, I believe. Some say she was a witch. Perhaps she enchanted him.” 

You couldn’t look at her. She was more than just a whore? Had he lied to you right from the beginning? Bile rose up in your throat. There was a thrum in your ears, the sound of your own heartbeat and you feared that you would be sick from the drop in your gut. 

“Did he love her? Could he still?”

Alicent sucked in a breath. “I do not know, my child.”

All you could do was nod pathetically. Alicent was a woman of great strength and dedication; you had once wished to be much like her one day. But as you sat beside her now, you wished she had been a liar and a cheat and a meddling gossip. That you could find a way to fault her words but you could tell it caused her great difficulty to speak of Aemond’s actions honestly. 

Ever poised and elegant, Alicent only leaned forward to you, her posture straight as a needle and her touch soft as linen. “I did not mean to upset you further. I only meant to speak with you about returning to Courtly activities, with the other Ladies and Helaena has been asking for you. And the Ladies speak–”

“They speak terribly of me,” you scoffed, allowing a humourless laugh. “I understand, Your Grace. I will return to spending my days in company other than my own.”

Alicent hated to pry but she felt that she must, now that she had dealt her cards against Aemond’s fate. “Perhaps you should speak with Aemond. He cares for you deeply. It would be a shame for your union to fall apart over such misunderstandings.”

If not for formality, you would have rolled your eyes. Again, you simply nodded, your mind reeling back to the woman that Alicent had given a name to. You would ask Aemond about her. It would be the less damning option rather than turning to Aegon once more but the idea of speaking to Aemond about a woman he may once have loved still made you want to crawl underneath the sheets of your bed and disappear. 

You thought of the woman who you had seen through the crack in the door and wished you had taken extra care in looking at her. There was little you could recall other than the darkness and length of her hair, the paleness of her skin and the perfection in her curves as she pleasured Aemond and as he did the same for her. 

As if she was familiar with all the things that made him weak. All the things that made Aemond weak. How she had touched him like she was an expert in his body. And you thought of Aemond, bare and comfortable with her. Aemond with his sapphire glimmering under the lamplight instead of an eye, a rawness and trust that you had never seen of him until that night. 

He trusted her.

Alys Rivers. 

.....................................................

Tagging: @padfooteyes @thedyingwriter @mamawiggers1980 @queenofshinigamis @ewanmitchellfanatic @nurtargaryen

[surielstea]

“Forgive me, Darling.”

Based on this request.

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Rhys undermines Reader in front of the Hewn City, Reader makes him grovel before she accepts his apologies.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | apology sex | dom sub dynamics | riding | oral (f receiving) | Reader making Rhys grovel | multi-orgasm | cream-pie | mating press

A. Note: This was really an excuse for me to write some Rhys smut… RhysandWeek got to me I fear, half of it is smut so enjoy 😼🙏

4.7k words

It was an effort to sit next to the High Lord tonight. Even with Winter Solstice so steadily approaching we couldn't stop being at each other's throats for the past week. The others in the Inner Circle were sick of our tedious bickering by now, and the rest of the Court might as well be too.

It was clear to the citizens of the Hewn City that we weren't getting along the best when we sat in our own separate thrones, while I typically opted to sit in Rhys' lap or he on the armrest while I took the main throne.

But it was the citizens of the Hewn City themselves that had cleaved our relationship right in two. While I was a natural sympathizer for these people, Rhys seemed to have half a thought about their well-being.

It drove me mad how easily he could cherish and love something, then turn around and loathe something else with the same fierceness. It was manipulative and vexing.

"Your grace," Keir drawled with a low bow and Rhys lifted a brow at Morrigan's poor excuse of a father.

"What is it?" The High Lord mused, the perfect mask of bored coldness in his violet eyes.

"The court was wondering if you'd be donating to the gift drive this season, all funds would go directly to the orphaned children of course," Keir said with a tone that sent shivers down my spine.

Rhys opened his mouth to say no, but I spoke first. "Of course Keir. We're not monsters," I say, tossing my mate a lethal glare.

"Are you mad? No," He looked to Keir. "I will not be donating, but you can tell them their queen will have a heavy chunk coming from her paycheck," Rhys bit back and the verbal assault immediately bruised her, tearing her down for speaking over him in a place like this was one thing but, in front of Keir? Using him as a device to get under my skin? It was a new level of low.

I bit back a snarl. "You're both insufferable," I stand. "And you bore me," I step down the dais with a careful queenlike elegance that came with only decades of practice. "I'm going home, perhaps finish some last-minute gift shopping," I shrug, my black gown shimmering like the stars in the sky with each move I made.

"I'll join you momentarily," Rhys said with a hand up as if to pause me. I didn't wait for him to finish before I winnowed back to Velaris, alone.

I was born in the Hewn City, and though I knew it was best if Rhys put on a mask in front of that court, it was hard to watch my mate who had one of the biggest hearts I'd ever seen be so cruel, be exactly what those citizens had expected him to be. A monster. A shiver went down my spine at the thought. It was a part of my role as High Lady to back whatever Rhys decided, but it was a part of his role to do the same with me. And when it came to the children of the Hewn City I drew the line, they had done no wrong, and half of them were too young to even realize that their king was a halfbreed, much less why that meant he was seen as lesser. They were innocent, doomed for failure since the beginning because of who their parents were. I sympathized with the orphans and knew exactly how much a donation would've mean to me because I used to be one of them.

Rhys winnowed into the sitting room, writhing shadows feathering off of his dark tunic as he whirled towards me, brows drawn.

"What'd you do that for?" He frowns at me and I mirror it.

"Children Rhys? Should I even dare ask when it might end?" I prop my hands up on his hips and he sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

"You know how I handle those things, I tell Keir no and then donate anonymously," He explained, annunciating every word like I was hard of hearing. The tone set me off. He was right, that's how we did it every year for solstice since Rhys became High Lord.

But tonight was my breaking point after weeks of needless arguments. "Yes, Rhysand. I know." I grit my teeth and his frown deepens as he hears me use his full name, something I always did unconsciously when I wanted him out of my face.

"Then why did you say we'd donate?" He lifts a brow and my shoulders are practically up to my ears with the tension building.

"Because, Rhysand, I'm so sick of you pretending to be someone that you're not," Again, the name makes him flinch. "I know how much you're capable of loving, and I understand you trying to protect us but I can't bear seeing you so ruthless to those people," I explain and he lets out a long sigh.

"You don't seem to understand the impossible situation I'm in." He closes his eyes, needing to rest them if only for a moment.

"What don't I understand?" I grab his jacket, gently gripping it as I stare up at him. "I've been beside you every step of the way, talk to me Rhysand. Or this isn't going to work," I gesture between us and his back shoots ramrod straight, at the underlying threat of taking a break from each other. He loathed the idea, and would rather argue for the rest of his life with me than not have me in his life at all.

"Don't say stuff like that," He murmured, his voice clipped like he couldn't quite breathe right.

"Then think twice before undermining me in front of a male like Keir," I scowl. "Hewn City or not, you're not allowed to silence me." I brush past him, my shoulder ramming into his bicep as I stalk down the hall to our bedroom, shutting the door with a resounding thud, but Rhys remains pinned in the same spot, cursing himself over and over again for his foolish behavior.

Over the next few days, Rhys had done everything in his power to apologize. Giving me countless gifts, and heartfelt monologues about how sorry he was, he even donated a good portion of his gold to the Hewn City orphanage. But I didn't forgive him, because I was certain he had yet to understand how much this truly meant to me. Besides, a small part of me liked watching him grovel.

At dinner with the rest of the inner circle later that evening, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Rhys had reached for my hand beneath my table twice now and I shook him off both times. We had both silently agreed on pretending everything was normal between us in front of the others, not wanting to worry them about the health of their high lady and lord relationship. So I put on a mask, as he often did, and pretended everything was fine.

"I'll see you in a few days for solstice eve," I hum as Morrigan gives me a hug while standing halfway out the door in the cold.

"I got you an amazing gift!" She beamed while backing away and I gave her an incredulous look. There was no arguing that Morrigans gifts weren't unique and personalized, but they were far from amazing.

"I'm sure you did," I hum. "Goodnight, Mor," I lean against the archway of the foyer and she gives me a wave before slipping out the door. Once everyone was officially gone I turned back to the sitting room where Rhys was sitting, staring at me curiously like I was a thing to be analyzed. "What?" I bark, my smile dropping.

"You keep calling me Rhysand," He stands from his seat, looking at me with furrowed brows, his wings drooping slightly, nearly dragging on the floor as he strides towards me but stops an arm's length away.

"That's your name, is it not? Or would you like to argue about that as well?" I arch a brow and his frown deepens.

"No, I just— It's Rhys. It's always been Rhys between us, in fact, you're the reason everyone calls me Rhys." He claims and I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my gaze on him.

"This is what has been bothering you? This? Out of everything that has been going on, me saying your full name has gotten under your skin the most?" I scowl, unbelieving of his childish behavior.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, defeated.

"I know," I state.

"Then why?" His voice wavers. "Why can't I be forgiven?" He takes another step forward, nearly closing the distance between us if it weren't for his height.

"Because I don't think you've learned your lesson yet." I snarl and his brows crease, his familiar violet eyes glazing over.

"No please, I have darling," He cups my cheeks in his hands. "I have. I'm sorry." His hands were so gentle when holding my face as if I might break if he was any rougher.

I debated giving in for a moment, if only because my desire to feel his lips on mine again would be comparable to heaven— but I stayed strong, my own pride willing me to break away from his touch. "I know," I repeat, before walking down the hall and into our bedroom, closing the door behind me loud enough for him to get the hint that I didn't want to see him again that night.

A few days had passed and it was solstice eve, I was in the midst of getting ready for bed when there was a soft knock on my door. I didn't turn when the door opened, I knew who it was before he was even down the hall.

Rhys doesn't say anything, just stares as I take out my earrings and unlace my dress. I didn't mind him looking as I stripped down and changed into a soft, midnight blue nightgown, perhaps I was rubbing in the fact that he couldn't have me. Once I was finished I walked over to my vanity and began to comb through my hair.

"I can feel you staring, Rhysand." I finally spoke and I swore he growled at the name. I ignore it. He pushes off the doorframe and enters the room.

"What can I do it make it better?" I turn towards him to find him directly behind me, looking down at me with beseeching eyes. "I'm begging you," He whispers, our proximity so close that his nose was brushing against mine.

"You're begging me?" I raise a brow.

"Gods, yes darling. Do you want me to get on my knees and plead?" He suggests and I just stare at him as a reply, waiting.

His brows raise a fraction when he realizes I'm serious, and I cross my arms impatiently. It takes him a moment, but eventually, he drops down onto his knees.

His hands come to my hips and he looks up at me, his chin propped up on my stomach as he lets out a soft, "Please."

"Please what?" I place my hands on his shoulders, one of them finding its way into his dark, midnight-black hair.

"Please, forgive me." He murmurs. "Please, don't make us take a break." He continues, his hands on my hips tightening slightly. "And please, let me love you the way you deserve."

He had once told me he'd only ever fall to his knees for his crown, yet here he was, bending for me with only sincere affection in his eyes and regret forever making me feel like he deserved this.

I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him up, crashing his lips onto mine. I kiss him, deeply, with the passion and desire that had been building up for the past week. I had forgotten how addictive he was and didn't realize how badly I needed him until he leaned into the kiss and filled the gaping void inside of me with warmth.

"I missed you so damned much, darling," He sighs and I smirk against his lips.

"Yeah?" I slip from his grasp and take a seat on the bed. "Why don't you come over here and show me?" I purr, letting my legs fall open as he prowls towards me and again, gets down onto his knees.

I smile devilishly at him as he begins kissing and nipping at my thighs, beginning to make amends with his mouth rather than words.

His covetous hands slip beneath my short nightgown, gripping my hips and pulling me to the edge of the bed. I lay back onto my elbows, propped up enough to watch him as he made his way up my thighs.

Ever so gently, he pulls at my undergarments and I lift my hips for access so he can further slip the panties down my legs. With reverence his eyes flick down to my glistening core, then back up to my eyes, his gaze holding a certain emotion I don't think I've ever seen the High Lord hone before.

I nod my head and he wastes no time before placing an open mouth kiss to my folds, then dragging it through my slit in a slow, savoring lap. I let out a soft moan at the feeling of his warm tongue finding my clit with a languid stroke. My fingers weave into his hair as he begins to suck on the bundle of nerves, sending me into a spiral.

I looked down at him but he was already staring up at me. But once he sees my lustful expression he can't seem to control himself before he dips down and spears his tongue into me. I release a breathy moan at the intense feeling. How could I have ever robbed myself of this for so long? Gods it was evil the things he could do with that mouth.

His fingers dug into the flesh of my hips as he devoured me like a man starved, his tongue-twisting and curling against a sensitive spot that sent me closer to the edge. I was unable to stop myself from grinding up onto his face, and he let out a guttural groan as I did so, because he knew then that I wanted him, that he was making me feel this good.

I maintained eye contact with him as he continued to drive me wild, violet irises filled with both apologies as well as desire. He draws one of my legs over his shoulder to deepen his access and I pull at his hair.

"That's it, gods yes," I gripe as his tongue toys with the sensitive area nestled deep inside of me.

My head falls back to look up at the ceiling as he brings one of his hands down and his thumb begins to roll over my clit. I whimper at the stimulation, my toes curling as he begins rubbing tight circles. I buck my hips at the intense feeling and he groans against the feeling of me tugging on his hair, the sound reverberating up my spine. "That's my girl," He purrs as my release steadily approaches. "Come on my face, fall apart for me my darling," He says, his voice tender as he coaxes your climax to draw closer.

I couldn't deny his demand, my pleasure too high to even debate it. My peak reaches and with a cry, my body convulses and an intense wave of pleasure crashes through me. He supports me, his arms around my thighs grounding me, his eyes never leaving mine as he removes his tongue from my entrance and softly laps up my dripping folds, his mouth shimmering in my essence. But it was only pride in his eyes as I came down from my high that I recognized, pride and, something far more primal than human.

"I forgot how good you taste," He whispers against my core, cleaning every lost drop from me with his mouth.

Slowly, he backed away, licking his lips that were glistening in my arousal.

"I want to ride you," I confess and his brows shoot up with carnal desire. Yes, that was exactly what I wanted.

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down onto the bed, his head falling into the pillows as I flipped over him and began working at the buttons of his shirt.

His hands joined mine, helping me by thrashing it off. I smile and attach my lips to his tanned skin, my tongue running over the lines of his tattoo while he frees himself from the confines of his pants. My mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock already leaking with need. I bite at my lower lip as I grip his length, spreading his pre and using it as a natural lubricant. I pumped him once, then twice. My grip was rough and tight, his head fell back into the pillows as he groaned in pleasure.

"Oh, my darling," He sighs out as I press my thumb to his sensitive tip.

His hands come to my thighs as I lift onto my knees and begin dragging his cock through my folds, prepping him for an easy entrance. I swore he got harder the moment my arousal met his.

He looked back at me, his eyes low-lidded. "You look like a goddess," He breathes, his voice husky with restraint. I knew he wanted to push me down onto him, to take dominance and flip me onto my back. But he reigned in his control and kept himself at bay for now.

I smile devilishly at him as I aligned his throbbing cock with my entrance. His eyes flicked down to the view and I froze. "Look at me," I direct and his violet eyes flick back up to my gaze, and I watch his expression as I sink myself down to him so very slowly, inch by inch.

His face contorts into a mix of pleasure and agony. "This is torture," He hisses, his fingers digging into my thighs in an effort to keep restraint. "Please, darling," He whispered the plea and I couldn't help but fold under his yearning gaze.

"Please what?" I say through a soft moan, the stretch of him painful at first yet turned into pure pleasure moments later.

"Please, take all of me and move, now baby," He pants out and I smirk.

"I'm barely halfway down and I've got you this worked up?" I tilt my head demeaningly and he lets out a low, guttural growl.

"You know exactly what you're doing to me, so please, you can take it," He begs and I smile.

"I know I can, but can you?" I murmur, tracing lines along his torso, following his dark tattoo.

"Oh I can," He sighs, his eyes glinting with amusement and I realize he wasn't strained from needing more, he was in agony because his control was thinning. "But if you don't take all of me right now, I'm going to flip us over and fuck you until we both forget our own names." He warns and I smirk, leaning forward— in doing so making him slip deeper inside of me, the new angle eliciting a soft moan from me.

"Is that right?" I purr, my nails trailing down the side of his neck.

"Last chance, baby." His jaw feathers. "Sit down or I'm taking over," He snarls, gripping my hips tighter, prepared to make true of his threat. I smile, leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

I do as he says anyway, not wanting to take any chances. I let gravity make my last movement and allow myself to take all of his length, every last inch until he was fully sheathed inside of me and I was seated on him fully.

He lets out a long, deep moan, his head falling back into the pillows. "Gods, such a good girl," He praises, taking a few deep breaths and regaining his control.

Slowly I begin to rock my hips back and forth over him and he jerks at the movement, his hands tightening on my thighs as he begins to guide me over him, showing me exactly how fast he wanted me to go.

He lets out a string of curses as I set a pace, rolling and grinding over him, my thighs already burning with the movements. "Keep your eyes on me, yeah?" he says and I nod, as he slowly lifts me up on him, then pushes me back down, sending me into a rhythm. I began to bounce up and down on him, his thick length burrowing deep inside of me with each descent.

I keep eye contact with him, tears welling in mine as he lifts me faster, my breasts bouncing with the movement, and his captivating eyes don't miss it. "So beautiful," He whispers softly, his voice hoarse and strained as a string of moans escapes me.

"You like that baby?" He purrs, his gaze only sultry. I reply with a moan and a wicked smile forms over his lips as he pushes me to go faster, slamming me down into his hips, his tip brushing over my cervix.

He was enjoying this far too much, he was savoring the way I sounded, the way my body reacted. So desperate for a second release. I lean down, changing the angle and allowing him to hit my most sensitive point with the thick head of his cock.

"Gods, you feel so good wrapped around me like this," He purrs, his breath hot against my neck as his canines scrape against it.

I continue to fuck myself on him, my vision blurring as he abuses that sacred spot inside of me. "I'm close," I grunt, clenching my hands into fists as he spears into me, lifting his hips to help me reach that high.

"Yeah? Going to come, love?" He purrs into the shell of my ear and I nod, tears now slipping down my cheeks despite all my efforts to be in control.

"Yes, I can't control it much longer," I mewl, burying my nose into the crook of his neck.

He smiles, wrapping his arms around me. "That's okay, come for me darling," He allows and I find release, I finally meet my second orgasm.

"Rhys," I moan loud enough for the next room over to hear. Not Rhysand, but Rhys. The male's length twitches at the sound he so desperately had been needing to hear for the past week.

He didn't let me come down from my high for even a moment as he flipped me over onto my back, taking full control as he guided my legs up to my sides, folding me into a mating press.

"I'm not done with you yet, darling," He drawls huskily and my heart pounds against my ribs hard.

He pulls out to his tip and for a moment I'm gifted a kernel of relief, but it quickly ended when he pushed into me, spearing hilt deep as his heavy balls slapped into my ass. Arousal dripped down my thighs as he continued the movement and I turned into a moaning mess.

"You're so tight," He grunted out between thrusts. "Say my name again," He orders and I open my teary eyes to see him above me, his dark wings spread over us. Gods, he looked like a fucking devil like this. "Rhys," I plea and he smiles wolfishly.

"That's my girl, taking me so well," He praises, continuing to piston inside my puffy, overstimulated cunt.

He reaches down and I swear my heart stops as he makes contact with my pink clit. I whimper, my bottom lip wobbling as he pushes me towards yet another orgasm. "Come on baby, squeeze my cock," He demands and I writhe beneath him, clenching every inch of his length as he brushes my cervix repeatedly. His words and groans are a constant stream of encouragement as I hurtle toward my third orgasm.

I let out a loud, broken cry as my climax rips through me, each one more intense than the last. "Please, please tell me you're close," I beg as he lets out a choked groan, his movements becoming more and more erratic as control slips from his grasp. "Fuck, I am baby, I'm close," He pants out and I mewl his name desperately.

"Rhys, Rhys," I murmur like a chant, my mind too fucked out to think of anything else, just him.

"Look at me, I want you to watch while I come inside of you." He purred and my stomach twisted at his filthy words. My hands come around to his shoulders and I dig my nails into the muscle, clawing them down his back at the intense, unrelenting thrusting.

With a feral, desperate groan he buries his nose into my neck and finds his release, his warm seed spilling inside of me.  He shakes and trembles at the weight of his climax, he collapses down onto me, his body heavy and spent. His face was still buried in my neck as he regained his breath. "Fuck, I love you so much," He confesses as the sounds of our breathing fill the room.

"I love you, too," I whisper hoarsely, my voice shot from screaming his name. He nuzzles into my neck, placing gentle kisses along my collarbone slowly guiding my legs down and pulling from my entrance. "I'm sorry baby, I know you wanted to be in control but I— I can't help myself around you," He murmurs and I smile, pulling him into me for a loving kiss.

"Don't apologize, felt so good," I murmur tiredly. "Maybe we should argue more often," I add and he frowns at the idea and I giggle. "I missed you."

His eyes light up with pure adoration. "I missed you too," He hums, easing into the bed beside me and gathering me into his arms. "Now let's get you cleaned up."

The rush of solstice has passed and everything has returned to normal— well, almost everything.

The Court of Nightmares was teeming with its usual negative energy, the air thick with it. I had been seated in my own throne again, not quite ready to take up Rhysand’s lap in front of all the subjects again.

“My Lord,” Keir bowed low before the dais, then turned to me and gave me a simple bow of his head. Rhys gripped the arms of his throne at the action but remained calm all the same.

“What?” The high lord snarled.

“The price of the renovations of the homes in the slums are steadily increasing, to something far greater than what we can afford with the money you’ve so graciously given.” He hums and I sit up. I grew up in the slums, I would’ve taken a man’s life for the opportunity to proceed with the renovation plans I had given Rhys a few days ago, would’ve taken a lot more than a life to give to that community, actually.

“Then we’ll triple the funds,” I state and Keir casts me a glance, then looks back to Rhys. I wanted to rip his face off. I was seated on a throne before his people, I had the power to tear this entire court down and yet he treats me with such disrespect and contempt.

“Why are you still here?” Rhys asked the steward. “My High Lady has just answered your issue, did she not?” Rhys tilts his head with creased brows.

“Of course, my lord,” Keir bows to the male, and something in his spine locks and I know, know that Rhys’s talons had captured Keirs mind and was prepared to shatter it, until Keir turned to me and bowed at the waist, then lower, nearly falling to his knees.

“Dismissed.” Rhys hummed, waving his hand and releasing the males mind.

I smile as I watch him leave, and settled a little deeper into my throne. Oh, I liked this a little too much.

A flicker of Rhysand’s darkness curled caressed up my neck, to trace the contours of my jaw. I turn to look at him and give him a wicked smile, he mirrors it and we turn back to the Nightmare of a court we ruled over, together.

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[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟿𝚔 || 𝐎𝐔𝐓-𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐃

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You ask Sirius if he’d still love you if you were a worm.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Sirius Black x fem!reader

The Gryffindor common room was alive with its usual evening buzz. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the scattered armchairs and sofas where students unwound after a long day. Yet, something was distinctly different about this particular evening, and it wasn’t just the sight of Remus Lupin trying to hide a smile behind his book.

Sirius Black—usually the life of the party, the source of everyone's laughter—was pacing the room with the expression of a man who had just been told he was being disowned (again).

The reason? You, his usually forgiving and smitten girlfriend, were sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, glaring at him with the intensity of a thousand howlers. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife—or at least thick enough for Lily Evans to finally take notice.

“What’s going on with you two?” she asked, setting down her Muggle novel and looking between you and Sirius with a raised eyebrow.

James perked up immediately. “Yeah, Pads, why do you look like a puppy that’s been kicked? Did you finally tell her that awful joke about the werewolf and the moon?”

Remus shot him a look. “Don’t even think about it, James.”

But Sirius was too busy grovelling to engage in their usual banter. “It wasn’t a joke! I was just being honest!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with the kind of desperation that made Peter look up from his sweets.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest and shooting him a look that could have curdled milk. “Honest? You call that honesty? You could have at least pretended to be romantic!”

Peter, munching on a chocolate frog, looked between the two of you in confusion. “What did you do, Pads?”

Lily leaned in closer. “Yeah, what did you say that was so terrible?”

You finally looked up from your magazine, fixing Sirius with a glare that could melt the snow on the highest peak of the Forbidden Forest. “Do you want to tell them, or should I?”

Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again—like a fish out of water. “It’s not that bad…”

“Not that bad?” you scoffed, slamming the magazine shut. “I asked him a simple, hypothetical question—”

“A trap,” Sirius interjected quickly, holding up a finger. “A trap disguised as a question.”

You ignored him, continuing as if he hadn’t spoken. “I asked if he would still love me if I were a worm.”

A beat of silence.

Then, James erupted into laughter, nearly toppling out of his chair. “A worm? You asked him if he’d still love you if you were a worm?”

Remus was struggling to keep a straight face, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked between you and Sirius. “And… what did you say, Sirius?”

Sirius looked pained. “I… I said no.”

James fell out of his chair for real this time, clutching his sides as he howled with laughter.

Lily, however, looked scandalized. “You said no?”

Sirius nodded helplessly. “But—”

Lily cut him off with a look of pure betrayal. “Why would you say no? She asked you if you would still love her as a worm, Sirius! The correct answer is always yes!”

“I know that now!” Sirius exclaimed, looking around the room as if begging for backup. “But at the time, I wasn’t thinking about the emotional implications! I was thinking about the logistics!”

James was gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he tried to compose himself. “Oh Merlin, this is too good. Padfoot, mate, you’ve really done it this time.”

“What logistics?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not that complicated! Would you still love me or not?”

Sirius threw his hands up in the air. “But you’d be a worm! How am I supposed to know it’s you? What if I accidentally step on you, or you get eaten by a bird? And what would we even do together? It’s not like we could… I don’t know, go on dates or—”

You rolled your eyes so hard you could’ve seen the back of your skull. “That’s not the point, Sirius! The point is that you didn’t even hesitate to say no. I could’ve been anything—a cat, a dog, a bloody flobberworm—and you just shot me down!”

Sirius threw his hands up in the air. “Well, yeah! I mean, how am I supposed to love a worm? It doesn’t even have a face! Or a personality! It’s just… squirmy and gross!”

You shot him a withering look. “So that’s it, then? You’re only with me because I have a face?”

“Wha—no!” Sirius spluttered, eyes wide. “That’s not what I meant at all!”

Remus, barely containing his amusement, decided to chime in. “Pads, I think what she’s trying to say is that you should’ve said yes, no matter how ridiculous the question was.”

Sirius looked like he was having an existential crisis. “But it’s a worm! How am I supposed to kiss a worm? Or hold hands? Or—”

You cut him off, your voice icy. “Oh, so that’s all I am to you? Someone to kiss and hold hands with?”

Sirius’s eyes widened in alarm. “No! That’s not it at all!”

James was now thoroughly enjoying the show. “Sounds like it to me, Pads. You’re only in it for the snogging.”

Peter, ever the peacemaker, tried to step in. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that…”

But you were on a roll now, standing up from the sofa and glaring down at Sirius, who was still kneeling in front of you. “If I were a worm, Sirius, I’d have a heart, even if it’s small and squishy! But apparently, that’s not enough for you!”

Sirius, now in full panic mode, reached for your hands, trying to make you sit back down. “But I don’t want you to be a worm! I love you as you are—human, beautiful, with a proper face!”

You yanked your hands back, crossing your arms again. “So you only love me because I’m not a worm. Not because of who I am.”

Remus snickered behind his book. “You’re in deep now, mate.”

Sirius shot him a desperate look. “Not helping, Moony.”

Remus decided to step in. “Sirius, you have to understand—these questions aren’t about the actual scenario. It’s about the sentiment behind them. She was looking for reassurance that your love is unconditional.”

Sirius threw his hands up. "But it was a worm! I thought honesty was important!"

You finally looked up, narrowing your eyes at him. "Honesty? You just admitted you wouldn’t love me if I was a worm, Sirius. That’s not honesty, that’s cruelty!"

Peter piped up, "But… how would he know if the worm was you?"

Everyone turned to Peter, who shrinked slightly under the attention. "I mean… if you were a worm, how would Sirius know? And… does a worm even have feelings?"

Lily shakes her head, still laughing. "You boys are impossible. The worm is a metaphor, you idiot!”

Sirius rubbed the back of his head, still looking confused. “A metaphor for what?”

You sighed, leaning back against the sofa cushions. “For love, Sirius. For whether or not you’d love me no matter what.”

Realization dawned on Sirius’s face, and he looked genuinely horrified. “Oh… Oh. I see now.”

James, having finally caught his breath, piped up, “Well, it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? You’ve got to make it up to her now, Padfoot.”

Peter nodded sagely. “You really messed up this time, Sirius. Girls don’t just ask you if you’d love them as a worm for no reason.”

Sirius turned to you, eyes wide with desperation. “Okay, I get it now. I was wrong. I should’ve said yes. I should’ve said I’d love you even if you were the slimiest, wriggliest worm in the world.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting him squirm under your gaze for a moment before speaking. “And why should I believe you?”

“Because,” Sirius said, his voice softening as he took your hands in his, “I love you. And I don’t care if you’re a worm, or a dog, or a… or a Blast-Ended Skrewt. I love you for who you are, not what you are. And if you were a worm, I’d find a way to make it work. I’d carry you around in a little jar, and I’d protect you from birds, and… and I’d even learn what worms like to eat!”

But you weren’t having it. “Too late for that, Black. You’ve already made your feelings clear.”

James leaned back in his chair with a smug grin. “You know, Pads, if you’d just said yes in the first place, you wouldn’t be in this mess. But now, she knows your true feelings.”

Sirius turned back to you, his expression one of pure, unadulterated pleading. “Please, love, I’m sorry. I was just being stupid. You know I’d love you no matter what, even if you were… I don’t know, a Blast-Ended Skrewt!”

You blinked at him. “A Blast-Ended Skrewt?”

Sirius nodded earnestly. “Yes! Anything but a worm!”

Remus couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. “And you think that’s better?”

Sirius groaned, running his hands through his hair again. “Okay, bad example. But you get what I mean, right? I’m sorry. I love you—worm, human, Skrewt, whatever.”

You paused, staring down at him as he knelt before you, looking thoroughly pathetic. The room was silent, all eyes on you as they waited to see what you would do next.

Finally, you sighed and sat back down, though you still kept your arms crossed. “Fine. I forgive you. But you’d better start thinking before you answer stupid questions in the future.”

Sirius beamed, his relief palpable as he quickly scooted closer to you on the sofa. “I promise! No more stupid answers!”

James leaned over, whispering to Remus. “Bet he’ll say yes to anything she asks now.”

Remus smirked. “No doubt about it.”

Sirius, now fully back in your good graces, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. “So, just to be clear… I’d love you no matter what, even if you were a worm. A very cute worm.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, though you tried to hide it. “Good. Because if you ever hesitate again, I might just have to turn you into one.”

Sirius laughed, pulling you closer. “And I’d still find a way to love you.”

James, watching the two of you, sighed dramatically. “Merlin, if this is what love is like, maybe I’m better off single.”

Lily rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully. “Oh, please. You’d have said the same thing if I’d asked you.”

James grinned, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You wouldn’t have to ask. I’d love you no matter what.”

Lily blushed, playfully shoving him away. “You’re ridiculous.”

James smirked. “So, Sirius, if she were a Blast-Ended Skrewt—”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, “We are not going down that road again.”

Hope you all liked it!

[trulyumai]

making it right

—pairing: eddie munson / reader

synopsis: feeling guilty for the harsh words he gave you, eddie tries to make it right. will you forgive him or could this be the end of the iconic couple?

—warnings: none, just eddie being whipped for reader and groveling over his actions.

a/n: I love writing about Eddie so look for future works coming soon!

It was Friday night, most highschool seniors would be out partying, getting drunk and making out with some random person in the corner of the room. 

But not you. 

Laying flat on your bed, your rotary phone lays against your ear with the wire stretched to the max. Your friend had been rambling onto you about Eddie, how it wasn’t right he treated you like that, you were too good for him, the usual. 

Charlotte, the rambling girl was always saying how you deserved better. Even tried to set you up with a couple athletes from the school. 

Ever the shy introvert you turned out to be, it was awkward trying to turn down such boys; always immature about the situation. Saying they didn’t want to date anyway, yada yada. 

“I can’t believe you’ve gone this far with him,” Charlotte's voice rang out and your fingers twirled up in the phone's cord. Idly twisting and turning with the coils as you zoned out unconsciously. “I mean, look how he dresses for god's sake. Does he even own a shower?” Suddenly, a tapping ensued upon your window. 

It was slow at first, until it gradually picked up and you could ignore it no longer. 

“Char, I gotta go but I’ll call you back.” Interrupting her mid sentence the phone smacked down on the dial. 

Toes meet the wooden floor, you cautiously made your way to the locked window just in front of your bed. Peering out, nothing came into view. 

Dink! 

Something smacked the window hard, hard enough to leave a little chip in the glass. 

“Hey!” Having enough, you aggressively shoved the glass up, going as far as to shove half your body out the crevice to catch the perpetrator in act. 

“—sweetheart!” And there he was in all his glory. Eddie Munson. 

And was that… marshmallows in his hand? 

“Sorry.. I couldn’t find any rocks so this was the next best thing.” A goofy smile lit up his features. And you wanted to cry. 

You missed him so much, that was true. But he was such an asshole you couldn’t help but ignore him for days on end, disappointed in the way he embarrassed you. 

“Go away!” Squinting at the man you moved quickly back in, shrinking into the darkness that swallowed your room. 

“Wait, wait, please!” Eddie begged. Setting the snacks and candies on the ground the man opened his arms wide. “Please just let me hold you? I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry.” 

You tugged on the drapes, ignoring his incessant pleas for comfort. 

“I brought snacks… your favorite! And I bought that cassette you left at my place, I'm finally ready to give it up!” No matter how much Eddie complained about your music choice, he had such a soft spot for you he made you a cassette for your last birthday. Full of classics and ��overrated,” songs, Eddie had so nicely put it. But after one night of staying over, you accidentally left it at his trailer. And the man never returned it. Secretly, he had been playing it in his room, over and over when he missed you. 

So it’s been used quite frequently these past couple of days. 

“You embarrassed me, Eddie.” 

“I.. I know sweetheart I’ve regretted it every minute since. I just worry for you.” 

You snapped back into view, hands gripping onto the bottom of the frame. 

“It’s not your concern, It's my life Eds. If I want you in it, there shouldn’t be a rule.” 

The curly haired man winced. Seeing you so angry made the man ball up upon himself. 

“You’re right. Absolutely. But being with me will forever mark you, honey.” 

Tears burned at your eyes, your fingers tried to brush them away before they cascade down the grooves of your cheeks. 

Seeing you so hurt, Eddie couldn’t help but sprout a few tears of his own. 

Shaky hands gripped at his jeans and he no longer felt the confidence surge through him. 

What if this was actually it? 

“I don’t care about stupid reputations, why can’t you see that? I care about us, our lives, our future. The little house you promised me and the porch you swore you’d build.” 

A wet laugh escaped Eddie as he remembered such a scene. You were lying in his bed, scraping nails against his wild hair as the man listened to your dreams—aspirations. You told him how you’ve always wanted a forever home with a garden right in front. He didn’t hesitate to promise such a thing to you. Even now he held it in his heart. 

“I want that too sweetheart, more than anything.” 

Man did he look pathetic, barely catching a wink of sleep Eddie looked more chaotic than usual. 

He did look sorry… empathy corroded up your bones, slowly gnawing away any contempt you once held for him. 

“Let me come up, please?” A brash side of you wanted to say no, to flip him off and take some recommendation from your friends. But who were you kidding? It was your Eddie. The man who would hold your hair back when you got sick, the man that would buy you little trinkets and find rocks that he thought you would like. 

You wanted him to stew in the pot of sadness for just a little longer, so a remark left your lips and it couldn’t be pulled back. “What's stopping me from moving on, from dating someone like… Steve?” 

A tight ball of jealousy nested into the man, with tight fists Eddie felt his brows furrow, blue veins sprouted from his knuckles and he could only choose to shake off such irreplaceable words. “Steve, baby? Like that man could make you half as happy.” 

“He wouldn't have yelled at me like that.” Eddie's eye twitched instantly, what was with this new attention on Steve, did he say something, did he already make a move on his girl? 

No way in hell.

“Okay, okay. I see what you're doing sweetheart. But would Steve wake up in the middle of the night to check on you? Would Steve drive you home everyday and rub your back every night?” The man went on. “Or know you're sad when you can’t make eye contact, know that you love blueberry pancakes with a touch of powdered sugar-” 

“Okay, okay I get it!” You smiled, dimples adorning your cheeks. Eddie looked purely smitten, glancing at you with wide eyes and wet lips, a tongue poking out every so often out of nervousness. 

Lightly shuffling on both feet, you nodded to him, signaling for him to come up which earned a high pitched squeal in return. Realizing how unmanly that was, the guitarist cleared his throat before moving.  

Big arms wrapped around the various candies littering your lawn, pressing them in his jacket the man began his climb. 

With each foot scattering across the various stones that stuck out of your outside wall, Eddie began his ascent. 

“Careful!” You breathed, always nervous watching the lanky man carelessly move across the material. With how much he had crawled his way up, finger marks dotted the dirt that lay upon the sides. A clear indication of his many adventures to your room. 

“Do not worry, fair maiden, I—oh,” the open bag of marshmallows dribbled down from their container. With light smacks you heard them making contact with the grass below and Eddie brushed out a laugh of embarrassment. “I’ll buy you new ones.” He promised. 

Rolling your orbs you helped pull him in. Grabbing at his jacket you backed up. The man fell unceremoniously onto your floor with a loud slam before shaking it off and grabbing at your form. 

His breath dusted across your neck, light kisses found their way up your face until one was pressed onto your smooth lips— it was soft, just a peck as the man was scared to come off as too desperate and for you to shove him off in disgust. 

No thing happened, you happily embraced his warm presence. You had no idea just how much you missed him until the familiar musky scent entered your senses. It was almost heavy—sweet with a pinch of cinnamon and some kind of deodorant. 

Eddie groaned, falling onto his knees in front of you, as if praying to your very being. Wide hands played out onto your hips, pulling you in even closer until his chin rested upon your belly button. 

Now fully looking up, you could see how his eyes lit up against the moonlight— wet and remorseful. 

Your hands gathered around his face, with brittle movements you swiped them against the tear stricken cheeks. He leaned in further, not leaving an inch to be spared between the two of you. 

A smile, so content and relaxed appeared onto the man. He held so much love in his orbs, you couldn’t help but smile back in return. 

“You're such an idiot.” Although the words sounded harsh, they were mulled over with honeydew eyes and soft spoken affection. 

Eddie let out a closed lip laugh, one that was deep, it  reverberated through his chest before a response came out.

“At least I'm your idiot.” 

Maybe you weren’t at some party or hanging out with friends. 

But at least you had your Eddie. And that’s all you could ever need.

----

----

Taglist below!

@itzkawaiix @nika-sophie05 @anukulee @littlefreckles4 @mylovelycrazyworld @ali-r3n @need-a-life-or-grass @undercoverlover420 (If i forgot anyone, please do not be afraid to let me know and I apologize in advance!)

[andersonfilms]

# LETTING IN WHITE HEAT ✶ abby anderson!

❝ vision go black, blood, letting in white heat.❞ ft. brakence

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, f!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, labeling this as dubcon bc abby is mean but she’s sweet after, mean!abby, top!abby, bottom!reader, sub!ellie, loser coded!ellie, voyerisum, kinda mean rough sex, jealous!abby, slight nipple play, strap use r!recieving, abby has one filthy mouth, mommy kink, aftercare, abby is kinda really mean

her jealousy is soft at first, small ticks easily missed if you weren’t looking. the way her blue eyes would become cold like the atlantic, void of any warmth anytime another girl hugged you for a little too long, lingering touch your smooth arms, or the one time at a frat part this ellie chick your hair wrapped around a slender finger. she wouldn’t really react, besides pulling you closer to her, resting her chin on your shoulder, abby’s long fingers intertwined with yours. she knew you were gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see it, people were going to hit on you and it maybe it was annoying at times when abby just wanted you to herself, but she ignored them and just focused on you. but tonight? god, she couldn’t control it. she was failed miserably to keep her cool. it was happening right in front of her, and you weren’t dismissing ellie’s advances like you normally would. no. not at all. you were encouraging her by batting your long, luscious eyelashes at her emerald eyes. leaning away from abby and into her, letting your fingertips grazing the tattoo on her forearm as you giggle, fucking giggling, at a lame joke ellie was telling you. abby would deck her if you wouldn’t get upset about it. you’d forgive her, eventually, but abby knew some groveling would have to happen on her end. no, she wouldn’t have it this way. still, the situation nagged her in way she despised. apparently abby wasn’t giving you enough attention you had to seek it elsewhere and god, abby was going to make you regret it. baby let’s go somewhere more quiet, yeah? your little friend can even come, quietly she whispered in your ear.

it’s how you ended up in this position, getting fucked within an inch of you life, on all fours and your delicate fingers gripping the railing of the frame at the edge, headboard crashing against the wall the abby’s thrusts. lamely, ellie was fully clothed sitting in a velvet green chair placed next to the mirror, not like she could move. abby made sure of it. her brown leather belt bound ellie’s wrist so they laid flat in her lap, lust building up in her eyes as she took in the scene before her. abby’s pierced nipples on display, burly arms flexing as they gripped onto your ass, slapping every few thrusts, letting her meaty hands smooth over the sensitive area. all ellie wanted was to be in the mix, but abby would not let her. every grunt from abby’s lips made ellie’s dripping pussy clench. it wasn’t fucking fair, her keeping you like this, all to herself. the recoil of your ass and abby’s moans mixed together was enough to make ellie cum just from rubbing her thighs against each other, but the blonde’s filthy mouth only made matters worse, pushing her to the edge quicker than she would have liked. really, even expected.

“what you think she could fuck better than me, baby? is that why you were flirting with her? huh? what? too drunk on my cock you can’t fucking talk?” abby laughed before picking up her pace, a light mumble of mommy slipped past your whimpering lips, but it was loud enough for them both to hear. “that’s right, baby. mommy always has to punish you when you’re being a spoiled brat. what? you think she can fuck you like this? she’s half my size. couldn’t even pick you up even if she tried.”

ellie felt humiliated but she couldn’t stop herself from the pressure building up in the pit of her stomach. “c’mon ellie, i know you’re close. show me what a fucking loser you are and come for me. right now, baby. yeah, just like that. ruin those pretty boxers for me.” it doesn’t take anything else ellie to squirm in the chair, spurts of white, hot cum flooding her boxers, pretty eyes rolling into the back of her head as she slumped in the chair.

abby could fully focus on you now, all the attention she could give fully on you.she slipped her the strap out of your swollen, puffy pussy and made you ride her. intentionally, she wanted to punish ellie. she wanted her to see the pussy she would never have, gush over abby’s cock. your beefy girlfriend watched as you bounced on her cock, the swell of your tits bouncing rapidly as you fully sat on the girth. abby could feel the base nudge against her clit each time, her breaths becoming more erratic, watching her stupidly pretty girl chanting out mommy mommy mommy as her hips jerked sinfully. abby decided to help you, even if you didn’t deserve it.

she met you halfway, bucking her hips, meeting you with her strong thrusts as she bent her head down to suck on the perky bud. “mommy, fuck, please can i come?” but it seemed abby still had a bit of cruelness left in her. she released your nipple with a soft pop! she shoved her middle finger and ring finger into your mouth, before instructing you “suck.” abby chose to ignore you, but you obeyed. continuing to ride her cock as she made you practically gag on her long digits. when she felt like you had enough, she circled them on your clit. “you tell me, baby? do you deserve to cum?”

abby smirked as your eyebrows furrowed, trying to concentrate enough so you wouldn’t come without her permission. she’d only punish it for you later when the two of you were back at home. “i think….” abby slapped your ass with her free hand, letting her blunt fingernails digging into the delicate flesh. “you’ve been a bad girl tonight. haven’t you? what have i told you before? c’mon, let me hear it.”

“mommy only lets good girls cum.” between every word, abby delivers cruel thrusts to your cunt, making your pussy clench around her cock.

then abby was whispering in your ear, “but since we have an audience, i’ll just punish you at home, yeah?” she pauses, before she applies more pressure on your clit. “now, ride my cock like you mean it, baby.”

once your pace quicken, abby could feel the pressure build up, could feel her clit pulsating. she was close, but she needed you to cum first. need more than the air she breathed. god, she knew you were close too. you were slamming on her cock, chasing the high you could only get from abby and she knew exactly what you were craving. she removed her grip on your ass guiding you and wrapped it around your throat, applying just the amount of pressure you craved.

“yeah, is this what you needed? just needed mommy to choke you? i know, babygirl. are you going to cum for me? yeah, you are aren’t you? cum all over my cock. fuuuckkkkk, yes. yes. good girl, such a good girl for me.” you practically screamed out her name as you squirt everywhere, abby finds her release with you. abby’s thighs, yours, the sheets beneath you drenched in your sweet slick. and all ellie could do was watch as you collapse into abby’s body. your entire body shivering as you seeked comfort in your lovers’ arms. she watched as abby soothingly rubbed your back from the tip of you spine to your lower back. whispering sweet nothings in your ear, but ellie couldn’t hear them, intentional by the blonde for her not to. abby nearly crumbled as she watched abby take care of you, cleaning you up and assisting you with putting on your clothes. you sat on the edge of the bed, completely in a daze, waiting for abby.

once abby was dressed, she walked over to ellie, towering over her, sitting or standing didn’t really matter. with a mean grip, abby held ellie’s chin, applying enough pressure to get her almost bruise. “next time you flirt with my girl, it’ll be you getting fucked an inch within your life and unlike my beautiful baby, i’ll leave you alone like the dirty slut you are, unable to fucking walk, talk, move. got it?” abby left with you in her arms, but to ellie it sounded more like music to her ears.

pathetically, ellie watched as the couple walk out of the room, abby whispering in your ear as abby kissed your temple, shutting the door behind them. and then it dawned on her. she was still fucking tied up. fucking anderson.

an: yeah.......so this is a thing. hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it! god do i need a blonde girl to fucking rail me

[daisymbin]

too handsome! - kim mingyu

warnings: alcohol & a bantering boogyu

pairings: kim mingyu x reader

genre: silly drunk confessions? friends to lovers!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: i can't believe this is the end of the drunken confessions series. I hope you had as much fun reading the series as I did writing them!! 🤍

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

you didn’t know what was more of a surprise: the sight of kim mingyu sprawled out on the living room floor, head resting against a pillow that had somehow found its way under him, or the fact that he was currently singing—if you could even call it that—an off-key rendition of a song you were pretty sure didn’t exist.

“mingyu?” you called out, stepping inside and carefully setting down the takeout bags you’d brought. “what... what happened here?”

seungkwan, who was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a resigned expression, gave you a look that screamed exasperation. “oh, thank god. finally. please come take care of your pouty big baby.”

you let out a laugh, glancing between him and mingyu. “what’s wrong with him?”

“what’s wrong with me?” mingyu repeated, his voice slurred but full of mock offense. he pushed himself up onto his elbows, glaring at you through half-lidded eyes. “you’re what’s wrong with me! you took forever! i almost died waiting.”

seungkwan let out an exaggerated groan. “he’s been whining for the past hour,” he said, waving a hand at mingyu. “going on and on about how you abandoned him and how the world is unfair and how he’s too handsome to suffer like this.”

“i am too handsome to suffer like this,” mingyu insisted, turning his pout on seungkwan. “look at me! i should be cherished, not left here to rot.”

joshua, who had been watching the whole scene unfold from the armchair, chuckled. “well, you know what a good bottle of whiskey does to him,” he said. “he doesn’t know how much he’s drinking until it’s too late.”

mingyu dramatically clutched his chest, letting out a loud, theatrical sigh. “betrayed by whiskey, yet again. the tragedy of my life.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, stepping closer to your overly dramatic best friend. “mingyu,” you said gently, kneeling beside him. “you’re not dying, okay? i’m here now.”

he looked up at you with wide, glassy eyes and a pout that would have melted even the coldest heart. “you’re finally here,” he whined, folding his arms. “but you were late! so late. and i was lonely.”

“i was gone for, like, an hour,” you pointed out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the giggles threatening to burst out.

“an hour is basically a lifetime,” mingyu shot back, flopping onto his back with another dramatic sigh. “you’re lucky i’m forgiving. but just so you know, i expect you to grovel.”

“grovel?” you repeated, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. “for what?”

“for breaking my heart,” he declared, pointing a shaky finger at you. “and leaving me here with seungkwan and his terrible attitude.”

seungkwan gasped, placing a hand over his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. “my terrible attitude? excuse me, i’m the only one keeping you from full-on sobbing and ruining the carpet. show some respect, kim mingyu!”

mingyu stuck out his tongue, earning a scandalized gasp from seungkwan. “you see this?” seungkwan turned to you, his expression as dramatic as ever. “this is what i have to deal with. he’s insufferable.”

“you’re insufferable,” mingyu shot back, though his words came out slightly slurred. “and mean. so mean. you should be nicer to me, seungkwan. i’m fragile.”

“fragile?” seungkwan repeated, looking like he might burst out laughing. “you’re built like a damn tank. the only thing fragile here is your ego.”

mingyu groaned, pressing his hands over his face, leaning closer to you. “ugh! see? he’s so mean. you should comfort me.”

“okay, okay,” you said, fighting back a smile as you knelt down beside mingyu. “i’m here to comfort you. no more bullying.”

mingyu peeked at you through his fingers, his lips forming a pout. “you always know how to make me feel better,” he mumbled, his voice soft. “even when i don’t deserve it.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, your smile fading slightly at the seriousness in his tone.

mingyu sighed, lowering his hands from his face. “you’re always there for me,” he said, his eyes growing glassy. “even when i’m annoying and whiny and... and so obviously in love with you.”

your breath caught in your throat. “what?”

his eyes widened in horror, and he immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. “what,” he mumbled through his fingers, panic flashing across his face. “uh-”

“mingyu,” you said, your heart pounding. “what did you just say?”

seungkwan’s jaw dropped, an "oh my god, he's stupid." slips out before he clapped a hand over his own mouth to keep from screaming. joshua leaned forward, eyes wide with disbelief.

mingyu, looking utterly betrayed by his own mouth, let out a strangled laugh. “um... surprise?”

you stared at him, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through you. “you... you’re in love with me?”

he groaned, dropping his head back onto the pillow. “i didn’t mean to say that,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “this is the worst. the absolute worst.”

“mingyu,” you said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “do you really mean it?”

he lifted his head just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. “yeah,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i really mean it. but if you don’t feel the same, please just pretend i never said anything. i can’t lose you.”

your heart swelled, and a smile slowly spread across your face. “you big, dramatic idiot,” you whispered. “how can i not?”

mingyu’s eyes lit up, and a slow, disbelieving grin spread across his face. “wait... really?”

“really,” you said, laughing as you cupped his face in your hands. “i like you, too.”

he let out a joyous, relieved laugh, grabbing your hands and pulling you into a tight hug. “this is the best day of my life,” he declared, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

“even though you embarrassed yourself in front of seungkwan and joshua?” you teased, pulling back to look at him.

he shrugged, a sassy grin spreading across his lips. “worth it,” he said, winking at you. “besides, i’m too handsome to be embarrassed for long.”

“oh my god, yeah and you're too handsome to be this oblivious yet here we are.” seungkwan groaned, throwing a pillow at mingyu. “get a room, you two! or better yet, get him to stop being so annoying & shut his mouth.”

mingyu caught the pillow and smirked, hugging it to his chest. “never,” he shot back, winking at you again. “being annoying is part of my charm, right?”

you laughed, feeling your heart swell with affection. “right,” you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

and as mingyu beamed at you, looking happier than you’d ever seen him. he's too handsome not to be loved, right?

[the-modern-typewriter]

Could you write a snippet about a sunshine civilian x terrifying villain?? The civilian doesn’t like “change” the villain but the villain does have a soft spot for them

"Would you like me to get involved?" the villain asked.

The civilian paused, halfway in the middle of doing the dishes. They started again smoothly enough - mind racing through their options.

Involved in what? Oh so innocent. An insult to them both.

How did you find out? Obvious. The villain made it their business to be aware of everything going in their general sphere.

Of course I don't want that. Of course I do.

"You're asking?" the civilian said, finally. "I didn't think your possessive streak would allow you to sit out on my battles."

"You enjoy your independence. I prefer not to upset you further."

The villain stalked across the room, taking a dish from the civilian's hand and beginning the work of drying it. It still caught the civilian off guard; to see them do such mundane things. A dark conqueror did not exchange his throne for a pair of sunny yellow marigolds.

Except, with them.

The civilian exhaled a slow breath.

"There's a limit, of course." The villain's voice was too casual. "If they'd laid hands on you..."

"I don't think any of your followers would be that stupid."

The villain didn't say anything to that, simply taking the next plate. The civilian didn't say anything either for the next few dishes, because dishes were annoying but easy and the villain's world was fascinating but hard.

"I can fight my own battles," the civilian said. "It's not a big deal."

"I know you can. And that's not the point."

The civilian huffed, finally daring a glance at their lover. The villain's gaze was an inferno. Dangerous. Teeming with violence. A carefully controlled fury. The civilian couldn't possibly look away from it.

The villain reached to turn off the hot water tap without breaking eye contact, head tilting a fraction. They raised an eyebrow.

"If you got involved," the civilian said. "They'd never dare so much as insinuate shit about me again. They'd be so polite."

"They'd get on their knees whenever you walked into a room." The villain's voice dropped instantly away from casual to velvet. "They'd ask permission before so much as looking at you. Would you like that?"

"No." Yes. Sometimes.

There was no judgment on the villain's face.

"It's not an impulse I want to indulge," the civilian amended.

"Mm, pity. I'd like seeing everyone on their knees for you. They'd grovel. Beg me for mercy and then beg you, when they realised I was not the one in a position to grant them forgiveness for their sins."

The civilian shivered.

The villain smiled. Their eyes lit up.

"Don't tempt me." The civilian elbowed them, gently, splashing soap suds everywhere. Then they pressed a kiss to the villain's shoulder. Their mouth only felt a little dry. "It would be terrible for my ego. I'd be insufferable. The power would go straight to my head."

The villain laughed and the civilian could finally look away, grinning ruefully to themselves as they shook their head. They turned the water back on and then did some more of the dishes, chest feeling a little lighter than before despite themselves.

"Thank you," the civilian said. "For asking."

"Do you know how you want to deal with the situation?"

"Honestly, I was just going to ignore it. I can handle people making snide comments."

"Boundary setting and discipline is important."

"This is why everyone is scared of you."

"This is also why no one would dare try and bait me in a conversation."

The civilian scrunched up their nose in acknowledgement of the point, glancing at the villain again. "Well, I don't want to sic you on them. As funny as their expressions would be, I'd feel really bad about it in the morning. And I don't want -" The civilian stopped.

"You don't want them to think you'll coming running to my coattails whenever the other kids on the playground are mean to you?"

"...not how I would have said it, but yeah," the civilian muttered, cheeks flushed.

The villain immediately leaned down to press a kiss to the warmed skin, seeming utterly unable to help themselves. The civilian could feel the villain's grin against their skin.

The villain would be delighted if the civilian did that, at least in part. It was the closest they could get to playing the protector, the anti hero.

"For what it's worth," the villain said, against their ear. "I don't care what they think about you."

"Lions rarely care about the inner workings of ants, it's true."

It was the villain's turn to huff. They switched the water off again, wrapping an arm around the civilian and bodily moving them away from the sink. Their lips dipped to kiss the civilian's neck. "Not an ant."

"Obviously, I'm the cutest ant around. No one's disputing that."

"You're my favourite thing," the villain said. They found the civilian's mouth and kissed that too, before straightening. When they looked down the inferno was still there (always there) but back down to its normal level of simmering. "My absolute darling."

"Yeah, yeah."

"So if you change your mind about your enemies screaming, sobbing for your absolution..."

The civilian rolled their eyes, and felt a smile tugging their lips even if they probably should have been horrified. They leaned in to kiss the villain in turn.

"I know who to call."

[jjkamochoso]

Nobody Got You the Way I Do

Angst, Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

No matter what problems you run into, big or small, you and Soshiro are always there for each other :)

Inspired by the Kaiju No. 8 outro song “Nobody” by One Republic

Warnings: light cussing, violence, mentions of blood, dead bodies, and people getting eaten by a kaiju

It's a bit of a long one so buckle up and enjoy! <3

[I'd take the fall/I got you covered when there's no one at all]

“There’s one more report that someone failed to turn in last night. Does anyone here have an explanation? Officer L/n?”

Your heart sank in your chest as you desperately tried to keep the internal freak out you were having from showing externally. You had forgotten to finish the last report of the night—well actually, morning, since it was 5 am when you finally left the office. You had written 10 other reports in a record time yesterday, somehow being on the recieving end of the Operations team’s grunt work even though you were a seasoned officer. You wanted to grip Captain Ashiro by the shoulders and force her to get a good look at your sleep deprived face so she understood that your forgotten report was a complete accident, brought on not by carelessness but by exhaustion, and then you would gladly grovel and beg for forgiveness so you wouldn’t get written up for your mistake. Before you could even move a muscle, though, Soshiro spoke up in your defense.

“My apologies, Captain, I had Officer L/n occupied as they helped me recount the details needed for my own reports. By the time we were finished, it was daybreak and I released them from their duties. You’ll have their report by noon today.”

Captain Ashiro gave a curt nod of acknowledgment before moving on to the next topic. When her back was turned toward you, you mouthed a thank you to Soshiro, who, in turn, shot you a wide smile.

[Oh, yeah, and I'd stay through the night/When you got demons tryna break through the walls]

You yawned, putting your feet in the slippers by your bed as you got up in search for a late night snack. You were having trouble sleeping and you figured a little walk and some food might help you relax. You padded through the quiet, dim hallways of the Defense Force base, your muscle memory taking you straight to the dining area without giving it a second thought. To your surprise, there was somebody already in there. You recognized the figure as your close friend Soshiro, but his body language was unlike anything you’d seen from him before. He had his arms outstretched in front of him, his fingers gripping the sides of the communal kitchen sink like it was a buoy in the open ocean. His chin was hanging low against his chest and you tried to make your footsteps a little louder so you didn’t sneak up behind him and accidentally scare him while he was in such a fragile state. You debated just leaving him be and heading back to your room so as not to bother him, but it seemed like he really needed someone there for him and you’d be damned if you let a friend suffer for no reason.

“Soshiro? Are you… is everything alright in there?”

You called out as softly as you could, but you saw the way his shoulders tensed up at your voice and your heart broke a little. The seemingly unshakable man you admired was seriously hurting and you were determined to help him get through whatever it was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

He flashed you a grin and a thumbs up to prove he was alright but his shaky breaths and dark circles under his eyes were telling a whole different story. Both of you knew you weren’t going to fall for such a blatant lie—you were much too observant and knew him well enough to know something was wrong. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to keep trying to push you away, though.

“Are you sure? No offense, but you don’t look it.”

“Really, y/n, I’m okay. Go back to bed, every good soldier needs their rest.”

No matter how long he kept up this act of nonchalance, you wouldn’t believe it for a second. Whether he wanted to fess up an explanation for his distress or not was his choice, but you were content to just give him company for a little while so he wasn’t alone.

“I think an impromptu hangout session would do us both some good right now since neither of us can sleep. My room’s a mess so we’ll have to go to yours if that’s cool.”

Soshiro’s eyebrows raised in a playful manner. “You want to go to my room after hours? If anyone sees us… they might get the wrong idea. People talk, you know.”

“So?” you questioned, grabbing a bag of chips from the cabinet. “Let them. I just want to talk with a friend and if that bothers someone, I couldn’t care less.”

He was too exhausted to argue so he let you lead the way out of the common area. When you made it back to Soshiro’s room, you both sat on his bed and munched on the food you brought. You kept the conversation lighthearted for a while before diving into the whole reason why you were there with him as the moon shone outside his window.

“So, do you wanna talk about earlier?”

“I do, but… it’s silly. Juvenile.”

“Who’s to say? I certainly won’t judge you,” you told him.

A few seconds passed, silence washing over you.

“I had a nightmare. Another one. They’ve been nonstop all night.”

That explained his jumpy demeanor and tired gaze.

“I’m sorry that’s happening to you. You deserve a time where you can escape all the shitty things you deal with in real life. It’s not fair you’re haunted at night, too.”

Soshiro was quiet as he nibbled on a chip, lost in thought.

“It’s the same one over and over again,” he continued after a bit, “the nightmare. I train, I fight, I lose, people die. It’s an endless cycle of my failure.”

You leaned in a little closer, sitting up on one arm while you rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’re hard on yourself for no reason and that stress is probably what causes the bad dreams. You’ve been a wise vice captain and a fierce fighter, taking down every kaiju you’ve come in contact with. I know you can’t will the nightmares away but just know that they couldn’t be further from the truth. The division puts its trust in you for a reason.”

Soshiro met your eyes as you sent a small smile his way.

“I put my trust in you for a reason, too, as you trust in me,” you explained. “There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side during hard times and I hope I can be that person for you as well.”

You gave his shoulder a final squeeze and moved your hand back to the soft comforter. His hand was ready to dash out and find purchase on your own, as a sign of comfort or something deeper he wasn’t sure, but he hesitated. The call of your bare skin wasn’t his to answer; he didn’t deserve your softness. He didn’t deserve this kindness and selflessness you were showing him as you listened to his foolish woes without judgement. What made him special enough to think he ever had a chance at seeing your enchanting figure at this hour every night for the rest of his life? If you weren’t in the room, he would’ve scoffed out loud. He was delusional. He was overly tired and emotionally drained, that’s all. There was no way he’d find himself as head over heels for you in the morning. You two were just close friends, that’s all. That was enough for him, wasn’t it? Why did he feel the burning desire for something more?

[There ain't no, no kinda line/That I wouldn't cross if you need me to/You're out here searchin' for signs/So I think it's finally time that you knew]

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you know.”

“That’s kinda hardcore considering we’re talking about a bottle of water.”

“Way to ruin the moment, L/n.”

Soshiro handed you your drink and you gulped it down gratefully. Actually, now that you’d given it more thought, you hadn’t even asked him for the bottle in the first place. Rather, you had made an off handed comment that morning during breakfast about wanting to be more hydrated throughout the day and Soshiro must’ve taken on the responsibility of making that happen.

“While I very much appreciate this gesture, aren’t you supposed to be in training?”

“I wanted to see you instead,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. “Besides, we can’t have our best operations officer wither away from dehydration. I’d be too lonely without you.”

He jutted out his bottom lip, making you laugh as you went back to work.

“Whatcha working on?” he inquired, spinning around in a chair.

“Strategic planning and city evacuation plans.”

“How thrilling.”

“S’not so bad,” you murmured, deep in thought. “And actually I’m glad you’re here because you’re the perfect man for this question.”

“You could’ve stopped at ‘perfect man’ and I would’ve suggested to the brass you needed a raise,” Soshiro teased, instantaneously on his feet to peruse the papers you had sprawled on the table.

“You could’ve omitted everything in that sentence except for the part about the raise,” you shot back, Soshiro sticking his tongue out at you. When you got to talking about work, it was like a flip of a switch with Soshiro. He immediately turned from joking to serious, listening intently to your question and helping you find the most logical solution. As he pored over the map in front of him, you noticed he was standing close to you so you took the time to observe the finer details about your friend. His violet hair was hanging loosely and framing his face perfectly. His toned arms were on full display from where the short sleeves of his tight training shirt ended. Speaking of tight shirt, it was ridiculous the way his broad, muscled back was having you almost gasp for air. However, it certainly wasn’t only his physical appearance that left you breathless. It was the way he made plates for you at meals when you were running late. It was the way he encouraged you to try your best during physical training, even if you were nowhere near having the prowess of soldiers on the front lines. It was the way he sought you out at any given moment. It was the way he was always there for you no matter what. You groaned inwardly. Your life would be so much less complicated if you didn’t realize you had caught major feelings for your close friend. Relationships were strongly discouraged in this line of work due to the danger you were constantly in and the lack of a promised future for any members of the Defense Force, but there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind saying that it was how you felt in the present that mattered, not what the future may or may not bring. Still, no matter if you thought about Soshiro romantically or platonically, there was one undeniable truth he needed to hear from you.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, either.”

Tearing his gaze from the map, Soshiro turned to you, mouth opened in surprise at your admission before quickly closing it again, his eyes softening as his heart swelled in his chest. You said the words with such conviction that it made him want to marry you on the spot.

“Vice captain!”

The wheezing voice of Kafka Hibino rang through the room, breaking the eye contact between you and Soshiro.

“Y-you’re needed… at the training grounds… right away.”

Kafka looked like he was a second away from passing out with the way he was clutching his chest and gasping for air. You quickly came to his aid by dumping the contents of your bottle into his mouth as he drank it greedily. Spilled water dribbled down his chin as he thanked you profusely, looking at you like you hung all the stars in the sky.

“Hibino!” Soshiro’s eyes were narrowed more than usual as he addressed his soldier. “Go refill Officer L/n’s bottle. If you take longer than 20 seconds, you don’t get any more water breaks for the rest of today’s training.”

“Yes sir!”

Kafka ran with the speed of a cheetah and you swatted at Soshiro’s arm lightly.

“The poor guy was on his deathbed, cut him some slack. I could’ve refilled the bottle myself.”

“I know.” His lips curled up slyly. “But it’s fun to mess with him and I like taking care of you.”

You wanted to explore that sentiment a LOT further but your moment with Soshiro was over as Kafka burst through the door again, your water bottle filled to the brim. You thanked him and the men were on their way out, Soshiro sending you a wave that you gladly returned.

“You’re always happy but you look more smiley than usual, sir. Was it because of y/n?”

Uh oh. Did I say that out loud? thought Kafka.

“15 laps around the building for being nosy and 100 push ups for referring to a superior improperly.”

“But-”

“20 laps and 150 push ups. Or does 25 laps and 200 push ups sound better?”

“N-no, Vice Captain! I’m sorry!”

Kafka took off at full speed, not wanting to incur any more punishment as Soshiro just shook his head, laughing to himself.

[Nobody got you the way I do/Whatever demons you're fightin' through/When you need somebody to turn to/Nobody got you the way I do]

You were having a really, terribly, horribly shitty day at work. Nothing was going right: all of your coworkers were in a bad mood, the computer system kept crashing and losing your saved data. You were beyond ready to clock out as soon as time allowed, but you were ordered to stay behind and go through computer files to double check none of the information had been compromised. You didn't know what divine figure you must've upset because there could be no other explanation as to why you were always being punished like this. Competency was truly a curse, and since you were the best at your job, along with everyone else's, you continuously got the task of making sure the Operations team didn't fall apart. It was an honor to be seen as responsible and irreplaceable in the eyes of the higher ups, sure, but not at the expense of your mental health. By the time you were finished, it was another late night at the office for you, but at least it was over. You gathered your things and trudged toward your room, eager to lay down and give your tired eyes a break. You rounded another corner of the building but stopped in your tracks when the light of the training room practically blinded you from down the hall.

"Waste of electricity," you grumbled to yourself, walking over to turn off the light. To your surprise, you heard footfalls and grunts from inside. Who would be up training this late? Your question was answered as you observed Soshiro fly around the room, swinging his practice swords with precise movements.

"Y/n!" he greeted when he spotted you in the doorway, ceasing his training, "I missed you at mealtime. Don't tell me you found another table to sit at."

He wore a fake frown that was replaced by his signature smile in an instant, his canines peeking out of his mouth.

"I'm glad you came away unscathed today. I heard it was brutal in the office."

"Brutal is definitely one word for it," you said, sitting on a weight bench. "I want to cry for hours on end but I think my body's too tired to let go of the tears."

Soshiro set his swords down and took up the spot next to you, his leg brushing against your own.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You would've loved nothing more, but you didn't want to bother him with nonsensical babbling about how sucky your day was. His work was vital and you refused to be the one preventing him from continuing it.

"I appreciate the offer," you said, standing up and already missing the feeling of his leg on yours, "but I should let you get back to training. Ranting about my work annoyances aren't crucial to humanity's survival like your training is, so I'll see you later."

You turned away, ready to walk to your room, when the vice captain hurriedly took hold of your hand to stop you from leaving.

"Wait," he said, his tone affectionate yet pleading, "let me be there for you like you were, and always are, there for me. I want you to know you can turn to me at times like these. I won't push you away."

You stared at each other in silence before he spoke once more.

"Please don't go."

Your dam of tears burst.

You didn't know who pulled who in first, but it was of no importance--the only thing that mattered was that Soshiro was offering you a safe space to let go of the misery you'd been holding in for much too long. Your tears were easily escaping down your cheeks, soaking the back of Soshiro's shirt.

"It's okay, I'm here, I'm here," he soothed. The feeling of safety and security in his arms was something you hadn't felt in a long time and was almost too much for you to bear, making you cry even harder. As more tears fell, you felt his grip on you tighten and you returned the favor, hanging onto him like he was your lifeline. His nimble fingers slowly worked their way up and down your back, sliding around in a comforting manner. His familiar scent wafted up your nostrils, doing wonders to calm you down after your outburst.

"Shh, you're alright," he cooed, his voice as warm and gentle as a summer breeze. "Today was a bad day but they don't last forever. Tomorrow will be better, I promise. You'll get though it. And if you can't get through it on your own, then we'll get through it together, okay?"

You sniffled and nodded your head, making Soshiro relieved that his comforting skills weren't as bad as he thought they might've been. You didn't know how long you stayed with your arms wrapped around each other but you wished it could be forever. You finally pulled away from Soshiro's embrace when you felt like you were about to fall asleep on his shoulder.

You let out an awkward laugh as you wiped away a stray tear. "Soshiro, I... I'm sorry you had to see that. But thank you."

He was completely unbothered, it seemed, as he brought you in for one last hug. The temptation to press a chaste kiss to the top of your head was strong, but his will was stronger, opting to leave you with some final words from his heart instead.

"Don't worry about it, y/n, you know I always got your back. Nobody's got you the way I do."

[When you go dark and the night gets so cold/I'll be on my way to you/You know I ain't tryna lose you, oh, no/If you're in Hell, I'll go there too/There ain't no, no kinda line/That I wouldn't cross if you need me to/You're out here searchin' for signs/So I think it's finally time that you knew…]

"Vice Captain! The kaiju is exhibiting strange behavior! It's headed for the train stati-"

The communications line went dead.

"Operations, do you copy?"

No answer.

"This is Hoshina. Is anyone there?"

Static crackled in Soshiro's ear and he growled in frustration, fighting the urge to rip out the useless earpiece and trample it. Did they say the train station? This kaiju was being a real piece of work. Their kind is usually predictable and easy to understand, but this one just had to be unique, didn't it? Soshiro sighed, running to catch up to other members of the Third Division to regroup and strategize.

"Nakanoshima! Do we have eyes on the kaiju?"

"Yes, sir!" the pink haired woman said, "it's like Ops said, headed toward the train station. They're trying to evacuate right now."

"Right. Thanks."

This was NOT good. A kaiju, especially the honju they were dealing with, could kill a lot of people in a short amount of time and the stations was always jam packed at in the evening. Since comms were down, Soshiro figured cell service was too, but it didn't hurt to check. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. Nothing. However, he had one unread message from earlier that must've come through before the signal cut out.

Y/n: That meeting was sooo boringgg :((( but my train got here earlier than expected so I'll get to the station around 5:15! When I'm back on base I'll treat you to dinner... at the dining hall lol

He felt the air leave his lungs when he spied the current time: 5:20.

Soshiro was desperately trying to do the math in his head to see if you were still at the station. The kaiju attack started 10 minutes ago, you've would've been here 5 minutes after that, but if they just began evacuations from the trains...

He hauled himself on top of the nearest building, desperately looking into the distance for an answer to quell his worries. There wasn't a train stopped in the middle of the tracks anywhere so that meant the train you were on made it to the station and was probably the one that people were currently pouring out of in a mad dash to escape from the monster headed their way. Soshiro cursed under his breath as he jumped back to the ground, now surrounded by his soldiers.

"Vice Captain! We figured out the kaiju seems to be attracted to huge groups of people, more so than usual! That's why it's going to the station!"

"Good work, Reno," replied Soshiro, his face hardening as he addressed everyone. "You guys heard him. We work together as a group, got it? Nobody goes off on their own. We have to get this thing interested in us instead of civilians."

The Third Division set off in a hurry, making their way toward the rampaging Kaiju.

Well, this was new.

As you heard the announcement about a kaiju barreling toward the train station you'd just arrived to, you thought about how you'd somehow managed to never see one up close-- until today, most likely. The screams of the passengers around you got louder as you all heard the kaiju's steps hit the ground in a frenzied state, emboldened by the prospect of a large meal, and you found yourself getting jostled in a sea of bodies as people desperately tried to escape the train and underground station. You decided to hang back for a moment, not wanting to risk getting trampled. You looked out the train window, trying to stay calm.

"Kaiju ahead! Prepare to engage!"

Soshiro, for once in his life, was nervous to fight a kaiju. When he found you, he'd have to scold you for making him worry like this.

Yes, that was a when, not an if. He will be finding you, alive. He couldn't lose you. Not today, not ever.

"Vice Captain! Yoju are headed this way!"

Soshiro followed where Kafka's finger was pointed. The little kaiju were running toward the Third Division while the honju was still dead set on terrorizing the train station.

At least some of them took the bait.

"You guys take care of the yoju. The honju is mine," snarled Soshiro, running as fast as he could.

When the train eventually cleared enough for you to make a run for it, your chance to escape the station was getting slimmer by the second. The honju's steps were making the ground shake and you could barely stay upright. You and a few other passengers were the only ones left below the surface and were now following the emergency signage, hoping the kaiju wasn't overhead. You were feeling better about the distance you had put between you and the kaiju when all of a sudden, the roof of the train station began to rumble. You knew immediately that it was about to collapse so you yelled out a warning and ran as fast as your legs could go, heading above ground. Sure enough, as soon as you got up the stairs, the pavement next to you caved in and left a huge gaping hole in the middle of the street. Along with the other passengers you made your escape with, you put your hands on your knees, panting and trying to catch your breath. You were lucky you didn't get caught up in wreckage because it was a certain death sentence, much like the kaiju licking its lips in front of you. You wanted to scream in frustration as you realized you had run right into the trap it set. Somehow the kaiju had known hordes of people would run from the station and right into the area it was using as a plate. You had to give this thing credit for its intelligence as you were at a loss of what to do next. Most of the people you had boarded the train with were dead, save for the lucky few who evacuated the station right away. You knew this because of the numerous bodies and bones strewn about around you. The only thing left of the people you ran up here with was their blood soaking the street as the kaiju dined on their corpses. You were resigned to the fact that you were about to die and you just hoped it was quick. In a blink of an eye, you were picked up in its claw, the smell of blood overtaking your senses and making you want to puke. The kaiju growled at you in a mocking manner as you were raised to its lips, its razor sharp teeth about to bite down on your head.

"No you don't, you greedy piece of shit."

Soshiro's voice rang out, echoing in the bloodied remains of the street. The kaiju roared, upset at the intrusion of his meal. The big beast threw you down in a tantrum, intending to end your life on the pavement, but a flash of purple and two seconds later, you found yourself safely on the ground with minimal injuries.

"Soshiro," you breathed out, "how did you..."

"I thought I told you," he stated firmly, but with his ever present boyish grin, "I always got you."

He then addressed the kaiju directly. "Looks like you had enough dinner, hmm?" He pulled out his swords, the light reflecting off the sharp edges as he made a glorious display of his specialty weapons. "What do you say to me giving everyone a show?"

Soshiro was in the air in an instant, engaging in the ferocious clash between beast and blade. You could only watch with awe as Soshiro's lithe movements easily evaded the clunky kaiju. At certain points, it almost seemed like he was toying with the large monster to prove the point that he was superior and you would've felt bad for the kaiju if you hadn't just watched it devour humans a few minutes ago. Soshiro then brought the battle to a close, laying the final blows, and the defeated kaiju fell to the ground.

"Are you alright?" he asked, giving you a once over as he extended a hand to help you up.

"I'm perfectly fine thanks to you. Seriously, Soshiro, you saved my life. I don't know how to thank you."

"Thank me? No need for that, it's my job to keep people safe." His voice dropped low, indicating he was about to tell you something serious. "But I knew I couldn't lose you. You mean much more to me than you could ever know. Y/n, I..." He didn't finish his sentence, afraid of telling you how he truly felt for you. It wasn't that he was afraid of rejection so much as he was afraid of the emotional vulnerability that came with telling someone you loved them. Thankfully for him, you understood perfectly what he was trying to get at.

"You always got me?" you suggested, wearing a cheeky smile.

"Yeah," he said, a mix of determination and pure love present in his features as he looked upon you. "I always got you."

[sinsirellaxx]

The anon who asked for the putting them in their place have amazing taste and your writing is so good too! ❤️ Please write a part 2 of the groveling part whenever you're free and have the inspiration! Of course, it's still up to you and if you're not feeling it, it's completely okay! 🎀

Also, remember to drink water and always stay hydrated! Your writing is amazing! <3

Slytherin Boys – You put them in your place and now they want you back

Warning: Toxic Boys alert!

A/N: Thank you so much, that is very sweet of you! Hope you're taking care of yourself as well! ❤️ Sorry this took me so long – life is a bit busy right now and sometimes my brain just isn't braining. 🙃

This is as much "groveling" I could do, because honestly – I don't see them toxic boys being truthful when apologizing for being too controlling or possessive. It is up to you: Would you forgive them?

Also: Not proofread!

Comments are greatly appreciated!

Mattheo …

… didn’t let you walk far. He willed the anger away as best as he could before rushing after you. He couldn’t believe it himself, but you had him wrapped around your finger and he hated it. But the thought of you leaving him and being with someone else seemed unbearable – it made him want to rip his hair out and scream until his lungs bled. Was he afraid you’d reject him after the attitude you just displayed? Yes! But if you did reject him, he'd just have to resort to more … drastic measures. He is a Riddle after all.

He quickly found you at the party and pulled you aside by your arm. You raised your eyebrows at him as you turned around, crossing your arms over your chest – the smirk from before long gone.

“Look. I’m sorry for telling you what to wear. You are right – it isn’t my place to do so.” Hell yeah it is. Mattheo thought, not liking the bitter aftertaste the words left in his mouth. They were all lies. But it was either that or probably losing you.

His eyes lit up when he noticed your shoulders relax – your arms uncrossing and now hanging by your sides.

“Please forgive me. You’re just absolutely gorgeous and I guess I suddenly felt so insecure – which is not like me.” Mattheo added, inwardly gagging at the nonsense and vulnerability he was displaying. But you didn’t need to know that.

Jackpot. He thought as he watched your face soften, a reassuring smile on your face as you told him that there was no reason for him to be insecure.

Theodore …

… sighed defeatedly as you immediately pushed his hands off your body. He was caught off guard when you suddenly pushed him back out and slammed the door into his face.

“What the – come one!” He groaned, the lust from before being replaced by frustration. He tried turning the doorknob, but you had apparently locked it. Theodore rolled his eyes – he could always use his wand to unlock it. Leaning his forehead against the wooden surface of your door he spoke loud enough for you to hear.

“Bella, please open the door. Aren’t you overreacting?”

He was met with silence.

“Come on, open up and let’s talk about it.” He sighed heavily as he pressed his hear against the door.

But he was met with silence again.

“I was just worried about you, love.” Theo spoke louder, his patience wearing thin as he knocked loudly on your door.  He heard rustling behind the door but instead of unlocking the door you turned on some music. Loud music.

“That’s it.” Theodore grumbled under his breath before taking a step back. However, instead of using his wand – like any other student would have done – he chose to kick down the door. After a few tries he managed to break the lock, kicking the door open and walking into your room. He could fix the door later.

You stared at him in disbelief, your eyes wandering from your ruined door to his stoic face. He was panting slightly – obviously out of breath from the force he had to put into kicking the door down.

“Will you listen to me now?” He asked with his brow raised.

You crossed your arms defensively in front of your chest while avoiding eye contact. You wouldn’t give up that easily. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Theodore moved closer to you, his hands ghosting over your hips before slowly pulling you closer to him.

“Look, I’m really sorry for suffocating you with my love,” He murmured softly, his voice laced with hidden sarcasm, “I’ll stop annoying you with all the questioning. But I want you to know, that I’m just worried.” Theodore finished, his grip on your hips slightly tightening when you finally look up at him.

“Even Hogwarts isn’t as safe anymore.” His voice broke slightly towards the end of his sentence, his eyes downcast as his shoulders sagged. He knew you’d fall for it. You could never resist him if he acted so vulnerable in front of you – you’d have to hug him. And just as expected you immediately flung your arms around him, pulling him down to hug him. Your face pressed into the crook of his neck as you breathed in his scent with one of your hands combing through his hair. Theodore smirked as he tightened his hold on you, listening to you apologize for being such a diva and promising him to always tell him about your whereabouts – because he was right. Hogwarts wasn’t as safe anymore. Your boyfriend knew best, and he definitely knew how to play you like an instrument.

Lorenzo …

… was seething in his room. His mind swirling with what-ifs as he thought about you and Potter. His jaw clenched, gritting his teeth as he thought of the male. He hated him so much.  He hated him even more because he dared to befriend you – the love of his life. His girlfriend. He scoffed as he thought about your words. Annoyed that he couldn’t control you – that he couldn’t convince you to quit talking to that damned boy. He wanted to pay you back for it, make you suffer just as he was now. He wanted to see you cry and beg for him to love you. Only you. But he knew that whatever he had in mind would just push you away and right into that stupid Potter’s arms. He’d go ballistic if that happened.

He'd have to apologize. No matter how much he didn’t want to – because there was no reason to apologize, he had done nothing wrong – he knew that was what you wanted.

Letting himself fall on his bed he closed his eyes. He’d handle it tomorrow – he had to calm down first.

The next day Enzo went to Hogsmeade to buy you roses and your favorite sweets before making his way back to school. He kept going over the apology-speech he had thought of before going to sleep – hoping he’d not mess it up.

When he’d finally find you somewhere in the hallways he’d grow tense: There was still the lingering fear of you rejecting his apology. However, as soon as your eyes connected his shoulders relaxed slightly – you were so beautiful. Clearing his throat, he stopped two feet away from you, gripping the flowers in his hands tightly as he took in your appearance. You looked sad.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday. That was not fair of me at all.” Lorenzo apologized; his voice soft as he frowned slightly.

“I’ve been thinking about it the whole night …” Oh he had – he’d been thinking about all the ways he could make the Potter disappear.

“I feel horrible for the things I’ve said.” No, he didn’t. He still strongly believes he’s right.

“I have no right to tell you what to do and who to befriend.” Unfortunately, not. But he’d try to change that.

“Will you please forgive me?”

Draco …

… felt pathetic as he stood before you. His head hung low and his arms uselessly hanging at his sides – just as useless as he felt in that moment. He felt your eyes burn into him as you took in his appearance – you must be shocked to see him this disheveled. This broken. Your eyes softened slightly, your hands itching to lift his head and embrace him. He looked like he had been through hell. When he heard your soft voice uttering his name he dared to look up, his eyes red from the nightmares that haunted him in the nights. You couldn’t help it – you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks, your thumbs drawing small circles on his cheeks. You were close to tears.

“I’m so sorry …” He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his eyes again. “I’m so ashamed for the things I’ve said …” His voice broke, his whole body shaking from the sob that forced its way through his lips. Your heart shattered into tiny pieces – your poor boyfriend. You suddenly felt stupid for being friends with Potter and the rest, knowing well that he suffered so much because of them. Shaking your head you pulled him into your arms, hugging him tightly as you patted his back reassuringly, telling him how sorry you were for being so inconsiderate. For putting them above him.

Draco returned the hug hesitantly, desperately clinging onto your sweater as he cried into your hair with a small smile on his lips. Everything was going according to plan.

Blaise …

… wasn’t so sure anymore. Three days had passed, and you had still not come to him – neither did you reply to any of his messages. With a heavy sigh he stood up from his bed: He’d have to make it up to you, there was no other way around it.

Finding you was rather easy – he had gone to your dorm-room first. Knocking on your door he waited for a few seconds before you opened it, clad in joggers and his hoodie. You immediately frowned when you saw him, pushing the door close. Blaise reacted quickly and put his foot between the door and the doorframe.

“I want to apologize.” He rushed out, pulling his foot back when you opened the door again.

“I’m really sorry for what I did. I know you hate it when I get violent and I’m sorry I acted that way. Really – please, I’ll change.” He whispered brokenly as he stared deep into your eyes.

Tom …

… Riddle didn’t beg or ask for forgiveness. Never. But after a whole week of you ignoring him, he has had enough. He apparently needed you more than he let on – and more then you needed him, which bothered him tremendously.  He had tried everything: Read your mind, manipulate your thoughts – he even made Snape partner up with you for a project. But nothing seemed to work. He couldn’t see into your mind, and you skipped potions to avoid him as well. He had to talk to you. With clenched fists and a tight jaw, he approached you after dinner when you were alone.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” He questioned. His voice causing you to flinch and spin around to face him. You looked slightly nervous when you noticed him. Good. Tom thought. You didn’t answer him right away, which further added to his frustration. He wasn’t known to be a patient man. “Do you think you can survive without me?” He asked cockily, with his hand in his pockets – his fingers playing with his wand. Just in case.

You scoffed at his attitude. Even now, when he should be apologizing, he was nothing but arrogant. Rolling your eyes at him you told him to leave you alone – telling him it was over before taking a few steps back. You were afraid to turn your back towards him. And right you were – but you underestimated him. For he didn’t need you to turn his back towards him to take action. He whipped out his wand and grit out the imperio spell with a small flick of his wrist. You never stood a chance. Your eyes turned a misty color as they watched the tall male step closer to you. His free hand shooting out to softly caress your cheek before gripping your chin tightly.

“Foolish little girl. There is no escape. You will stay with me and obey me … no matter what.”