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ashprince-of-bel-air · 2 months ago

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Little Dove: Part 6

It's longer than the others, 2.2k words. Blame the Works Xmas party for this also the smut I promised.

Part Five

Taglist: @cherryheairt

Life in the palace over the last few days had been an adjustment for you. Not having to dress yourself was a big change, you had maids to help you every day, this was something that you would have to get used to now that you lived here. Asking for anything, even absentmindedly was strange, an offhand comment about wanting something turned into a full job, servants bringing whatever you dared to wish for within the hour. This life was unreal to you, it made you make a mental note of thanking Emperor Caracalla for this treatment, it was not necessary, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

Caracalla had not visited you since the night you were brought here, his duties having kept him busy, especially with new Gladiator Games coming up, they needed to be properly organised, a spectacle to honor the Gods for their blessings upon Rome. A few times you felt that he had possibly forgotten about you, that once he had his little dove caged away he would be happy, knowing that you were his little pet that no others could touch. You tried to not let it upset you, you were now living in luxury, a life that you had never dared to dream of, surely that would be good enough for you.

It had become easy to adapt into a new routine here, no overbareing father to punish or admonish you for wanting read and craft, such interests were unbecoming of a young woman in his mind. Walking the castle grounds in the morning was a new delight for you, admiring the flowers around the large pool. Though you spent large amounts of time in the gardens of your fathers palace, it was incomparable to the grandiose of the royal gardens. The rest of the day was your own, yours to do with as you please, no itinerary or chores to complete. Most days now were spent with you in the royal library, free to read in silence. One thing that nobody could deny was that you were blessed by the Goddess Minerva, a thirst for knowledge and a love for the arts had been bestowed upon you from an early age. The library was like paradise to you, books upon books about history, art and philosophy, you had never felt more at home than within these walls.

Clothes were a bountiful gift upon your arrival, piles of rich silken dresses now sat in your wardrobe, it was hard to imagine when you would have time to wear the ever mounting pile of gowns. You were unsure of who was sending you these garments, assuming that it was from senators wanting to gain favour with you and the emperor, now that he had so publicly chosen you. In reality they were from Caracalla, having felt bad for not being able to see you he instructed his servants to send you lavish gifts, to adorn you with the of what Rome had to offer. Caracalla had never so openly pursued anyone before, he was unsure how to apologise for his absence and so did the only thing he knew to do and buy your love.

Caracalla felt awful that he had not visited you, partly because you had been uprooted and placed here in the palace on his whim, yet also because he was desperate to see you, craving the feeling of your skin and the dream of your lips upon his again. Most of the blame was placed on his brother Geta, knowing that he was keeping him busy so that he could not see you. Geta never desired for a wife yet he now found himself jealous of Caracalla, a deep yearning to be loved was in both of them and now his brother had found someone to give that to him. Geta’s stalling had gone on for long enough, no longer could he use the excuse of the Games to keep his brother away. Today Caracalla promised himself that he would see you, he wanted to see you desperately. Ever since he saw you so enraptured with your room he wanted you. It made him feel loved, to feel appreciated as he watched your eyes full of wonder, stirring a warm feeling inside of him that he had not felt in years, he yearned for it, like an addict wanting more.

The Gladiator Games were set to begin at sunrise, an event you were expected to attend with Caracalla now that he had claimed you. The thought of attending with him in the royal box again made your heart flutter, this would be the first time you had seen him since the night he welcomed you to the palace. A memory you delighted in most nights, remembering the feeling of his lips upon your neck and the tender kiss you shared, the memory often made you blush. Though you were excited you also had an overwhelming feel of anxiety, you needed to look the part of an Emperor’s consort, yet you were scared you would embarrass him. You had been raised in a higher society than most, though there were certain intricacies and hidden rules that the ruling class had that you did not know, you wanted to impress the emperor, to feel worthy of the station that he had now granted you.

Caracalla could think of naught but you most days that he was planning the games with his brother, the way you laughed and blushed made him hard. In council meetings it was almost impossible for him to not rub himself through the cotton of his robes, desperately seeking relief as he thought of you, a beautiful image amongst the boring politics. He would roll his eyes as his brother spoke, bored and more than desperate for you now. It killed him to be away from you now that you were living in the palace near him, he wanted to sneak away and join you in privacy, to revere you as the goddess that you were to him, to worship you on his knees as you deserved, the only woman who could bring an Emperor to their knees.

Whenever Caracalla tried to approach your room he was diverted by some other issue that could not be ignored, he told himself that if it happened again tonight he would personally behead the man who stopped him, nothing would keep him from devouring you tonight, he was almost feral at the thought of you now.

Silken dresses were thrown all over the floor as you ransacked your wardrobe, the maids had offered to help you find a suitable dress, yet your pride won over, your new freedom and desire to choose the correct outfit yourself was stronger than the need for help. Dress upon dress was examined and thrown to the floor in disappointment, each one not meeting your imaginary standards for an Emperor’s consort.

Emperor Caracalla entered your room silently, having finally made his way uninterrupted to your room, his prior warning to the servants to not disturb him had been very well understood. He pushed the heavy door open as quietly as he could, wanting to surprise you and see what you did in your own time, to gain more of an idea of who you were. Instead of a simple visage of you reading or painting he was met with a wild version of you, your hair was untamed and you looked manic as you examined and threw garments to one side in frustration. The sight of you so unbridled made Caracalla smile wickedly, he already knew that you were not one to conform fully to normal rules, but to see you so unhinged excited him even more so.

Caracalla approached you slowly and silently, the wide smirk ever present on his face. “My love, why do you abuse those beautiful dresses so.” You turned to face him, startled that he was seeing you in such a state, wild and surrounded by crumpled fabrics. No words fell from your mouth as you looked at him, you tried to speak but was very quickly interrupted by his lips upon your own, giving a deep throaty sigh as you finally felt him once again. Caracalla held no regard for the dresses as he made his way to kiss you, he stood upon them knowing that he could order more in an instant if he needed, his only goal was to have you in his arms and kiss you, hearing your moan as he kissed you set him alight, he needed you now and an Emperor takes what he wants.

The kiss was brief but passionate, as soon as the Emperor heard your moans you were lifted up. Caracalla had grabbed your thighs and lifted you, walking you to the bed nearby and dropping you roughly upon the mattress. The dishevelled look of you before him drove him wild, your hair was wild and your dress was now barely covering your thighs, it was sinful how you looked before him, the epitome of seduction was laid before him, and he would not resist. It was not long before you felt his hands upon your thighs, the cold hard metal of the rings making you shiver slightly before him, praying his hands would ride up further and address the heat now burning at your core.

It felt like heaven to feel Carcalla’s lips upon your neck once again, this time though it was more desperate, like he was hungry to feel you, nipping at your skin and trying to leave his marks upon you, to claim you as his. “My Emperor” a soft giggle escaped you as you felt his teeth upon you. “You can’t mark me like this, the games are tomorrow” Your tone of voice was a tease, you did want him to mark you and leave love bites all over your body, yet you had to appear publicly in the morning. You felt the reverberation of a strained groan against you neck as he bit you once more, Caracalla knew you were right and he hated that he couldn’t devour you properly.

You felt Carcalla rest his head in the crook of your neck and moan, his hands now stroking over your body hungrily, taking in everything that he could. The kisses began quickly, from you neck to your collarbone, working his way down your body, ripping the nightdress from you as he kissed his way to your core, he wanted to kiss every inch of your body and a nightdress would not stop him. Once he reached your core he was gentle, kissing your wet folds and embracing in the fact that he made your body react this way. You felt the soft grip of his heavily ringed hands on your thighs, and it made you sigh, a sigh that made Caracalla dip his tongue between your folds, his tongue now painting masterpieces upon you, eliciting noises from you that you never knew you could make.

Caracalla drank you in as much as he could before kissing his way back up your body, each kiss was full of desire and desperation, he had wanted to devour and consume you as soon as you were brought to the palace. His teeth upon your neck made you moan again, you felt his hands upon your hips now, holding you in place so he could position himself before you. You felt a weeping tip against you, stretching you for the first time, begging for entrance. “I’ll be as gentle as I can my little dove.” Caracalla whispered in your ear as you felt him press inside of you. You had never known a man before, this was an intimate moment for you and the emperor of Rome was being gentle with you, you felt in this moment how much he desired and cared for you.

Your walls stretched around Carcalla’s thick length; it was painful initially but then you felt how good he was inside you. His hand upon your clit, thumbing it to bring you pleasure as he thrust gently into you. Where he would normally ruin virgins he wanted to savour you, you were his and he wanted to feel your pleasure, a pleasure that only he could give you. The heat began to rise inside of you, pooling in your stomach and desperate for relief, your moans were now music to Carcalla’s ears, spurring on each thrust inside of you, desperate to bring you to climax as much as he wanted his own.

Finally, you felt your first climax, it was a wave of white-hot pleasure over your body. Caracalla kissed your neck as you came, his own climax was not long after your intense one, your throbbing walls made it had for him to hold back, spilling his seed into you almost immediately after. Carcalla buried his face in your neck, panting as he flopped his body onto your own after his climax. Your sweaty bodies were stuck together as you both panted, out of breath from the intense session. “I will make you my Emperess I swear” Caracalla’s voice was ragged as he spoke, interrupted by his kisses on your neck. Though you didn’t fully believe him, you laid there embracing the fantasy of being his emperess.

#emperor caracalla fic #gladiator caracalla #emperor caracalla x reader #caracalla x reader #emperor caracalla

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zelcii · 3 months ago

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do u right for luke castellan? if u do can u write some fluff for himmm? thank u, love ur writing

why | luke castellan

“if you want to stay as the counsellor of your cabin, you’re going to have to work harder,” mr. d said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“i’m sorry,” you deadpanned, frustration creeping into your voice. “what?”

chiron rolled his eyes at dionysus. “it’s nothing personal,” he replied dismissively. “we appreciate your efforts—”

“we just know that you can do better,” mr. d interrupted.

luke stood just outside the door, waiting for you, when he overheard the conversation. he didn’t think much of it, except for how wrong both chiron and mr. d were.

what surprised him the most was the meek, tired “yes, sir,” that slipped from your lips on the other side of the door.

as your boyfriend, luke has had the opportunity to watch you up close as you hustle through camp, over-organising activities, making sure every camper is accounted for. you’re always on the move, practically running the place, and sometimes he wonders if you ever take a minute to breathe. your dedication is impressive, no doubt, but it hurts him to see you wear yourself down with every unnecessary list, every forced smile you give chiron, and each desperate attempt to hold everything together on your own.

today is no different, of course. the kids are out exploring, their laughter echoing in the distance, while you sit at one of the empty tables with a can of soda, sluggishly jotting down yet another mundane task for the afternoon.

“hey, camper,” you say, barely looking up from your notebook as you take a sip of your strawberry soda.

“come,” he says, but it’s not really a question.

“what?” you glance up, surprise flickering in your eyes as he gently places a hand on your arm, urging you to stand.

“you heard me.” with one hand, he closes your notebook and tucks it under his arm, then grabs your can of soda and takes a sip.

“but—the kids?” you protest, frowning.

“eh. they won’t miss you.” he flashes you a grin, and with a stifled chuckle escaping you, the two of you make your way over to the empty dock, settling down with your legs dangling over the edge.

“how are you?” luke questions, you watch the way his slim waist slumps as he stretched his hands out behind him. “and i mean really.”

“good. haven’t gotten the chance to talk to you in a while though,” you smile, watching your reflection in the water beneath you.

“why?” the boy asked. you paused. there was a look in your eye as you went over your answer, a look that luke would never forget. you never thought of why exactly you’ve been busy all summer. probably because the answer seemed obvious to you.

“i’m working, luke?” you say, though you sound unsure. “why do you ask?”

the wood is warm beneath you as you stare out into the lake. you could see a group of campers staggered around the edges of the lake, a few taking a moment to dip into the coolness of the water. luke was leaned back on his hands, a lazy smile on his face as he watches the way your lips curl up at the sight of your kids.

“mr. d wasn’t the best this morning during senior council��” luke started, carefully watching the way your face twisted for your reaction. “i don’t know, i guess i get surprised when you let things like that slide.”

“what’s this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you turn to look at him. he looks almost unreal in the warm light of the setting sun, the golden rays casting a soft glow on the side of his face, making his eyes seem to shine just for you. he was a demigod for sure.

“an intervention,” he jokes, a hint of mischief in his tone.

you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss how the sunlight catches in your hair, turning it a soft gold. it’s a moment, a second of reluctance that tells him to think twice before he continues this conversation with you.

“look,” he says, his tone shifting slightly. he sat up straighter, his eyes never leaving yours, “i’ve noticed you’ve been working your ass off lately; more than most of us. so why’d you just take that shit from mr. d?”

for a minute, all you could do was stare at him, and all he could do was stare at you. he took note of how the meat on your bones seemed to lessen over the course of the summer, how your tired eyes sunk into your rosy cheeks, and how your lips glossed over with the same lip gloss you had since the sixth grade.

“i know… what it sounds like—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“do you even like being a counsellor?”

“of course, i do,” you say with no hesitation, your eyes hardening as you sounded slightly offended.

his expression softens, concern flickering across his face. “look, baby, i know it’s none of my business how you choose to waste your time, but you barely even sleep anymore.”

you take so much shit from chiron and mr. d and you never even once go against their orders, we haven’t had time alone since before summer, and you give so much of your time to people who don’t deserve it… i know that nobody asked you this before,”

“but do you ever wonder why?”

the question hangs between you, and for a moment, you’re silent, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. you look down at your hands, playing with the edges of your shorts. “why what?” you knew ‘why what.’

“why are you like this?” he prompts, holding eye contact.

“because…” you sigh, searching for the right words. “i don’t know… but chiron—”

“forget chiron,” he replies softly as he takes your hand in his. “you’re his best counsellor. he was probably just messing with you, sweetheart.”

you meet his gaze, and for the first time, you realise how much weight you’ve been holding. you sigh, looking at him; his eyes never leave yours.

“maybe you’re right,” you say slowly.

“of course, i’m right,” he scoffs, a smirk creeping onto his face, but the warmth in his eyes makes you want to kiss the smug look right off of it.

“big talk for a hermes, castellan,” you challenge, leaning in closer with a playful grin.

luke smirks, quick to respond. “that’s not the only big thing, baby.”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound ringing out like music in the morning air. it’s the hardest you’ve laughed since before summer camp, and in that moment, you realised just how much you’ve missed this.

#luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #x reader #percy series #pjo #percy jackson #fluff #fanfic #annabeth chase #dominic fike #spotify #charlie bushnell #pjo series #netflix

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muffinsin · 3 months ago

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Omg hii I love your re8 stories especially about the DIMITRESCU’S DAUGHTERS flies. Can I request one where a the reader actually like swats or crushes their flies bc they didn’t know it was actually apart of them.

Hi, hon! :) I’m happy to hear you like my works😊🙇‍♀️ Haha, absolutely! :) imma try a new type of post very similar to the meme reaction one, this time mixing HCs with emoji reactions. Just trying things out, lemme know what y’all think🙌

Let’s get into it :)!

Masterlists

Bela

😳🤕😓

Bela works, as usual, her body tense, her shoulders and hands aching, yet she sits comfortably at least, her eyes closed trailing over the pages before her

You sit next to her, assigned the task of organising the little cabinet next to her office desk

While it sounds rather simple, you know better

You know the task is one not given to anyone, that she trusts you with this

That she trusts you understand her enough to organize it properly, to not only see and understand the way she likes it organised, but to follow this scheme, too

Summarized; she trusts you

She likes you, more so than the other staff members

She finds, you’re hard working and finish all the tasks she gives you just the way she expects it

You never fail her

As such, you enjoy a certain amount of kindness from her, a privilege at the castle

You’re given immunity, up to a certain point of course

And you find; you like her too

You like joining her as she works, like to remind her to eat and drink occasionally

All in all, working for Bela is incredible, you feel

You’re honored you’re given this job, this opportunity, despite being rather new at the castle

And that, precisely that, is how you could get into this specific situation today

You’re organizing the desk once again as she works, studying the papers, wholly concentrated

You think she almost looks cute like that, her nose scrunched up a tiny bit whenever she concentrates, her eyebrows drawn together a little

You move quietly, slowly, as to not bring her out of this state

Not that you think much could, anyway

Aside from, you think, the fly you spot suddenly moving at her desk

You frown in confusion…you have seen suspiciously many flies at the castle. You wonder whether it’s got a pest problem

Well, you think, at least you will solve this pest problem for her

Too wrapped up in her work, Bela doesn’t even notice you move, nor does she think much of the fly she allows to idly swarm about

You move closer, slowly, then suddenly strike

“Ah-aouw!”, she shrieks suddenly, straightening up and tensing up immediately

You move to her quickly, yet can’t find any injuries on her

“Did you-?”, she asks, looking at the dead insect on top of her table

She’s at a loss for words, stuck like a deer staring into the headlights, unsure what to do now

Normally, any who kills a fly of theirs, intentionally especially, would find themselves punished

But…she likes you. Maybe she can let it slip

“Do you want me to remove it, Lady Bela?”, you worry

She blinks at you, wordlessly

Do you…think she’s scared of a fly?

When nothing followers her shocked silence, you move the fly away, yet just when you’re about to throw it into the pin, she jumps up again, stopping you

“No!”

“Don’t”, she adds, a little softer. Is that a blush on her cheeks? You don’t think you’ve ever seen her blush

Almost shy, as though scared it will freak you out, she explains

“It’s, a part of me”, she explains, somewhat awkward. Something unusual from the eldest sister, no doubt

At first, you don’t understand

Then, it dawns on you

She cocks her head to the side adorably as you gasp, holding the little insect gently in your palm as you attempt to bring it back alive with gently pushes of your finger

She winces as you squish it further, but notes your good intentions

Just as she’s about to sit back down, your naive question has her go back into a shocked silence

“Would you mind if I kept it?”

Cassandra

😨🥴😳

Being her assistant in the cellars, your role is very…unique

Only a handful of people ever worked at her side like this

Even more of these proved to be inadequate

Not you, though

You’ve been working with her for a few months now, staying by her side, loyal as she expects you to be

You work hard, too

You always bring her what she needs, hold what and who she needs you to hold, learn more each day to assist her even better

She, of course, sees this

Sees how hard you work, how eager you are to please her, how loyal you are to her and only her

The prisoners scream, beg, cry, try to bribe you

Never do you give in

You’re hers like that, utterly loyal to you

She trusts you, because of that

And you trust her in return

She never lashes out at you, doesn’t hurt you

Despite working at the infamous Dimitrescu basement, you’re never at risk of staying there

And not only that

She even shields you from her sisters

Daniela is not to flirt with you, not to try and seduce her lest Cassandra drags her away by the hood of her dress

Bela, while she rarely pays you any mind, speaks plain with you, the usual condescending tone she uses when talking to most humans lacking as it comes to you

Despite all this, there is a crucial information you have not yet picked up

That being the castle inhabitant’s biology

Despite being with Cassandra nearly all day, every day, you haven’t yet picked up that the many flies in the basement simply belong to her

Are a part of her

You never really paid much mind to them, assuming flies just come with the many rotting bodies down in the cellars

And really?

They never quite bothered you, either

Until today, that is

Cassandra’s back is turned to you- another large show of trust, as you know- as she works on scrubbing some dried blood off her sickle

While appreciating the look, certainly, she swears it feels wrong when she swings it

You don’t question her, instead simply note down today’s findings and tasks completed already

Then, you see a fly, constantly swarming around you, to your shoulders and ears, your chest and arms, hands and the paper you’re trying to write on

It seems bold, somewhat

You groan a little in annoyance at the constant buzzing near your ear

Then, when you lift the notebook and the little fly lands right below it, you see your opportunity to strike and end the annoying buzzing at last

Only when you bring the thing down, you hear a loud gasp coming from Cassandra, her body flinching

Almost, you think she’s cut herself on her sickle, yet when you pick the nearly squished fly up, she’s suddenly shivering

“What did you do?!”, she asks, her words loud, yet little fury behind them

Normally, she would have your head, ideally turn it into some cute cup for her to drink out of

Alas…she likes you

And each time you accidentally squish the small insect between your fingers, shivers run up her spine

“What do you mean, my Lady?”, you ask, genuinely confused. You didn’t even think she noticed the fly

But, when you experimentally squeeze it again, you notice the shivers and how her body trembles a little

Is that a blush on her cheeks? You’ve never, in all your time with her, seen even a hint of a blush on the woman’s cheeks

Cassandra uncharacteristically backs up when you approach, gasping in surprise when she, unsurprisingly, bumps right back into the table she rested her sickle on just moments prior

As you stand directly in front of her, you feel the weak insect struggle between your fingers and gently part them to release the fly

Fascinated, you watch as it seems to return to Cassandra, melting perfectly into her waist

Is this why she’s so responsive?

You can’t help but giggle, and immediately her sickle is pressed against your neck

Alas, months of working with her and even playful teasing between the two of you have you taught that you aren’t in danger

Boldly, you lean forward, smiling at your newfound knowledge

“I didn’t know you had such a sensitive waist, my lady”

Daniela

😢😪🤕

Daniela and you are incredibly close, this much is obvious to just about everyone residing in the castle

Already when you first came to this place, Daniela’s golden eyes set on you

Curious. Eager. Hungry. Dangerous

You were the first to see the loneliness in them

And you indulged her

You took a gamble and decided to treat and talk to her like one would to an actual being, a friend even, rather than just a supervisor, a superior

You know, of course, she is your superior, her mother having employed you

But, it worked, and Daniela was over the moons to finally get to talk to someone who did not try to keep conversations as short as possible to get away again

Nowadays, Daniela spends every day with you, her loneliness having been turned to clinginess instead

When you work, she likes to visit you, swarming around and giggling as she tells you jokes she’s picked up around the castle

You don’t mind at all

You find, you work better in her company

Her many stories- and often, complaints about her older sisters- allow you to concentrate, and have you giggle sometimes, even

What so many in the castle simply don’t understand, is that Daniela is fun to be around

Manic at times, yes, dangerous even. Clingy, obsessed

Lonely, happy, eager, cute, intelligent, funny, understanding

She cares for you

And you care for her

Often, your relationship to her is interpreted differently by the many other staff members

Especially when they see Daniela curled up on your lap late at night, finding she sleeps so much better with you there, rather than alone in her empty, dark room

You don’t mind the company in the slightest, so long as it’s her

You think, you have Daniela pretty figured out

You know when to approach her and when to keep your distance, when she’s feeling more feral or manic and you should stay away, when she needs you and your comfort, when she feels playful, when she’s dead serious

You know her relationship to her sisters and mother, a bond stronger than any you have ever seen or heard of before

You know of her carelessness as it comes to the staff members

You know she loves the warmth of the fire and blankets and your lap

You know she hates it when you accidentally leave a window open for some fresh air when the temperatures are somewhat lower than usual

What you don’t know, not yet, is that the many flies you often see buzzing around you belong to her

Today, you’re going to find out

You’re curled up in her bed with her, comfortable on the soft mattress- softer than any provided to the staff, of course

Having read to her for about an hour now, you realize Daniela is nearly about to fall asleep

The hand having traced your arm is slowly stopping, instead laying limply against you

Her breath is even, her eyes struggling to stay open

In your short time with Daniela you’ve learned, the woman loves to sleep

She likes taking little naps throughout the day, giggling when she wakes again with the energy to hunt or taunt her sisters and prisoners

You don’t want to disturb her, keep reading gently in hopes it will lull her to sleep

And you’re sure it will, is, when you suddenly spot the one fly that keeps buzzing around her

Moving to her waist, it almost looks like it disappears before you see it again near her head

She whines a little, and you can only assume it’s because of the fly

Hoping to help her out, you decide to dispose of the small insect

While normally not minding flies, you start to feel irritated at this one

Daniela feels perfectly comfortable, happy to doze off on top of your lap

Then, something that almost sounds like a slap

And a sting

“Ow!”, she whines, sitting up immediately

She eyes the dead fly in your palm, and you only now realize that the few rumors you heard about her being made of flies were true

You only ever thought they were insults, not a single speck of truth on them!

Now, Daniela’s bottom lip is wobbling as she looks at you, her eyes big and wet

Immediately, you do what she obviously expects and pull her fully into your lap to hug her to you

With her head at your shoulder, you still feel her smile even as you can’t see it, but don’t comment on it

You know, Daniela tends to like being a little dramatic to get what she wants

A little drama bug, you suppose

You feel her smile as you rub her back and hold her, trying hard not to giggle at the fake, big crocodile tears against your shoulder

You’ll admit, the fly-woman is good at this

With a playful smile on your lips you hold her, squeeze her, even kiss the top of your head as you apologise

She only smiles against you again, yet again feeling ready to doze off

You can’t help but giggle when she does

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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earthtooz · 2 years ago

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x : APOLOGY ACCEPTED :*+ﾟ

in which: isagi doesn't like it when you give him the silent treatment.

warnings: 1.9k wc, gn!reader, fluff with a little angst, ooc!isagi (i tried), mentions of manhandling, sleepy isagi, mentions to arguments. food.

a/n: I FEEL ILL REREADING THIS why is this so bad hELP. for being the main character, it's hard asf to get good manga panels of isagi lol. anyways. enjoy this shit piece xx i can't believe this is my first isagi fic and i did him so wrong, i'm so sorry cri

“y/n?” echoes a voice from down the hallway, one laced with grogginess and fatigue, paired with the gentle padding of footsteps trudging their way to where you resided in the living room. in your periphery, isagi rounds the corner shirtless and messy bedhair, and not sparing him a glance proved itself a challenge.

usually, you would’ve sprung up from your seat and greeted him good morning, but the soreness of your throat is a harsh reminder of the argument you had last night, and thinking too hard about it would press into the bruises of your ego, resurfacing awkward and sour feelings. yet, you still had to fight to contain the butterflies in your stomach upon seeing him and it becomes harder to fight when you realise that the first thing isagi did since waking up was find you, not even brushing his teeth or putting on a shirt.

as adorable as he was, you don’t know what to say to him, unsure of where you stood since you both just went to bed last night, the problem never resolving itself.

isagi’s face however, upon seeing you, lit up with a smile as bright as a thousand suns and endearing enough to crumble your resolve but you persevere with your tough facade. the true stake to the heart is the way his face drops when noticing your reluctance to acknowledge him.

"y/n?" he asks again as greeting, waddling over to stand before you. you still don't look up at him from your phone. "why are you awake so early?"

silence.

"y/n?" prods the soccer star who now seats himself beside you, hand shaking yours a little in hopes of getting your attention. "you're mad at me, aren't you?"

you don’t know how to respond, remaining silent despite the countless words brewing in your mind that were unable to spill over to form a sentence. should you be nice? mean? petty? you could never have the heart to do the latter two, but-

"-i'm sorry," he mutters, placing his chin on your shoulder so he could give you his best puppy-dog eyes. you don’t react, no matter how hard you had to fight to not look at him because you knew that if you did, you’d crumble right into his arms.

you miss the way his frown deepens with every shake of your shoulder that you ignore.

“you know i don’t like it when people ignore me.”

despite your cold shoulder, he still lingers around you, just now fast asleep after prying a spot on your lap for his head to fit, disturbing your peace with his hesitant invasion. naturally, you run your hands through his raven hair, lounging in the morning sun with your phone in one hand and your soccer sensation of a boyfriend in your lap.

eventually, the tranquillity is ruined alongside the urge to use the bathroom, but the difficult part of said task however, was getting isagi off your lap which turned out to be a carefully organised operation. gently lifting his head, you manage to shuffle away before laying him back down. somehow you manage to keep him from rousing, leaving you to tiptoe away without making much noise.

you went as far as you could because when you opened the bathroom door againÇ, isagi was lingering outside, slumber still evident in his face as he blinks sleepily at you. so much for leaving without waking him.

“oh. hi,” he greets, voice still ridden with sleep. he rubs his eye innocently, streaks of his nap engrained on his skin.

he grumbles a sleepy murmur of your name as you slip away around him, giving isagi the chance to latch on to your waist. this wasn’t the silent treatment you were imagining, but you have half a mind and even less of a desire to shrug your boyfriend off, no matter how difficult your predicament is.

“i need to brush my teeth,” the athlete mutters, dragging you into the bathroom with him. “we can do skincare together.”

you don’t have it in you to tell isagi that you’ve already done your morning routine so you settle for doing it a second time. not like it’ll hurt anyone, especially not your skin.

wordlessly, you do your morning routine alongside him and it’s oddly peaceful without the usual talking and music in the background. you get more of a chance to admire isagi and his boyish features, shyly looking away from his gaze every time his eyes meet yours in the bathroom mirror. after putting away all the products, you don’t move very far before the dark-haired latches himself to you again.

he remains like that even as you continue with chores and tasks you assigned yourself, deciding that there’s no place he’d rather be than half-asleep behind you whilst you sort through laundry, organise your drawers, and fix organise the kitchen cabinets. he’s gracious enough to help a little, holding spices and cans here and there.

if you tried to shake him off, isagi would grumble and come right back, never straying too far away for too long.

his insistence to stay like this was endearing, but very irritating, especially it was hindering your productive. however, your will to scold him for it is at an all-time low so you’ll have to continue living with another being wrapped around you until isagi gives up or you tell him off.

you didn’t have to wait long for the latter. after you were done with organising- or rather when isagi was fed up of standing, he drags you right back to your shared bedroom, silently arranging the two of you on your shared bed with his strength, moving you into a comfortable position under the duvet.

“please stop,” you demand quietly as if you were silent enough, you wouldn’t technically break the silent treatment.

he immediately perks up at the sound of your voice and his name on your lips, a wide smile breaking out on his face. “babe!” isagi flops on you, the ‘oof’ that escapes you not going unnoticed, “you talked.”

“isagi, please give me some space.”

the smile on the soccer player’s face completely melts away and he furrows his eyebrows, causing guilt to strike you in the heart as he reluctantly moves away from you. the use of his last name in comparison to his usual, affectionate-filled nicknames didn’t soften the blow directed at him either.

“is this because of last night?” he asks, resting his chin on your sternum. “i’m sorry about everything that i said.”

“isagi,” he stops rambling. “please, i just need some space right now.”

“okay, i’m sorry. i’ll go now.”

he shuffles out from under the covers rather quickly, picking up a shirt from his closet before walking out with it half-on. you call out his name only to hear the front door slam close and you wince slightly at the sound, guilt weighing heavily on your heart.

when you said you needed space you didn’t mean for isagi to leave the apartment completely.

if you had set your boundaries clearer this morning maybe you could have avoided this scenario. now isagi’s out of the house and you don’t know where he’s even going or when he’s returning and the thought is enough to scare you, riddling you with enough anxiety for your heart to sink to your feet. it’s getting hard to breathe too and your mind is racing with countless thoughts that all pile on top of each other.

texting isagi was a flunk too, he left his phone at home and only took his wallet.

what did you do? what time would he be back?

could he have gone to bachira’s? nagi’s? without his phone though? isagi wouldn’t usually go very far without a device at the very least. maybe he’s just out for a walk to clear his mind. yeah, that sounds right, isagi loves walks after all so who knows when he’ll be back. speaking of walking, you might benefit from one right now too-

“-i’m home!” a voice shouts out, breaking you out of your funk like hammer shattering a glass.

practically running out of the bedroom, you disregard the shards of hurt, running over them to see isagi staring at you with wide eyes. he holds a bakery bag and a bouquet of flowers- your favourites, in one hand and the apartment keys in the other.

“oh, y/n, are you okay?” he asks fondly, setting the bag down on the kitchen counter before wandering over to you. without thinking, you reel him in to a hug when he’s close enough, half jumping onto him as the soccer player catches you effortlessly, surprised by your sudden show of affection. “i thought you were mad at me?”

“you scared me, you doofus,” you say into his shoulder with a watery laugh, relief flooding your body like no other at the feeling of his warmth against yours again. “don’t just leave like that ever again.”

“i’m sorry! i wanted to say sorry because of how big of a dick i was to you last night and this morning.”

“you left so abruptly! i thought i angered you even more or something,” you laugh, all watery and emotional.

isagi snakes a hand up to your face, cradling it. “that wasn’t my intention, i didn’t mean to scare you.”

“apology accepted and i’m sorry too. i was mean to you last night as well and i should have communicated properly with you this morning. wasn’t fair on my end.”

“apology accepted,” he says with a charmingly boyish grin. you have an urge to kiss it off. “i love you.”

“you make it so hard to stay mad at you. i love you too,” you mutter before isagi’s pressing his lips to yours, pouring all his love for you to breathe in, filling you with reassurance. you smile against him, unable to contain it, which then causes him to mimic you, and the kiss breaks away because the two of you are laughing too much.

isagi will be the death of you.

your eyes glance behind him and the striker follows your line of sight. “i got your favourite cake too by the way, last one the bakery had. guess i’m one lucky guy, huh?”

“the stars aligned perfectly just for you.”

“i agree,” mutters isagi before leaning in to leave a kiss on your forehead.

“should we have some cake now?” you question, loosening your arms around him to back away and faltering when he doesn’t let you. his grip around your waist is tight and unforgiving as mischief shines in the dark-haired’s eyes.

then, he pulls you right back, peppering your face in endless kisses whilst you giggle in response to each one. the more he plants the more you want to pull away out of reflex but his hold forbid for you to travel too far, leaving you vulnerable to all of his advances.

“i love you,” he repeats with each press against your skin.

“yoichi, stop!” you giggle. the sound is a remedy to his pain.

“can’t stop, i have a whole day of affection to make up for.”

you shove his shoulder teasingly, “later.”

“later. i’ll never make you mad again, i swear. that was the worst day of my life. next time you do this, i’d rather you end me.”

#isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi fluff #isagi yoichi fluff #isagi blue lock #blue lock fluff #isagi x gn!reader #isagi yoichi x gn!reader #yoichi isagi x reader

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acotarxreader · 6 months ago

Text

Storybook

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: Azriel's insecurities of not being good enough for the glowing Dawn emissary that had enveloped his world can't be silenced and erupt at Cassian's birthday party. But can he find his way again into the storybook life he believes you deserve?

Warnings: Angst, silly Azriel, fluff, typos

A/N; A cute lil fic while I mull over the end of Mirror for the thousandth time! Let me know what you guys think! Requests Open!

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Azriel traced small circles along the base of your spine as you huddled close to his side, the buttery sheets of the gigantic bed swaddling you from the cold. Hazel eyes examined your snoozing state with a loving gaze, Azriel unsure why you spent any time at all with him let alone choosing to be his partner. Doubt swirled across the Spymaster's head, as it often did in the quiet moments when you weren't available to silence them.

As if hearing these very thoughts, your eyes gently fluttered open, a haphazard smile graced your face, his uncertainty faltering on sight. Azriel brushed a stray hair from your face, your own moving from across his abdomen to lace into his, gently pressing a kiss on cracked knuckles as you did so.

“We should get up Az” “You Dawn Court females are such sticklers for punctuality” He laughed down to you, kissing the top of your head before you rolled reluctantly away from the heat to stand and dress, Azriels focus never leaving your movement. You threw his tie back to him, breaking his stare.

“C’mon Az, Cassian won’t like if you miss his birthday because you were ogling at me” “True, he’ll be jealous” You smiled at his reply while he stood to find his discarded clothes across your studio apartment. Azriel found himself slightly struck by the simple contrast of his midnight blue and black suit decorating around your warm pastel environment. Sticking out like a drop of ink on a sundial. He scrunched his face for a moment, fighting through the feelings the visual representation of your differences brought.

Scarred hands locked buttons on his chest back together as he turned to land his eyes on the most beautiful female he could ever imagine. The dress you wore was relatively simple, a long light pink chiffon dress that shimmered in the soft glowing light of the space, its v-neckline and loose sleeves flattering you endlessly. You took no notice of Azriel's awestruck state as you sat at your vanity, plaiting your hair back, a few sneaky strands framing your face. You pinned small golden stars into the tendrils of hair while Azriel crossed the floor to stand behind you.

“You look radiant YNN” “Not too Dawn Court-” You teased, standing to kiss his cheek “-Not too shabby yourself Shadowsinger” A small blush dashed across his cheeks as he took your hands in his, too Dawn Court, too perfect he thought to himself before winnowing the both of you back to the Night Court.

It was a larger party than originally intended, they always were when Mor was organising them. Azriel sat close to you at the table of his friends in River House, fae flowing from every entrance and exit as the sound of celebrations filled the ancient streets.

You laughed wholeheartedly at Cassian's story of locking Rhysand out of the cabin one winter in nothing but his undergarments, the group's laughter almost as loud as the music. Feyre kissed your cheek lightly before sitting alongside her mate. Azriel thought of how perfectly you had slotted into his world and how he had still struggled to find his flow in Dawn and with your friends. She complimented your dress, it softly shimmering in the surrounding light, contrasting the deep blues, maroons and violets of his beloved city.

“Az? Hello?” His arm shook gently with your grip, waking him from his trance to look at your grinning face directly again.

“I’m going to get a drink, want one?” he just gave a small nod, you just laughed before finding your way towards the kitchen area.

“She’s like a perfect little doll, the ones we played with as children” Feyre laughed, Nesta agreeing.

“Like a damsel from one of our storybooks”

“Yes Elain, Azriel is quite the Prince Charming” Nesta’s sarcasm added to her sister, the group laughing, Azriel forcing a chuckle. As much as they all loved you, they agreed you didn’t exactly fit into the image of fearsome Night Court and would find themselves constantly remarking about the storybook world you came from, to your equal amusement. Azriel not agreeing with its humour, the comments re enforcing a deep-seated fear within him.

“One day you’ll tell us how you got that drop of sun to co-exist with the shadows Az” “I'll let you know when I find out myself” He painted a smile on his face at Lucien, the group laughing at his jest. You returned to the table with Mor in tow, her arm around your waist as you both laughed, some of Azriel’s drinking splashing over the rim.

“C’mon, let's dance, we can sit and chat like old boring people tomorrow”

“Who are you calling old Mor?” Cassian stood in playful defence, slightly wobbly from the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed.

“You, you old bat! C’mon let's move those hips while they still work” Her hand took his and pulled him back towards the dancing crowds, you, Nesta and Feyre following happily. It wasn’t long before Lucien and Elain joined the revelry, Rhysand and Azriel watching proudly from their seats.

“To being old bats” Rhysand tipped the top of his glass off of Azriel’s, both brothers smiling into their drinks. Azriel watched you dance hand in hand with his brother, truly carefree and endlessly happy.

“I’ve never seen you so happy Az, perhaps we’ll be making more visits to Dawn”

“What do you mean by that?” Azriel tore his smiling face from you to look at his brother.

“I’m sure YN would rather settle in Dawn, they tend not to stray too far from their Court. Besides you can work from anywhere, but she glows best at home” Rhysand offered with a soft smile before he looked back towards his mate who had taken you from a drunken Cassian. Azriel felt a small match light near the explosives in his head as the General of the Night Court came almost crashing back to the table, taking Rhysand’s drink from his hand.

“They’re right, I’m getting old-” He chuckled, sinking back next to his best friends “-I’m going to have to work on my dance moves for your wedding Az” Azriel choked slightly on his drink, his two friends laughing loudly.

“Don’t kill the male Cass” “Oh c’mon, you two have been together for years now, I don’t see you finding much better Az and as for YN, she’ll settle for our best soldier, no prince charmings need apply” He teased. Nesta sat proudly on her mate's lap, reaching for her discarded drink. The match’s flame grew in size.

“YN should be Queen of Prythian, and it not the alcohol talking, I believe it-” She practically slurred, chasing her thirst from dancing away with the wine “-Darcoo might marry her” “Drakon” Rhysand corrected with a laugh, Azriel shuffling ever so slightly in his seat.

“Whatever, she’s wasted as Dawn’s emissary to the Solar Courts, she should just assume all power of that court, marry one of you silly little High Lords even and ride into the sunset…or I guess sunrise”

“Ahem” Azriel cleared his throat, Cassian looking apologetic towards him on behalf of his mate as she rolled her eyes and stood again, finishing off the drain of alcohol left in the glass before rejoining the party. Azriel watched you again, head tilted back as you laughed with his dear friends, the room feeling now completely silent, almost moving in slow motion. The match touched the explosives.

“I know that look” Rhysand’s warning tone was a reaction to Azriel’s knitted eyebrows as he stood suddenly, crossing the dance floor before his brothers could stop him. Azriel moved with the quick precision he normally reserved for missions but he needed out of this now suffocating space. You caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, instinctively following him only slowed by the mass amounts of crowds that Azriel transversed with ease.

Azriel seemed almost drunk in his movement as he reached the cobblestone streets but his thoughts felt stone-cold sober. By the time you had made it to the entrance of the house, Azriel had made it halfway down the street. You called out to him as you ran after him.

“Hey! You didn’t hear me call you?-” You laughed as you reached his side, your face flushing from the brief bit of exercise “-What’s-what’s wrong?” Your smile faltered at his stony expression as it landed on you.

“I-I just need to go-go for walk” “Okay cool, I’ll come with you, let me borrow a throw from Feyre and-” “NO” Azriel’s voice uncharacteristically got away from him and it startled you, instantly causing guilt to pace through him. You moved to take his hand from his side, only to see him tuck it into his pocket before reaching your touch, you took a small step back from him at the movement, laughing lightly with your own rising panic as you asked -

“What?” “You don’t belong with me walking around the Night Court” “Don’t be silly Az, we walk all the time tog-” “No YN, you’re not listening to me, you don’t belong in the Night Court” he looked away from you again, fixating on a crooked stone in his path.

“What do you mean?” You quickly exchanged scared for offended, tucking your arms across your chest.

“I mean….I mean look around YN! You don’t fit in here! It’s like the sun trying to blend in with the shadows!”

“Az, what does that even mean?! You’re being ridiculous!” you shot back, standing in front of him to block him from walking away from the argument he had nightmares about every night.

“It means that you've got this fairytale and it's just not mine!”

“Why can't it be ours?!” Your own voice was beginning to rise, some passing fae throwing side eye glances.

“It-it just cant be! I think- I think it's time we say goodbye YN and I think deep down you agree”

“Az-I- What?! I don’t understand?! what did I do-” your shaking voice was cutting at Azriel as you continued “-I-I need you!”

“I don’t know why” His cold tone washed over your skin, freezing it on contact as he looked down to you, glazing his face over with an expression he usually reserved for his work.

“Becau-se because I love you Azriel” Your voice finally broke under the immense weight of heartbreak as you verbalised your first confession of love, making Azriel flinch slightly. He took a weighted breath through his mouth before biting down on his tongue, allowing the silence to fill the street in what he believed was mercy.

“Don’t-don’t you love me too?” Your eyes were defeated by the charging fears and Azriel found his own glossy eyes fixed on yours. He bit down more harshly, drawing the blood of your heartbreak. He knew this would finish you off and it did. You took a big deep breath, trying to collect whatever possible composure you could before dragging a manicured hand across your face. Your tears were free-flowing now as you winnowed out of the street, Azriel’s whole body slumping forward as you disappeared.

—------------------

“You absolute fucking asshole!” Mor threw a discarded book from the coffee table at Azriel who sat, head in hands on the couch of the Town House. Rhysand paced almost the length of the house trying to comprehend what Azriel had confessed, a week after its occurrence.

“I just thought you two were off screwing but instead you were just screwing up!” Rhysand agreed with Cassian, scolding Azriel like a small child as he towered above his brother.

“You fucked up Az” Feyre sighed across from him as she watched her mate cease his pacing.

“But I didn't! It's what's best for YN! She wasn't fitting into this stupid fucking world”

“Except she was! You big idiot!” Mor hurled another book at the broken-hearted male, which he bearly dodged as he sat back into the plush couch.

“You don't get it, I did it for her best interest”

“Oh yes because brokenhearted and confused is much better for her than happy and in love!” Cassian caught Mor’s arm before she could grab another weapon.

“Az, fix it” Rhysand ordered, sinking next to his mate, their hands instantly lacing together.

“I fixed it by ending it! Now she can go off and be happy and live the picket fence dream in Dawn that she deserves!” Azriel stood suddenly, anger bellowing from him as his shadows swam lazily around the floor, unable to find life since the incident.

He moved with heavy steps to the window, looking out onto the stage of your battlefield. His family all shared knowing glances, deciding to proceed with caution. Mor stood and caught Azriel by surprise, dragging him into her for a hug. His figure practically swallowed her petite stature and yet he found himself resting the majority of his weight down her, tears finally winning their battle on the shadowsinger and free flowing from his eyes. Cassian placed a hand on his brother's back before joining the huddle, helping Mor to support Azriel’s heartbroken weight.

“This is so stupid” Azriel let out a little laugh through weak tears, quickly wiping them from his face while pulling back from the huddle.

“C’mon Az, let's go get your storybook ending” Rhysand smiled, placing a gentle hand on his and Cassian’s shoulder before winnowing them away from the Court of Dreams.

Azriel stood outside the gate of your house, his eyes wandering up the manicured path, flowers leaking from every crevice. Rhysand and Cassian had agreed to make themselves scarce while he spoke to you, taking themselves on a walk around the neighbourhood.

Azriel cleared his lungs of air before taking shaky steps up the steps to your door, marred knuckles gently rapping off of the solid oak. After a moment, you opened the door smiling, only to have it drop from your face again as you tried to close the door, Azriel stretching his foot to block its path.

“YNN, I need to talk to you” “I’m busy Azriel” Your sharp tone contrasted harshly against his sheepish one.

“Please, give me two minutes” He stepped back, gesturing you to follow him to the porch steps where he sank into the wood. You sighed, looking back into your house and back to Azriel’s silhouette again. You joined his side, keeping some distance between the both of you as you sat.

“Okay so firstly you look beautiful and-”

“I'm only giving you two minutes Azriel” You warned.

“Right right sorry. Okay I broke up with you because we are just from such fundamentally different worlds and-”

“-this doesn't sound like an apology” You knotted your arms deeper into your chest.

“Well I mean it's kind of not-” You went to stand only to be pulled back down again before you could escape him again “-because it's why I fell for you in the first place, it's why we work, you're so not who I pictured myself with and that makes you beyond perfect, I just didn't want to ruin perfect, I ruin everything, case in point. Us”

“Az-” “-I need to explain myself please, I just I really love you and that-that is why we can’t be together, the things I love get ruined, I’ll ruin you” He admitted quietly, looking down on the flowers in the garden again as your soft eyes traced the outline of his side profile.

“Azriel, I love you and you could never ruin me and I’ve never thought you would, you’re not capable of hurting me on purpose….well except that little scene at Cassian’s birthday party” You found a small genuine laugh leave you, a surprising smile growing on Azriel’s face for the first time in a week.

“Yeah I fucked up”

“At least you know you fucked up” You laced your fingers through his the way he adored and he found his eyes landing on yours once again.

“So you're perfectly happy being with someone imperfect? No storybook ending?” You nudged him for his words and then nodded before meeting him in a sweet kiss.

“The only story I want to be in is yours”

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Whatcha think?

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muldermuse · 1 year ago

Text

two sinners (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)

ok so this is feral and I wrote it in a day bc I could feel it rotting away in my brain

Gator Tillman is a horrible guy and reader wants to get him back.

18+ only!!! Smut below. Smut includes piv sex, infidelity (pretty big thing), Gator is mean but so is reader, oral (f receiving), rimming (m receiving), slutshaming, mention of anal (f receiving), mention of cuffs used as restraints, brief nipple play, use of the word whore/slut, spitting, dirty talk, praise kink, stalking???. If any of that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

this could be a multi part fic. It was fun to write and I enjoy the dynamic so lemme know if u enjoyed!!!

He’s barely out of you by the time he says it this time. “That’s the last fuckin’ time I do this shit, we’re done”. He spits it at you like it’s acid on his tongue.

You’re lying on your bed completely naked as his come is slowly dripping out of you onto your linen. The first few times you’d done this, you put on fresh linen and lit a floral candle. He never appreciated it so you stopped. His statement would hurt you a lot more if this wasn’t becoming a regular occurrence. It’s become a routine; something it was never supposed to be.

He visits your home, fucks you however you want him to, makes you come as many times as he can, he feels guilt as soon as he finishes, he splashes cold water over his face in your en suite bathroom (leaves it in puddles across your tiled floor and organised surfaces) and then grabs his things and storms out. He’ll be back before the end of the week- he always is.

You’re getting tired of it. It should be harder now he has a girlfriend and you’re seeing a few guys from the local area. But it isn’t. You’re unsure why.

He tells you he hasn’t slept with Glenda yet. His daddy loves her, thinks she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen and he’s been vocal about his dislike of you. You think he’s a fucking idiot so you guess it’s good that the feeling is mutual. Gator can’t be with anyone his daddy doesn’t like, you’ve heard him brag about how he could get any gal he wants but you know it’s not true. You’re pretty sure that Gator knows that as well deep down.

You were sleeping together before he got with Glenda. Glenda is a church girl and his daddy’s protege. Roy sets them up and tells Gator he’s been blessed to have Glenda enter his life. Whereas, Roy thinks you have sin in your heart and you know that you do. You believe him that he hasn’t slept with her yet, if he does- it makes the whole relationship real. This is something that you know Gator is trying to avoid. His head is buried deep beneath the sand and he’s trying to find air holes to catch his breath before he suffocates.

You’re sleeping with other people, like Jax from the local store and Steve from the bar. Neither know about each other or about your Gator situation. Jax and Steve take you out on dates and fuck you in their cars and their homes. It’s passionate and sweet. It’s filled with promises and hope. Gator fucks you like he’s trying to get expel something deadly from his body. Gator’s a terrible person and you know that you are too. This is why you’re done with him, not for Glenda or Roy Tillman. Certainly not for Jax and Steve. You’re done because you want him to want you more than he ever has before. He’s an asshole and you want him more desperate than ever for you. You hear him spit in your sink as he comes back into the bedroom.

“You say this shit all the time Gator. What if I’m done with you huh?” You’re still naked and you can feel his cum drying on your inner thighs.

“You’re the one who always comes crawlin’ back to me remember? Jus’ a fuckin’ whore- that’s why I liked usin’ you though so don’t take it personal”. He giggles cruelly as he shrugs his jacket back on.

His words don’t hurt, a few months ago they would’ve made your stomach drop and tears prick in your eyes. But now? It just fuels you.

“Go back to Glenda, Gator”. That will hurt him. You never say her name, you only do it because that sentence is the equivalent of a scorching red hot poker branding his sensitive skin.

“Don’t say her fuckin’ name”. Anger flashes across his eyes. “I am so fuckin’ done with you and I mean it”. You want to laugh at how powerful he perceives his words to be.

“You say fuckin’ shit you don’t mean all the time Gator. It’s like breathing to you”. You wrap a bedsheet around you and get up to stand in front of him.

“That’s it then, you’re done with this right?” He nods. “I don’t wanna see your fuckin’ face or hear from you again. Don’t text me, don’t casually come into my work and don’t fuckin’ turn up here.

Get the fuck out of my fuckin’ house, Gator”

***

Two weeks pass with nothing. You can’t say you’re not impressed. He doesn’t glance at you when you see him on the street. He doesn’t call or text.

Glenda shares pictures on Facebook of the pair of them. She looks happy and he looks uncomfortable. You think that that sums up the entire relationship. You know he’s going to break and speak to you; it’s just waiting.

You carry on seeing Jax and Steve. Jax takes you to a drive in movie theatre and goes down on you on the backseat for the entire movie. He buys you your favourite candies and chips for the ride there and back. He makes you laugh and asks if you want to make it official- you tell him you don’t. He asks when he can see you again.

Steve takes you to a new steakhouse. He gets you a bottle of red wine and when you don’t like how your steak is cooked; he swaps your plates. You go back to his place and ride him on the couch in his living room. You spend the entire time thinking about how you couldn’t do this with Gator because he lives with his daddy. Before you leave, Steve gives you a necklace with your birthstone on. He tells you how much you mean to him, you thank him and drive home.

You don’t miss Gator. You don’t feel positively about him at all. You just like that he wants you and you like the power you hold over him. If you wanted to ruin his life you could. You could tell his daddy and Glenda that he loves fucking a sinner. That he’s fucked you in every possible way they could imagine and he loves it. You could tell them about how he’s been that pussydrunk on you; he’s told you he’s in love with you. Or maybe about how after you ate his ass on his daddy’s dining room table, he told you he wanted to run away with you and that he’d already looked into it and started storing money away. You didn’t say anything back to him, you just stored away these love drunk confessions so you could use them against him.

Gator Tillman is the worst guy you know.

And he makes you feel fucking powerful.

***

It takes 4 weeks in total for him to break.

[received on Monday at 04:32] Gator🐍💩: are u going to the church potluck on Saturday

[received on Monday at 10:12] Gator🐍💩: just bc u went last year, know it’s not ur scene tho.

[received on Monday at 15:05] Gator🐍💩: im goin with Glenda so just don’t want it to be awkward

[received at Tuesday at 01:54] Gator🐍💩: ?? Do you have a new number?

He calls you three times on Wednesday.

You ignore every text and every ring.

His patrol car is parked over the street from you on Thursday. He knows you leave for work at half 6 in the morning. You know you’ll see him again, probably during lunch as he is so fucking predictable. Every Thursday, you go for a bagel at a local deli because you love the mid week special. You can already picture his car parked outside there on the curb waiting for you. So you know it’s a great time to invite your new, very handsome, colleague called Jenson along. Jenson is new to the department and is a quarterback for a local team. He’s made his attraction to you pretty clear, he brings in a coffee for you every morning and has asked you out for drinks before.

You offer to drive Jenson to the deli and, of course, Gator’s car is parked out front. He sees you but you don’t look at him. You can feel his eyes burning into you and Jenson. You grip Jenson’s bicep and throw your head back in a giggle and something mediocrely funny that he said. As you get closer to Gator’s car, you politely smile at him and squeeze Jenson’s arm tighter.

[received on Thursday at 21:45] Gator🐍💩: Jenson Ackerley????? really??? that guys a fuckin asshold

[received on Thursday at 22:35] Gator🐍💩: *asshole

Instead of replying to Gator, you spend Thursday evening exchanging flirty texts with Jenson. You invite him to the Potluck on Sunday and ask if he wants to come back to your place for dessert.

***

He reaches new levels of desperation on Friday.

“Hi, it’s Joe on reception. I’m really sorry to disturb you on your lunch. I have Sheriff Tillman here and he just wants to come to your office if that’s okay?”

You’re sat alone preparing for the rest of your day when Joe’s call comes through. Jenson has finished early for the day and gave you a bouquet of flowers before he left. He smiled when he gave them to you and said he couldn’t wait to spend the day with you on Sunday.

You’re excited as well but for a different reason.

“Hi Joe, I’m sorry but can you tell Gator that I’m just having my lunch with Mr Ackerley so I don’t have time for a chat”

You can hear Gator speaking in the distance after Joe relays your message to him.

“He says it will only take a few minutes”

“Can you apologise for me Joe and tell him that Mr Ackerley and I will see him on Sunday at his Father’s potluck”

You hear Joe recite the message verbatim for Gator. Although you can’t see it, you can imagine the look of disgust on his face and it makes you grin.

You spend Friday evening texting Jenson and telling him in detail what you’re going to do when you get back to your home on Sunday. He asks if you want to ‘skip straight to dessert’ and miss the potluck. You tell him you can’t because you’re planning to see a friend. You don’t tell him who it is.

***

You wear an outfit you know Gator will love on Sunday. It’s a pale green flouncy dress which pushes your tits up and looks amazing. Your hair is half up half down and your make up is dewy with a strawberry scented lip gloss brushed over your lips. You text Jenson and ask him to bring an extra coat for you to wear because you’ll be cold. He doesn’t ask why you don’t just wear your own.

Jenson tells you how beautiful you look on your doorstep and he hands you another bouquet. It’s white peonies and he says it nearly matches your outfit. As you laugh at him, you pull his face to yours to kiss him. He drives to the potluck in his truck and you listen to a country album he’s been telling you about. You haven’t brought a meal but Jenson’s mom has made some pasta salad so you’ll pass that off as your own. His hand stays on your upper thigh the entire ride.

The first person you see at the potluck is Glenda. She looks great, you have to admit. Her blonde hair is in a tight bun sitting at the nape of her neck. Her dress is long, black and covers her body. A diamond crucifix hangs around her neck and you know that Roy made his son buy that for her as a token of his love for her.

You and Glenda don’t get on. You know she doesn’t suspect anything about you and Gator; her mind wouldn’t even dare think about it. You’ve known her since high school and you could lie and say that the only reason you don’t like her is because you existed in different social groups. It isn’t because of that. It’s because Glenda is a truly and fundamentally awful person. You recognised in your younger years that she enjoyed making people miserable. Shaming people about their relationships to god and judging everyone from afar.

She smiles politely at Jenson as he puts his hand on your lower back. She tries not to scowl at you as you hand her the dish of pasta salad. You know she thinks you look like a slut, she’ll definitely run to her friends and tell them about how disgraceful it is that you’ve come into a church community looking like a whore. You smile harder when you think about how Gator has fucked you in his patrol car whilst you wore this dress.

Jenson goes to the grand table in the centre of the hall. As he’s pouring a cup of punch for both of you, he gets accosted by two of Glenda’s friends who take their time complimenting him all the while smirking at you. You feel a presence next to you, you cross your arms to push your tits higher as you turn around.

“Oh, hi Roy, didn’t hear you sneakin’ up on me”. Your grin to him is saccharine and he snarls in response.

“I don’t remember invitin’ you to this, for the church community only. A community you are not part of so it’s time to go”. His voice is gruff and as you go to respond; you see Gator.

You make eye contact across the hall. He looked stressed and then as soon as he saw you; it flickered to what you can only imagine is rage. Glenda is talking away at him and he’s not looking at her. His eyes are trailing up and down your body. He recognises the dress. Jenson obscures your view as he stands in front of you holding out a cup of punch. He wraps his arm around you and whispers lowly in your ear that he’s spiked both of your cups with liquor from his flask. You giggle back at him, get on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his jaw.

Although you think it would be hilarious, you want to avoid an interaction with you, Jenson, Glenda and Gator. At this point, you’re unsure if Gator’s heart could take it. Jenson gets pulled away by Glenda’s friends to help arrange the plates for the potluck dishes and of course he does it. He kisses you before he goes and as your lips touch; your eyes never leave Gator’s.

***

It takes twenty minutes for him to grab your wrist and pull you into an empty room. Everyone is too preoccupied with grabbing plates to notice you both leave.

“Real fuckin’ nice. Comin’ here dressed like a fuckin’ slut and can’t keep your fuckin’ hands off some shitty quarterback. You know what people think of you, right?” He’s in your face, the spit from his lips is hitting your mouth and cheeks.

He’s so mad.

And, of course, you fucking love it.

“Surprisingly Gator, I don’t give a fuck what your fuckin’ church girl or asshole daddy think of me…I know what you think about me though”. You move in closer to him and he doesn’t try to back away. His eyes bore into yours and you can hear him try to steady his breath. You can imagine his heart thundering away in his chest. You rest your hands on his vest and slowly unzip it.

“You think I’m a good girl. You’ve said it before- remember? You’ve said it when you fucked me in your patrol car…”

Your fingers move to unbutton his shirt.

“You whispered it to me when Glenda was downstairs and you had me on my knees sucking your cock in your daddy’s bathroom…she had no idea we were in there did she?” You giggle lightly as you feel his heart rate thumping quickly under your fingers.

“And you definitely thought I was a good girl that time you fucked my ass in your bed. Remember? We used the handcuffs, I think you called it me a few times…yeah you definitely did. You said I was such a good fucking girl”.

His shirt is half unbuttoned and his chest is basically heaving under the strain of his rapid heartbeat. You can feel his hard dick pressing into you, you smile at him and take a step back.

“I gotta go though, Jenson is probably waiting for me. We’ll probably shoot off soon, he said- he said, ha, that we’d have dessert back at my place. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get lucky tonight…he probably thinks I’m a good girl too. Maybe I can be his good girl from now on”.

He storms past you, his shoulder barging into yours on his way past and for a second, you’re devastated. Maybe you pushed him too far? Are you going to have to wait another four weeks for him to cave.

But he doesn’t leave.

He just locks the door and pushes a table against it as quietly as he can.

***

He grabs your hips and pulls them towards him.

“You fuckin’ feel that right? You feel how fuckin’ hard you make me. I’ve had this since I fuckin’ left your place four weeks ago. I fuckin’ hate you…I’ve fuckin’ missed you”. You’re not sure you would classify it as a kiss, it’s more like he’s shoving his face against yours.

He runs his hand through your hair and grips it; the power of it forces you to open your mouth. You stick your tongue out and give him your best doe eyes. He smirks and nibbles your jaw. Hard but not hard enough to leave any kind of mark. You maintain eye contact as he spits in your mouth. He raises his eyebrows at you and you swallow without objection. He smirks as you open your mouth and stick your tongue back out.

He kisses your neck and bites it lightly as you fight the urge to run your hands through his hair (Heaven forbid you mess up his slicked back hair).

“Baby, we gotta be quick. They might come lookin’ for us” he mumbles against your neck.

You go to bend over the table pushed against the door but Gator stops you before you can flip your dress up to grant him access.

“No baby, I need to see you. Missed your fuckin’ face too much…wanna watch you get e’en prettier when I make you come”

He kisses you hard as he pushes you down against the table. He gets on his knees in front of you like your pussy is a biblical experience. He kisses your clit through your lace underwear and gently nips it with his teeth.

“Gator, we don’t have time to tease” you try your hardest not to moan outwardly as you speak. You can’t let him know how much he’s affecting you, even though how wet he’s making you has completely given it away.

He rips your underwear off and pulls your tits out of your dress. He takes them between his hands and rolls your nipples with his thumb and forefinger. You can hear him mumbling under his breath but you can’t work out what he’s saying. He always gets transfixed with your boobs.

He doesn’t warn you as he notches his cock into you. You’re wet enough that he slides in with one motion. He’s on your mouth before there’s a chance for a moan to slip out. He thrusts into you slow and deep, he nudges your g spot and your eyes roll back into your head as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

The only sounds filling the room is the soft rhythmic creak of the wooden table, the steady thrusts of Gator’s cock into you and the stifled moans slipping into each others mouths. It’s all too much, the noises, Gator’s cock perfectly grazing your g spot, his tongue in your mouth and the thought that he’s doing this mere feet away from his daddy and girlfriend. Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and as you squeeze his cock, Gator puts his hand over your mouth and shushes you but he doesn’t stop fucking you. Your eyes roll into the back of his head as you hear him curse above you. This is the most intense sex you’ve ever had with him.

It is so worth the wait.

You know he’s getting close; he has obvious tells that you could recite perfectly. His left leg starts to twitch, his mouth slightly hangs open and his eyes glaze over. He also either gets sentimental or speaks like he’s in a shitty Brazzers porn video. This time it’s a mix of the two.

“Take my fuckin’ come, you take it so fuckin’ good. It’s all yours- it’s all yours”. He thrusts hard inside you twice before he stills. He rests his forehead against yours and presses a soft kiss to your lips. You allow yourself a few seconds to enjoy his tenderness.

You readjust your dress as Gator moves the table away from the door. You slip on Jenson’s coat as you walk over to the locked door.

“I meant what I said y’know…I’ve missed you”. Again, you’re back in the routine. You know it well and you can’t deny how much you enjoy it. He’s going to ask to fuck you tonight, he’ll promise that it’ll be special- that’s what he usually says.

He moves to interlock his pinky finger with yours.

“Get rid of Jenson and let me come round tonight. Tell him you’re sick or somethin’. I wanna…I mean… I gotta to make it up to you. I’ll tell Glenda that I picked up an extra shift. That gives us all night an’ we can take our time”.

As you open your mouth to respond, you hear a knock on the door and Jenson’s voice calling out.

“You in there hon? I think I’m gonna head out…really fancy dessert. Y’know, if you catch my drift”.

***

You tell Jenson in the car that you’re not feeling well. He’s a good guy and offers to stay and look after you. When you say no, he asks for a coffee date later this week and you agree.

As you see his reverse out of your driveway; you text Gator that he can come round if he’s here in the next hour.

He’s back in your bed in less than forty minutes.

#fargo #fargo fx #fargo season 5 #fargo s5 #fargoedit #gator tillman smut #gator tillman #gator Tillman x reader #joe keery #joe keery smut #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman fic #joe keery x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x f!reader #two sinners works

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clarkeyhill · 18 days ago

Text

Crawling Back To You | George Clarke Part Two

Fluff. Smut. Angst

"George" Katie replied

"Okay, any description?" You reply

"No, he said you'd know who he is immediately" she chuckled

"Right okay" you laugh

The next day came, you were preparing for the night ahead. Organising your outfits together, unsure of what vibe it would be. You went casual. A light pink cropped tee & ripped flared mom jeans; some Nike dunks to pair. It wasn't a night out, so the need for all the glitz and glam didn't seem necessary. Although, Katie made the effort to be over the top as usual, to keep Chris' eyes on her.

"You ready?" Katie calls from the hallway

"Yeah, just tying my laces" you beckon

You emerge from the bedroom, your hair slightly waving as it cascade over your shoulders. You added a touch of silver jewellery to sort of spice up your look.

"You look great" you say to Katie

"Thanks, it's not too much is it?" She replies

"Never!" You giggle

You arrive after a short walk, Katie was nervous as was I, don't get me wrong Chris seemed nice, but she'd only met him a day before. So I was skeptical.

"I'm not sure about this, it seems a little rushed?" I add

“You know him already,” she said as we walked to the bar. Her boots clicked on the pavement while I stuffed my hands into my coat pockets against the cold. “And he’s bringing his friend George for you.

“I don't see why though” I said, half-laughing.

“Because Chris swears you two will get on like a house on fire,” Katie said, grinning. “Something about your ‘energies’ matching.”

I rolled my eyes. Chris—he was nice, laid-back, and honestly, great for Katie—but his matchmaking instincts were about to be put to the test.

We arrived just as Chris waved us over. He looked genuinely pleased to see Katie, his easy smile lighting up his face. Beside him stood George, a tall guy with an unruly mop of hair and an equally easy smile.

“Hey, good to see you again!” Chris said, giving me a quick hug before motioning to his friend. “This is George.”

“Hi,” I said, offering a polite smile.

George extended his hand. “Hey you must be y/n, Chris has mentioned a lot about you" he says with a warm smile, a slight chuckle leaving his mouth

“Oh, has he?” I said, raising an eyebrow at Chris.

“All good things!” Chris assured me, laughing.

The four of us settled into a booth near the bar, and before long, the conversation started flowing. Katie and Chris were clearly in their own world, leaving George and me to talk.

“So,” I said, sipping the cocktail Chris had recommended—a zingy blend of gin and elderflower, “what do you do?”

“I’m in social media,” George said. “content creation, that kind of thing. It’s a weird job, but I love it.”

“Social media, huh? What’s the weirdest project you’ve worked on?” I replied

George laughed, his eyes crinkling in a way that caught me off guard. “Oh, that’s easy. A campaign to make adult diapers trendy on YouTube after a tuk tuk race in Sri Lanka" he rolled his eyes as he laughed

I couldn’t help but giggle. From there, the conversation took on a life of its own. We swapped stories about work, shared opinions on movies, and debated the best cocktails on the menu.

“You have to try this one,” George said at one point, sliding a drink across the table toward me.

“What is it?”

“No idea,” he admitted. “But the bartender said it’s a ‘surprise.’”

I took a cautious sip, then winced. “That’s…strong.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

The more we talked, the more I found myself surprised by how easy it was to be around him. George had this unassuming charm, a way of making everything feel fun without trying too hard.

“You know,” he said as the night wore on, “Chris wasn’t wrong. Our energies do match.”

“Guess I’ll have to give him credit for that,” I said with a smile.

By the time the bar started to wind down, George and I were still chatting while Katie and Chris had moved on to discussing their favorite hiking spots.

As we got up to leave, George turned to me, his expression soft but hopeful. “This was fun. Would you want to do it again sometime? Just us?”

I hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

On the walk home, Katie couldn’t stop grinning. “Told you,” she teased.

“Alright, fine,” I said, laughing. “Chris has better instincts than I gave him credit for.”

What had started as a night to support my friend turned into something I hadn’t expected—but something I was glad I hadn’t missed.

🫶🏻

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the parts! 🩷

#george clarkey #youtube #george clarke #british youtubers #arthur hill

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sweetbonniebel · 6 months ago

Text

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Twelve

Summary: Only a few months passed since the previous chapter but the year changed. A plot is discovered!

Masterlist <-previous , next->

123 AC Bloodstone, Stepstones

"Your Highness a letter from the capitol." Maester Roland approached you, handing you the scroll.

"Thank you, Roland." You said your thanks and the grey dressed man retreated to his wing.

"What is it mother?" Nymor asked trying to peek at the parchment, you chuckled at his eagerness.

"If you'll let me read I will tell you." He obediently moved away but waited impatiently.

"It is from Princess Rhaenyra." You announced skimming over the letters

"What does it say?" Nymor questioned, his need for knowledge insatiable.

"She will arrive on Bloodstone in a moons time, an important matter is to be settled." You answered a bit unsure of what the important matter is.

"Will Jace, Luke and Joffrey come too?" He asked.

"Perhaps." You mumbled caressing your swollen belly as you strolled with your second son through castle Bloodfyre. "Do you not wish to join Derran in Dorne?" You questioned

"I prefer to stay close to you, mother." He answered, and you couldn't help the smile that crept on your lips. You pressed a kiss to his curly silver hair.

The celebration for Aegon's six and tenth name day will happen in a moons time, half the realm was invited to castle Bloodfyre to celebrate such a joyous occasion. You were getting a migraine organising the whole affair, your pregnancy and constant tiredness didn't help either. Thankfully Daemon was a big help.

You walked with Nymor to the gardens, you could hear the familiar screeching of Aegarax, Gaelithox and Aerion's unnamed hatchling. The three baby dragons chased after one another occasionally breathing small bubbles of fire.

If the hatchlings were there it meant your sons were nearby. You walked to see Baelon, Vhaenor and Aerion listen intently to Daemon as two maids followed after them.

"Husband?" You questioned interrupting whatever Daemon was saying.

"Wife." he answered and slowly walked over to you, your boys being the first ones to run to you. Except for Aerion who was held by Daemon, the boy was almost one already.

"What were you telling them?"

"A story of their grandfather." He responded pressing a kiss to your lips, Aerion making a dissatisfied noise.

"Did you enjoy your fathers story?" You asked Baelon and Vhaenor who nodded quickly busy with talking to Nymor. Your second son eagerly answering their questions.

"Rhaenyra will arrive soon." You stated, glancing at your husband.

"Hmm? Whatever for?"

“She didn’t say. Only that an important matter has to be discussed.” You murmured.

“You’re as thick as thieves I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

You hummed agreeing to Daemon’s words. Your sons scurried off elsewhere leaving the two of you alone.

“How much will her visit cost us?” Daemon suddenly asked.

“I’m not sure, she didn’t specify as to who will accompany her. I think it is a rather discreet matter, a big entourage would prove to be a hassle. Why?”

“I have been going over the books regarding our spending. The port is doing well, the trade is blossoming but the cost of building a castle is still quite large.”

“Has dragon fire not reduced the costs enough all ready?” You questioned.

“That’s not the issue, the issue is gathering materials. We live on a group of islands where stone is most common. Shipping wood is a rather costly and tedious.”

“Then we plant trees.” You answered

“Those will not grow in time, my love.”

“I know but it’s a start. We are poorly defended with a half done castle.”

“Bloodstone is the heart of trade now a days, perhaps we could indulge in fine exotic goods.”

“Such as?”

“Dragon scale or teeth. Merchants, Essosi princess would pay good money for such a rare item.”

“Perhaps… and how do you believe we collect these rare items.”

“We have five hatchlings as of now, they grow therefore loose scales and baby teeth.”

“Yes, baby teeth. But perhaps you’re right. I’ll see to it.”

“No, my wife. You should not strain yourself.” He said firmly a loving gaze in his violet orbs. He placed his large warm palm on your flat stomach. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not pregnant, Daemon.”

“Not yet, but soon.”

“And how would you know that?” You quirked a brow at him.

“Call it father’s intuition.”

You chuckled at his words. He intertwined your arms together and you strolled through the castle gardens.

“Your Highness, a letter from Dorne.” One of your maids bowed and handed you to folded parchment. You nodded your head and dismissed her.

You carefully broke the orange seal and read. So many letters in one day you thought.

“What is it? Does Darren want to return home?” You stayed quiet reading the letter one more time. “My love?”

“Darren is sick, Maron writes that he suddenly fell ill and is has not woken.” You breathlessly said your fingers covering your lips. Fear overtook your body.” I should not have let him go to Dorne… I have to go.” You said and begun walking in the direction of your chambers. Daemon trailed after you.

“y/n Darren is strong. He will be fine.” He tried to reassure you

“You don’t know that!” You silently shouted stopping. “He is my son! He is just a boy, what if he doesn’t get better. I need to go to him.”

“He has the blood of the dragon a simple illness will not take him away. Our blood is immune to normal diseases.”

“He is half Rhoynish, and do you not remember the shivering sickness? The one that took little Daenerys and killed half the realm?”

“I- I will watch over the children.” He finally relented

“Thank you…” You quickly kissed his lips and resumed the walk to your chambers.

You changed into a bronze and black riding leathers, and quickly departed to find Vermithor.

…

Sunspear looked serene from above. Merchants, artisans, farmers and other small folk filled the streets. The old Palace stood grand in the middle of the bustling city.

The sun high in the air illuminated the stained glass windows. Adding colour to the castle made of beige sandstone.

The bronze fury landed on the outskirts of the city, where he once rested during your time in Sunspear. A horse and armed guards were already waiting near the city gates.

“Princess y/n.” They bowed their heads and handed you the reigns to a beautiful white sand steed.

“Thank you, we must go quickly.” You ordered and galloped through the streets. The courtyard was mostly empty, Moran was already awaiting your presence.

“Good brother.” You approached and took of your gloves, letting Moran kiss the back of your hand.

“Good sister.” He answered “Darren is in his chambers.”

“When did this happen?” You quietly questioned, worried that if you were any louder your voice would betray you.

“Two days ago. The maesters are not sure as to what happened to him. He was fine and suddenly he collapsed.”

“My poor boy.” You whispered to yourself. “Have the maesters checked for poison?”

“No princess… Who would want to poison a child?” Maron was distraught.

“He is not just a child, Maron. He is the prince of Dorne.” You didn’t trust the maesters not even the ones who served in your home. You much preferred the healers from Braavos and Volantis. They were skilled and unbiased. The Citadel was in Old Town, it is dominion of Hightowers.

“Have any of the Essosi healers looked at him?” You questioned.

“No… The Maesters have said that they would do more harm than good.”

“And do you trust them?”

“To trust a man is a feat I think not many have achieved.”

“Do you trust me then?”

Maron looked a bit unsure at your questioned but nodded nonetheless.

“You were my brothers wife, you have two Dornish children. We are family.”

“Then as your family I advise you not to trust those grey rats.”

Maron was stunned.

“I will send for the healers that serve me on Bloodstone. For now I would like to be alone with my son.” You said as you approached the door to Darren’s chambers. Your good brother nodded and retreated. You entered the room to find a maester and few servants. “Out. All of you.” You ordered voice ice cold.

“Your highness, if you would give me a moment. I have not finished the treatment.”

“I do not care, leave.” You ordered, the elderly man hesitated but left after offering a small bow.

Tears danced in the corners of your eyes as you looked at Darren. His sun kissed skin was now sickly pale, you could see his chest moving up and down very slowly. As if the act of breathing brought him pain. You kneeled at his bedside and took his frail hand in yours pressing it to your forehead.

“My son.” You whispered tears choking your throat “My boy… What have they done to you?”

You were not a religious person by any means. The only gods you paid respect to were the gods of Old Valyria but in that moment, you would pray to any god out there. Preform a dozen sacrifices if it meant that Darren would get better.

“Mother…” He wheezed, your eyes shot up to see Darren’s misty ones staring back at you.

“Darren!” Tears streamed down your cheeks as you embraced his laying body. “Oh my son, my sweet boy.”

“Mummy” He cried “It hurts..!”

“What hurts tell me.” You frantically moved around him. He didn’t answer only stared with tears in his eyes and a pained expression.

“Sleep..” he croaked “Night..”

“What..?” You questioned

“Rat..” he slipped off to unconsciousness.

“Darren?” You meekly asked mulling over his words. “Sleep? Night? Rat?”

Was he poisoned? But by who and with what? You spent hours next to his bedside, hoping, praying for an answer.

You slowly rose from your feet and left the chamber. A lonely guard was standing in front of the door.

“Guard this entry. No one may enter until I return.” You ordered.

“As you command princess.” He straightened his back.

You slowly made your way to the maesters wing, knocking gently.

“Maester?” You questioned “I’m sorry for intruding at such a late hour but there is a matter of grace importance I wish to discuss.”

You heard shuffling and footsteps, the door slightly opened revealing the Maester.

“Your highness, how can I be of service?” He let you in into his solar. Various books and concoctions were scattered throughout the room.

"It is about my son." you answered taking a seat, the elderly man doing the same. "If i may ask maester where are you from?"

"A peculiar question, your highness." You raised and eyebrow and ushered him "I was born and raised in Oldtown."

“A magnificent city isn’t it? Never had the pleasure to visit.” You murmured.

“Yes, magnificent indeed.”

“Hmm… tell me what happened to your prince.” You ordered, the man furrowed his eyebrows.

“A terrible thing, the prince seemed to be fine lively and brave as he usually is. Then the other day he suddenly collapsed and hasn’t woken since.” He concluded.

“Collapsed where?”

“I do not know, your highness. I have tended to him in his chambers.”

“And you didn’t think to ask where he suddenly fell?”

“At the moment no. I think it was in the gardens.”

“You think?”

“Pardon me, I was quite overwhelmed with stabilizing the princes life to ask.”

“Hmm” You nodded fixing your posture in the uncomfortable chair “What do you suspect his is?”

“Oh it is quite difficult to tell, his symptoms are fatigue, headaches.”

“You’re a maester, tell me your diagnosis as of now.” You hardened your stare at the grey rat.

“I would suspect it is perhaps a sun stroke.”

“Thank you maester, I apologize if I have been rude. I simply worry for my son.”

“It is natural for mothers to worry for their children.” He nodded, you left his chambers. Your blood boiling, he is an accomplice he has to be.

For now you had to take your son with you. You were a fool to believe he would be safe here in his home. Dorne only recently and begrudgingly joined the seven kingdoms. The other kingdoms influence was scarce, especially the crownlands. The Dornishmen valued their independence above anything, that was proven during the conquest. Perhaps they feel betrayed by your husband and son who agreed and upholded the tract made with your grandsire.

Thoughts swarmed your head as you approached your son’s door. A maid waited by the entrance tray in hand.

“Princess.” The guard acknowledged your presence slightly startling the poor girl.

“Who are you?” You questioned not recognizing the maid.

“Celia, your highness.” You noticed she did not posses the accent that most Dornish had.

“And what are you doing here?” You approached the younger girl.

“I bring tea and medicine to the prince.” She quietly answered, you could see her hands trembling.

“Calm down, child.” You said “I’ll take this off your hands.” You tried to grab the tray but the girl evaded. “No..!” She said a bit panicked.

“No?”

“I-I the kitchens instructed me to deliver this to the prince myself.”

“And whose order in the kitchen is more important than that of a princess?” You questioned.

“Yours, your highness.” She meekly answered. You took the tray from her and the guard stationed outside his door opened it for you. Before entering you leaned into the man’s ear.

“Keep an eye on her.” You whispered, the man solemnly nodded.

You placed the tray with the medicine on the table. You raised the steaming cup to your nose and took a whiff. A rather sharp and irritating smell hit your nose. This was not tea, that much you can tell. You have dabbled in herbs and medicine in your youth. Often making concoctions for your grandsire and then husband.

If this were a poison it was rare and difficult to detect. You stood in the middle of the room pondering over the events of the day. You sighed and walked over to the door.”

“Bring me the girl.” You ordered the guard, he obliged and a few moment later a knock interrupted your thoughts.

The maid from before was slightly shaking in the guards hold.

“Do not fret, Celia. Come, sit.” You invited the servant girl to the table. The cup of tea still steaming.

The girl was squirming under your gaze, her gaze was focused on her lap.

“Are you Dornish?” You questioned, she slightly shook her head.

“No.” She whispered timidly.

“Where?”

“I am from a small village east of the Honeywine river.”

“Oh? You must be scared being in an unfamiliar land.”

She simply nodded.

“Who sent you here?”

“My father is a merchant from Oldtown, we moved to Sunspear for better opportunities.”

“What a touching story, you must be parched my dear.” You smiled slightly “Drink.” You ordered moving the cup in her direction.

“That tea is for the prince, your highness.” She objected.

“The prince is unconscious. He will not mind.”

“I cannot it would be improper of me-“

“Improper? As much as refusing an order from the princess of the realm”

“N-No”

“Drink.” You now ordered the smile disappearing from your lips. The girls eyes widened, her breath became more rapid.

She tried to steady her breath as she stared at the teacup. After a moment she took it in her hand. “I am not t-thirsty, you highness. You sent her a cold stare. She obliged and pressed the cup to her rosy, slightly parted lips.

Once the liquid was to flow through her throat she slammed the cup on the table.

“I-I cannot, I’m sorry.” Tears flowed through her nervous eyes. She hiccuped pressing her head in her hands.

“What’s in the cup?” You questioned roughly grabbing the girl by her hair and making her look at your face.

“Poison.” She wailed.

“What kind?!”

“Nightshade..! I’m sorry!”

“Who gave you the order?!” You shouted at her tightening the grip on her locks.

“There w-was a man in the kitchens! He gave me the tea and told to deliver it to the prince!”

“More!” You ordered searching for answers in her eyes.

“I do not know!”

“Say or I will feed you to fire! You tried to kill my son! A boy of only three and ten! Your prince!”

“I did not mean to.” She cried and wailed stumbling over her words.

You let go of her hair.

“Guard!” You ordered, two men walked in “Bring everyone working in the kitchens out in the courtyard.”

“Princess it is night-“

“Now!”

The two scurried off and nodded.

“You will tell me who gave you the poison meant to kill my son.”

She quickly nodded, groveling on her knees.

You stared from the balcony as the guards gathered every worker from the kitchens. The girl, Celia was standing next to you.

“Show me.” You ordered. The girl nodded and scanned the crowd. Her finger pointed towards a man, tall and rather skinny. You nodded at the guards and they took the screaming and trashing man to the dungeons.

From the corner of your eye you beckoned a knight over.

“Make sure the Maester doesn’t leave his chambers.”

He bowed and left, his armor rattling with every step. You handed to girl to another knight. You will questioned the both of them in the morning. For now you needed rest.

…

You stared with disdain at the man before you, kneeling and chained.

“Name.”

“Harrold.” He answered, his confidence not wavering.

“Were you the one to poison my son? Your prince.” You calmly asked, the man shook his head and you nodded at the dungeon master. He took a step forward in his hand were heavy metal pincers. The burly man grabbed Harrold’s hand and with the pincers he grabbed his nail and pulled. The man wailed in pain.

“Will you tell the truth now?” He cried and cried.

“Y-yes!” You nodded at the dungeon master to remove another nail.

“That was for admitting that you were lying before. Now speak!”

“I received the money, order and poison from a man. I-I don’t know what he was called. He just said he serves in the red keep!”

“And the girl? Celia?”

“She’s just a servant!”

“And the man, tell me more!”

“I-I do not know!” Another nail another scream.

“Who was the man?!” You demanded.

"I don't know! He just gave me the poison!"

"No ordinary man can afford such a poison... or make one!" You nodded at the dungeon master to remove another nail.

"T-The maester!" He finally screamed out in pain.

"What of the maester!?"

"He m-made the poison! A man just gave it to me!"

“What was he wearing?”

“A-a cloak!”

“What color?!”

“G-green.” He croaked out, and it is as if time stopped.

Green

…

A fortnight passed and Darren begun waking up more and more. His strength was coming back, the color in his face and eyes as well.

You watched with fondness as he devoured a duck roasted in honey with potatoes on the side. A cup of honey milk in a cup next to him. A food taster was now present for every meal he ate.

“Mummy, are you well?” He asked.

“I should be the one to ask you that, my love.” You mused placing a spare strand of brown hair behind his ear.

“You’re pale, and you do not eat.”

“I simply am worried for you.”

“Really? You look like this every time you’re with a babe.”

His words stunned you, and then you thought. You were not missing your moon blood, not yet anyway. You felt fine, tired but you wrote of the tiredness as a result of your son’s poisoning.

“We will return home soon. Once you get strong enough.”

“I am strong enough! I want to see Aegon and Nymor and the rest of my siblings.”

“I shall think about it.”

But he was right, there was no point in keeping him in Sunspear. He would be much safer on Bloodstone.

“Your highness!” A guard burst through the doors to your son’s chamber. You frowned worried. “A dragon spotted a few leagues away from Sunspear.”

“What did the dragon look like?” You questioned.

“Golden.” The guard answered.

“Aegon...” Darren whispered hopefully. You sighed deeply palming your forehead.

“You stay here, I’ll retrieve him.” You sighed standing up and leaving his chambers. You could hear the flapping of wings and the familiar screeches of Sunfyre above the city. Vermithor bellowed glancing up at the sky.

To your surprise Aegon was not the only person riding Sunfyre.

“Nymor.” You stated a bit on edge “What are you doing here? Aegon Sunfyre is too small to saddle two people.”

The two boys jumped from the dragon and your son jumped into your arms, Aegon following.

“We heard that Darren is sick, mother. I had to see my brother.” Nymor answered a bit harshly, which was unusual for him.

“He is fine now, and you Aegon?”

“Darren is my friend.” He murmured avoiding your stern gaze.

You sighed deeply. “Very well. Come along now."

You stood in the doorway watching your sons reunite. Nymor flung himself on Darren's bed, round cheeks stained with tears. Aegon on the other hand stood next to the bed, his hands awkwardly put behind his back.

"Derran!" Nymor cried, his elder brother chuckled and caressed his curly silver locks.

"Im alright, brother." He mused "Aegon, I-... It's good so see you." He awkwardly stated.

You raised your eyebrow in surprise. They never acted like this, they were comfortable in each other's presences, often skipping lessons together or being up to no good. You had to question them about this later.

"Yes..." Aegon muttered back, slightly sheepish.

"Mummy how could you not take me with you!" Nymor complained, freeing himself from his brothers embrace.

"I did what I thought was best. What if you have fallen ill? What would I do with two sick sons." You slightly teased.

"But he wasn't sick, was he?" Aegon questioned, you sighed deeply approaching Darren's bed.

"No, he was not."

<-previous , next->

Taglist:

@nessjo

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #viserys targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #Daemon Targaryen x reader

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rileyslibrary · 2 years ago

Text

The hot seat.

Synopsis: You decide to attend a speed dating event in the city where you're deployed. Simon “Ghost” Riley, your lieutenant, is also there.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,595

Notes:

I got this idea after a friend told me she matched with one of her colleagues on Tinder.

Fluff.

Want more?

———————————————————————

“Why don’t you just give it a try?” One of your friends suggested, “It’s not like you’ll be committing to anything.”

And when you told them there are other ways to meet new people, such as dating apps, they laughed so hard that you felt offended. “You don’t trust your own shadow,” one of them said, “how could you possibly trust a couple of pictures and a few messages before meeting a stranger?”

They were right; not only had it been months since your last date, but your trust issues weren’t helping. So you listened to your friends and decided to give it a shot. This could be your opportunity to get “back on the horse.”

They wanted to come to your house a few hours before to advise you on what to wear—it seems like it wasn’t just you who had trust issues. “You have a thing with self-sabotage,” one of them admitted, “and we don’t want you to portray yourself as less than who you really are.” A bolt claim from Jessica, the master of self-sabotage, who kept bailing her partner out of jail because he was constantly breaking into people’s houses.

You politely declined, promising to do your best. You chose a little black dress, opaque tights, and black heels. You let your hair down for once, since the army wouldn’t let you, and applied some make-up—but not too much—to enhance your features.

The speed dating event is held in a trendy downtown bar. The room is crammed with small tables, each with two chairs facing each other. You take a deep breath and walk over to the registration desk. You sign up, fill out a form with your information, and they hand you a name tag.

“This Is What You Came For” plays over the speakers, and you can’t help but wonder what made the DJ choose that song. What did I come here for, Rihanna? You think to yourself. To tell a stranger in three minutes about my food preferences and favourite colour? Is that what will ensure compatibility?

Your nerves start to kick in, so you rush to the bar. Your options are limited to beer or wine, according to the bartender. When you ask why, he starts narrating the horrors he’s seen of people attempting to calm their nerves with shots before the speed date. You choose wine and turn to face the people you’re about to meet in three-minute rounds. A few catch your eye; some look intimidated, while others appear overconfident and exuberant. “Peacocks”, as you call them.

The event organiser announces the beginning of the event, and you make your way to your assigned table. Dread grips you. What if you don’t meet anyone interesting? What if everyone you talk to is dull or uninteresting? You take a seat and wait for the event to start.

The first guy who sits down is a health freak, to put it mildly. He gets up at 4 a.m., lifts “hard” for two hours, goes to work, and waits until his next workout at around 6 p.m. He says he likes chicken because of its high protein content and asks what your favourite food is, to which you respond, “Haribos,” to piss him off.

The next one is a cryptocurrency investor. Enough said.

The third guy is a motivational speaker. You’re unsure about the “motivational” part, but he’s undeniably a “speaker.” He doesn’t. Stop. Talking. He only asks for your name, which you don’t have to say because it’s written on your tag. He then starts mumbling about books he’s read and the importance of a proper and consistent morning routine. He and Mr Health Freak could have easily become soul mates, you think to yourself.

Three minutes pass like hours, and you lower your head to the table. This was a mistake. Coming here was, as you suspected, a bad idea.

“I see you’ve already given up.” The man in front of you comments with a smile.

You look up and meet his gaze. He is tall and well-built, with short blonde hair and dark brown eyes. But it’s his sleeve tattoo that draws your attention.

It’s familiar to you. You’ve seen it before, peeking through a military uniform and tactical gloves.

Simon “Ghost” Riley.

You’d never seen him without his mask, but his build, voice, and tattoos are distinct. Your heart is racing as you struggle to remain calm. He, too, appears surprised. Did he not recognise you at first because of your make-up and hair?

Well, it seems like he recognises you now. But you’re not supposed to acknowledge his true identity; doing so might destroy everything he’s worked so hard to keep hidden all these years. It may also jeopardise your professional relationship.

But, my God, he’s hot. He’s exactly as you imagined him, if not better. It’d be best to act as cool as possible. Ignorant, stupid, call it whatever you want—just don’t reveal his identity. There are tens of thousands of people named Simon, and you are not supposed to give your surname to the other person here. So all you know about him is his name. He could be any of the other “Simons” out there.

You immediately put on a happy-go-lucky face and smile, trying to muster the courage to date your lieutenant for three minutes.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you reply, trying to play it cool.

He fidgets in his seat, still feeling uneasy. You need to act quickly.

“Yes, I’m about to give up,” you moan and pout, “so please, for the love of God, be a decent one.”

He lets out an awkward chuckle. “I’m not sure about that,” he says.

“Oh, really?” You exclaim, raising your eyebrows, “Unless you speak nonchalantly about yourself, chuck twelve egg yolks in the morning, or boast about imaginary coins, you’re good.”

“Ah,” he says hesitantly, “no, I prefer my eggs cooked.”

“Boiled, scrambled, or sunny side up?”

“I don’t mind as long as they’re cooked properly.” He responds, and you raise your fist to your mouth.

“I assume no runny egg whites?” You ask, making a disgusted face.

“Christ, no.” He smiles and shakes his head.

He appears more at ease now, thinking you haven’t identified him.

But then another problem arises. When dating, one of the first questions you usually ask is about the other person’s occupation.

“So, Simon,” you say, “what do you do for a living?”

“I, um, work as an operator,” he replies. “And you?”

That was a wise move on his part. He knows you’ll relate if he discloses his primary occupation, and you’ll start speculating. So he decided to reveal his side job. Although he is not completely honest with you, which could be interpreted as a red flag, there is a serious reason behind his answer.

“I’m a sergeant in the military,” you admit.

He nods and smirks but doesn’t ask a follow-up question.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m not very good at this.”

“Neither am I,” you chuckle, “but I can help you.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“Do you prefer cats or dogs, Simon?”

“I like both,” he says, “I can’t have a preference for animals; they aren’t eggs.”

“Phew!” You exclaim, theatrically placing the back of your hand on your forehead, “most of the men I met today hate cats!”

“Yeah,” Simon agrees. “I believe it’s because they don’t have control over them like dogs.”

“I feel bad for most of the women in here,” you say, looking around, “for settling for such controlling personalities.”

“How do you know I’m not controlling?” He asks, his brow furrowed.

“Men whose job is to order soldiers around, tend to live a more chilled lifestyle.” You elaborate.

“Order soldiers?” He asks, and you immediately stiffen up. “How do you know I order soldiers at my work?”

“I, um, assume you do because of your profession.” You stutter and look down at your lap.

“I said I’m an operator,” he smirks, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, “but I never said what kind of operator I am.”

Your chair has turned into a hot seat all of a sudden.

“From what you know, I could be a heavy machinery operator.” He adds, his smile widening.

You blush and turn to look at the clock; time’s almost up.

He leans forward to the table. “Why such eagerness to end our date, sergeant?” he whispers, “I thought we were doing so well.”

You raise your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, Lt.,” you admit, “I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I appreciate that,” he says, “but knowing that you know who I am is already uncomfortable, don’t you think?”

You look down again, and he continues.

“Perhaps it would have been better to acknowledge the elephant in the room from the beginning.” He explains.

You let out a sigh. “You’re right,” you say, “I should have been more honest.”

He nods, and the bell rings for your next date. Simon gets up from his chair and smiles at you.

“Normally, I’d end this with a nice to meet you,” he says, “but in this case, it’s more of a nice getting to know you better,” he adds, extending his hand for a handshake.

You stand up and take his hand in yours. “Likewise, Lt.,” you say, smiling.

“See you tomorrow,” he says.

“For another date?” You joke, “You move too fast, Simon.”

“For the best military drill of your life,” he corrects you with a smirk, “for thinking you could fool me so easily.”

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

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queenshelby · 1 year ago

Text

Daddy Issues (Part Two)

Pairing: Dominant!Cillian Murphy & Shy!Reader (& Jamie Dornan)

Warning: Smut, BDSM, Daddy Kink, 4-Somes, 3-Somes, Sugar Baby Arrangements

Summary: Through your best friend, you meet actor Cillian Murphy and come to some kind of arrangement involving intimacy in exchange for being spoiled financially.

Written with: my beautiful wife @darkshelbyfiction

Several days later...

Several days later and Emma had organised dinner at a famous Japanese restaurant with both Jamie and Cillian Murphy attending and you were unsure what to wear as, again, your sense of self-consciousness and lack of self-esteem began gnawing away at you. Should you dress provocatively to catch his eye or opt for something demure to blend in with the crowd? Your indecision mirrored your uncertainty regarding the evening ahead.

Luckily for you, Emma had brought some clothes with her, knowing that you did not own anything other than a few pairs of jeans and shirts.

"How about this one?" she asked, pulling out a velvety red dress that Jamie had bought for her recently.

"It's, uhm, red?" you stammered, your cheeks turning crimson due to the daring choice of attire.

"Okay, let's go with something more boring," Emma teased before pulling out a black skirt and a simple, but pretty, white silk shirt instead. You hesitated briefly, worrying whether your ordinary appearance might be too boring after all for a man who you knew could have every woman he wanted.

"It will look good, but don't wear a bra with it," Emma suggested, smirking playfully. "Jamie loves seeing my nipples through the fabric and no doubt Cillian will feel the same about yours." With resignation, you followed her advice.

"What even makes you think that he would like me? He was married to this actress, Annabelle Wallis, for a few years and before that, he was married to this designer named Grace. They both are stunning and I am merely average," you thought out loud sadly. Surely, he wouldn't want an ordinary girl like me? Your insecurities started eating you alive, causing your palms to sweat profusely underneath your delicate hands.

"You are gorgeous and if you were just slightly gay, then we wouldn't just be friends babe", Emma consoled. "We all face our insecurities differently but trust me, he won't reject you once he sees you". Her voice was soft and tender, kindling your faith in yourself. She guided you through various ways to enhance your body language, facial expressions, vocal inflections. Every piece of advice was designed to bring forth your inner charm. You watched her carefully, taking notes mentally.

When she finished teaching you, she smiled encouragingly and whispered, "Remember, embrace your flaws. Trust me, you'd surprise yourself," adding, "And do try to relax tonight."

You nodded appreciatively, attempting to breathe deeply and calm your racing pulse. Emphasizing her point further, Emma added, "Trust me, once you start getting comfortable, it'll be easier to let loose and unwind."

Your brow furrowed in confusion, wondering how exactly one goes about becoming 'comfortable'. Nonetheless, you took Emma's words to heart, hoping to channel her strength in times of discomfort.

An hour later...

As you entered the luxurious London eatery, filled with the hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and attentive staff whisking around effortlessly in their pristine uniforms, you couldn't help feeling intimidated by the sophistication surrounding you.

Your best friend Emma was right by your side as you were shown to a well-appointed but secluded table, which is where Jamie and Cillian were already waiting for you.

As soon as you arrived, Jamie whispered something into Cillian's ear causing him to glance into your direction, his piercing blue eyes fixing upon yours briefly before looking away again. It seemed there might be some underlying chemistry here after all - if only momentarily.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, you introduced yourself to Cillian warmly.

"I am Y/N," you started, "it's nice to meet you." Your voice came out more breathless than usual due to nerves, though it didn't seem to affect your confidence too drastically.

In response, Cillian offered a broad smile. "Likewise, Y/N", he said softly. His Irish accent added an extra layer of charm that made him even more appealing, albeit slightly disconcerting.

"So, you are Emma's friend? And she tells me that you study law together?" Cillian said politely, breaking the awkward initial silence while sipping from his wine glass. His demeanor appeared relaxed yet focused, showing a genuine interest in what you had to say.

"Yes, we've known each other since we were kids actually!" You advised casually while waiting for the waitress to pour you a glass of wine as well. The mention of childhood memories caused a subtle change in the atmosphere.

"Y/N is an honor student, top of her class," bragged Emma proudly before Jamie pulled a joke. "And Cillian here dropped out of law school after failing two of his exams," he said teasingly. All three shared a laugh over this small bit of banter, easing the initial nervousness in the air.

"What made you go to law school?" you eventually ought to enquire, seeing that everyone was now at ease and at least somewhat comfortable with each other.

"My parents," Cillian chuckled before telling you some more about his upbringing, and you did the same.

With that, conversations moved from topic to topic for two hours while you all enjoyed some Japanese food. The topics discussed were ranging from film projects they worked on, dating stories, to politics. But underneath it all lingered an unspoken tension.

As time went on, Cillian's attention shifted toward you, glances growing longer and more frequent. Emma noticed this too, shooting looks back at you with mischievous intent while you became rather quiet and nervous, which was something Cillian picked up immediately.

"So, tell me Y/N," he interrupted, attempting to start another conversation. "What do you want to achieve in life? What are your ambitions?" There was an undertone of curiosity in his question as it became clear to you that him and Jamie had been talking about you.

Feeling somewhat uneasy about this revelation, you answered confidently, telling him about your aspirations to become a successful lawyer someday, contributing positively to society through justice reform and empowerment.

Emma chimed in excitedly, adding how determined you are when pursuing your goals. "She doesn't give up easily – I know because sometimes we compete against each other for better grades. I don't usually stand a chance though because she is a nerd!".

Cillian chuckled appreciatively. "Well, then I have no doubt that you can reach those dreams one day," he remarked thoughtfully and with a warm smile just as the waitress came to take your order for dessert.

While you waited for your desserts to arrive, Jamie suggested that you could all enjoy some drinks at his apartment afterwards instead of going out to a bar and, both, Cillian and Emma agreed instantly, eager to spend more quality time with each other.

You, too, reluctantly agreed, knowing that spending more time with them privately would potentially increase your chances of getting to know Cillian a bit better while, at the same time, you were a little nervous about what else the night could bring.

***

Shortly after dinner, you all left the restaurant. Jamie led the way, expertly navigating through crowds. As you walked, you could feel the excitement building within, not just because of the unknown that lay ahead, but also the undeniable magnetic pull that emanated from Cillian. He carried himself with such poise, drawing people in without even trying.

Once inside Jamiee's luxury apartment, the four of you found yourselves drawn to the living room area. After catching up on general topics like recent films and news and drinking a decent amount of wine, Jamie proposed playing a game called 'truth or dare', which was something you had not played since high school.

"Seriously? Aren't we a bit old for that?" Emma laughed, teasing Jamie who, by this point, had shown some more intimate affection towards Emma.

"No. In fact, it becomes more fun the older you get," Jamie pointed out with a wink while Emma simply rolled her eyes.

This was designed to break the ice further and get everyone comfortable enough to share personal information. Taking turns, each person had to answer either a truthful statement or perform a dare and, whilst everyone was familiar to the rules, the idea of playing this game with a group of adults like this made you nervous, knowing very well where this could lead.

Naturally, Emma volunteered first and selected 'truth' and it was Jamie who asked the question, "What's your most embarrassing memory involving Y/N?" He laughed good-humoredly.

Her face turned red as she hesitated, clearly struggling to think of something, finally saying: "It involves us meeting up late one night, running across campus half naked and high on weed. Neither of us had smoked it before and we ended up sleeping in between the hedges. It was rather embarrassing when Y/N's idiot of an ex-boyfriend found us the next morning and made a scene," Emma told the crowd and everybody laughed heartily, sharing their own similar experiences. This set a casual tone that eased anxieties among the group.

Turning towards Cillian, he opted for 'dare'.

Being Emma's turn, she challenged him thusly: "Go onto the balcony and strip," she giggled.

"All the way?" he asked, and she gave him a lifeline. "No. It's too early for that. Just down to your briefs. Anything more would be inappropriate," she chuckled, and Cillian obliged readily, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind about his attractiveness.

"You aren't actually going to do this, right?" you asked as he walked towards the balcony and his brows furrowed.

"Why not? No one will see me. We are on the 28th floor!" Cillian laughed and, upon returning, Cillian took a seat near you, displaying raw power and magnetism as he crossed his legs, but put his t-shirt back on, leaving him comfortable in black Calvin-Klein briefs and a black t-shirt.

Now, it was your turn. Under pressure, you chose 'truth', and Emma decided to ask you a question.

She wanted to know, "Who's your celebrity crush?" and you immediately gasped. Without missing a beat, you blushed and looked at Cillian and murmured his name.

The others burst into loud guffaws and cheers, Jamie playfully punching Cillian's arm as he congratulated him on his appeal while your cheeks turned red.

"Are you just saying this because I am sitting right next to you?" Cillian laughed and you nervously shook your head.

"No. I mean, I think you are, uhm, really...uhm...," you stammered, and, despite your obvious discomfort, you found yourself unable to look away from Cillian.

Cillian raised his eyebrows in response of your unfinished statement and Emma intervened, saying "she thinks that you are hot, Cillian!"

"That's good to know," Cillian winked in response and his bold moves had captured your full attention now. Your aroused state heightened significantly, and you suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely attracted to his intensity.

At long last, you reached another turn. Swallowing hard, you stood up and announced solemnly, "I choose dare." Everyone's gaze fell on you expectantly as Emma spoke up and dared you to kiss someone of your choosing.

You swallowed harshly, acutely aware of the sudden heat in your cheeks and, since you were afraid to choose anyone else, you chose Emma.

Everybody watched closely as you moved towards her slowly, closing the gap between you two. Feeling the fire igniting deep within, you pressed your lips tenderly against hers, teasingly at first, then passionately, pulling her closer to you. Her hands slid down your sides, touching your waist, and caressing your curves until they rested on your ass.

"Fuck, that I did not expect," Jamie gasped, seeing that, contrary to Emma, he knew very well that you were usually rather prude while Cillian simply smiled enigmatically.

"Is that okay?" Emma then asked as, eventually, her hands slid under your shirt, cupping your breasts.

"Yes, I think so," you said nervously before Emma slowly pulled off your top. Your nipples grew hard, becoming erect in the cool air conditioning of the apartment.

"It is your turn Cillian. Truth or dare?" Emma then asked huskily as she sat close to you, running her fingers along your neck seductively. Her breath tickling your earlobe.

Your eyes widened, unsure if you should proceed. However, feeling emboldened by the alcohol, you chose to go along with it as Cillian said "dare" with a low and husky voice, unable to look away from your naked chest.

"Dare, huh?" Emma teased while walking over towards him seductively and reaching for his hand, thereby pulling him off his chair.

"Come over here and touch her, just above her thigh," commanded Emma in a low seductive voice while guiding Cillian over towards you.

Your heart raced as Cillian followed her lead, moving steadily towards where you were sitting.

He then kneeled before you and placed his large, strong hands softly on your inner thighs, causing a surge of desire to course through your veins while Emma positioned herself next to you again.

"Is that alright?" Cillian asked politely, seeking consent, as the atmosphere in the room intensified dramatically, every eye fixed on the unfolding scenario.

"Yes, that feels nice," you whispered softly, allowing his massive hands to slide higher up your leg, beneath your skirt, brushing against your sensitive skin and sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The scent of Cillian's cologne filled your nostrils, reminding you of his presence.

Meanwhile, Jamie observed the situation with interest, sipping his wine slowly. Emma continued to sit beside you, rubbing your shoulders suggestively.

"Just a little higher, Cill..." Emma encouraged Cillian, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

As he carefully pushed aside your skirt, exposing your lace panties, you couldn't help but tremble slightly in anticipation.

"You are really wet already, Y/n," he commented almost matter-of-factly. Despite the alcohol, it was clear that you weren't simply imagining it; your moistness revealed an unspoken attraction toward him. It was intense and you desperately wanted him to touch your core.

Answering your prayers, Cillian brushed his fingers tentatively over the soaking fabric of your thong, his touch eliciting an involuntary gasp from you as the sensation sent a ripple of electricity throughout your entire frame.

Emma let out a pleased hum at the sight of you squirming underneath his touch. Meanwhile, Jamie was watching intently, his eyes glinting with a mixture of intrigue and amusement before urging Cillian on.

"It's Emma's turn and I know she will choose dare, so tell her what to do Cillian," he chuckled mischievously.

Cillian narrowed his eyes at Jamie, then directed his attention towards Emma, a cocky grin forming on his face.

"I dare you to remove your clothes," he taunted, staring deeply into her eyes.

Emma paused briefly, contemplating whether to accept the challenge or not. But ultimately, her rebellious nature won out as she confidently replied, "Alright" before beginning to strip in front of them all. Starting from her shoes, she removed each piece of clothing methodically, showcasing her voluptuous body and accentuating her feminine curves.

With each garment discarded, the room became increasingly charged with lust and desire, filling everyone with growing anticipation. Once naked, she strutted towards Jamie, giving you and Cillian some space as, still, he drew circles over your panties.

"Well, looks like we don't need any more dares," Jamie then noted, removing his clothes also and, finally, showering Emma with some rough but passionate attention.

Their bodies intertwined with one another effortlessly, drawing gasps from the audience around them. Your face flushed hotly at the sight, as you could feel a growing sense of arousal inside you.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?" Cillian asked as he moved even closer to you, ensuring you wouldn't miss a single bit of his commanding demeanor.

"No...I mean...yes...," you stammered nervously, causing Cillian to cock his eyebrows again. "I mean, yes, please kiss me," you clarified, your words barely a whisper as you allowed him to move closer.

As his warm breath grazed past your mouth, he closed the distance between you both. Your lips met ever so gently, your connection seemingly electrical. Your hearts raced together as his tongue danced with yours, delving deeper and deeper into your mouth.

"Look how hard you make him," Emma drawled, her tone dripping with seduction as she watched your reactions to Cillian who was now moving his lips from your mouth to your neck and then all the way down to your naked breasts. His erection was evidentially straining against his Calvin Klein briefs but you did not dare to look at his crotch.

Each touch made your breath catch in your throat, the warmth of his tongue tracing shapes across your skin sending shockwaves through your system. You arched your back instinctively, inviting more of his ministrations.

To help you along, Emma and Jamie had moved themselves to a spot behind you and her arms encircled around your torso tightly.

"Spread your legs for him, baby," suggested Emma while pressing herself firmly against your lower back, making sure not to lose contact with you.

Her demand spurred you on, and you obliged without hesitation, spreading your legs wide apart for Cillian who did not hesitate to finally take off your panties completely. Now fully exposed, your most private area lay bared right there in front of him and Emma said "doesn't she have a pretty little pussy?" while looking directly at you. Your face flushed crimson as embarrassment washed over you, but yet, there was something rather arousing about the way she spoke.

"Yes, her pussy looks absolutely divine!" Cillian remarked as he admired your entrance while probing it gently. It wasn't difficult to see why he found such fascination in your body – your cleft lips parted to form a small opening that invited further investigation.

"Put your finger inside her and see how tight she is," ordered Emma, her own voice having become hoarse due to her earlier activities with Jamie. And without missing a beat, Cillian complied eagerly, gently inserting his index finger into your tight entrance, stroking your walls gingerly. It didn't take much persuasion for you to oblige.

"She is very tight indeed," he groaned as you looked back at him hungrily and moaned.

"And look how fucking wet she is too," Cillian observed before withdrawing his finger from your cleft and bringing it up to Emma's mouth, offering it for her to taste. With a hint of playful mischief, she took his offered digit into her mouth, sucking it clean before returning it to its original position between your legs, stimulating you further with her expert technique.

Jamie joined in, taking hold of your hand and placing it upon his own bulging member, instructing you to stroke him with long, leisurely movements. His manhood twitched in response, causing a sharp flutter within your belly.

"Let me get my tongue between those beautiful lips, sweetheart." Cillian murmured, captivated by your allure. Your whole body thrummed with anticipation as he knelt down again, preparing himself to carry out his request.

"Oh god please," you moaned suddenly as his mouth fastened onto your swollen labia, first tenderly caressing it with gentle bites and licks, then fiercely thrusting his tongue deep into your core. Every time he penetrated you with his tongue, a wave of ecstatic delight swept through your limbs, making you quiver with joy.

At the same time, you stroked Jamie's erect length, reveling in the feeling of his thick, velvety member sliding through your palms. It was an incredible sensory experience you would remember forever.

"Oh god Cillian! This feels so good…" you gasped, unable to contain yourself as a sudden surge of pleasure flooded your entire body. Both men noticed the intensity of your reaction, their eyes burning with the desire they saw reflected in yours and even Emma let out a moan as she watched the scene unfold.

"Fuck, you taste amazing," praised Cillian appreciatively, savoring the flavors on his tongue after sampling you thoroughly.

As you gazed at Cillian, mesmerized by his dominance, he swiftly stood up and undressed, the sight of which made you let go off Jamie's cock and stare at Cillian's erection instead. His impressive size only added fuel to your desires and Emma smiled wickedly seeing you ogling at Cillian’s package.

"You should taste him. He tastes fantastic!" Emma urged excitedly, prompting you to place your lips around Cillian's rigid length and start sucking greedily.

"Would you like me to?" you asked Cillian nervously, unsure yet enticed by the idea.

"Only if you want to," Cillian said as he gave you a seductive smile.

"I do," you confirmed nervously while, with steady hands, you placed your lips gently over the tip of his erection, allowing just enough air to flow in to create a ticklish sensation. At the same time, Emma began working her magic once more, engaging in an erotic dance with Jamie, teasing him with close encounters and slow caresses. Their passionate interactions intensified, heightening the already charged atmosphere.

"That feels good. Keep going," Cillian urged as you continued sucking him vigorously, taking him as far into your mouth as possible. The sounds of the others lost all meaning as you focused solely on pleasuring Cillian, ignoring the fact that Jamie was taking Emma roughly from behind, right over the back of the couch.

Her moans echoed loudly, signaling her unadulterated enjoyment, despite the precariousness of their positions. The soundtrack playing in the background seemed almost obscene compared to what unfolded before their very eyes.

Cillian's strong hands held your head, guiding you deeper onto his erection gently as you sucked him with increased fervor. With every passing moment, his moans grew louder, betraying his rising excitement. But then, he pulled away abruptly and reached for the packet of condoms which Jamie had conveniently placed on the sofa.

"Do you want me to?" Cillian asked, wanting confirmation before proceeding further. You quickly nodded your assent, desperate to give him whatever he desired.

"Alright, then bend over and face your gorgeous friend," commanded Cillian sternly, demonstrating a level of control few could match. Without delay, you immediately obeyed, turning toward Emma and presenting your round bottom for Cillian to ravage.

As you adjusted your posture accordingly, you caught Emma smirking knowingly at you, evidently proud of your submissiveness while Cillian carefully removed a condom from the pack Jamie provided before rolling it onto his engorged member.

Then, Cillian approached you slowly, letting you savor the impending moment before he entered you.

Positioning himself between your thighs, he rubbed his swollen manhood against your slick folds teasingly, creating a tantalizing friction that left you craving even more. When he felt ready, he applied pressure, angling his hips slightly, allowing his massive length to ease effortlessly into your warm embrace. As his bulk stretched your entrance, you couldn't help but cry out in surprise. Despite the initial discomfort, it served only to excite you even more knowing that you had taken something so large and imposing inside you.

"Fuck you are tight," Cillian exclaimed, his voice filled with raw hunger. His forceful rhythm matched perfectly with your increasing ardor. You threw your head back in a display of utter surrender, your nipples growing harder with each thrust. Meanwhile, Jamie continued to take advantage of Emma's body with reckless abandon.

Emma grunted with satisfaction, mirroring your wild expressions of bliss. Her high pitched whimpers were music to your ears, driving you to push Cillian faster.

"Just last week, Emma had Cillian's cock in her ass. Did you know that?" Jamie groaned, watching you enjoy his friend's hardness with ravenous enthusiasm. "Oh god, you're so fucking hot like this, Em" he then groaned, holding Emma's waist as he drove into her.

In response, Emma smiled wickedly, her breath coming heavily. "Absolutely, I love being taken and it looks like Y/N enjoys it as well. Just look at her, moaning and squirming while your friend fucks her," Emma commented, her voice dripping with approval. "Oh, God yes. I do. Fuck, please don't stop!" you cried out, driven mad by the pleasure coursing through your veins. Your skin was damp with perspiration, and you could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building in your core.

As your body trembled with the approach of release, Emma reached forward and stroked your face before placing her lips on to yours, causing you to moan into her mouth.

"Fuck, you two are amazing together," Cillian muttered in admiration, looking at you while his pace quickened, pounding into you relentlessly.

The sensations he created were unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Every nerve ending seemed alive and awake, screaming for more. All of you shared glances of pride and acknowledgement, your eyes meeting briefly before drifting back to focus on the spectacle happening before you. The room itself became hazy with heat, steam from bodies filling the space as everyone indulged in each other's company.

"Do you like this?" Emma whispered softly into your ear, her breath stirring your hair gently.

“Yes. Oh god yes," you replied eagerly, losing track of time completely while Cillian's fingers found your sensitive spots, brushing them tenderly until you begged for more.

"Please, Cillian," you entreated, your voice hoarse from desire. "Keep doing that!" You felt consumed by waves of euphoria crashing one after another, leaving you delirious with pleasure. Each touch of his talented digits sent shockwaves across your body, causing you to lose any sense of reason until, eventually, you could not hold it any longer.

Overwhelmed by the powerful rush of sensations, you climaxed with such intensity that your legs shook, your eyes rolled back in your head, and involuntary gasps escaped your throat.

"Yes, oh god yes," you repeated endlessly, barely aware of what you said anymore. Your whole world narrowed down to the feelings that coursed through your body, nothing else mattering except the pleasure that wracked your frame. And when you finally came down from the edge, you opened your eyes again and heard Emma say "don't waste your cum, Cillian! Pull out of her and let us have a taste!"

Cillian though hesitated for a brief moment, considering whether to comply with her request. Then, he looked directly into your eyes, making sure you were okay with that and, after receiving a confident nod from you, he pulled out.

"Cum in my mouth and I make sure to share with Em," you said, surprised by your own confidence as, quickly, you dropped to your knees to catch his seed in your mouth.

Without hesitation, Cillian obliged, directing the head of his cock to your open mouth while stroking himself to climax.

His cum splattered everywhere as you accepted every drop hungrily, opening wide and using your tongue to clean up any droplets that missed its target. You held his seed in your mouth and, while doing this, you met Emma's expectant gaze.

Leaning towards her, you kissed her lips chastely and allowed Cillian's cum to flow onto her tongue. Smiling triumphantly, she took it eagerly, ensuring there wasn't a single drop left to waste.

"Fuck that's hot," Jamie mumbled, appreciatively watching from nearby while Cillian simply let out a low groan. This kind of intimate interaction clearly got him excited beyond belief and the sight of you sharing his cum with your friend made him hard all over again.

You, on the other hand, started to feel a bit tired now, still high off your recent orgasm, but also curious as to how your body would react to yet another encounter and, as if he was reading your mind, Cillian offered to take this to the guestroom.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #jamie dornan

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ineffablywriting · 2 years ago

Text

to love someone

Summary: an angsty one shot of one too many broken promises that leads to a broken heart or two

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings: angst, angst and more angst

Harry grinned to himself as he stepped out of the recording booth.

“That’s the one,” he told Jeff, his heart racing with adrenaline at the prospect of a finished album. “I swear, this one’s the Grammy winner, Jeff,” he sighed, collapsing onto the sofa beside his manager.

He’d rung Jeff and got his team together a couple hours ago when he’d been unable to get a melody out of his mind. He’d quickly scribbled together some lyrics on a scrap piece of paper he’d found lying around his apartment and rushed to the studio he had on retainer and worked nonstop for the last three hours getting the song together. And it was perfect - not to toot his own horn.

“You just might be right on that one, H,” Jeff’s smile was almost as wide as Harry’s as they congratulated each other. “We need to celebrate properly,” he pulled out his phone and started to text people. “I’m thinking a party to commemorate the day our very own Harry Styles finished his second album.”

“An award winning album,” Harry joked, closing his eyes and lounging back in his seat with his hands behind his head.

It felt like a weight had lifted off his chest. He’d been stuck in the worst sort of writer's block for the last couple of weeks, unable to even step foot inside a studio or pick up a pen. It had made him almost unbearable to be around. But now it was done and Harry could breathe again.

He let a small smile perk up his lips as basked in the peacefulness that only a completed song - a perfect song - could bring him.

He doesn’t know how long he stayed like that before the doors opened again. He sat up, a smile still fixed firmly on his face, expecting Jeff to walk through the doors. When he saw Nick’s gangly figure walking in instead his smile grew even bigger.

“Grimmy, I did it!” he called out, standing up to give him a hug.

“Finally finished the album, huh?” he lifted a fond brow, giving Harry an equally fierce and excited hug.

“Yup,” he puffed out his chest proudly.

“Congrats, Haz,” Nick patted him on the shoulder, glancing around the room searching for someone.

“Jeff’s in another room organising a party,” Harry explained, letting himself fall back into the lounge.

But Nick shook his head. “I’m looking for your better half,” he turned back to Harry curiously. “I thought for sure she’d be here with you, being disgustingly cute as always,” he joked.

Harry’s face fell instantly. “Fuck.”

“What?” Nick frowned at him, watching the colour drain from Harry’s face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cursed, scrambling around and looking for his phone. He’d switched it off and thrown it to the side as soon as he’d entered the studio not wanting to get distracted by anything. “I fucked up,” he looked up at Nick in a panic while his phone rebooted. “What time is it?”

“What did you do?” Nick asked, the smile dropping from his own lips as he looked down at his watch and answered. “Just after 10pm.”

“Can you please call her for me?” he asked, getting frustrated at how long it was taking for his phone to switch back on.

“Call her? Isn’t she here with you?”

“I wouldn’t be so fucking stressed if she was, would I?” he glared at Nick, finally able to unlock his phone and open up y/n’s contact information and hit call.

“You didn’t pick her up?” Nick asked, disapproval rich in his voice.

“I forgot!” Harry pulled the phone away from her ear and redialled her number again. “She’s not answering,” he frowned worriedly.

“You forgot.” Nick stated, unsure what else to say. “How could you forget?”

“I don’t know! I was so focused on finishing this album. I haven’t been able to write anything for weeks, you know this. It was only going to be a quick stop and then I was gonna leave and head straight to the hospital. Fuck. She’s still not picking up,” he looked at his phone worriedly, scrolling through all the missed texts he hadn't read and all the calls that had gone straight to voicemail because he’d had his phone off. “What do I do?”

Nick didn’t know what to say. He felt for his friend but he also knew that he deserved to feel this bad for leaving y/n waiting for him so long in the dark.

“Can you call her?” Harry asked him, his green eyes wide with worry. “She might answer you,” he pleaded and Nick didn’t have it in him to deny the request. Besides, he was just as worried for her at that moment. The hospital she worked at wasn’t exactly in the safest part of town and y/n always hated finishing after dark.

She answered him after a few rings and he let out a relieved breath until he heard her hiccup on the other end of the line. “Babe?” he asked quietly, voice soft over the phone. “You ok?”

“N-no,” she told him, honestly. “Not really.”

Nick took a step away from Harry when he reached for the phone, trying to take it off him and speak to his girl. He’d obviously heard her voice on the other end of the line and hadn’t liked what he’d listened in on. He followed Nick. “Gimme the phone, Grimmy,” he hissed, once again trying to reach for the mobile device. His worry was growing with every second he spent not in contact with y/n.

Piss off, Nick mouthed at Harry and moved further away.

But Harry continued to follow. How could he not? He could clearly hear his girl crying on the phone and he knew it was all his fault.

“Hey, love,” Nick said to her softly, rolling his eyes at Harry. “Harold wants to talk to you.”

“No,” he voice was firm this time, losing the hiccups and stuttering but not the sadness. “I don’t want to talk to him right now. I don’t think I’ll want to talk to him for a long time.”

“Y/n…,” Nick began, turning away from Harry when he saw his friend flinch and lowered his voice as he once again tried to move away. This time Harry kept his distance. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” she said firmly. “I mean it very much.”

“Y/n, are you drunk?” Nick asked suddenly as she hiccuped again, this time a slight slur to her words.

“Nooooo,” she extended the word and that was all the confirmation he needed.

“Y/n, where are you?” He asked suddenly, hoping she’d say she was at home in the apartment she and Harry shared.

“Dunno,” she said instead, no real worry in her words.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Nick asked her a little more urgently, glancing over at Harry. He was frowning, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths the way it always did when he was worried or stressed.

“Give me the phone, Nick,” Harry spoke through his teeth, holding out a hand for the phone.

Wait, Nick mouthed at Harry knowing if he handed over the phone now, y/n would just hang up.

“Y/n,” he spoke gently down the phone, slowing his words into a soothing drawl. “You need to tell me where you are and who you’re with so I can come and get you, yeah?”

“No,” she said stubbornly, and now that Nick was listening carefully, he could hear cars driving by in the background and imagined she was stumbling around outside, drunk and alone. He knew Harry was thinking the same as his fists were curled up beside him and his cheeks had turned pink. He was angry now, but his eyes gave away his worry. “I don’t wanna go home. I don’t wanna see Ha-him.”

“Aww, come on, love. Don’t be like that,” Nick soothed, while Harry flinched back at y/n’s tone. She hadn’t even been able to say his name. “He got distracted finishing his album, he didn’t mean anything by it. I'm sure it won’t happen again.”

“‘At’s what he said last time,” she said, this time her voice soft and filled with hurt. “Last time and the time before and the time before that. He always forgets everything.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Nick replied, doubtfully looking over at Harry.

“It is true. Ask him. He’s there with you listening to everything. Ask him where he was on our second anniversary and his birthday dinner last year that I begged to take time off work for. Ask him where he was when I graduated and what he was doing when I asked him to come to my work’s Christmas party last year. He’s always late or doesn’t show up at all. I waited for him for an hour today before I gave up and Kiera invited me out for drinks,” she paused and took a deep breath, letting out a scoff before she spoke again. “I bet he doesn’t even know who that is. You know he never asks me about my day unless I ask him about his first. He doesn’t ask me anything about who I spent my time with or what I did that day. All he talks about is the song he wrote and how good or bad it was, about how Mitch and Sarah did something so talented I missed out on a magical moment, about how he’s going on tour soon and didn’t even ask me if I could come with him.”

“Harry?” Nick quizzed, looking over at his friend. “Tell me she’s exaggerating.”

But Harry shook his head. He hadn’t realised how far down his list of priorities y/n had fallen until he’d heard her drunk, broken voice over the phone. He’d stood her up on their anniversary that year, having had a long day of meetings with his management, he’d gone straight home and fallen asleep in his suit. He’d woken up to y/n walking into their bedroom, heels in her hands and a small, sad smile on her face. She’d stroked his head and asked him if he’d had a long day and he’d nodded, told her she looked nice and how he hoped she’d had a good time at whatever event she’d been at. Y/n’s smile had tightened and she’d just urged him to go back to sleep and get some rest. He hadn’t even realised it had been their anniversary until a few days later when Gemma had asked him what he’d gotten her.

He’d seen in her eyes how hurt she’d been when he’d finally given her a present, but it had been too late. He’d known it then and swore he’d never mess up so badly again.

But he had.

Over and over again.

She was right. He’d missed almost every single milestone in her life and she’d never missed a single one of his.

He’d been taking her for granted for so long, he’d just assumed she’d leave her job behind and come on tour with him indefinitely, even though he knew how hard she’d worked to get to where she was. He was so proud of her, and he didn’t think she even knew that, because she was right.

He’d shown up late to her graduation, hadn’t met any of her colleagues or attended any of her work events, even after she’d asked him over and over again - he’d always promised her next time, but next time never came and eventually she’d stopped asking. He didn’t even remember the last time he’d asked her about her life.

“Fuck,” he cursed, running his hands through his hair in distress. He was worried and guilty and all he wanted was for y/n to be next to him, her cute little smile on her face as they cuddled so closely they may as well have been glued together.

He grabbed the phone from Nick’s hands before he could move it away again, holding it close to his ear and dancing away from his friend as he spoke down the line. “I’m so, so sorry, Sweets,” he said gently. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He prayed she believed him.

There was no response on the other end of the line, just some heavy breathing and in his mind’s eye, Harry could just see his girl taking deep breaths to try and keep herself from crying, to try and keep herself calm. It was something she’d done from the very first time they’d had a fight and he’d seen her cry. He’d hated seeing it then and he hated hearing it even more now. Especially when he heard her sniffle quietly, as though she’d moved the phone away to try and hide her tears from him.

“Please don’t cry,” he begged her anyway when still no reply had come through, but Harry was hopeful that she hadn’t hung up the phone yet like she’d promised she would. “I hate it when you cry.” He didn’t mention how much worse it was when he was the reason she cried this way.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Ha-Harry,” she sighed. “Give the phone ba-back to Grimmy.”

“No,” he said firmly, clenching his teeth and pacing back and forth while his other hand brushed through his hair trying to shake out some of the tension in his limbs. “No,” he repeated more gently this time. “Please, just tell me where you are so I can come and get you?” I just want to make sure you’re safe, he thought to himself.

“Don’t wanna see you. Why can’t you just leave me alone when I want you to? You haven’t been around for weeks and now you want to pretend to care?” she asked him harshly.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut as his shoulders hunched inwards. He’d had his heart broken before, but never had it felt so painful before; as though he’d never be able to put himself back together again. “I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately. I know I’ve been forgetful and neglected you. I know. But please, Sweets, can we just talk face to face? Please, just - just let Grimmy pick you up.”

Y/n was silent on the other end of the line for a couple of heartbeats before she let out a choked sob. “You forgot me,” she murmured. “You didn’t answer any of my phone calls or texts. You didn’t even - sometimes it feels like you don’t love me anymore,” she admitted. “Sometimes it feels like you’re only with me because it’s easier than breaking up.”

“That’s not - no. Y/n, no. You can’t believe that. You can’t think that. You know - you have to know that’s not true,” Harry implored, stopping his pacing in the middle of the room. He looked completely lost, as though just the idea of not having y/n around made him question his place in the world.

“Please give the phone to Grimmy, Harry,” y/n finally said. “I’ll tell him where I am. I - I think I want to stay with him tonight. Please don’t come over,” she said. “I really don’t want to talk anymore tonight. I have a headache and I’m tired.”

Harry took in and let out a shaky breath, handing the phone back over to Nick. “Here,” he said, walking back over to the couch dejectedly and falling into it. It was a big contrast to the way he’d collapsed into it earlier with all the joy of a completed album sitting like a crown on his head. Now his whole world was falling apart in front of him.

He thought of the rings he’d been looking at. He thought of all the times he’d walked past a jewellery store and itched to walk out with an engagement ring. He thought of all their friends who were having kids and how the only person he could see himself having a family with was y/n. And he thought about how everything was being snatched out from under him because he’d been so selfish the last couple of months. How he’d been growing more and more selfish over the last year of their relationship.

He had to fix this.

He didn’t know how, but he would fix this.

“I’m gonna go get her,” Nick spoke softly, tapping Harry on the shoulder. “You should get home and get some rest too,” he told him.

“I’m going to fix this,” Harry said to Nick, desperation thick in his words.

“I know you will, mate. I know you will,” Nick ruffled his hair fondly and walked out the room, leaving Harry sitting dejectedly on the couch.

Hellooooo, please let me know what ya'll think. I would LOVE some feedback <3

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