#hollow x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cursedmoon-doll13 · 10 months

Text

If It Serves You.

(Headmaster!Severus Snape x Reader)

Cw: Non/Dubcon + Aftermath, Afab Reader, Dark-ish Snape, Unprotected Sex, Powerplay, Sex as Bargaining, Facefucking, Crying, Fingering, Creampie, Begging, Degradation (use of slut) and Praise, Reader calls Snape ‘Headmaster,’ Former Student Reader, Mentions of Torture/Child Abuse, Denial of Feelings.

READ WITH CAUTION

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: As a professor of Hogwarts, your past ambitions, your fragile hope and unrelenting diligence have all led to nothing. Now, you are powerless beneath the rising force of He Who Must Not Be Named and his army of Death Eaters. The only thing left you have to give is your pride; your weak and vulnerable body.

Or, you beg the new headmaster to show mercy to your students in exchange for sexual favours.

Dividers by @/saradika

Of course, there was no pressing need to check and recheck the potions’ storage. Certainly no need to catalogue it twice. You did almost it out of instinct, or force of habit. Yes, It’s healthy to maintain a routine, including routine inspections, just like- just like-

“Professor ___,” comes a gruff voice from behind. In your nervous state, you imagine it is a Carrow, and freeze in panic. “Why are you here?”

You whirl around. No. It’s Professor Slughorn.

“Oh,” you straighten your robes. “Horace. I was just taking inventory.”

“Were you? I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” He says brusquely.

“Of course, of course you can.”

Your voice carries the same placid, appealing tone with which you’ve used to calm your pupils. You wince at the sound of it. Then, his expression loosens. Not immediately, but little by little, settling into the creases and wrinkles of stress and age. His walrus moustache droops into a familiar frown.

“I’m… I’m very sorry, ___,” he says. “Whenever I leave my storage unattended for too long, I take this terrible notion that some very bright and brilliant student is going to brew a polyjuice potion. Heh.”

His laughter rings rather hollow.

“Yes, those were my thoughts exactly,” you concede, heaving a sigh. “It would be so simple. Not for all of them, but some of our best could do it. And then they would make a reckless attempt at escaping, or even try to impersonate one of those Death…”

You stop yourself, and peer carefully into his face.

You’ve noticed how Horace has visibly deflated, how he has lost his colour over the past few months. How could you not? You would never accuse the Slug of being slovenly, but you’re well aware that beneath all the powder his eye-bags are as sunken as yours.

“It is unfortunate that one of my… One of our best…” It seems that he cannot finish his sentence. Nonetheless, you know who she is.

“It’s a very unfortunate thing,” Professor Slughorn mutters idly. “Very unfortunate…”

He’s fiddling with a ring on one liver-spotted finger. His lips purse periodically, as if a throb in his temple is threatening to burst.

“Horace, It’ll all be alright,” you try to reassure him, knowing you cannot guarantee this.

The only response you receive is a distant nod. He does not stop fussing over his ring. Then, he turns abruptly stony again:

“Well, then,” he says. “You’d best be on your way.”

He dismisses you as curtly as he would a student, but you don’t protest. You know that when you leave, he will pacify his anxiety with a sleeping draught.

As you exit the dungeon and traverse the silent halls, the early winter chill rattles straight through your bones. It seems that Hogwarts grows colder each passing day; colder and emptier. Even when teaching, your classroom is as quiet as death.

Alchemy has never been a popular elective, and now you are down to very few students. Some had also disappeared completely over the Summer, mostly those without Pureblood status or families to support them… You try not to ponder too deeply on it. For their sake - and perhaps also for your own - you keep it together.

Yes. You must stay stubborn and strong. Especially considering what you are about to do now.

You shiver in your thin robes outside of the Headmaster’s office. The griffin sentinel glares haughtily down at you, and for a second you fancy it alive, judging you guilty for some crime. Thinking this, You glance this way and that, wary of onlookers.

But all of the students are asleep; or at least, they should be. Most of your coworkers have also retired for the evening. You here stand alone.

You take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Sugar Quill.” Your voice echoes eerily.

The griffin does not budge. The new headmaster has changed the password, of course. You suspected as much, but it was still worth attempting.

“Amortentia,” you try next. No response.

You shift, acutely aware of how ridiculous you must appear; a Hogwarts professor stumped by a statue.

“Polyjuice. Veritaserum. Bezoar… Asphodel.”

Nothing.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you huff, already spiked with tight, uneasy tension. “It was so much easier when Dumbledore…”

A low, heavy rumble breaks your train of thought as the spiral staircase emerges. You quickly mount it and climb upwards, boots clattering on the rising stone. It gives way to a large study lined with bookshelves.

You’ve made it into Dumbledore’s office.

Except it is no longer his. You must remind yourself of this fact often, and each time it stings, like a tiny pricking thorn ingrown into the heart. The study is far draughtier than you remember; devoid and bereft in the absence of Fawkes.

No, Albus is not here. Instead, what scowls over at you from behind the Headmaster’s desk is the unmistakable face of Severus Snape, and he does not appear pleased to see you.

“Kindly inform me why you are in my office.” His voice is slow and measured, but you can sense the venom lurking underneath.

“I don’t remember ever giving you the password,” he continues, alighting from his chair. “Or have you picked up that nasty eavesdropping habit from one of our pupils?”

He spat that last word as if it was a curse.

“No, Severus,” you say quickly. “I guessed it.”

Severus. Or Professor Snape. But now…

You think you catch him pale ever-so-slightly, or perhaps that is the dim lighting of the room, casting dark, creeping shadows across the floor. While there has never been a cordiality or warmth to your relationship, you recognise that you have been spared the worst of his barbed hostility.

Before now, that is; now, the distance between you is far too great.

“Did you now?” He sneers.

In response, you draw up, mindful not to appear challenging as you tip your chin.

“I’m here because I have a proposition for you,” you announce clearly. “I hoped you would be reasonable and hear me out.”

Snape’s eyes narrow icily and suddenly you are in his Potions class again, overseen with strict authority. One wrong move, and the concoction will spoil and poison you. His black robes billow as he approaches, expanding like the hood of a cobra.

“There is nothing you could possibly offer me,” he says, folding one shrouded arm over another. “And so there is nothing to discuss. Leave.”

Your nerves are strung so tight, you can’t help but object: “The Carrows are far too cruel in their methods! Too brutal. The students-”

“Are very fortunate to have been granted mercy by the Dark Lord,” Snape interrupts, and you swallow thickly. Of course, you could not have forgotten the festering dark mark that now itches underneath his robes, writhing and serpentine.

“But it isn’t enough,” you say, throat sandpaper dry. A rush of urgency floods your system. Now. It needs to be now, before you lose your courage.

(A gash on the cheek, a row of dark-purplish bruises and welts, a swollen eye, whippings and burns, scars from chains, all so frightened, but brave still.)

“If you agree to grant my students your protection,” your voice falters. “I will give… Myself to you.”

The silence that follows is agonising. His expression is indecipherable; taut and stiff. You’re beginning to think that maybe you weren’t transparent enough.

Your trembling hands drift towards your top buttons, and you start to undo them bit by bit.

“Stop,” Snape orders.

At this, you freeze. Your heart plummets starkly into your intestines. Oh. You hadn’t even considered that he would - or could - reject your offer. You fear you may have tipped the bubbling cauldron over and left it melting through the carpet. As you linger numbly, Snape’s tongue darts between his lips. Light flashes behind his stern black eyes.

Perhaps he’s considering it, perhaps…

“Come here,” he says sharply. You obey.

Shuddering in the winter chill, you watch the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, the twitch of his lids as his gaze dips steadily downward… Snape’s forefinger comes to brush the fabric from your shoulder, his knuckle grazing your collarbone, and your pulse quickens anew.

“I’ll do anything,” you plead. “Please, Severus.”

“You will refer to me as ‘Headmaster,’” he corrects.

“Headmaster…”

You suck in a shaky breath. Standing this close to him, you can make out the lilac rims of his sunken eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.

He’s tired… The thought springs to mind, unbidden.

The hand that tends to the rest of your buttons is not rough, but the coldness of his touch makes you flinch. Snape pulls down your outer robes in one swift motion, and you can’t help but gasp. Your nipples perk from the chill, skin prickled with goosebumps. Underwear was unnecessary, and though you knew that from the start, you are stripped so quickly it still leaves you cringing. He moves to fondle your breasts, and your breathing shallows. You stare desperately towards the floor, towards some old, faded tea stain.

“Fall on your knees, ___,” he tells you.

You kneel quickly in front of him, and he moves to cup the nape of your neck. You don’t need to be instructed; you do your best to steady your hands and unfasten the button over his crotch. You nudge out his dick, and see that he’s already half-hard.

Before he changes his mind, you spit into your palm and use it as lubricant as you get to work jerking him off. You can feel him watching you, silent and still. This situation is completely wrong, all wrong, but the awkwardness of it is almost juvenile.

“___,” he calls above you. You stiffen. You know that cautionary tone. “If you have enough cheek to wag your tongue at me, you can also use it for this.”

You nod faintly, licking your lips. Of course, you should have prepared for this, too, but you have barely even steeled your nerves. Hesitant, you lean forward and run your tongue along the shaft, tracing a vein. Your movements are practically mechanical; dispensing small, kitten licks over the tip, continuing to stroke him. This is now a kind of out-of-body experience for you, the sort of bizarre circumstance you can only encounter in a very strange dream.

But then, Snape decides your next course of action for you, clutching your jaw and muffling your whimpers as he sinks into your mouth.

A teardrop falls softly onto your chest, and it only occurs to you now that you’re crying. You gag out a sob as the tip of Snape’s cock hits the back of your throat, unable to prevent loose spit from dribbling down your chin. Above you, his breath hitches.

“Open your eyes,” he demands.

You didn’t know you had closed them; squeezed them tightly shut. You peek up at his pale face.

His pupils are blown wide, almost entirely black. Snape forbids you to keep eye-contact with a firm grip over your head, and you gag again as he rocks his hips. You clutch his thighs for purchase while he fucks your face, tears streaming down your cheeks. For distraction, you try to focus on him, and his pleasure-stricken expression lulls you in like hypnosis; the tightness of his lips, his dark brows slightly furrowed, the minute twitches in his jaw.

Snape’s thrusts begin to stutter, but he tightens his hold on you and forces you to take all of him. He drags in a sharp intake of breath, and warm, slightly bitter cum pools onto your tongue.

“Swallow it. All of it.”

You gasp for air, gulping it down hastily.

“You'll be getting used to the taste of me. Stand.”

Snape urges you up and steers you over to his table. Before you can blink, you’re whirled around and caged against his desk. The edge of it cuts harshly into your naked thighs, and you yelp. You can feel his long black hair sweep over your neck, a sensation that is almost ticklish. Snape yanks down your robes and they fall limply around your boots. Now, you are truly exposed, shivering and naked. The only source of warmth is his body heat pressed into your back, the starched, dark fabric of his clothing.

His cool hand dips around and feels down your stomach, and your breath hitches as Snape unexpectedly plunges several fingers into your pussy. You shock yourself with how slick you are, mortified at the way he tsks behind you:

“Little slut. Is this what you’ve always wanted?” Snape hisses into your ear, spreading the pads of his fingertips over your labia, teasing your clit.

“Yes!” You choke out.

“Yes, Headmaster,” he pinches your clit warningly and it feels like an electric shock.

“Yes, yes Headmast- ah…!”

He starts to rub in rough, merciless circles, and you immediately try to stifle a cry against your wrist. Snape rips it impatiently from you.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I can feel how wet you are.”

It’s surely not the truth. Surely, you tell yourself...

One long, deft forefinger slips into your slit and pumps steadily in and out. You let out a soft moan, unable to resist the quivering thrill that coils in your abdomen. You didn’t realise he would even try to prep you, and, against your will, you feel some of your fear dissipate.

“You think I didn’t notice, did you?” He scoffs. “Always so desperate for my attention, always clamouring for a better grade.”

Memories of your seventh year at Hogwarts resurface and spiral dizzily in your head. The newest, youngest professor, but strict and competent, and—

Dark, sweeping cloak, black hair, black eyes…

I even once wished I could brush away the strands…

Then he retracts his fingers, slowly, torturously, You hate how you yearn for his touch in its absence, how you crave the buzz to smother your discomfort.

Snape bends you cleanly over the polished table, your still damp breasts pressing into the hardwood. He traces a long, thin finger down your back, tracing languidly across your spine; you could almost believe his touch is tender. Almost. Instinctively, you try to turn your head to face him, but he denies you with a firm hand gripping the base of your neck. You whimper as he lathers cold precum on your thighs, positioning his straining dick over your entrance:

“…Or was it praise you were hoping for?” His voice is low and subdued. Snape’s breath fans over you, and for a moment you falter.

No, of course you don’t expect—

No, not from Professor Snape. Only your best was acceptable. To elicit a nod of approval, or even a commending glance, you couldn’t possibly hope—

“Headmaster, I— I only ever wanted you to…”

“Beg for it,” his tone sharpens again.

Snape slips the tip of his cock inside your folds. But then, he stops, and does not move. You are trapped between his desk and him, left pitiful and squirming.

“Headmaster,” you say weakly. “Please.”

“Please what, ___?”

You grit your teeth, still bristling at the indignity of it all. But you know that, whether he’s enjoying himself or not, Snape has the patience to wait this out.

“Please, fuck me!” you plead.

You gasp as he grips your thighs and slides himself in further with a lewd, wet sound. Your walls stretch around him as you adjust to his length. He groans softly and rolls his hips, sinking deeper into your cunt, until you’re utterly full of him.

Despite it all, it feels sinfully good, but his movements are so sluggish that you can’t help but whine pathetically into the wooden table.

“And what exactly is it that you’ve always wanted?”

What I always wanted, when I was in Potions class…

“For you to p-praise me, Headmaster.”

In an instant, you realise this is true. Deep down, you have always hoped for his sole attention… And now he’s invading that dark, primordial world in between, spurring on those secret and forbidden desires you should never have conceived.

Snape slowly pulls out, dragging every inch of his cock, and then snaps his hips back in, briefly hitting that sweet, sensitive spot that has you seeing stars.

“Please!” You add, letting out a shrill moan.

“And do you? Do you want this…?”

He mutters so quietly, it almost sounds like he’s begging you. Snape’s pace is set now, rocking powerfully into you as you fill the air with loud, desperate whimpers.

“I do!” You breathe, mind-numbingly uncertain.

But it doesn’t matter anymore if you want it or not; the sensation is so overbearing and so ruthless, unforgiving and unfair, just like him. You’re barely cognizant of the arms that curl around your naked waist, almost embracing you, until they provide cushioning against the sharp desk.

“You take me so well,” he murmurs, “So well.”

Your head spins, threatening to give up on you completely. You could never have predicted such a drastic change in demeanour. The way he’s treating you now is so different from his earlier cruelty; his affectionate caresses might be almost loving.

“So tight, so good for me…” He groans again, heavily, and the vibrations thrill up your spine as he spears you on his dick. “You’re doing perfectly.”

He kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, sighing blissfully. You can feel the spiking thrum of Snape’s heartbeat, the soft touch of his lips on your neck, kissing reverently over your shoulder blade. You wish you could just see the expression on his face, if you could only see Severus for one moment…

“Headmaster,” you pant, craning your head.

“Don’t,” he says hurriedly. “Don’t look at me.”

Snape doesn’t relent, forcing you firmly in place with a hard squeeze on your shoulder. There’s something thick and vulnerable in his voice that you can’t place, but all you can respond with is a needy cry as he speeds up, angling his thrusts just right. You can feel the familiar shock of pleasure coiling up in your belly now, surging from how deep he reaches.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, aren’t I?” He snaps without warning, bursting with emotion again. You can only nod frantically in response.

“Yes, yes, Headmaster!” You sob, your eyes stinging with tears again.

Snape’s movements only grow stronger, his breathing heavier and huskier. His fingernails are digging small, half-moon indents into your skin. You don’t try to stifle the wanton moans that spill from your lips anymore, clawing for purchase at the wood.

“___… When you cum, you cum for me.”

Uncontrollably, you arch into the table. Your leg is cramping up from the exertion, muscles pulled taut, and you’re going to, you’re going to—

Your orgasm drowns the rest of your thoughts in static, white, hot bliss that smothers you. Snape shudders and moans as he buries himself to the hilt, pumping you full of his seed. His black cloak sweeps over you as he pulls out, far too soon, leaving you quivering and dripping with his cum.

The last, mangled strands of lucidity swim hazily in your mind. It takes a moment for you to remember why you were here at all.

After a few seconds, he releases you from the confines of his desk without a word. You bend down and hoist the ring of fabric up past your hips again, though your skin is sticky and damp. After a deep, shaky breath, you dare to glance at Snape.

There’s a thin sheet of sweat beading his forehead. Snape helps you pull your robes over your shoulders. He silently fastens your buttons back up again for you, and his touch is surprisingly gentle. You don’t rebuff him. Your hands are trembling enough as it is.

“Promise me that you’ll…” You halt.

Your vision is still blurry, but you could swear he looks like the old Severus. Not the figurehead or the professor, but the man. The Severus you once knew.

There’s a strange look in his eyes that you don’t understand, and maybe you never will.

You’re so dead tired you can barely drag your feet back to the staff’s living quarters. You wake Minerva— or, no, she is already occupied by her usual routine of restless pacing, tugging at her tartan dressing-gown. While she does interrogate you a bit crossly, you can tell she empathises with your ‘insomnia.’

After that you gulp down a contraceptive and stumble into bed, boneless and weary. You don’t cry at all, though you feel that you probably should.

In a way, you’re glad that Minerva doesn’t appear concerned or worried for you. That means she hasn’t found out. There was a persistent paranoia in the back of your mind that she had, that Minerva had seen or heard or sensed it somehow.

You wonder if she’d feel disgusted, or if she would simply pity you. Maybe that would be worse.

You flick your wand and flush out the light.

No. No one needs to know what you’ve done.

A month passes. The grip of winter releases its hold, and spring emerges in its wake, fresh and pure. It’s as if you can finally breathe again.

You hope that you do not imagine the way your student’s faces regain some semblance of warmth. You hope you do not imagine the unmarred bodies, mercifully free from wounds. You also hope that it is not their own schemes or plans that embolden them.

They should leave those matters to you.

Somehow, it feels like the nightmare is almost over. But not yet. Not yet. You still await your orders, and nurse lofty dreams of freedom in your heart.

When night falls, you strip off your underclothes and climb the spiral staircase once more. It is not excitement that tightens your chest, but it is also not dread. Perhaps something else you also do not understand, and cannot afford to think of now.

Headmaster Snape is standing by his desk. You realise he’s been waiting for you. He has that strange, mystifying look in his eyes again.

He offers you a hand.

“Come here,” he says.

1K notes · View notes

messrmoonyy · 1 month

Text

Sadie Adler | Beaver Hollow

#I have just so many drafts I keep forgetting to post them #I wish the fucking schedule post button would fix itself #dare I say beaver hollow Sadie is a superior Sadie #like out of all the camps she’s present at. beaver hollow just hits different #I hated being at beaver hollow I spent no time there. only to follow her around #sadie adler #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 photography #rdr2 #Sadie Adler icons #rdr2 icons #sadie adler x reader #Arthur Morgan #dutch van der linde #John Marston #rdr

216 notes · View notes

smolvenger · 1 month

Text

My Lord (Prince Hal x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: After you dance with another man, Prince Hal, your royal intended has a confession to make...

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ (fingering, p in v sex, doing it on a desk), historical inaccuracies for the sake of vibes, grammar and spelling mistakes, angst and fluff.

Dick-tionary: Smut starts at “Kiss me again, my dove,” and ends at "You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle. "

Word Count: 3K

A/N: From @muddyorbsblr's request! It ended up being longer, oops. But enjoy!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Despite your fine dress and the rich wine flowing, you felt somber at your betrothal ball. Not that the ball itself was a sad event. No, you were not merry from everything around you. It was all merry with the throne room decorated with flowers and jigs being played by the musicians. Your melancholy was due to your intended.

Of all the good lords and gentlemen on this green isle, only one was destined to be the next king. And that was who you were going to marry. Your parents were thrilled when the king agreed to the marriage. They smiled and embraced you as an artist hugged their painting. They managed to sell you to the highest bidder.

His Majesty Prince Henry the Fourth of Lancaster. The highest bidder indeed.

Or Hal, as the taverns ruffians called him. Hal. Riotous, dishonorable, pranking, thieving, tavern hopping, wench chasing, sack drinking Hal. Beautiful, princely, decadent Hal. Every time his brothers had to tell their father the truth of Hal’s layabouts…the king would turn red with fury. Not that you were surprised.

Even if the scoundrel you were going to call your husband had been kind to you these past few months. He would be by your side. And trying to win you over or get you to smile. Flirt with you- he did to hundreds of women at this point! No doubt! Your inner giddiness was mixed with a silent rage and you weren’t sure which would pop out first each time he got your hand and kissed it gently. Hal was beautiful. A handsome, handsome man who wore his doublets tight on his lean frame and walked with a swagger, his auburn curls freed about his head. There was a charm to his manner, and feelings were in you when you looked at him. Feelings you didn’t like. Feelings you didn’t dare name.

For that, you remained polite. Never forward. Nice, but nothing more. For what else could you do? The world of court could be deadly and dangerous. The world’s eyes were on you. You couldn’t afford to make a reckless move.

Despite the garden walks and meals, there was that sliver of distrust. If you didn’t see him, he could be on the floor of the filthiest bar in Eastcheap passed out on the floor from drink. Or in a room with two tavern women in positions that would make a sailor blush.

And the last picture of him in bed with other women- it made you want to scream and sob and throw your goblet at the wall until it smashed into a hundred bits and then pick your skirts, march to the other end of the room, and slap him hard across his beautiful face.

You took a deep breath.

It was just your imagination. Nothing actually happened. One inhale, then another exhale. The walls were grey stone, the candlelight yellow, and the music from a flute was playing something fast.

Why were you like this, you had to remind yourself! You didn’t like him! Why should that matter? You had to remember how much you didn’t care and didn’t like him.

He could have every woman in England on their knees for him every night and you would not care. You would go about your merry way and when you didn’t have to squeeze out a son, you would enjoy the monetary benefits of servants, fine dresses, horses, gold, jewels, money to buy whatever thing you wanted, and the freedom to do as you pleased as queen.

You held your chin up. Only glad it was a lovely party. All were taking gentle sips of wine, sampling the roast boar, listening to lutes, and laughing over nothing. You felt like doing none. In a whole crowd of people, you felt alone, isolated, and cut off. Like a foreigner trying to make a friend but never knowing how to speak the language. They gathered and talked…and here you were. The most wanted and yet also the most unwanted.

Taking a deep breath, you continued to walk in to try to get your mind off of things.

There were dances as well. But you felt as if your soles were made of lead. For all were celebrating your marriage to this scoundrel.

This beautiful, delectable, leather-clad scoundrel. Looking at him across the room, something inside you churned. And you were frightened to name it.

He was in the corner, talking to his brothers. You turned your eyes down. For the party was in swing and in a way, as if they forgot you were its purpose. They wanted to laugh and gossip and drink. Forget their worldly cares and be merry.

You brought your eyes up to search for him. Your heart beat a little harder seeing Prince Hal at the other end of the room. How delicious he looked. His tight leather jacket was the color of the wine. He preferred rougher, bawdier parties- that was why he was frowning as his father went up to talk to him. And here you were, just to be tolerated as his bride. It seemed queenhood was a lifetime away, as was your marriage. For all of this fuss over you both being joined, you couldn’t help but feel separated.

Taking a deep breath, you put both hands on your cup and took another sip, resisting the urge to gulp down your wine and let the alcohol take its effect.

As you walked in, the Lord of Warwick went up.

“My lady- here is my nephew, Thomas! He’s going to appear at Court more often!” the lord introduced.

You curtsied and gave a smile.

The Lord of Warwick’s nephew with his own blonde hair and blue eyes and skin that tanned. He was a polite, warm friendly boy. For having just met him, he left a good impression on you. The uncle even stepped aside to let you talk. Then Thomas held out a hand.

“They’re having dances. Would you give me a dance, my lady?”

“I would love to,” you replied.

You enjoyed his company as you danced. He was very good too- Hal himself had no “strength in measure” and was inches from always stepping on your toes the grand total of two times you danced. Passing between couples, joining, parting, and reasoning hands to the lute music. You felt at peace.

Little did you know Hal’s eyes were on you.

They were on you every time you the whole evening.

Prince Hal scowled. He was practically red with anger. The second the dance ended, he marched up to you. Thomas looked sickly pale and you felt your stomach drop. You never saw Hal himself have any anger and part of you was terrified. They always say it’s the ones who are never angry you watch out for.

“My lord, what is the matter?” you asked after your curtsey.

“I would like to speak with my lady intended,” Hal ordered.

Thomas handed you over quickly.

Amidst the ball, Hal grabbed your arm. Fie, his hand- large, beautiful hands taking a whole of your arm and dragging you to the hallways and through a door. Jesu, was he going to hurt you? Hal never once did anything that would harm you. He seemed too mischievous and cheerful to seem capable of raising his hand to a woman, much less you. There was a fierceness on his fast that made your heart race. You didn’t know if you were feeling lust, terror, or both at once.

The room was a study. The night sky shone outside, though there were lights from the torches and candles. None were inside-perhaps at the party. With tall bookshelves and desks, it would have been a comforting room had your heart been beating wildly against your ribs.

He looked at you up and down. He saw your dress, how it formed you well, and hugged you in the right places. A warmth flushed over you, and you realized you were panting a little to deepen your breaths. But his face was still angry. Beautifully, beautifully angry.

“What, what is the matter?” you asked. Hoping to get this over with quickly.

“Quite a bit, that is the matter!” Hal replied, ruffling his curly hair.

You gestured at the door.

“My lord, they will notice we are gone. We have a party to attend to…”

Hal reached up a hand that he held in the air. You looked back at him. His voice remained soft, matter of fact, right to the bone.

“My lady, we have to discuss young Warwick. The way you were dancing at him, smiling at him.”

“Oh, him!” you said. You had deduced it. He just had to say it himself.

“Yes! The look he was giving you like he would be falling before your feet any minute! Your smile at him! And you were encouraging him, and I-”

“Are you jealous, Harry?” you interrupted, blurting out the obvious.

He turned a little pink.

“Yes, well- what if I am? Should I not be if a gentleman dances with my lady?”

“A lady can rarely turn down another man. My mother told me it is impolite to refuse a man’s offer to dance!” you reasoned.

Hal leaned closer to you.

“You have promised yourself to me, not him! You’re engaged to me!”

He paused and his mouth hung in mid-air. You saw his eyes were shining bright, he was…on the brink of tears. The jolliest scoundrel in all of England and…he was crying. When you imagined him with other women earlier…was that the very feeling he was having as well?

You closed the distance to him, you offered your hand and he took it.

“Hal, I am sorry. I didn’t think you would be upset or even care that I danced with him…” you consoled.

He brought up a hand and wiped a tear off with his palm.

“I forgive you, my lady. Only….That the way you were beaming at him, and not at me, I…I don’t even have words for it and- YN- it makes me angry because…because…I wish it were me you were smiling at…me and only me. That one smile. Then I’d know for sure that you’d love me and we could be find a way to-”

You gasped.

“What did you say?!”

Your face was closer to his, your voice even softer. He paused. His tears stopped.

“You…you love me?”

He flushed, hung his head low, and then back up.

“I do, my sweeting. I love you so much. I don’t know how else to say it or what speeches or things to give. If I am under your spell, I never wish to be out of it. I don’t ask you to love me back at all…I only ask you…you… pity me.”

His face was right before words. Your own mouth began to speak of its own accord. The music was softer, and distant, as if the ball was a world away.

“Hal…even with everything in Eastcheap, I…I… I…I cannot help but…but want to see you, and speak to you, I think of you and wonder what you are doing when you’re away. And I…I worry about you. I want you happy- more than happy, safe.”

He closed the distance and kissed you. The first kiss you ever had other than chaste pecks on the hand. You shuddered at it as he wrapped his hands around you, one hand crawling up your back. He knew his way around a woman’s body. And he knew what would make your knees tremble. You melted into his arms, collapsing into the kiss, into the embrace. He tasted of wine, of freedom.

He let go. But it was as if something awoke that was long asleep. You let him keep his hands on you, to feel your body beneath your dress—one on your hip, fingers inches away from the most private, precious of places on you. You kept on babbling despite yourself.

“All the battles your father sends you on and… and…I was worried, worried you would die…worried something would happen to you- and then, the Eastcheap visits….I was worried…worried you and Doll would.”

“There were no whores. Not since we’ve met,” he replied.

You kissed him again, and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms to feel his back. Dizzy and drink on him. You heard his moan.

He leaned back on a chair and had you straddle him. You gasped, feeling your legs come apart. Places between you were starting to dampen and it was just over where his most secret places were. You were never this close, this intimate with each other

“Kiss me again, my dove,” he commanded.

You kissed him again, his fingers crawling, up your leg. He found your hip and then moved you. You moaned from the friction, the touching and brushing of your bodies.

But you wanted it, you didn’t stop him.

His hands were over you, greedily touching since you were all his now-his betrothed, his wife, and soon his queen- and he would make sure you never forgot it. He gave you a last grind of your hips.

His hands desperately searched your clothes, trying to find the seams. But you were aching, going up for him, needing him.

“Hal- Hal!” you whispered

“And what if I do? I can’t bear it- the longer I’m with you, the more desire overcomes me- You drive me mad- I can’t, I can’t take it, my dear, my love-I-I have to ravish you, here-now-”

“Yes, you may…”

He slid aside the papers and books so the desk was clear. You swallowed, getting incredibly wet but excited with his flushed face. But his eyes determined, an animal after his prey. And nothing could tear him from his prize.

He kissed you, prompting you to sit. He undid a bit of your bodice, pulling it down, finding your breasts. The cold air touched it as his pupils darkened over the sight of you.

“You’re exquisite, darling, and you’re not his, you’re mine-”

Once they were revealed, he fondled them, thumb grazing over the hard nipples. You moaned appreciatively. All while he kissed your neck.

“Say it, say you’re mine,” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you replied.

He then freed a hand. It moved up your leg.

“All of this, this beauty, it is all mine-and I’ll drive you there, until you cry out for all of them to hear.”

slid a finger inside and you gasped, feeling it stretch you. You gasped as he curled up- surprised his long finger could go so deep, and find a spot that brought so much pleasure and pain as he discovered the little nub inside you.

“My- my lord!”

He kissed your neck again, then looked at you, smugness spread on his lips.

“Yes….yes, call me that.”

He gathered your skirt up and then undid his codpiece and released his pants, standing at full attention. You gave a small gasp at the sight of his size. He looked at you darkly, a new tone in his voice- deadly and commanding, a king to his whore

“You will be good and make it fit, every bit of it. And you will call me my lord.”

His hands made your legs come wide apart, he moved you up. He was slow, entering you, so you got used to it. You let out a moan, tugging onto him.

“Yes…take it…like a good girl…take it.”

He forced your legs further apart, sheathing you in with a grunt. You let out a sound, your insides penetrated, clutching onto him, feeling your bare breasts against his leather. Your blouse fell lower, exposing both. He then gave a first, sloppy thrust. Then he was seated inside you.

“My lord!” you cried out.

“There-there- I will make you scream it louder,” he growled.

Then he began thrusting—his moans in your ear. You dug your fingers into his shoulders and grabbed your hips, keeping tight. The desk made a sound as you did. It began slowly.

“My-my lord, oh- gods- yes, there, my lord-gods-gods blood-”

It then picked up, your breasts bouncing and your heart racing. All you knew was him, felt was him. You were moaning even louder. It was a desperate, animal. Pounding his hips into yours.

He released one hand. It found your nub between. You gasped. He then strummed it with each deep, forceful, desperate pounding.

“H-My-My lord I-I-there-oh-oh god-I’m-I’m going-going to-to die, but- don’t-don’t-don’t stop-”

“You’re close, you’re-you’re close, darling-call me that-yes-now-fuck,yes-yes-

“Say it, say it when you cum-I’m-I’m going to cum-cum inside- cum, fie, lady- fie, it’s on me now- cum, fie, lady -cum!”

He picked it up incredibly fast, you held onto him, your pleasure spinning out of control.

“Yes- close, close- come on now, give in- let go-”

With a grunt, his seed shot into you and the release of pleasure broke inside you. You didn't say his title but gasped. The light had hit you and made everything duller, things spun, and you felt as if you were in oblivion.

In a final whisper, you only whispered once more “My…my lord…” Your nails dug into him- your lord, your intended, your prince, and your husband. A marriage not sworn but already consummated.

He pulled out, and then cupped your face, “as you are my lady.”

You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle.

He helped you off and then readjusted your dress so all was well. Making sure the blouse covered you up and that your skirt was in place.

“Are you not hurt?” he asked.

“Not a bit.”

He wrapped a protective arm around you, leading you out.

“Here…we must return to the party…I will fetch us some wine.”

“And…you can have the next dance, my lord,” you said.

He smiled at you- not a naughty smile, but a kind, genuine smile that burst with love.

“As you have all of mine, my lady.”

His smile shone brighter than any candlelight. He gave you a last kiss before you were on his arm, returning to the party.

#smut #carrie writes #prince hal #prince hal x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #the hollow crown #prince hal fanfiction #prince hal x you #prince hal x y/n #prince hal smut #prince hal imagine #prince hal the hollow crown

148 notes · View notes

skzhua · 2 months

Text

'down into the hollow' series (coming soon)

synopsis: pixie hollow has never been better. each fairy fulfills their responsibility as they should. all of them? some may be distracted with a certain visitor called love.

genre: fairies!stray kids, fantasy!au, tinkerbell universe, fluff mostly, slow burn, genre depends on each story.

warnings: swearing, suggestive for some of them, all are female reader.

note: they can be read individually, but they are all interrelated. (i used the same names as my 'your eyes' series because i have no inspiration when it comes to names)

note 2: click on the hearts to read!

status: coming soon...

STRAY KIDS MASTERLIST

♡ "Follow the melody in your heart."

pairing: music fairy!bang chan x dust keeper!reader.

genre: strangers-to-lovers, fluff, angst.

word count: tba.

warnings: swearing, lots of complaining, chan is clueless as hell.

summary: unlike your friend, jisung, you adore being a dust keeper. getting to participate in the magic of the fairies makes you ecstatic. or maybe, it has something to do with the musician who practices near the pixie hollow tree almost every day.

♡ "Can you keep up?"

pairing: fast-flying fairy!lee minho x fast-flying fairy!reader.

genre: enemies-to-lovers (everyone's fav trope), fluff, angst.

word count: tba.

warnings: swearing, insults, talks of depression.

summary: as much as minho loves the simplicity of his life, a new fairy arriving in pixie hollow comes in to ruin his perfectly quiet routine. not only that, but she dares to steal the show as one of their fastest fairies they've ever had.

♡ "I'd build a house for you."

pairing: tinker fairy!seo changbin x animal fairy!reader.

genre: slice of life, friends-to-lovers, lots of fluff.

word count: tba.

warnings: swearing.

summary: as one of the best tinker fairies, changbin is the fairy to go to when in need. when a squirrel accident occurs, the only person you think of is him. only, this wouldn't be the first time you'd visit the kind fairy.

♡ "I followed the current until I reached a waterfall that made me fall for you."

pairing: water fairy!hwang hyunjin x light fairy!reader.

genre: fluff, angst.

word count: tba.

warnings: swearing, hyunjin is a romanticist, talks of loneliness.

summary: you and your brother have a specific routine. in charge of the sunrise and the sunset, you are used to watching them. when you are tasked with rainbows making one day, the water fairy you are paired with takes your breath away.

♡ "Sometimes, you only need a little bit of dust."

pairing: dust keeper!han jisung x music fairy!reaader.

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff!

word count: tba.

warnings: swearing, jisung stares a lot.

summary: jisung never liked being a dust keeper. while the others get to play and fly around all day, he stares at the golden flakes for hours on end. on one of his many staring sessions at the other fairies, the music crew begins to play what can only be described as the most magical melody he has the chance to hear. their singer? you.

♡ "I never thought I'd see something shinier than the light."

pairing: light fairy!lee felix x garden fairy!reader.

genre: best friend's brother, fluff.

word count: tba.

warnings: swearing.

summary: befriending someone who is a twin means two things. one; you are blessed with all the family secrets. two; you might ask about the other twin's a little too much.

♡ "They say swans find their forever partner."

pairing: animal fairy!kim seungmin x music fairy!reader.

genre: forced proximity, fluff.

word count: tba.

warnings: swearing, suggestive.

summary: as you fly over to the daily rehearsal with the music fairies, birds coming your way changes your path and leads you to a dark cavern where the clumsy animal fairy misguided the flying beasts. it might take a while before the both of you get out, might as well make the most of it.

♡ "Growing flowers is kind of my thing."

pairing: garden fairy!yang jeongin x dust keeper!reader.

genre: strangers-to-lovers, fluff.

word count: tba.

warnings: swearing.

summary: he comes every day at the pixie hollow tree, and you observe him every time. you don't know him, he doesn't know you. somehow, the pink flowers he brings every now and then begin to grab your curiosity.

152 notes · View notes

brittscafe · 7 months

Note

Hi! I hope you’re doing alright! :) I wanted to request the prompt, “Gentle wipe of your spilled tears after heavy arguments, a simple gesture that shows you how sorry they are for making you shed sad tears instead of happy ones.” with bleach men? Or something close to it! I really just want some heart breaking angst and a happy ending. Thank you in advance, I love your blog!!

ahhh yesss! I love this prompt! <3 <3 I can include the quinces and arrancars in my next post, if you would like!

Ichigo Kurosaki: You rush inside Ichigo's room and slam the door open. Ichigo turns around and you throw your arms around the man.

"What's wrong?" Ichigo asks, running his fingers through your hair as you squeeze him tightly.

"I thought you were hurt," you breath out, pulling away from his embrace. Ichigo's eyebrows furrows and he shakes his head.

"I can take care of myself, you know? I am a substitute soul reaper," Ichigo reassures you with a confident tone.

"I know," you chew on your quivering bottom lip. Your eyes rake over his bruised face, dry blood on his lips. His body shaking slightly and the pain written all over his face.

His breath shudders seeing the hot tears spill down your face. Ichigo stifles a tiny gasp and his heart breaks into a million pieces.

"Y/N," he calls out gently, taking a stride towards you and reaching out. His hand cups the back of your head and he lets out a heavy sigh.

Ichigo brushes his thumb over your face, picking up your tears.

"I just wish I was there to help you. Maybe you wouldn't have gotten hurt if I was there," you sob out, your chest crushing. Ichigo smiles warmly at you and his eyes soften.

"You were there," he speaks carefully, grabbing your hand and putting it on his chest. His heart thumps against your hand and you smile weakly.

Uryu Ishida: Your breath shudders as you walk up to Uryu, standing alone in the soul society, watching as the war between the soul reapers and quincies break out.

His white cape flows in the wind and you gulp.

"Uryu, what are you doing?" you call out, furrowing your eyebrows. When Ichigo had told you that your boyfriend was on the other side of the war, you couldn't believe it.

"What are you doing here?" Uryu asks, his eyes widening at the sight of you as he faces you.

"No, you don't get to question me, not right now! What the hell are you doing?" you raise your voice, speaking through gritted teeth.

Uryu stands there, staring at you in shock. He never expected you to come into the soul society or even find out about this.

"I'm a Quincy. This is my blood," Uryu replies dryly and you scoff quietly.

"You're betraying everyone you know! Are you sure this is the path you want to go down?" you ask, stepping forward.

Uryu reaches out with his hand and he touches your soft skin. His hand cups your cheek and tilts up your face, eyes meeting his.

"Hey..." Uryu calls out and you meet his eyes. The tears race down your face and a frown rests on your face.

"You're breaking my heart," you comment, your voice breaking. Uryu lowers his head with shame and lets out a heavy sigh.

"I know and I'm so sorry, y/n. You'll see why I chose this, soon. I promise, but you need to go back home," Uryu sighs out, wiping away your tears.

"Just...don't break your promise," you demand, stepping back from his embrace.

Renji Abarai: "What the hell was that?!" Renji's voice booms out as he marches over towards you. You wipe the sweat off your forehead and squeeze your sword in your hand.

"What? Me saving your ass?" you scoff quietly, glancing down at the dead hollow on the ground. Renji rolls his eyes with annoyance and scowls.

"I didn't need you to save me!" Renji raises his voice and your taken back by his tone. You take a step back and let out a tiny breath, pondering.

You didn't understand why Renji was being so cold and mean. You just wanted to help your significant other.

"I don't get it, Renji. I was just helping you," you shake your head in denial. Renji's eyes darken and he stomps over to you, towering over you.

"Yeah? Well, I don't need you.”

His words strike you like a knife to the heart and your eyes widen.

"I'm so confused. Don't you appreciate my help? I was just trying to help you!" you raise your voice, your mind rattled with pure confusion.

"You don't get it, y/n! I was trying to prove myself to Captain Kuchiki. I was sent on a mission and I wanted to prove myself. You ruin everything!" Renji shouts out with pure rage.

Your mouth gapes open and your body freezes with shock. You snap your jaw shut and nod your head, tears filling your eyes.

"Okay. I get it," you retort harshly, clenching your jaw.

You went home after that, spent a few hours crying in your shared bed. You were filled with rage, but mostly sadness. How could Renji say something like that?

Your eardrums fill with the sound of the front doors swinging open and your heart skips a beat. Renji's footsteps come closer and closer to your bedroom.

You don't even bother to lift up your head when he enters the room. Renji frowns widely at the sight of you and he lets out a heavy sigh.

He knows what he did was wrong, very wrong. Renji sinks down into the bed and places his hand over your back.

"Baby, I'm sorry," Renji coos out with a soft, comforting voice.

"No, you're not," your voice comes out as muffled.

"I am," he replies.

"I get it, Renji. I get that you were sent on a mission and you wanted to prove yourself to your captain. You didn't have to yell at me," you huff out, lifting up your head.

Renji's eyes widen at your swollen, red face. You glare at him and Renji frowns widely.

"I didn't mean to yell at you. I was mad and I took my anger out on you. I shouldn't have,"

"Yeah, you shouldn't have," you sniffle out and Renji cracks a grin.

"What? Why are you smiling?" you ask, chewing on your bottom lip. Renji places a hand on your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away a tear.

"I'm sorry, but you're so pretty," Renji beams and your eyes widen. You were certain you weren't pretty in this moment. Tears running down your swollen face.

"Whatever," you sigh out, pouting.

"I'm sorry, my pretty girl," Renji speaks softly and you roll your eyes, but you can't help, but crack a tiny smile.

Shinji Hirako: Heated arguments were you and Shinji's thing for sure, but this was too much.

You decided to hide yourself in the bathroom, which was probably not the best place to hide from your boyfriend.

"Y/N, let me in," Shinji sighs in defeat from the outside, leaning his head against the door. You're curled up into a ball, arms wrapped around your knees that are tucked into your chest.

"No," you state firmly, your quivering voice giving yourself away.

"Damn it. Let me in!" Shinji raises his voice, running his hands over his face in frustration.

"Why should I?" you ask, clenching your fists.

"Because...I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I'm stupid and decided to hurt the person that I love the most. I hate that you're in here all alone, crying and I can't comfort you. I know that I don't deserve to, but please, y/n, let me in," Shinji explains with a raspy voice.

His words send a chill down your spine and you gulp. You sit in silence for a moment, before deciding to stand up and unlock the door.

Shinji swings open the door and his heart stops beating for a moment. Your red puffy face along with your tear stained cheeks is enough for even Shinji's heart to break.

He throws his arms around you and holds you tightly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispers repeatedly, peppering kisses all along your face.

It felt so good to be in his arms, in his comfort.

"Shinji, I know," you mumble out in his chest. Shinji's body fills with relief. You didn't need to forgive him, he just needed you to know how sorry he is.

Jushiro Ukitake: I find it very hard to believe that this man made you cry. Anyways...

Emotions were running high as you and Jushiro argued back and forth. Both of your roaring voices fill the room and you end up with tears streaming down your face.

Jushiro wastes no time in rushing up to you as he feels horrible for making you cry. You bite down on your quivering lip and Jushiro gingerly places his hand on your cheek.

"I'm sorry," you hiccup out between sobs and Jushiro's eyes widen.

"Why are you apologizing? It's not your fault," Jushiro furrows his eyebrows with confusion and you shake your head.

"But it is, I started the argument. Now, I'm the one crying just because of what you said," you stutter out, your body slightly trembling.

Jushiro shakes his head. He cam't believe what he's hearing right now.

"No, don't you dare be sorry. What I said was not okay and I'm sorry that I said that," Jushiro speaks gently and you sniffle, wiping your wet face.

"I feel like such a baby," you sigh out, lowering your head in defeat.

"I never want to make you cry, y/n. Please, forgive me, sweetheart," Jushiro begs you, tears in his eyes. He leans his head down and presses his warm lips to your forehead.

You clutch onto his forearms and relish in the moment.

"I will always forgive you, Jushiro," you whisper, smiling up at him.

Shunsui Kyoraku: Your body trembles as your sob tears through your body, unable to muffle your sounds of sadness. You clench your fists and Shunsui's stomach twists into uneasy knots at the sound of your crying.

He glances at you over his shoulder and his mouth gapes open. You glare at him with tears burning your eyes and he leaps towards you.

Shunsui grabs onto your shoulders and your body jolts.

"No. Get away from me," you demand, pressing your hands into his chest and shoving him back. Shunsui's eyes widen and he lowers his head with shame.

He had hurt you and he dreaded it.

You turn around, burying your face in the palm of your hands. Your face burns and Shunsui clears his throat, collecting himself and his emotions.

"Shunsui," you call out as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry," he whispers with a hoarse voice, dipping his head down into the curve of your neck.

"I'm sure you are," you retort harshly, feeling your walls start to break down. You lower your gaze to the ground and Shunsui lets out a heavy sigh.

"Y/N, let me comfort you. Let me take away the pain and hurt that I caused you. Please," Shunsui pleads with you in a ginger, soft voice.

You slowly turn around, facing him and you chew on your lip, pondering. You meet Shunsui's soft, loving gaze and you frown widely.

You step forward and throw your arms around his torso, burying yourself into his chest. Shunsui rests his chin on top of your head and grips you tightly.

Kenpachi Zaraki: You were silent. Deadly. Deadly silent. So, deadly silent as a tear runs down your cheek.

He easily catches your wrist and pulls you closer to him. Kenpachi towers over you and you gulp. Kenny wears a blank expression on his face, but his eyes are soften, so is his touch.

"Were my words too harsh, y/n?" Kenpachi asks with a deep, rough voice. Your lips tremble as you slowly glance up at him, trying to hold yourself together.

"Um, I guess. I don't like when we yell at each other like that, especially when we we're arguing over something so...so stupid," you explain yourself, your voice trembling.

Kenpachi steps closer to you as the tears stream down your cheeks. He leans down towards you and slowly raises his hand. You close your eyes at his soft touch, wiping away your tears.

"I am sorry for raising my voice," Kenpachi speaks truthfully and you nod your head.

"I'm also sorry, Kenny," you sigh out with shame, grabbing onto his large hand and squeezing it. You both share a kind smile, knowing that you will always forgive each other.

Byakuya Kuchiki: Although, he hides his emotions well, he could not help the frown tugging on his face. A single tear drags down your face and drips off of your chin onto the ground.

Byakuya's eyes watch as the tear falls onto the ground and his eyes widen. His heart pulse beats in his ears, blocking out all other sound.

His words were too harsh, cruel, and unruly for him.

Byakuya's muscles tense, but he dare not make a move towards you.

"I take it back. I take all this words that I said back," he speaks up and you slowly lift up your head, meeting his steady, unwavering gaze.

"You can't take them, Byakuya. That's not how this works," you mumble out and his mouth slightly gapes open. His mouth runs dry and he nods his head.

"I know. If I could, I would turn those words into blossom for you, my love. I don't know what I would do without you. My words were hurtful, even I, myself, was taken aback by them. I cannot express how sorry I am," Byakuya speaks gingerly, crouching down onto his knees.

You furrow your eyebrows as Byakuya tenderly grabs onto your hands, pressing them against his forehead. Your stomach twists into uneasy knots as you realize what he's doing.

Byakuya has never really bowed down to anyone in his life, but here he is. Right in front of you, on his knees for you.

"Please, forgive me," he begs you, a trembling voice. His thumbs brush over your hands and you let out a deep sigh. You bring yourself down to your knees and Byakuya slowly lifts his head up.

"You need not bow down to me, Byakuya. We are on the same level as equals, right? That's what you said to me when we first met," you explain, cupping his cheek.

"Yes, I remember," he bobs his head.

"Good. Then, I forgive you as long as can forgive me," you speak gingerly and his eyes widen.

"Of course," he speaks eagerly as you pull his face closer to yours. You smile warmly and press a soft kiss to his lips.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi: The shower starts running in your bedroom and you furrow your eyebrows. You leap up from your bed and rush into the bathroom.

The steam fills the room and you lean against the wall. You grab the shower curtain and slowly peel it back. Mayuri stands in the hot water, letting it drip down his body and soak his hair.

"I didn't know you were home," you comment, a slight smile on your face.

"I'm tired," Mayuri shrugs his shoulders, running his fingers through his electric blue hair.

"I'm tired of the nights when you aren't beside in bed. I miss you," you sigh out, a frown tugging on his face.

"You know how it is. The experiments take a very long time and it has to be precise," he rambles on and you nod your head.

"Yes, I'm aware," you reply dryly.

"I can't spend every waking moment with you! You can't be attached to my hip," Mayuri raises his voice and your jaw drops open.

"I get it," you sigh out.

"Do you really? Because it seems like you don't. You're my girlfriend, not my goddamn dog!" Mayuri shouts out and your lips tremble.

"I feel like an object to you, Mayuri. Like one of your experiments," you sigh out and Mayuri rips open the shower curtain. He glares at you with anger and his fingers wrap around your jaw, tightly.

The tears escape from your eyes and Mayuri shakes his head, inhaling sharply with anger.

"You're wrong. My experiments are nothing like you. They are not fragile, delicate, and full of love. I do not love my experiments the way I love you, y/n. Do you understand me?" he speaks harshly and you nod your head.

"Y-yeah," your voice stutters our, your expression dropping. Mayuri's eyes soften and he pulls you closer.

"Hey, come here," Mayuri beckons with a soft, raspy voice. He wraps his arms around you and your head rests on his shoulder.

"I've missed you, too. More than you know," Mayuri comforts you, rubbing circles on your back.

Tōshirō Hitsugaya: "What?" you mumble out, furrowing your eyebrows at your boyfriend.

"You heard me," Toshiro snaps at you and your breath shudders. Your stomach twists into uneasy knots as Toshiro starts to turn his back on you.

"You cannot be serious. You can't actually agree with that," you shake your head in disbelief.

"I do!" he turns back, facing you. His nostrils flare with anger and smoke practically hisses out his ears.

"This is someone's life we are talking about. It's a serious matter," you speak harshly, clenching your fists.

"I know that and I stand by my decision," Toshiro scoffs out, shaking his head. You chew on your bottom lip, tears welling up in your eyes.

"God, you are ice cold!" you raise your voice, echoing in the room. He scoffs quietly and rolls his eyes with annoyance.

"Whatever," he replies dryly. You clench your fists, your bottom lip start to bleed from how hard you're biting it. The hot tears sting your cheeks and Toshiro's gasps quietly.

"Stop. Stop it right now," Toshiro demands, marching up to you and grabbing onto your face.

"Stop, Toshiro!" you cry out, pressing your hands to his chest and pushing him away. He stumbles back slightly and he inhales sharply.

"I can't handle it when you cry, y/n. So, please, stop," he begs you with despair straining his voice. You glance over at him through your eyelashes and sniffle, wiping away at your wet face.

He steps forward and grabs onto your hand, interlacing your fingers. He pulls you closer to him and his free hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing over it.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbles out, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Kensei Muguruma: "So, you think I'm weak?" you scoff out, shaking your head with disbelief. Kensei glares over at you from his stance a few feet away from the bed that you're sitting on.

"I just can't believe that you got put away with such a move from your opponent. You weren't strong enough, y/n," Kensei comments with a careless tone.

"Are you serious? Is that actually how you feel about me?" you ask, your mouth gaping open.

You couldn't believe the words that were coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. They were hurtful and harsh.

"You know exactly how I feel," he retorts harshly and you chew on your bottom lip.

"You're right, I do now," you gulp, standing up from the bed. You rush over to the door and grab onto the handle.

"Where are you going?" Kensei sighs out, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know, just away from you. You obviously don't want to associate yourself with your weak girlfriend, right?" your voice wobbles as you glance over your shoulder at him, tears filled up to the brim of your eyes.

Kensei's expression slightly softens and he clears his throat. "That's not what I meant," he speaks with a careful tone and you roll your eyes with annoyance.

"No, it is and that's fine. I want you to be honest with me and you were. I'm not good enough for you, Kensei. You've made that clear," you demand and Kensei's eyes soften.

"What?" he scoffs out, shifting his weight. You blink and the tears start to roll down your cheeks. You sniffle and quickly wipe them away, but the tears keep coming.

Kensei rushes up to your side and grabs onto your shoulders, steadying you in front of him.

"No, y/n, that's not what I meant. I'm scared. I'm scared of losing you. I don't think you're weak, y/n. I think you are a very strong soul reaper, but I cannot lose you," Kensei explains with a soft voice and your eyes widen.

"Why didn't you just say that?" you sniffle out, your body rattling.

"You know me. I'm not good with expressing my feelings and emotions. I don't like to be vulnerable, but I try to be because of you."

You step forward and cup Kensei's cheeks. The hues of cheeks turn a bright pink and he gulps.

"I understand it now, Kensei. All you had to do was explain," you comment, smiling warmly.

"You make me a better person, y/n. Thank you," Kensei whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into the crook of your head.

Rojuro Otoribashi: Rojuro is always very careful with his words, but not this time. His words were mean and harsh. His eyes lock onto the tears dripping down your face and his eyes widen.

A frown tugs on his face and he walks over to you. His large hands cup your face and you sniffle, your body jolting.

"Y/N, are you okay? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," Rojuro shakes his head, thumb brushing your skin gently. You glance up at him, vision blurred because of the tears.

His thumb starts to brush away your wet tears and his eyes become soft. His blonde hair falls down into his face and your lips tremble.

"No, it's okay. I shouldn't be such a baby," you shake your head, trying to tug away from him, but his grip is too strong.

"Hey, no, it's okay. You're not a baby. I am so sorry for my choice of words and not being gentle with you. I promise to be more gentle with you," he speaks gingerly, fingers carefully pressing into your cheeks.

You gulp and nod your head as he leans his forehead against yours, smiling warmly.

Kisuke Urahara: After a big argument, Kisuke left the shop to be by himself for awhile. He enters the shop again and his eardrums fill with quiet sobbing.

His eyes widen and his breath hitches in his throat. He makes his way to the back of the shop where your room is. You're sitting on the ground, back pressed up against the wall and knees brought up to your chest.

He rushes over to your side and kneels down, arms wrapping around you and bringing you to his chest.

"Where did you go?" you mumble out between hiccups and sobs. A frown tugs on Kisuke's face and he clenches his jaw.

He's mad at himself. He shouldn't have left you after the argument, it was a horrible idea.

"I shouldn't have left the store. I just needed space, but I wasn't thinking about what you needed. I won't ever leave again, I promise," he reassures you, fingers brushing through your hair.

Izuru Kira: Your fists are clenched as your throat tightens up, tears welling up to the brims of your eyelids. Izuru lets out a heavy sigh, running his hands over his face with frustration.

He lifts his head up and his eyes lock onto you from across the room. You chew on your bottom lip, blood starting to spill out as you try not to cry.

"Whoa, hey, hey," he calls out, fear flooding his body as he rushes over to you. He grabs onto your shoulders and carefully pulls you closer to him.

He pulls you into your chest and you wrap your arms around his lower torso, tears staining his soul reaper uniform. His hand runs over your hair, brushing it down.

"There's no need to cry, y/n. I like you better when you're smiling and laughing," he comments and you let out a tiny chuckle.

"Me too," you mumble out, squeezing him.

Ikkaku Madarame: A gut wrenching sob leave your lips and Ikkaku gasps quietly. He leaps over to you and his arms wrap around your waist.

The two of you stumble around, falling back onto the bed.

"Oh, god. I'm sorry," his voice is filled with panic and worry. You gaze into his soft eyes and you let out a loud giggle, filling the room.

Ikkaku furrows his eyebrows and he stares at you in confusion. You bring up your hands and cup his cheeks, throwing your legs over his.

"I'm sorry for laughing. I just didn't expect to fall on the bed," you shrug your shoulders as his hands gently wipe away your wet tears.

"I love the sound of your laughter," he nuzzles his head into your chest, arms securely wrapping around your waist and squeezing you tightly.

The both of you forgot what you were even arguing about as you laugh and chat about the accidental fall.

Shuhei Hisagi: His blood runs cold as the tears drip down off your jawline and onto the ground.

"Y/N?" Shuhei calls out and your bottom lips quivers. You slowly shift your eyes up and meet his. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment and you gulp.

"I'm sorry," you mumble out, turning around and burying your face into the palms of your hands. He slowly walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist from behind.

He rests his chin on your shoulder and presses a kiss to your earlobe.

"Don't ever be sorry. I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have said those things, I'm sorry," he speaks tenderly as you lean back into his body.

You glance down at his hands, resting on your stomach and you place yours on his, letting out a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry, too. It was stupid to argue over something like that," you shake your head and Shuhei nods his head.

"I hate arguing with you," he admits and a smile tugs on your face. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your lips to his.

"Then let's stop arguing," you smile, kissing him softly.

332 notes · View notes