#THE TEARFUL PLEA BEFORE BETRAYAL?! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sh1-n0bu · 7 months

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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 7: threesome with sampo and gepard from hsr

warnings: threesome, dacryphillia, overstimulation, praise, handjob, oral (gepard receiving), fingering, squirting, voyeurism

notes: both characters are the subs. traditional momma nobu style

heavily inspired by @icaruien’s sub suguru fic!!! go check it out!!!!

never would have sampo expected himself to see the captain of the silvermane guards like this. the very same captain who diligently catches criminals left and right. the very same captain who keeps him on his toes. the very same captain who has fans and admirers of any age and gender.

the very same captain laid all bare on the bed as he cries and trashes about, moaning about how it was too much for him. he could see your hand working on his cock, angry red and weeping cum and pre from his slit and skillfully making the captain orgasm again on your hand. yet your hand doesn’t stop it’s ministration. if anything it only continues on with it’s former job, picking up the pace, making loud lewd squelching sounds alongside gepard’s whines to get louder in the dimly lit hotel room.

sampo recognized you. how could he not? you were one of the co-founders of the wildfire. a strong fighter, fearless leader and a great shoulder to lean on. the conman had a sort of a crush on you. you got his ass out of trouble many times without asking for anything back.

yet never would have sampo thought that he would see someone so professional and cold faced like yourself, here in the hotel room, making the captain of the silvermane guards whine and sob deliriously. he could feel his pants getting tighter by the sight, gulping down some of his saliva as gepard cries loudly only to be silenced by your lips.

was it wrong to watch? was it wrong to get hard from seeing the captain get absolutely debouched? was it wrong to.. wish that it was him there, being taken care of you instead of gepard?

“sampo” your voice suddenly calls out, catching the two men off guard. one was preparing apologies on being caught watching you get intimate with someone else while the other was burning up in shame but also arousal.

“come in here. i need your thought on something” you commanded, leaving no room for the conman to refuse as your hand stops fucking gepard’s weeping dick. swallowing, the blue haired man steps inside the hotel room as you ordered, locking the door behind himself.

seeing the captain being so red in the face, spread out all bare on the bed with tear stains on his cheeks and drool slipping from his lips made sampo all the more jealous. yet he doesn’t get it. why was sampo feeling jealous over gepard? you had no connection with him nor gepard. not that he knew off…

“our lovely captain here thinks that he can’t cum again but i say he can. what do you think? should i keep going and prove him wrong?” your voice calls out, snapping the thief from his daydreams of being the one instead of gepard.

briefly, the conman steals a glance towards gepard’s face and the two met eyes. he could see how deep down the captain had fallen into this hazy whirlwind of pleasure. there were tears gathering in his eyes, baby blue eyes looking all glazed over. fuck, sampo was hard.

“y-yes. i think he can. gepard has always been an overachiever, he can get another” the words are let out in an almost squeak of a voice, the one who said it trying to keep himself together while the one on the bed lets out a loud whine of betrayal.

smirking at sampo, you gently shush gepard’s whines. wiping away his tears with a gentleness the two never saw or heard of you before as you place a kiss to the captain’s forehead.

“sampo come here” the thief only nods. obeying your commands without a second thought. you give him another few sets of orders. getting on the bed, opening his mouth and to suck gepard off. sampo doesn’t know why but he follows along your orders.

“eeengk—! s-sampo! can’t… can’tcan’tcan’t—♡︎!” he could briefly hear gepard’s pleas as his thighs shut around his head, legs spasming and shaking violently from the former how many orgasms you’ve wrung out of the poor man.

you shush gepard’s cries with another kiss to his temple, before slipping a cum covered finger into his puckering hole. at that, gepard only trashes about even more, feeling the burning feeling in his stomach coil and tighten more.

“sampo, suck on his tip and press your tongue to the underside of his tip, okay?” you gently coo despite the two men whimpering and sobbing in the hotel room. oddly calm and collected even as gepard pleads for your mercy.

the thief does just as he’s told. sucking on gepard’s girthy tip, pressing his tongue to the vein on the underside. not too long after, gepard was squirting into his mouth with a loud keen.

aeons, if sampo was good enough would you do the same to him as well? if sampo got on your nerves enough, would you finger him? fucking his already weeping cock into your fist and make him squirt?

“you did good. both of you did good” you hum, pushing sampo’s head away and placing a kiss to gepard’s cheek gently. once the poor captain was taken care of and wiped clean with a warm towel, you turn to him with a certain glint in your eyes.

“i haven’t forgotten about you yet, pretty boy. pants down, on my lap” fuck, he could barely keep himself together before he’s stripping himself naked, climbing onto your lap with an eagerness of a puppy.

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007reid · 7 months

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187. spencer reid (18+)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you're dealing with a dumb, whiny boy and you are wondering where your boy genius went.

warnings: 18+, sub!spencer & dom!reader, dumbification, whining, whimpering, overstimulation, handjob, orgasm denial, begging..you know the rest ;)

a/n: this is a result of too much ai spencer tiktok edits....wrote in a rush on my phone late at night but that's how fanfiction are meant to be written. enjoy angels <3 requests are open if anyone want to drop by!

“okay spencer, this is an easy one. can you answer it for me baby?" you pause expectantly, and it takes him a while, but spencer only mewls in response, frustrated. "what states are next to louisiana?”

you see spencer’s eyebrows slowly pent up in thought but then he immediately gives up in lieu of letting out another pathetic moan, bucking up uselessly to your fingers. “answer the question baby," you prod sweetly, kissing your words into his cheek.

“i-hnfgg…” he pants breathlessly, eyes shut tight and when they flutter open, they are round with plead. “please, it hurts so bad, please let me cum i—“

you let go of his cock entirely and he whines, trying to shuffle closer so that you would touch him. in response you move away further, smirk at your lips. “be a good boy for me and i will.”

“i am being a good boy for you!” spencer whines, his eyes blown with need and watering, body writhing pathetically against the sheets. his dick is flushed an angry red and you know he’s only several strokes away from coming undone, being so closely attuned to your boy. “i’m being good i—“ his words hitched in his throat as you gently caress only the tip of his cock, teasing.

“the good boy i remember is super smart,” you slide up to him, pressing a leering kiss on his jaw. “the guy has an iq of 187. can you believe that? how rare is that?”

spencer doesn’t answer, his pleas and whines soft and stuck in his throat as he keeps trying to buck up his hips to get more of your touch, but with no avail. “hm? how rare is it spence?”

“i don’t know!” he cries, tears leaking and wetting his pretty lashes. “i—please it hurts so bad, just please let me cum i’ll do anything, please!”

“answer me and i’ll let you cum baby boy,” you say smoothly, removing your hand from him (which elicited a very impatient groan) to spit on your palm before going back again, moving your hand up and down his shaft deliberately slow. you know it drives him crazy, even crazier than he is right now and you soak in the satisfaction of it. “how many people has your kind of genius spence? hm?" you add encouragingly. "get this one right for me and i’ll let you cum baby.”

“i…uhh….” he's slow, and even slower with your hand working and overstimulating his already-sensitive cock. “one out of every hundred million people. 1000 who ever lived,” he finally decides to peel open his eyes again, searching your face for any hint of approval. as a response you flick up your wrist quickly and he nods his head back, an obscene and needy moan coming out of his mouth.

“and the states surrounding louisiana?”

his head snaps back immediately and stares at you in betrayal, like a kid being scammed out of his cookie, completely flustered and debauched. “you said one question!”

“i changed my mind baby,” you soothe, pressing an apology kiss in the corner of his mouth. “the faster you are the faster you get to cum. do you want to cum honey?”

“yes! yes i wanna cum so bad,” he cries, hands coming up to rest lightly at your waist and you can feel the tremble in them. the heavy feeling at the pit of his stomach has been there for at least half an hour now and you’ve just been toying with it, reliving it then bringing the pressure back. now he’s an absolute mess, curly hair sprayed on the pillow and stuck to his forehead, his pretty, delicate face ruined with tear stains, but it just makes him prettier. he’s completely at your mercy, writhing and whimpering and begging you to do something about his looming orgasm and you denying him of it.

“then answer the question baby boy,” you murmur encouragingly in his ear, fingers still teasing him. he’s so sensitive and overstimulated to the point that a single touch can make his entire body jump, so you are careful. too much and he might actually loose it, and you both know this. “you remember it, right spence?” you press, "the question?"

“hnngg,” he whimpers when you start biting on the lobe of his ear, grabbing and squeezing onto the sheets for dear life. “umm…arkansas and… i-i don’t know,” he admits shamefully, then desperately tries to make up for it. “but i got the first one! you said if i get it i could cum. i’ve been such a good boy for you, just this one time, please!” he begs, not in control of what he says anymore and it shows. he’s completely delirious and fucked stupid, and you take pity on him.

“aww, my sweet boy,” you coo sweetly, running your fingers through his messy mop of hair and pulling it away from his face for him. “i’m sorry angel, but if you can’t get it right, you don’t get to cum,” you whisper faux apologetically in his ear. you see when spencer’s eyes widen with horror, and the tears begins to fall freely.

“please,” he begs, his fingers pleadingly reaching out to try to touch you, convince you to change your mind. it’s a foolish and naive attempt, and he knows it too but can’t help taking his chances. he’s desperate for anything. “please, i’ll be so good for you. i’ll be your best boy. i promise. i swear. it hurts so bad y/n please, i cant take it—“

“fine,” you give in, only because you know for a fact that he can't last any longer. really, you're surprised he's managed to make it this long so far; you had already planned his punishment in your mind. your boy deserves his reward.

you speed up your movements and the sounds coming out of his mouth becomes wanton, sobs becomes louder and his whines a pitch higher and he’s strung high like a violin string, ready to snap. “cum for me, pretty boy.”

at your command his body gives out obediently, thick strings of cum spitting out of his cock, painting your hand and his hips, coating at his thighs. he twitches and his thighs tremble weakly as small blurts of cum starts to collect at the tip of his cock and you kiss him during all of it as he cries against your lips. he pants hard, and when you accidentally swipe a finger over him, he whines painfully and inches out the way, sore. when it’s over, he collapses into you, spent.

“thank you,” he says, sounding genuinely grateful, his voice muffled and his face buried in your shoulder. you laugh, fingers smoothing out the mess of his hair, pulling his head back and pressing kisses all over his face. spencer needs the aftercare, especially after being edged on for so long, needs the love and the assurance and the cuddles afterwards. "i love you."

"and i you," you say, smiling when he whines predictably, unsatisfied.

"you gotta say the whole thing," he says, looking mildly upset, lips jutting out and giving you the fattest, most foul and adorable pout, eyes big and searching.

"'m sorry," you weave your fingers with his, and he presses a kiss against your knuckles. "i love you."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #dr spencer reid #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer #my works

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stairain · 1 month

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Double-Edged Sword

The only way Spencer is allowed to fuck you is to wear a strap-on.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, strap-on (he’s wearing it!), vibrator, riding, crying, slapping, erectile dysfunction, female orgasm, male orgasm, degradation, self-doubt.

WC: 1.6K

The poor man was already in tears by the time you had buckled him into the harness. Weak pleads for you to show some semblance of mercy as you pull the dark leather tight against his trembling thighs.

“Please, please ‘m sorry.”

Spencer cries out as he shamefully looks down at the strap-on that’s replaced his own aching cock. He’d been bad, of course, but this was pure cruelty.

Ignoring his pleads, you wrap your lips around the head of the fake cock, the cold silicone shining against the wet buds of your tongue.

His eyebrows furrow in envy, wishing to replace the toy instead of the vice versa he's found himself in.

"Please, it's not fair.."

Spencer's voice trails off as you shamelessly stroke the dildo as if it were real. Using your circled fist, you wet the toy with a droplet of your spit and jerk it off.

And despite his envy, he wishes so desperately that he could get hard. You’d locked his poor cock in a wretched metal cage, the cold silver bars preventing him from reaching even half mast.

His thighs tremble from around your head, and you coo pitifully at him, your hand still torturously wrapped around the strap.

“Poor thing, sit down, will you?”

Your voice beckons to him, raising your chin a bit as you gently push him back until his legs hit the bed frame.

With a frustrated huff, he sits down against the soft comforter as you climbs atop him. His eyes shine with tears and pleas for you to stop whatever this punishment is.

The pupils reading apologies and lines of ‘I learned my lesson’ that you had no interest in.

Pulling your panties to the side, you rub the sensitive bud of your clit over the artificial head of the cock that was everything but him.

“Can you feel how wet I am?”

You taunt, looking Spencer right in those sad eyes filled with betrayal and jealousy. With your lips parted in soft sighs, you reach past him to retrieve the box that had contained the strap-on.

Your hand rustles in the cardboard for a moment, before you pull out a small controller no larger than your palm. Spencer swallowed thickly and tried to reason with you one last time.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.. Please just—“

A loud buzzing cuts him off, and his words plummet into a strained whine. Throwing his head back, a few tears run down his temples.

As you grind your soaked folds against the tip, the double-sided toy was pressed right against the thin bars of his chastity cage.

Spencer’s thighs squeezed together as the pain of not being able to get hard and the constant whirring of the vibrator quickly overwhelmed him.

He lets out a slacked-jaw moan as the metal against his shaft shakes as frantically as his body. And you relish in the sight as you sink down onto thick, hard silicone.

You lean into the crook of his neck and press wet kisses against the sweaty skin, beginning to lift yourself up and down in his lap.

“You feel so good, Spence.”

You whisper in his ear, and he’s quick to turn his head away from you in the same kind of bratty manner that got him into this situation in the first place.

He’s breathing heavily out of his nose, trying his hardest not to make any more noises. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing how badly he wished it was him you were riding so fervently.

You hadn’t fucked him like this in a while, his chest ached slightly at the thought. Your drenched cunt greedily swallowing the whole toy in ways that he couldn’t help but tear up in envy over.

He missed when it was his cock that was being coated in that slick layer of white that you so easily granted to a stupid toy.

The brunet was snapped out of his jealous fantasy when you’re turning up the vibration on his toy. His eyes involuntarily roll into the back of his skull and his mouth can’t help but unhinge to let out a loud whimper.

The fake cock was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that only Spencer was allowed to find, and you grin evilly as you grab his loose jaw and force him to look at you.

You’re just as sweaty as he is, but your eyes aren’t filled with remorse like his are.

“See what happens when you act out?”

You rhetorically ask before you slap him across his already red cheeks. His head quickly turns with the force, and he lets out a quiet gasp.

Grabbing his jaw again, you’re quick to reprimand him once more.

“Thinking you can misbehave and still get what you want.”

You slap his face in the opposite direction and feel the tracks of tears that coat his face.

As you circle your hips and ride the strap even faster, all it takes is one look and he knows you’re close. He shakes his head and tries to speak, but he just can’t.

He doesn’t want a toy to make you finish, that should be him. It should be his cock that you’re grinding so hard on, his length that you should be tightening around, and his tip that should be stamping into your spot.

But instead, he’s forced to watch with a flaccid cock and heavy balls as you throw your head back and cum around slickened silicone.

Your release leaks around the dildo and onto his thighs, and that’s the only semblance of your pleasure he’s been allowed to feel. As your slick drips down his skin, tears stream down his face.

And that stupid vibrator underneath his cock is unrelenting, he’s so turned on but can’t do a thing about it.

With a heaving chest and lowered eyelids, you lift yourself up off his lap.

The toy bobs with the freedom from your cunt and dribbles with the pleasure of your orgasm.

Spencer’s absolutely breathless as you lower yourself onto your knees in front of him. Strands of his hair stick to his face, and he can barely muster up the courage to look you in the eye.

Your face is a blur to him as you lick up your release from the fake cock, wrapping your wet lips around the shaft and swallowing your own slick.

With a whimper, he closes his eyes and prays for this to be over. You’ve made your point, he’s easily replaceable, he needs to get his shit together.

But you’re not nearly done with him, not as you’re undoing the straps of leather as you suck off his replacement.

You release the harness from his body and let it drop to the floor. The incessant buzzing from the toy still ringing in the air, taunting him.

The dual purpose toy had given everything to you, and he’d gotten nothing out of it. He was nothing without you, and you could have everything without him.

Spencer’s head is clouded with sexual frustration and self disgust alike as you make quick work of fetching the key to his dear chastity cage.

Twisting the small key into the lock, the cage becomes undone and you pull it off of him.

But even as you discard the contraption, his soft cock lay before you in a pathetic display of uselessness.

With gentle hands, you reach out to cup his small bulge. There’s a sick smile on your face as you pour up at him.

“Look at you.. How could you have ever made me feel as good as that toy did?”

He huffs and tries his best to reason with you. He was certain he was better than that toy, he just couldn’t prove it.

“I can.”

He says matter of factly, but as you nestle his lack of erection, he’s proven himself inferior. There’s an excuse dying on the tip of his tongue the moment he gets distracted by the soft caresses you deal to his flaccid length.

It feels so good, but he simply couldn’t get hard. The cage had rendered him useless for your pleasures.

“It’s okay, Spence. We can just use the strap from now on..”

You softly murmur as you run your thumb against the soft head of his cock. The pathetic little thing leaks a drop of sticky precum, and you swirl it around as you can physically feel his refusal to your suggestion.

“N-No. I’m better than that thing, please..”

He whines gently, having been broken down by whatever mind games you’ve played with him.

Maybe the toy was better than him. At least it stayed hard, and at least it wasn’t about to cum from just a few soft touches.

There’s a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, and a tingling in his pathetic little cock that he simply can’t ignore.

Spencer tries his absolute hardest to hold out, but before you’ve even got a chance to rebuttal his pleads, a shaky moan forces its way from his throat as he spills over your thumb and pointer finger.

As hot droplets of cum coat your fingers, you sigh almost disappointingly and watch as his release covers his soft length.

“‘M sorry, I’m sorry.”

He pitifully whispers as his entire body trembles with the aftershocks of a sorry excuse for an orgasm.

The toy that resides the role of his rival mocks him. Vibrating gently against the wooden floors that his sticky ribbons drip onto.

You stand up slowly and press a kiss against his tear stained cheek, knowing that he’d be on his best behavior from here on out.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer #sub spencer reid x reader #sub spencer #sub spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid x reader smut

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hidden-snow · 2 months

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✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈ＲｕｎｎｉｎｇＨｏｍｅｔｏＹｏｕ〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,694

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

You know the soul-shattering feeling of your heart physically breaking?

That’s what was happening at this very moment. Acid tears, so hot that you’re convinced that your face is melting off, slid down your cheeks in rivers and burned your eyes as they spilled out. Your ears are ringing so loud and high-pitched, you can’t really even hear his words.

You’re pretty sure you’re pleading for him to stay by the fact that your lips are moving. His face pinches slightly in guilt as he listens to your pleas, though you know, as he squeezes your hands, your words are falling upon deaf ears. You grip his hands tightly to keep him here, with you, just a little bit longer, trying to make this moment stretch out as much as you could make it.

All you know is that your heart is breaking rapidly, you’re a sobbing, sweating, shaking mess in front of your yawne, and there’s a rapidly growing lump in the back of your throat that you can’t seem to swallow down, no matter how hard you try.

He looks at you quietly, searching your face, before squeezing your hands once more, gently. He leans down, lips to your ears, and he whispers out a quick “I’m sorry” before pulling out of your grasp.

And then, he was gone, leaving you to pick up the shattered, splintered shards of your glass heart all alone.

»»——⍟——««

That was three years ago. Three years ago, you were left to learn how to live a life without Neteyam to light your path and your world. Three years to find a new center of gravity for your world to revolve around. And you did.

You threw yourself into your training, working hard to become the best hunter and warrior the Omaticaya had ever seen. It kept your mind busy and your heart intact.

The clan expected you to move on from the unexpected incident that would forever leave you wondering what you could’ve done wrong, but you hadn’t.

Not yet.

Three years and the pain of his betrayal was still just as raw and bitter as the day he’d chosen to leave you behind. You used to dream of him, dream of the moments you’d had with him. Over time, they’d turned to nightmares of him never coming back, leaving you to grow old by yourself. After that, your nightmares worsened, showing your worst fears to you at night; Neteyam coming back different. Different appearance, different personality, different everything. Those ones always left you curled up in a fetal position, sobbing into your hands in the morning.

At first, men tried to sway your stone cold heart, convinced that they had a chance with you now that the olo’eyktan’s son and your best friend was gone. Eventually, though, the attempts slowed, trickling down to a dry riverbed of looks and whispers pointed your way.

You watched as people your age, the people who grew up alongside you, settled down and began to have families of their own. That life looked nice, peaceful and comfortable, but it wasn’t the life for you.

Your parents tried to talk to you, to find a suitable mate that could mend your heart in ways that only Neteyam could. There were times you’d lay awake at night, listening to their hushed whispers as they tried to figure out a way to help you move on from your tragic breakup.

It was a pity they didn’t have any other children to provide them the grandchildren they longed for.

And then, in a blaze of glory and fancy, excitement-filled celebrations, he was back. After three years, he was back.

Taller, with broad shoulders and a grin that could melt hearts, Neteyam looked different and familiar all at the same time. Tattoos covered one side of chest and his shoulder as well as some of his face. His hair was the same, thin small braids, but some of the braids were pulled back into a bun at the back of his skull.

The moment he’d seen you, he tried to approach and you’d fled, unable to face the one person who could destroy everything you’d built in his absence.

You’d found a place that was private, safe from the eyes as well as the ears of others, offering you the safety to shed the tears that had been burning at the corners of your eyes.

You couldn’t help the burning suspicion that the village had planned this, that they had known he was coming back and they’d purposefully hid this revelation from you. As if they were expecting you to be wooed off your feet if you’d been taken by surprise. Their own planned romantic story.

It was a turmoil of emotions to try and process and, in order to address your emotions, you did the one thing that usually helped you focus and calm down; hunting.

By the time you got back to the path leading towards the village, the sun had already set in the sky, night taking over the forest, bioluminescent flora and fauna lighting your path as you walked.

You couldn’t help but slow your steady pace, despite the heavy yerik resting over your shoulders, as you marveled at the beauty of your home. Neon blues, greens, purples, and pinks glowed all around you, surrounding you, and it further built up the peace that had settled in your mind.

“You look beautiful right now, Y/n. I’d forgotten how perfect you looked when you were at peace.”

At the sound of the masculine voice, you spin around, dropping the yerik in the process in order to swap it out for the blade that sat at your waist.

Your eyes meet gentle, adoring golden eyes, and a smile pulls at his perfect lips. Despite the smile, the raise of his non-existent eyebrow pulls at his face, making him look more questioning than anything.

“What do you want, Neteyam?” you ask, trying to force yourself to be civil. Just because he broke your heart into a million tiny places, trampling on it and spitting on it by leaving you, it didn’t mean your parents hadn’t raised you to be polite.

Even to assholes like him.

“Mawey yawne,” he hums softly, moving closer, and you instinctively step back, keeping the same amount of space between him and yourself. Your hand continued to grip the handle of your knife tightly, prepared to stab and run if you needed to.

A perplexed expression crosses his face and, for just a split second, his smile dropped into a curious look.

“I am not your yawne. You lost that nickname when you left me,” you spat back at him and he let out a long sigh, deep and tired, as if he was dealing with a fussy, stubborn child, rather than a fellow adult.

You cross your arms, tapping your foot slightly. You have no patience for him. When, once before, you’d enjoy dancing around topics, swapping playful banter and loving nicknames, you just want to be left alone now.

“Alright. What would you prefer I call you, if not yawne?”

“Just address me as you have. My name is perfectly fine for the likes of you. Now, why do you harass me? It’s not like you cared much before.”

He turns his head away, looking towards the village, before meeting your eyes again.

“I didn’t see you at supper. I got worried, so I came to wait for your return.”

“How thoughtful,” you bit back, gathering up your yerik. When he moved to help, you slap his hands away and shove past him to continue up the trail towards home.

How ironic that he worried about your safety now, considering how little he cared before. It was almost as if Eywa had a twisted sense of humor, putting him in situations that mirrored the one before and guiding him to react in a different way. As if trying to make your dreams come back to life.

This time, though, you weren’t going to fall for the act. After all, it was just an act. Nothing more and nothing less. You hadn’t meant enough to him then. You certainly mean nothing to him now.

»»——⍟——««

He hadn’t meant to scare you off. Watching you disappear along the path with your game slung over your shoulders, his gaze traveled down your spine, towards your rounded ass that bounced with step in your elegant stride.

A lot had changed, he realized, with you. Three years had not only seen you out of your awkwardly adorable childhood and into the elegance of a fully blossomed woman, but also had seen the change of your personality.

Whereas before, you’d been sweet, bouncy, and optimistic, you now carried yourself with a calmness that spoke of just how proud you were of yourself. Nothing could throw you off, nor could it stop you from being so damn independent. Had it really changed you that much when he’d chosen to go with his family to the reef people?

Where had that sweet girl gone?

Poking his tongue out, he licked at his lips before following after you, keeping enough distance between you and himself that you wouldn’t realize he was following you. Try as he might, he could never forget you and, convinced that you would immediately allow him to sweep you off of your feet, he’d come back.

Was he obsessed with you?

Definitely.

Had he always been obsessed with you? There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he had been.

There was never a day that he didn’t think about you, about the way you looked up at him with such large, adoring eyes. The way your voice seemed to float like the clouds, soft like a song just waiting to be sung.

Before, you were smaller, just hitting puberty, with a thin waist and small frame. Now, you were a full fledged woman, curves in all the right places, with thick black hair that tumbled down your back and over your shoulders in curly waves.

You were beautiful then and now. And he was never going to let you go again.

#avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar fandom #avatar fics #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fic #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fluff #neteyam angst #running home to you series

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vandal-flower · 6 months

Text

Light and Death

Requested.

Yandere!Hades x Reader

Warnings: Manipulation, kidnapping, feelings of guilt, betrayal.

Notes: I was casually letting this just mold in my drafts. I took reference on Hades 'n Persephone, to make the story 🤌.

"(Name), have I ever told you about how much I loved you?", asked Hades, the infamous King of the Underworld.

"No, but there is no need in telling me that my king. I already know you love me.", you answered, with a flustered look on your face.

"But I would love to tell you. To tell you how I would do anything for you, and anything to have you for myself."

"Anything to have me?"

"Anything my beloved."

That was a conversation you had a few months back with Hades. You often look back on it, and wonder if he was lying. His brother, Zeus was infamous for his various affairs. And in some cases, Poseidon as well. But no one is bold enough to speak about it - in fear of being skewered to death. And even Apollo had a few cases of these said affairs.

To your mother, that was more than enough evidence that the gods in the Greek Pantheon were absolutely scum. They only act solely on their desires and nothing else.

But Hades is different. Hades was different in your eyes.

Sure, he was terrifying at first, but he's kind, caring, loving, and...

Well, you could go on about how he great he is.

According to him, many maidens wished to have his hand but were fearful since he rules the Underworld. Not the beautiful seas, or the bright sky like his brothers. Aphrodite suggested that she could match him up with someone, but he kindly declined the offer.

He said he wanted to find his one true love, unlike the other gods who just pick up a 'suitable' partner for the moment and call it a day.

What he said months ago was running through your mind. He would do anything for you, he would do absolutely anything to have you. It made your heart flutter.

Those were the thoughts you had those few months ago.

You were currently lying in bed - in a bed that wasn't yours. Beside you was the King of the Underworld himself. Hades.

His arms were wrapped around you tightly, but gave enough space to let you breathe. But also that ensured you couldn't get yourself out of his grasp.

He looks so majestical when sleeping, you note to yourself. It reminds you of the time he had kidnapped you, taking you for himself. He looked just as beautiful, if not more beautiful. It's hard to admit it, but it's the truth. You found him beautiful even when he committed such act.

You recall how he took your trust and used it against you. He used it to lock you in the Underworld with him. Those secret meetings with him, those precious moments filled your stomach with guilt.

You went behind your mother's back just to see him. She must be worried sick. Devastated. You feel like a hypocrite. Hades used your trust, and you used your mother's trust.

You miss her. Her smile, her laugh - even her torturous long lectures. You were able to see her.

Before you even realize, tears have already fallen out of your eyes. The droplets stain the bed beneath you and some drop onto Hades' arm, causing him to wake up.

He sits up and tries to comfort you, wiping your tears and whispering sweet words in your ears. But it's all nothing to you.

"I want to go home.", you mutter, hoping that he would listen to your pleas. Hoping he still has a heart after what he has done to you.

He pauses for a moment, as if contemplating if he should fulfill your request, wondering if he would get something in return. "My beloved, home is where the heart is. You belong in my heart, so it's only right for you to live with me."

"But, I want to see my mother. She's worried about me. She has to know where I am, she-"

Hades interrupts by placing his finger on your lips, silencing you.

"Your mother needs, time to process the situation at hand before you can go see her, my dear. So please, dry your tears and go to sleep."

"What situation?", you ask, confused at his words.

"I'll tell you in the morning.", he answers.

"But, there isn't any light in the Underworld, just darkness and death.", you urge.

"Exactly, I'll tell you when the time comes."

Ngl, there is not bad picture of Hades. Every one is just beautiful.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #ror hades #snv hades #yandere record of ragnarok #yandere shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror yandere hades #snv yandere hades #vandal-flower

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konigsblog · 24 days

Note

mooooore of kidnapper konig lying abt his age!! he’s just obsessed and loves her so much 💔

at your order, anon !! plenty of sickening and disturbing thots™️ plaguing my mind with this concept. :( 🩸

CW: DARK CONTENT. KIDNAPPING, NON-CON/RAPE, AGE DIFFERENCE/GAP, MANIPULATION, VIRGINITY LOSS. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. MDNI 18+

a continuation of fifty-year-old könig who lies about his age to get with a younger woman. 🖥️

it was too easy for the depraved man. you're naive, and your vulnerability is almost laughable. it's as if you haven't learned a thing about internet safety when you decide to meet up with an older man, believing he's in his mid-twenties.

he's a depraved bastard, a complete loser who hasn't had pussy in nearly a decade due to his disturbing, uncomfortable, manipulative behaviour. the yearn to ruin your body and life intensifying each day.

könig senda you a location—the place he plans to take what is rightfully his. it's a discreet and quiet area, far from civilization. you send könig multiple text messages asking if he gave you the right address, anxious as you take a good look at your surroundings, all alone, or so you think.

too distracted while waiting for a response from the man you'd been talking to and falling for, you didn't pay attention to the sounds of the leaves crunching beneath hard military-issued boots, thumping footsteps becoming louder and louder. your eyes widen, realising it is far too late to react and run. you wail out through horror, attempting to free yourself—a fruitless attempt at prying könig's filthy hands from your body—before you're knocked unconscious by his gloved face.

your vision is hazy and blurry, and you can't see anything as you're awoken. you babble through confusion, realising your sounds are hushed by a ballgag and you're unable to move, the gag stifling your sounds of agony, discomfort, and betrayal. your limbs are tied with thick rope, keeping you from squirming away from his sick and twisted attempt at ‘love’.

you tremble and thrash, hyperventilating and sobbing out, the feeling of könig rutting against your swollen, slick folds leaving you petrified and unable to comprehend what's happening. you'd told him during your conversations that you were a virgin and that you wanted to lose it to him. the news left könig bubbling with excitement and anticipation, the thought of being your first leaving his fat, meaty cock hard. you were beginning egretting your promise to allow him to take you, his frustration visible at the sounds of your pain, ache, and refusal to be quiet.

könig leans himself down onto you, his heavy bodyweight against your weak body leaving you unable to move and unable to catch your breath. you shake and whine out, wailing pathetically with each drag and thrust, the agonising sensation between your soft, bloodied thighs. he's merciless and violent—nothing like the soft, kind-hearted man he portrayed himself to be.

the entire time he degrades and shames you for being so stupid and ridiculous and for getting yourself into this mess. his large hand around your neck restricts your breathing as you splutter and mumble out a plea for gentleness, at the very least. you notice the wrinkles on his face and the scars along his large, burly, overweight body, looking nothing like the photos he put on his dating app profile. there's nothing you can do to free yourself from this form of hell and torture.

what are you supposed to do afterwards? the rope burns on your skin cause your skin to become sensitive; the slightest touch to the bruises and marks along your body is painful, nipping at your marked skin. your tears stain your gorgeous, pure face, squirming away from his touch when he tries to cup your jaw, the softness of your skin representing your youth, before being bruised with a hit from könig, furious at your resentment.

you're a quiet, shaken-up, traumatised thing for könig to abuse and use for his own selfish gratification and delectation. the need and crave for power and control and to corrupt and warp a mind like yours, so pliant.

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soap-ify · 6 months

Text

soap x fem! reader

soap acts mean with you after he caught you humping your teddy while he was out

wc 1.6k

cw degradation, spanking, p in v, pussy slaps, implied dacryphilia ??, orgasm denial, basically johnny being a meanie who loves mocking your voice (neil reference!!)

notes guys i only uses like little scottish vocab because i'm SCARED to try and write a scottish accent, buy i will surely do it in the future !! just don't wanna butcher it right now.

18+ under cut, mdni.

"johnny! please, i'm so close!"

johnny's voice rang in the bedroom, laced with mockery while he purposely tried to make it high-pitched enough to mimic your voice. a wolfish grin adorned his lips as he watched you struggle on top of your teddy pink, your hips twitching and grinding clumsily, you being bare except that shirt you were wearing — which you had seemingly borrowed from him.

"f-fuck you..." you would sob out, your voice nothing but sweet despite the frustration lingering on it.

it all had started off when johnny had caught you humping on your teddy like the needy little thing you are, loud moans leaving your lips. he had just came back home from buying some groceries, and you just couldn't control your needs for a few hours, could you?

you were an embarrassed mess once you had spotted him from the corner of your eyes as he stood at the door of your shared bedroom, his royal blue eyes watching you in amusement. you were quick to hop off your teddy and cover your botton half with a blanket, cheeks all pink whilst excuses and babbles left your lips. "sorry, johnny... didn't mean to! got so needy i just..." you whined in embarrassment, all frustrated and needy from not reaching your climax, yet somewhat ashamed at the same time for being caught.

"tch, such a naughty lil' lass you are." he clicked his tongue and folded his arms, feigning betrayal as a frustrated pout adorned his lips. "havin' fun all without me?" he grumbled under his breath, taking heavy long steps towards the bed, his eyes darkening up a bit.

"go on. why did ya stop, bonnie? don't want me watchin' you?"

that's how you found yourself back on your cute big teddy, arms slung around the big head as you tried to steady yourself, tired legs trembling whilst your wet, aching cunt rubbed against the teddy's torso, your lips letting out soft whimpers.

"oh, come on. my baby wasn't moaning so quietly earlier." johnny chuckled and playfully delivered a gentle smack on your plush ass, his fingers kneading onto the soft flesh before letting it go, callused hands grabbing your waist and lifting you up your teddy with ease.

he was quick to flip you on your stomach and pin your down on the bed, straddling you from above. "fuckin' naughty lass, can't even fuck the poor teddy properly." he clicked his tongue, feigning frustration as his hands moved from your waist and back to your ass, right hand raising up to deliver a harsh slap that was enough to make you sob and bury your face in the soft plush of the pillows.

"what happened to oh please, johnny! or wanna cum so bad!, eh?" he sneered, using that high pitched voice of his once again. he had this sick habit of always mocking your moans and pleas, loving the way you would hide your face in embarrassment while your eyes would tear. you didn't mind it tho, did you? it was all fun, and in the end, he loved you too much to actually hurt your feelings.

"sorry... just want you so bad, can't think anymore..." you would babble in between your sniffles, head turning back a bit to look at him with those teary eyes of yours that were enough to make him melt internally.

"poor baby." he cooed, leaning down to press soft kisses on the back of your neck, your brain going all mushy at the sudden affection. "can't do it on your own, mmh? only need your johnny's cock, right?" he whispered lovingly, that familiar condescending tone lacing his words, making your hips twitch in his grasp.

you were such a mess right now, your ass stinging from the slaps whilst your cunt was a big wet mess, thighs quivering in need while tears streaked your cheeks, your hands grasping onto your teddy and pulling it next to you so you could cuddle it. "please, johnny..." you sobbed quietly, squirming impatiently beneath his weight.

johnny rolled his eyes, pretending to be exhausted of your pleas as he gripped your waist and flipped you on your back, eliciting a surprised squeek from your lips. "actin' like a bitch in heat." he clicked his tongue, his hand quick to snake down to palm your slippery cunt, his thumb pressing down on your clit. his cock was throbbing in his jeans, aching to be free though he resisted the urge, for now.

his fingers would gently dip into your folds to collect the slick precum, slowly spreading it all over your cunty. he was just filthy like that, loved painting everything in your slick. just as you thought he was going to be gentle and take care of you, his raised his hand to gently slap your needy cunt, causing you to squirm in surprise, thick tears rolling down your cheeks.

"this is what you get for not being good and touching yourself without me, m'eudail." he growled in your ear, royal blue eyes flicking up and down your splayed out body — taking in the sight of your tear-streaked face and messy hair, the shirt - his shirt that you were wearing now all hiked up to reveal your tummy, your spread out legs and your flushed cunt. such a messy thing, all for him.

"s'okay, bonnie. gonna make you feel so good that you will forget 'bout anythin' else that could give you pleasure." he grinned cheekily, hands impatiently undoing his jeans, tugging him down alongside his boxers to reveal his cock — a nice length of 7.5 inches, curved and uncut, and oh fuck was it girthy.

his hands would guide your knees to press up against your chest, your hands immedietly supporting your thighs, cheeks flushed in embarrassment while your whole cunt was in full display. "fuckin' gorgeous." he hissed, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your pouty lips before he pulled back and pressed the raging swollen tip of his cock against the entrance of your heat, causing you to gasp and tense up.

"ssh, relax. s'gonna feel so good." he whispered gently, a stark contrast from his earlier mean behavior. he would press kisses on your temple to calm you down, a shy smile forming on your lips as your sniffled, a shaky sigh leaving your lips.

"i love you..." you mumbled out softly, your hands holding onto the back of your thighs tight whilst your teddy was still snugged by your side. johnny would slowly slide his cock into your cunt, feeling your walls instantly tightening around his girth. despite his earlier actions of degrading you, he was very gentle when he was pushing himself in, not wanting to cause any wounds. all sweet, just for you.

"i love you too, lass." he grunted out, hands moving from your knees before he pressed both elbows of his above your shoulders, caging you. "fuck... just like that. so perfect f'me..." he groaned into your ear, face nuzzling into your neck while you felt his stubble tickling your sweaty skin. once his cock was all snug cozy inside your warm, comfy cunt, he began to slowly thrust in and out, hips move in an experienced manner. you both were quite the noisy onea, him grunting and groaning in your ears while you were whimpering and moaning in his ears, your eyes fluterring ship whilst your legs were wide spread. this position made his public hair grind against your clit, causing you to twitch in pleasure.

your ass was all red from his earlier smacks, all marked up by him. no damn teddy could make you cum, only him. was he really being fussy over a teddy? yes. but he couldn't help it! you were only his. his eyes would send glares to the teddy besides you before they focused back on your face, watching your brows knit in pure pleasure as his cock hit the spongy spots inside you, slamming against your cervix whilst stretching your cute cunt out — creating a nice mix of pain and pleasure that you just loved.

his pelvis continued to grind against your throbbing clit whilst his cock fastened up its pace, ramming into your cunt. your legs trembled with each deep thrust while he practically fucked your brain out, your leaking cunt tightening around him. "need to cum, please...!" you sobbed out, feeling the familiar knots tightening up in your stomach.

as soon as you were about to reach your orgasm, johnny stilled inside your cunt, slowly pulling out. you whined in surprise, teary eyes widening in disbelief as you saw a familiar mean grin forming on his lips once again, panting softing. "heh, not so fast, bonnie." he breathed out heavily, his hand giving his throbbing cock a few more strokes before thick strings of cum oozed out of his cock, spraying over your tummy and thighs.

you could only stay still and cry softly while your mean boyfriend denied you your orgasm while cumming all over you, a hoarse chuckle leaving his lips.

"bad lasses don't get to cum. now why don't you beg in that cute whiny voice of yours, eh? then i might reconsider."

#soap brainrot tonight #guys its like 3 am i cant #when neil ellice does that girly voice to mimic the fans... OH GOD.#mean soap truther #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #mw2 #soap mw2 #cod smut #rurufic

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sadnymi · 12 days

Text

「 ✦ No time to die. ✦ 」

Tom riddle x reader

Summary: Blind devotion. That's what it had been. For years, I'd been hopelessly enamored with Tom Riddle, his charm and intellect blinding me to the crimson flags that fluttered in the periphery. I ignored the whispers, the unease that gnawed at the edges of my comfort. He was Tom, my Tom, and love, I believed, conquered all.Then, the truth shattered my carefully constructed world. I stumbled upon his darkest secret , But even with the truth laid bare, the question remained: would he let me go?

Warnings: smut ,angst,strong language

Words:3,7k

The crisp autumn air whipped at my cheeks as I practically skipped back to Tom's.We'd spent the past year inseparable, and it was the happiest I'd ever been. He was everything I ever dreamed of – My entire life felt like a love letter to Tom Riddle.

Reaching the front door, a surge of anticipation bubbled up inside me. I fumbled with my key, eager to surprise Tom with my return. As I pushed the door open, the sound of hushed voices drifted from the sitting room. My smile faltered.

One voice, Tom's, smooth and familiar, the other, sharper, belonged to Avery. Curiosity tugged at me, so I tiptoed closer, pressing my ear against the partially closed door.

"Don't go soft now, Tom," Avery drawled. "We all know she's just part of your plan, right?"

A cold dread slithered down my spine. "She's useful, Avery," Tom replied, his voice devoid of the warmth he usually reserved for me. "She's the brightest witch in her year, and her understanding of Hogwarts will be invaluable. Besides," he added, a chilling nonchalance in his tone, "I know what I'm doing."

My heart hammered against my ribs. What plan? What did he mean by 'useful'? The pieces of seemingly unconnected events slammed together in my mind - the "accidents" that plagued his rivals, the mysterious illness that sent a student to Azkaban – all the whispers I'd brushed aside.

A wave of nausea washed over me. The truth, stark and horrifying, slammed into me - Tom hadn't loved me. He'd used me.

Before I could react, the conversation ended abruptly. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears back. My hand trembled as I reached for the doorknob, the urge to flee the only thing driving me.

The door creaked open, revealing a startled Avery, who paled at the sight of me. He stammered something about leaving and practically bolted past me. My gaze darted to Tom, his face an unreadable mask.

The devastation was so profound, it felt like my world was shattering around me. The man I loved, the man I'd trusted with my heart, was a stranger – a monster.

I stumbled back, a strangled cry escaping my lips. Tom lunged for me, but I twisted away, my scream echoing in the empty house. Tears streamed down my face as I bolted past him, the need to escape overwhelming. He grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly tight, but I fought back with a strength I didn't know I possessed.

“Don't touch me!" I screamed, yanking my arm away from his grasp. "How could you?" The words tumbled out, choked with betrayal. "All this time... you were just using me?"

Tom's eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of something else in them – ? Regret? It didn't matter.

"You were the best witch in your year," he said, his voice tight. "I needed someone smart, someone who could understand Hogwarts, its secrets..."

His justifications fell on deaf ears. This wasn't the Tom I thought I knew. This was a stranger, a monster cloaked in the face of the boy I loved.

My struggle was useless. Tom's grip on my arm felt like iron, his face a mask of cold calculation that shattered the image of the boy I loved. "Stop moving," he hissed, his voice tight. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"Why?" I shrieked, the word raw with betrayal. "Why are you doing this?"

He didn't answer. The silence was deafening, filled only with the frantic thump of my heart. My pleas turned into a desperate mantra. "Why, Tom? Why?!"

He remained silent, his grip tightening a fraction. The pain spurred a fresh wave of fury. I screamed again, clawing at his arm, anything to break free. He finally reacted, hauling me off the ground with surprising ease.

"Let me go!" I screamed, my voice hoarse. "You're a monster!"

"I know, love," he said, the word a cruel mockery on his lips.

"Don't call me that! Let me go!"

Ignoring my pleas, he marched towards the door, his face a stony mask. Panic clawed at my throat. "Tom, don't," I choked out, my voice thick with tears.

Then, the world slammed shut. He yanked open the door and shoved me into a room I didn't recognize, He threw me onto the bed, my breath catching in my throat. But I was up in a flash, scrambling towards the door. "Tom, don't you dare!" I shrieked, my voice choked with tears.

"We will talk," he cut me off, his voice strangely calm considering the storm raging inside me. He reached down, his fingers brushing against mine. I recoiled as if burned.

The click of the lock echoed in the room like a death knell. Panic surged through me. I spun around, scrambling towards the windows, clawing at the latches. They were locked too. A strangled sob escaped my lips. Without my wand, I was trapped.

I slammed my fists against the door, the wood groaning under the impact. "Tom! Open the door!" I screamed, my voice hoarse. "You're a monster! I hate you! I will hate you to the day I die!"

My words echoed in the small room, bouncing off the walls. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. "Why?" I sobbed, collapsing onto the floor. "Why did you do this to me, Tom? I really loved you."

The silence stretched on, broken only by my ragged breaths and the quiet tick of the clock on the wall. "Tom?" I croaked, my voice barely a whisper. But there was no answer. Just the relentless tick-tock, reminding me of the time slipping away,

Exhaustion eventually won over the battle raging in my heart. Sleep, even in this state of utter betrayal, felt like torture. Perhaps it was the screaming all night, or the relentless pleas I'd choked out until my voice was raw, but I drifted off into a restless slumber.

A feathery touch against my cheek, then a gentle hand combing through my hair, jolted me awake. I flinched back, scrambling away until the wooden bedframe pressed against my back.

"Don't touch me," I spat, pulling my knees to my chest, a fortress against the world – a world that had suddenly turned monstrous.

"Eat," he said, a neutral tone that sent shivers down my spine. There was food on the nightstand, a silent offering.

"I won't eat anything you offer," I spat back, defiance flickering through the haze of hurt. "Let me go."

A beat of silence stretched between us, taut with tension. Then, a single word, laced with a quiet command that sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. "Eat."

The sound of my own sobs filled the room, a stark contrast to his forced composure. "Stop crying," he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

"I said stop crying!" he say, his voice louder this time. The sound of it shattered whatever fragile hope remained inside me.

But I couldn't stop. Tears blurred my vision, each one a silent scream of betrayal and heartbreak

. He reached out a hand, as if to comfort me, but I flinched away, pushing the tears back with the heels of my hands.

"I got you some clothes . Eat and change," he continued, his tone clipped.

Ignoring the food, I met his gaze with eyes filled with a pain that mirrored the wreckage in my heart. "And don't fucking hurt yourself again,"he spat, his gaze dropping to my hand. A jolt of surprise ran through me. He must have cleaned it sometime in the night.

I hadn't even noticed, or maybe I refused to acknowledge it. Looking across the room, I saw the shattered mirror and a single drop of crimson staining its surface. The realization hit me like a physical blow.

"Why? So you can kill me yourself? Like you did to this poor girl ?" I shouted, the accusation ripping from my throat.

"Watch your mouth, Y/n," he warned, his eyes hardening. The look in them brought a fresh wave of tears – tears not just of fear, but of a profound sadness.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Watch your mouth, Y/n," he warned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. The way he spoke to me wasn't just cold, it was cruel.

This couldn't be the same Tom who held me close every chance he got, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world. This wasn't the boy I had loved almost my whole life.

"I look at you and I can't recognize you anymore," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "I don't even know who you are now."

He stared at me for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then, in a voice devoid of warmth, he finally spoke."Good," he said simply.

Two days bled into one another, a monotonous blur of misery. He'd stormed out of the room after our confrontation, leaving me alone with the deafening silence and the weight of his betrayal.

Each day followed the same cruel script. He'd reappear, a grim expression etched on his face, carrying a tray of food and fresh clothes. The clothes, once a thoughtful touch, now felt like a cruel mockery. A shower was a brief reprieve, the warm water washing away some of the physical grime, but the emotional scars remained raw and open.

Food sat untouched on the nightstand, the sight turning my stomach. The mere thought of putting anything past my lips filled me with a suffocating dread.

Each night, like clockwork, the anger arrived with him. The sight of the full dishes on the nightstand seemed to ignite a fire in his eyes. His voice, once a source of comfort, now dripped with icy contempt.

"You haven't eaten a single thing," he'd sneer, snatching the plate and tossing it onto the bedside table with a clatter. "Do you think this is a game?"

I'd remain silent, staring at the opposite wall, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

It was a constant reminder of the monster I now shared a room with, the man who wore the face of the boy I loved.

The morning light, harsh and unwelcome, streamed through the barred windows, but Tom was nowhere to be seen. My body ached, a dull throb echoing the pain in my heart. Tears, silent and warm, traced paths down my cheeks. Exhaustion gnawed at me, both physical and emotional.

Then, the sound of the lock clicking. I braced myself for Tom's usual stoicism, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. But it wasn't Tom who entered.

My heart lurched. Standing in the doorway were Avery and Lestrange. Once considered friends, their presence now sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through me. The trust, the camaraderie - shattered like the mirror in the room.

Lestrange approached the bed, his expression unreadable. "What are you doing?" I croaked, the words rough from disuse. He didn't answer, simply gripping my hand with surprising strength.

"Easy now, Y/n," Avery said, a placating tone lacing his voice. But the glint of a dagger in his hand shattered the facade. My eyes widened in horror. "Nothing personal."

Terror clawed at my throat. They were going to kill me. My mind raced, searching for a way out, but my voice came out a weak rasp, "No..."

"See, she understands," Lestrange said, his cold gaze unwavering."You know too much, And you've had enough time to decide. But you didn't."

"Decide what?" My vision blurred with fresh tears. Without Lestrange's support, I would have collapsed.

"To serve the Dark Lord," he replied.

"I... I don't understand," I whimpered, tears blurring my vision.

The Dark Lord? Who was that? My mind was a whirlwind of confusion, but before I could voice the question, Lestrange dragged me from the bed. I tried to fight back, but my body was a leaden weight.

"Sorry, Y/n," Avery muttered, his voice laced with a strange regret.

The Dark Lord? Who was he talking about? But before I could get another word out, a searing pain shot through my wrists as Lestrange twisted them behind my back.

"Get it over with, Avery," Lestrange muttered, a hint of annoyance lacing her voice. "I'm not enjoying this. She was my friend."

"No! No, Avery!" I screamed, my voice raw with terror as I thrashed against their hold. "Don't do this!"

"Just one swift cut, you won't feel a thing," Avery said, his voice cold and detached.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable.A choked sob escaped my lips. This couldn't be happening. Not like this.

But then, a voice ripped through the room, a voice I wouldn't have recognized if not for the flicker of something familiar in its depths.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

My eyes snapped open at the sound. Tom stood between me and Avery, his face a mask of fury. He twisted Avery's wrist with a sickening crack, the dagger clattering to the floor. In a swift movement, he pulled me from Lestrange's grip, holding me close.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with a concern that sent a jolt through me. I shook my head, clinging to him as if my life depended on it. Maybe, in that moment, it did.

"She already knew too much, Tom," Avery whined, cradling his injured hand. "We thought it would be too much for you to do it yourself, so we decided..."

"And you thought wrong," Tom snarled, his voice icy. "You'll pay for this, both of you. Get out of my sight."

Avery and Lestrange exchanged a frightened glance before nodding hastily.

"Yes, my Lord," they chorused, their voices dripping with fear.

Lord? He was their Lord? He's... he's the Dark Lord? The weight of the revelation crashed down on me, shattering the remnants of the Tom I thought I knew.

"He… he called you… my Lord?" My voice trembled as the weight of the revelation crashed down on me.

He carried me gently off the ground, my strength completely gone.my body too weak to protest. I laid my head against his chest .

He settled me back onto the bed, his fingers gently brushing my hair away from my tear-streaked face., "Did they hurt you ,love ?" he asked, his voice soft, his touch a stark contrast to the cold fury I'd witnessed moments ago.

"Please don't hurt me," I stammered, fear still clinging to me like a shroud. "Please, Tom." The name tumbled from my lips, a plea laced with a shred of the hope I desperately wanted to believe in.

His face softened, a flicker of the Tom I knew battling with the darkness lurking in his eyes. "I will never hurt you," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my raw nerves.

But the words felt hollow. "I don't believe you," I choked out, a sob escaping my lips. "It hurts too much."

He didn't try to deny it. "I know," he whispered, his own voice thick with emotion.

He ignored my resistance when he began feeding me, his touch surprisingly gentle. He even helped me change, discarding the tear-stained shirt for a clean one. But I remained silent, a shell of the girl I once was.

The terror still gnawed at me, manifesting in flinches and skittish glances. Every rustle, every creak of the floorboards sent a jolt of fear through me. The nightmare I'd lived through seemed burned into my memory.

Finally, the silence stretched too thin. "Will you kill me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The question hung heavy in the air, a test.

His eyes widened, a flicker of genuine pain crossing his face. "No," he said, his voice firm.

"You lied to me," I accused him, my voice flat with a cold anger.

He didn't argue. "Yes," he conceded.

"You used me," I spat, the words laced with hurt.

"I did," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

"You hurt me," I whispered, the words heavy with betrayal.

"You said you loved me," I said, tears welling up in my eyes again.

He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "I do," he said, his voice thick with a desperation that tugged at my heartstrings. "I do,"

"I was conceived under a love potion," he admitted, his voice laced with a bitterness I hadn't heard before. "My mother used it on my father. They say that's why I'm incapable of feeling love."

He took my hand, his fingers cool against my skin, and pressed it to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat echoed beneath my palm, a powerful counterpoint to the erratic drumbeat in my chest.

"But now it beats," he continued, "For you. Just for you."

His words hung in the air, heavy and unbelievable. A love potion? A life devoid of love?How could this be? Everything I thought I knew about him, about love, was crumbling around me.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. He'd said he loved me before, a million times, but this was different. This was raw, unfiltered, a torrent of emotion that resonated in the very core of my being.

"And you thought I would hurt you?" he asked. "Kill you? You, the best thing I have ever had, the only thing I truly care about in this stupid world? Y/n, you, my darling, are the only person I love, I didn’t mean a word from what I said I don’t trust anyone enough to show them my weakness, I would burn this world down to a cinder for you."

His words were fierce, possessive, yet laced with a tenderness I'd never known existed within him.

"I'm not lying," he said, his gaze searching my tear-filled eyes. "I was at first. Having you by my side was a strategic move. You're smart, brilliant, innocent, someone I could mold to my cause. But you turned the tables. You, without even trying, made me feel something I never thought possible – love for you. Something they said was impossible. And you know what? losing doesn't feel like defeat. It feels like the greatest victory."

"It’s impossible they say ," he said, a bitter edge to his voice. "But look at me now." He looked down at our hands clasped together, then back up at me, his gaze searching my wet face.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, mirroring the beat beneath my hand.

"How can I believe you, Tom?" I finally managed, the question a mere whisper lost in the storm of emotions raging within me.

His gaze softened, the coldness replaced by a desperate vulnerability. He leaned closer, his eyes searching mine. "Because," he murmured, his voice a husky caress, "from this moment on, I'll spend every waking breath proving it."

His lips brushed against mine,he kissed me, softly at first, his lips brushing against mine in a gentle plea. my body relaxing into his touch.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, seeking entrance. I opened to him, welcoming him inside. He tasted like coffee and mint, and something deeper, something that teased him only him, something that made my heart clench with longing.

He pulled away, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet room.

" you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ," he whispered, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheek.

I believed him, in that moment, I truly did. I could see the love in his eyes, the sincerity in his words.

He laid me down, his body covering mine. His lips found mine again, his kiss slow, deliberate, as if memorizing every inch of me.

His hands roamed my body, his touch setting my skin on fire. He cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing my nipples through the fabric of my shirt. I arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.

He pulled my shirt over my head, his eyes darkening as he took in my bare breasts. He leaned down, his mouth closing around one nipple, his tongue swirling around the hard peak. I cried out, my fingers tangling in his hair.

He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. His hand moved lower, his fingers finding the waistband of my pants. He looked up at me, his eyes questioning. I nodded, giving him permission.

He pulled my pants down, his eyes taking in my bare legs, my lace panties. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, pulling them down slowly.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip.He leaned down, his lips pressing against my inner thigh. "And all mine," he added, his voice full of reverence.

He moved higher, his lips brushing against my core. I gasped, my hips bucking up towards him. He took his time, his tongue exploring every inch of me. I was panting, my fingers clutching at the sheets. He looked up at me, his eyes full of lust. "You taste like heaven," he said, his voice full of pride. He held me down, his hands on my hips, his mouth working me to the brink.

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with desire. "i got you, come for me, my love," he whispered. And I did, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I cried out his name, my fingers tangled in his hair. He continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

He moved up my body, his mouth finding mine again. I could taste myself on his lips, and it only made me want him more.

I could feel his hard length pressing against me. He reached into his bedside table, pulling out a condom. He rolled it on, his eyes never leaving mine. He positioned himself at my entrance, his eyes full of love and desire. "Use our safeword if you need to." he whispered, his voice full of promise.

He pushed inside me, filling me completely. I cried out, my nails digging into his back. He started to move, his pace slow and deliberate, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge. He reached down, his fingers finding my clit. He rubbed slow circles, his touch sending me over the edge. “scream my name while you cum” He say , I cried out, my orgasm rushing through me. He thrust into me a few more times before finding his own release.

He collapsed on top of me, his breathing heavy. He rolled off, pulling me into his arms. "I love you," he whispered, his lips pressing against my forehead. "No one will ever hurt you again, not as long as I'm here." His words were laced with a chilling intensity, a darkness I couldn't ignore.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you

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delusionalfanficwriter · 2 months

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forgive me

My heart pounded in my chest as I turned the key in the lock, the anticipation of finally being home after what felt like an eternity abroad making my hands tremble. I had missed Leah desperately during my time away, longing for her comforting presence after I missed the possibly winning penalty for the USWNT. But now, as I stepped inside our apartment, that longing turned to dread.

The soft glow of lamplight illuminated the living room, casting eerie shadows against the walls. And there, on the couch, lay Leah, wrapped in the arms of another woman. My stomach dropped as the scene before me registered, the shock and disbelief hitting me like a tidal wave.

I wanted to scream, to demand answers, to tear apart the fabric of reality until this nightmare dissolved into nothingness. But all I could do was stand there, frozen in place, my heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

Leah's eyes met mine, a fleeting expression of surprise and guilt flickering across her features before she spoke. "Y/n, I can explain," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart.

She quickly got up from the couch in her panties and long t-shirt while the other woman I did not recognize gathered her belongings and ran out without hesitation.

I didn’t respond and as Leah took another step towards me, I took one back, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Say something, y/n. Please. I know I fucked up, but I can explain.”

I block out her words and just stare at her, tears filling my eyes as my heart breaks every second I stand there. I take a shaky breath before saying, “I am going to pack a bag and go.” She goes to argue but I shake my head and interrupt, “Leah, you need to let me go.”

Leah's face crumpled in anguish as my words hung heavy in the air, the weight of them pressing down on us both like a suffocating blanket. She reached out to me, her hands trembling with desperation, but I recoiled from her touch, unable to bear the thought of her hands on me after what I had just witnessed.

"No," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. "Please, y/n, don't do this. I love you, I swear, I never meant to hurt you."

Her words cut through me like a knife, reopening wounds that had barely begun to heal. I wanted to believe her, wanted to cling to the illusion of love and happiness we had shared, but the reality of her betrayal loomed large in the space between us, an insurmountable barrier that threatened to swallow us whole.

"I can't do this anymore, Leah," I said, my voice cracking with emotion. "You've hurt me in ways I never thought possible. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you."

Leah's eyes brimmed with tears as she reached out to me again, her desperation palpable in the air. She knew how hard I worked in my self-confidence but this just took the biggest blow to it. "Don’t for a second think you are not enough, y/n. I’m the problem. Please, y/n, give me another chance. I'll do anything to make this right, anything to prove to you that I love you."

But I shook my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. "It's too late for that, Leah. You've broken my trust. I can't just forgive and forget."

I ignore her as she begs for forgiveness while I head to our room to grab a few extra items as I already have a suitcase filled because of my trip with the national team.

As I hastily packed my belongings, Leah's pleas echoed in my mind, each word a painful reminder of the love we once shared.

Leah followed me into the bedroom, her footsteps hesitant as if she were treading on thin ice. "Please, y/n," she implored, her voice choked with tears. "Don't leave like this. We can work through this together, I promise."

Her words stirred a flicker of doubt within me, a small voice whispering that perhaps forgiveness was possible. But as I looked into her eyes, I saw not just remorse, but a deeper struggle, a fundamental flaw in our relationship that could not be easily mended.

"I need some space, Leah," I said, my voice firm despite the tremors of uncertainty coursing through me. "I need time to figure things out on my own."

Leah's shoulders slumped in defeat, her gaze falling to the floor as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I understand," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of my racing heart. With a heavy heart, I zipped up my bag. As I made my way to the door, Leah's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Y/n, wait," she said, her voice wavering with emotion. "Just know that I'll always love you, no matter what."

I let the tears I have been holding back drop silently as I look her in her eyes one more time. I love her so much but obviously I am not providing enough if she’s seeking more elsewhere.

I get into my car and drive around aimlessly before arriving at Katie McCabe's place, seeking refuge in the familiarity of her warm embrace, she immediately sensed something was amiss. Concern etched across her features as she ushered me inside, her voice laced with worry.

"Y/n, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," Katie exclaimed, her eyes scanning my face for any sign of explanation.

I managed a weak smile, attempting to mask the turmoil raging within me. "It's nothing, Katie. Just... a rough day."

But Katie wasn't easily fooled. She took my hand gently, her touch grounding me amidst the chaos of my emotions. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm here for you, no matter what."

I hesitated, the weight of my unspoken truth threatening to suffocate me. But as I looked into Katie's compassionate gaze, I knew I couldn't bear to burden her with the tangled mess of my heartache.

"It's complicated," I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I don't want to talk about it."

Katie's brow furrowed in concern, her instincts urging her to push further. "Is it Leah?" she asked softly, her words hanging heavy in the air.

I flinched at the mention of her name, the pain of betrayal still fresh in my mind. But I couldn't bring myself to tarnish Leah's name, not when the love I once felt for her still lingered like a ghost in the recesses of my heart.

"I can't," I choked out, tears threatening to spill over. "I can't do that to her. I still love her, Katie. I can't bear the thought of anyone hating her."

Katie's expression softened with understanding as she wrapped me in a comforting embrace, her presence a soothing balm to my shattered soul. "You don't have to say anything you're not ready to, y/n," she murmured, her words a whispered promise of unwavering support.

…………. ……….. ………… ………….

As the days passed, life seemed to go on as usual. I returned to my routine, throwing myself into training with the Arsenal team, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Despite my efforts to appear unaffected, the tension between Leah and me was palpable, a silent rift that threatened to tear us apart.

At practice, the atmosphere was strained, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. My teammates exchanged knowing glances, their curiosity piqued by the unspoken tension between Leah and me.

Leah, ever persistent, continued to plead for forgiveness, her desperation evident in every fleeting glance and tentative touch. But I remained steadfast in my resolve, refusing to entertain the possibility of reconciliation until I had fully come to terms with the betrayal that had shattered my trust.

As we gathered on the field, preparing for another grueling session, Leah approached me tentatively, her eyes brimming with remorse. "Y/n, please," she whispered, her voice pleading. "We need to talk. I can't bear this distance between us any longer."

I shook my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. "Not now, Leah," I replied, my voice firm despite the turmoil raging within me. "I need time to process everything that's happened."

“Please, y/n. I can see you training extra hard just to avoid thinking about this. Please, I don't want to see you hurting.”

“You did that, amore. You hurt me. I knew I wasn’t enough and you reassured me countless times I was. I was stupid to believe you… that I was enough for you.” I whisper before walking away.

“Y/n, wait! At least tell me why no one else knows? I was expected to get some lash back from the gals.” She grabs my arm before I face her once more.

“Despite all you have done, and might think, I still love you.”

As Leah and I stood on the training field in our emotional exchange, a voice interrupted from the sidelines, cutting through the weighty atmosphere with unexpected levity.

"Well, whatever Leah did, it must be forgivable if she's still alive," came a joking remark from one of our teammates, interrupting the solemn moment with a touch of humor.

I turned to see Alessia smirking playfully as she approached us, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Despite the seriousness of the situation, her lighthearted comment momentarily lifted the heaviness that had settled over us.

"Seriously, y/n," Alessia continued, nudging me gently with her elbow. "You must be a saint to consider forgiving whatever she did. I mean, I can barely forgive her for stealing my snacks, let alone whatever this is."

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips, the tension easing slightly under the unexpected reprieve of humor. "Trust me, Alessia," I replied, my tone light despite the lingering ache in my heart. "It's going to take a lot more than snacks to make things right."

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #uswnt fanfic #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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ladyempty · 10 days

Note

Yandere Maegor, Daemon and Aegon I reaction to Reader running away and marrying someone else and having children?? Please 😭😭

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. |

Aegon I

Aegon Targaryen I is the definition of a conqueror, courageous, intelligent and ambitious, with a friendly and captivating personality, easily lovable and admirable, but with few close friends. A certain air of enigma surrounded his figure, making people try to unravel him, attracted like moths by his light of monarchical dignity.

The king was comfortable and accustomed to sycophants, women dragging themselves for crumbs, or simply a single night in his bed. He was unfamiliar with something denied to him. He had "conqueror" in his name for a reason that went far beyond the submission of the other lords.

So it came as a complete shock when he was so bluntly denied when he approached you at one of the numerous banquets hosted by the royal family. At first, Aegon couldn't even process it, the features remained the same with a gentle smile and analyzing eyes and no words uttered. Like a person who was suddenly punched and in the first few seconds didn't understand or simply didn't know how to react. He just narrowed his purple eyes and watched you leave in an elegant bow.

The first time he was seriously denied, you hadn't done it to pique his interest, but rather to preserve your own honor, not wanting to be just another king's case knowing that he would return to Rhaenys at the end of the day. He admired this. If his plans were to push him away, you were not successful, you only made a dangerous obsession settle in your being.

He began to pursue you subtly, with gallant and courteous gestures, he urgently wanted to erase the first impression you had of him. Forcing the Targaryen to reveal his personality beyond the superficial, rambling for countless hours about some common interest and constantly summoning his presence, whether to read to him while I work or simply enjoy his warm presence.

And when his barriers were still not lowered, the king had to resort to more drastic measures, asking for her hand in marriage and making it clear that he would not accept being denied.

You would be softer when you were a wife and had duties towards him. The conqueror thought wrongly. Never in a thousand lifetimes did he expect you to run away. As soon as he found out, Aegon simply went crazy, the image made up of himself falling down the moment he threatened to destroy the entire seven kingdoms again if he didn't get you back.

Stone by stone, leaf by leaf. Everything was meticulously investigated by the countless guards spreading even through the most forgotten places by the gods. The Targaryen king became somewhat paranoid and easily irritated by his disappearance, not even Rhaenys could calm him down or change his mind. It was two years of pure torment.

Ah... When he finally found you in a small house in pentos... Married and obviously pregnant... It was like the world was open beneath your feet again. A loving feeling of betrayal. How dare you? Did you think that pathetic man could love you more than him?! How stupid.

He coldly killed her husband and none of her tears and pleas could change his mind. His heart was partially darkened by his betrayal. He won't forget anytime soon, you'll have to regain his trust to have the slightest amount of freedom. Countless guards will follow you closely, if you are even allowed to leave your quarters.

And your son? Don't worry, Aegon will assume paternity of the child even if it comes with rumors about having deflowered you before the wedding. It didn't matter. He just wouldn't let you mother a bastard or have that other man as a part of your life. Aenys was his heir anyway.

Maegor, The Cruel

You were certainly a very unlucky person to have caught the attention of the Targaryen king who was called cruel. You probably met at an event organized by him to celebrate one of his conquests, reaffirming his power and sovereignty as king, or you were one of his wives' ladies-in-waiting.

Whether you were from a big house, small house or even a commoner. It didn't matter. You were his the moment the king laid eyes on your enchanting figure.

Maegor was a man of few feelings, he didn't truly love any of his wives, it was lust mixed with the rational thought of creating heirs. But you were different, there was something special that made Maegor feel a bubbling sensation in his chest, a pleasant and addictive warmth like he had never felt before. It was something unfamiliar, one that he felt slightly hesitant to demonstrate or how to handle. But he just knew he wanted you and he would have you. At any cost.

Maegor was far from the definition of courteous, he knew little about the gallant arts or gentle love. Therefore, he had little knowledge about the courtship, the little he knew was from his mother's advice, who only knew about these things from the poets who surrounded Rhaenys.

Either way, he is not discreet. He doesn't even make an effort to appear less intimidating than he is. His eyes are fixed on you no matter the moment, his intimidating and darkening presence looming over you like a shadow. Once he even gave him a white fur coat, an animal he himself killed. It was his way of showing his interest. Something raw and rustic, without words, just proves to be worthy of you.

Either way, he wouldn't wait long. The moment he gets tired of waiting and the itch that grows in him is not relieved, he will attack. Demanding her hand in marriage from her, leaving no room for disagreement. He didn't expect you to run away in the middle of the night... Stupid little bird. Did you think he wouldn't come after you?

The man flew into a rage the moment he found out, destroying everything and everyone in his path, no matter if they were his wives, servants or important masters. Everyone should pay for his blinding rage. He turned the seven kingdoms into hell looking for you. A thick layer of blood, smoke, ash and corpse covering every corner of the kingdom.

And when he found you... Ah, dumb little bird, did he think he could hide for another year? Never.

He killed her husband the moment he saw the man, not even bothering to give him a painful death to pay for his crimes. He was as furious as a bull at the sight of any trace of red. He never thought about seriously hurting you, but he would have to punish you in a certain way to put you in your place. But his angry thoughts strayed the moment he caught sight of her swollen belly with a child.

A baby, that could and should be his. It was someone else's... It was an unforgivable betrayal. He could never fully forgive you. He would never forget or leave you alone for even a second.

He wouldn't kill the child, he would keep you away until you gave birth and then pretend that the child belonged to his lady-in-waiting, even if it was his child behind closed doors. It was a good way to keep tabs on you. Do you love your child? So better obey, you don't want something bad to happen, right?

Do not worry, dear. If you want to be a mother and wife so much, who would Maegor be to deny you that? You would be two things very soon.

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon was never a man to love madly, he fell in love a few times. He rolled from bed to bed without a fixed commitment, just looking for momentary fun and vague pleasures. He indulged in his desires without shame. Bad luck for you to have been so captivating. He was hooked on you the moment their eyes met his.

Any slight affection he ever had for other women and men was forgotten. For you he felt love. Real love that went beyond lust. After all, he had never touched you intimately and he already had such overwhelming feelings.What was it if not love? You were his only thought.The first thought when waking up and the last when going to bed.

And Daemon had no intention of hiding his affection. His hands constantly find their way to your shoulders or start from your waist, a touch that lingers on a simple handshake and a look so intense that it would make anyone else tremble in fear.

As expected, rumors were created questioning his honor and how terrible the prince was. When his father went to confront him, Daemon just smiled mischievously and just said he would marry you. To everyone's great surprise, after all, the Targaryen had demonstrated his unhappiness during his first marriage.

But you weren't like that woman uglier than a sheep. You were perfect in every aspect and in the very definition of the word. Something to be admired every day.

It was a strong, stunning blow when you disappeared during the night, your maids only finding cold, wrinkled sheets when they went to wake you up that morning.

Where in the seven hell were you? He would find you... You couldn't run away.

He destroyed, killed, tortured and threatened. He spent days flying with Caraxes to every corner of the seven kingdoms just to find you. Unsuccessfully. A long year without having your favorite addiction... You.

He drowned himself in e wine while you were gone, nursing a bubbling rage and constantly exploding at everyone, scaring even Viserys, who thought he had seen the worst side of his brother.

But nothing lasts forever. He found you. He invaded your home in Essos without hesitation. He didn't kill your husband at first because his stunned mind simply refused to understand that you had betrayed him in such a disgusting way.

But the moment she saw the little newborn baby in her arms. He understood everything.The black sister ran through her pathetic husband without mercy, blood spatter staining his robes in small crimson droplets.The cold, darkened eyes like never before were directed at you.

For a moment you feared for the baby's life, placing the small bundle against your chest to protect it.

"Don't worry, I would never hurt our son." He smiles as he says each word slowly. He would legitimize that child as his and didn't care what he would say. A good way to keep you behaved and not tarnish his bloodline with bastards. Obviously he would love his own children more with you, but he wouldn't show it so openly. You're lucky the child looks so much like you…

#yandere x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #Yandere Maegor Targaryen #maegor Targaryen x reader #aegon the conqueror #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryan #Aegon the conqueror x Reader

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ahlyasimps · 1 year

Text

Would You Still Love Me? [O.G.]

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x GN Reader

Summary: Feeling insecure about your appearance, you distance yourself from your boyfriend.

A/N: Requested by Anon! I’ve been super busy lately so I’ve only been able to write this up on the bus, on my phone, on the notes app. Please look away from any grammatical/spelling errors 🤭

As you walked into your potions class, you couldn't help but feel a little excited. Not because of the class itself, but because you knew your boyfriend Ominis would be there.

You looked forward to seeing him in every class you shared (which, lucky for you was all of them). There was just something about seeing him concentrate on his work or watching the way he scrunched his eyebrows whenever he encountered a particularly difficult question that made the boring classes that much more enjoyable.

You spotted Ominis at his usual spot at the back of the class, flanked on one side by Sebastian. With the help of his "sentient" wand, he was carefully measuring out ingredients to prep for the class.

As you made your way towards your own desk, just in front of his, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. His hair was slightly disheveled, an oddity for the normally so put together Ominis, but it made him look even more handsome.

"There you are," Sebastian sighed exasperated "Ominis won't shut up about wanting to see you."

You giggled as you sat down at your desk and started to gather your own supplies, before turning around to face the two boys. But before you could say anything Ominis' face caught you attention. While granted, it was a stunning face, you realized something was very, very off. His eyes were no long glazed and pale. Instead, his pupils were a clear blue.

You saw the unfamiliar eyes widen and his normally gentle face morphed into one of disgust. The lips that only ever used to whisper loving words to you were pulled into a sneer “Please tell me this is a joke Sebastian. There is no way I’m dating someone who looks.... like that.” He spat those last words with a venom you’ve never heard from him.

You sat staring at him in shock and joy over the fact that he could see before the cruel words he uttered finally registered in your mind. He didn’t like your appearance? He actually felt disappointed? You felt your vision become hazy from the unshed tears. It was like everything was crashing down.

“Ominis..what?..Why are you saying this?” You started asking before Professor Sharp entered the room and the scene seemed to vanish in your mind.

Panting you jolted awake, a tear trickling down your cheek and hair plastered to your forehead from sweat. You look around the room in confusion before finally registering that the events you just saw were merely a dream. Instead of the cold potions room, you find yourself in your dorm room, surrounded by familiar surroundings that bring you comfort. The cool glow of the night light illuminates the room, casting a soothing light that calms yours nerves. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of shock and betrayal that still lingers from your nightmare.

You notice the familiar Quidditch posters on the walls, the pictures of family and friends on the nightstands, and the sound of your dormmates' steady breathing from across the room. In a dream where the person you viewed as your anchor was unfamiliar, these common sights helped to serve as a reminder that it was all a dream.

Not quite satisfied though, you reach for the pictures on your own nightsand. The bright smiles of your family look up at you from the frame but it's the other photo you have that captured your attention. Ominis had grumbled about taking a group photo when Sebastian had suggested it but one plea from you and he folded. This prompted Sebastian to groan at how easy Ominis was to convince saying he was such a sap. Naturally, this earned Sebastian a stinging hex from Ominis causing brunette to complain about his best friend's "stupid sentient wand". The memories of that day bring a smile to your face as your lightly run your fingers over the frame. Your boyfriend's bright blue eyes from the dream flash in your mind so you go under your blanket to cast Lumos with the photo in hand. Instead of the haunting eyes full of disgust, you see the comforting pale eyes that you fell in love with.

You stop casting Lumos and return the picture back to your nightstand before settling down in your bed once more. While it's clear that everything was a dream, the eyes confirmed it, you couldn't help but feel the seeds of doubt start growing in your chest. You have thought about it of course, if Ominis were able to see, how would he view you? Would he still hold you close or would he be disgusted at the appearance he saw. You had never shared these thoughts with him of course. And while the fact that he liked you for your personality brought you some comfort, people talk. You've heard the snide comments people made when they thought you couldn't hear. Normally, it wouldn't bother you but laying in bed, still reeling from the dream that touched a little too close to home, you couldn't helo but feel your anxiety grow.

A loud snore interrupts your thoughts reminding you that it's still late at night and you need sleep. A quick glance at the clock confirms as much, 4 hours left until daybreak. You sigh burrowing further into the pillow knowing that this sleep will be a restless one.

The morning light from the window and the chirping of the birds wakes you up the next morning. Your dormmates were still asleep but that's go be expected. You wake up earlier than most normally. After getting ready for the day you head down to the common room, the only people down there were those who had passed out after a night of studying. Carefully making your way past them you head to the Great Hall. Some food would do you well after the nightmare of last night.

"[Y/N]!" Sebastian shouts from his spot at the Slytherin table. He waves you over and you notice Ominis visibly perk up at your name. Nightmare Ominis briefly flashes through your mind when you him but you quickly shake the thought away. You make a beeline for the Slytherin table and plop yourself next to Ominis. Hearing the noise to the right of him he looks over and smiles in your direction. You peck him on the cheek (much to Sebastian's annoyance) and laugh as you see Ominis' ears turns a bright red. "Geez, it's too early to see you two snogging."whines Sebastian.

"We're not snogging Sebastian, you're so childish." Ominis retorts.

"Still too early to feel like a third wheel, I haven't even finished breakfast."

You laugh at their antics and grab hold of Ominis' hand before eating.

Breakfast passed by quickly with Sebastian grabbing Ominis and dragging him away to help him with something back at the dorm. Finding yourself alone you decide to head to the library and starting writing your report on Dittany and its uses for Professor Garlick.

"Honestly, a Gaunt settling for THEM? It's embarrassing."

"Agreed, but did you see them yesterday? Their hair was a mess! Completely unworthy of dating Gaunt."

You stopped in your tracks after hearing this conversation and peeked into the corridor to see two Slytherin girls talking.

"Hah!" One of them laughed. "They know they can't date anyone with that appearance. Of course they go for the only blind student."

The other snickered "If Ominis could see them, I just KNOW he'd be horrified that that's the troll he's been dating all this time"

Tears pricked your eyes and you ran back to your dorm so you wouldn't hear more. As you make your way back to your dorm, you feel the weight of the cruel comments bearing down on you. You knew that some people in Slytherin were known for their elitist and prejudiced attitudes, but it still stung to hear those words. You couldn't help but wonder if Ominis would really be disgusted with your appearance if he could see. As you lay down on your bed, you try to push the hurtful words out of your mind. You know that they don't define you, and that Ominis cares for you deeply regardless of your appearance. But the doubts and insecurities still linger, and you find yourself slipping into a gloomy state of mind.

It's only when your dormmates start to stir and chatter that you decide to get up and face the day. You try to put on a brave face, knowing that you have classes to attend and friends to meet. You head to your first class, trying to keep your head down and not attract any unwanted attention. Upon entering the Transfiguration classroom, you spot Sebastian and Ominis already there with the former waving you over. Pretending as though you didn’t notice you decide to go sit down next to Poppy who looks at you in confusion. You could feel Sebastian’s eyes on you and when you look up you see him whispering to Ominis. Your boyfriend looked confused, brows furrowed and a frown on his lips. It looked like he was about to stand up when you were saved by Professor Weasley starting class.

Before Poppy could ask any questions and before Ominis could corner you to ask what’s wrong, you raced out of the class the minute you were dismissed. On your way out you didn’t miss the shock on Sebastian face or the hurt one on Ominis’ when he realized you left abruptly.

After the hurtful conversation you overheard in the hallway earlier, you couldn't bear to face Ominis. The thought of him finding out what people were saying about you and agreeing made you feel sick to your stomach. Just like in Transfiguration, you continued to avoid him for a few days, making excuses not to meet up with him or sit next to him in classes. You knew that he noticed your absence and was becoming more and more concerned, but you didn't know how to face him.

One day, as you were heading to the library between classes, you saw Ominis walking towards you. You, him and Sebastian always hung out in the Undercroft whenever there was spare time so you knew Ominis was looking for you. Your heart started racing, and you felt like running in the opposite direction. But he had already heard your footsteps, and there was no way to avoid him. He told you once that when he becomes more familiar with someone, he’s able to tell who they are just based on the sounds they make when they walk, a skill that was not working in your favour right now.

"Hey," he said as he approached you, his voice soft and gentle. "I've been looking for you. Is everything okay?"

You couldn't look at his face, so you stared at your feet and mumbled a response. "I'm fine, just busy with schoolwork and stuff."

He didn't seem convinced, and you flinched when his cold hands reached out trying to hold your face. "Is something bothering you? You can tell me, you know that, right?"

You wanted to tell him everything, to spill your heart out and let him know how much him being disappointed in your looks scared you, and how hurt you were by the cruel comments people were making. But the words just wouldn't come out. Instead, you shrugged and muttered something about needing to get to class, before you tried to quickly walk away.

You felt terrible for avoiding him, but you didn't know how to face him without breaking down. The guilt ate away at you, and you knew that you couldn't keep avoiding him forever.

Ominis however, wasn’t going to let you keep avoiding him. “Please, please can you just talk to me?” he begged hearing you turn around.

The desperation in his voice broke down your resolve and so you gently reach out and grabbed his hand to lead him over to a nearby bench.

As you both sat down, Ominis angled himself towards you, a pleading look on his face.

“I had a dream.. well more like a nightmare last night.” You explained wringing your hands in your lap before continuing to describe every heart wrenching detail. “And, I know it was stupid and didn’t really let it get to my at first. Until I overheard some girls talking about us.”

“Us?”

“As in our relationship, like how you’re a member of the great Gaunt family but you’re with ME of all people.” Ominis’ faced hardened in anger but you quickly kept on talking so he wouldn’t interject.

“I know but that’s not really what bothered me. It’s what they said next; about how of course the only person I can manage to date is the blind person who doesn’t know what I look like. It- it just made me really insecure about my appearance and that combined with the nightmare I had all became too much.”

“So you think I’d have never even entertained dating you if I saw you face?” He choked out, upset you would even think that.

"I don't care what you look like," Ominis says firmly, "I fell in love with you for who you are, not what you look like.” He groaned “Salazar, I know that sounds cliché, but it's true. The love I have for you was born from your words, actions, and personality. And nothing could ever change that."

You feel tears prick at your eyes, the doubt slowly dissipating from your heart.

He chuckled lightly "I'm sorry for what I said in your dream," he continues, his feeling around to reach yours. "I would never say anything like that to you in real life. I love you, [Y/N], and I always will."

You look into his face, seeing nothing but sincerity and love. You realize how foolish you've been, letting a nightmare get in the way of your relationship with Ominis.

"I'm sorry," you say, your voice choked with emotion. "I should've talked to you instead of avoiding you."

"It's okay," he says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "I understand. But please know that I'm always here for you, no matter what."

You lean into him, feeling his arms wrap around you in a warm embrace. In that moment, you know that your doubts and fears were nothing but a silly nightmare.

“Hey, Ominis?” You asked wriggling out of the warmth of his arms to intertwine your hands with his once more.

“Hmm?”

“Would you still love me if I was a snake?”

The deadpan look on his face made you double over in laughter.

#ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt imagines #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagines #hogwarts legacy imagine

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months

Text

All The Lies || B. Barnes - Part 3

Character: mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Y/N, haunted by guilt and betrayal, visits her ailing father, who reveals Bucky's apology and love despite their tragic past.

Warning: Angst, heartbreak.

Part 1: Echoes Of Revenge

Part 2: Shattered Echoes

Part 4: Sweetest Dreams

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Six months. 182 excruciating days since Bucky's eyes, dull and defeated, had mirrored the desolation gnawing at Y/N's soul. His words, "heartless woman," still echoed through the corridors of her mind, a spectral curse that clung to every breath she took.

She told herself it was righteous anger, the echo of justified revenge, but the bitter and jagged truth was that she saw a defeated man, broken at her feet every time she closed her eyes.

Then came the call, her mother's voice, tinged with worry, shattering the fragile normalcy she'd pieced together. "He's sick," she whispered, "your father." Y/N knew, even before the words left her mother's lips, that it was an act of defiance, a silent plea for reconciliation forged in the crucible of illness.

A deep and guttural sigh ripped through her, a mirror to the chasm between her and her father. His disapproval, a boulder thrown at her heart for her unconventional methods of vengeance, had created a distance so vast it felt like galaxies separated them.

Packing was a desperate attempt to outrun the ghosts that haunted her. Once a canvas of shared dreams, the city now felt like a labyrinth of memories.

Every corner whispered of Bucky, his laughter echoing in bustling cafes, his touch lingering in the rustling of leaves in the park where they'd first kissed. Did he still walk these streets? Was he haunted by her, too, by the love she'd poisoned with her vengeance?

The hospital, sterile and reeking of disinfectant, felt like a tomb. Her mother's embrace, warm but brittle, couldn't dispel the ice clinging to Y/N's heart. "Go see him," her mother's voice cracked.

As the door slid open, revealing the sterile white room, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. There, on the bed, lay her father, pale and frail, the years etched into his face like a cruel map of her absence.

The tears, long held at bay, finally broke free, flooding the sterile room with the bitter tide of regret. She knelt beside the bed, her hand reaching for his, a desperate plea for forgiveness, for a chance to mend what she'd broken. She has disappointed her parents and destroyed Bucky.

"Forgive me. You did all of this because of me." Her father's words hung heavy in the sterile air, each syllable a shard of guilt wedging itself into Y/N's already wounded heart.

"Dad," she choked out, the word a flimsy dam against the tide of emotions threatening to engulf her. "It doesn't matter. We won."

Her father's voice, raspy with illness and regret, shifted the conversation. "That boy came here."

"Who?" Y/N's breath caught, a flicker of hope battling the embers of fear.

"Bucky."

The name now felt like ash in her mouth. "Why?"

"He… he apologized," her father said, his voice cracking. "For his father."

Y/N's heart clenched. Bucky, carrying the weight of his father's cruelty, the man she'd betrayed and used his trust, had chosen to apologize instead of blaming her.

"When I saw his eyes," her father said, his grip tightening on her hand, "I knew he was different. And he told me… he loves you. But he knew you both couldn't be together. He didn't want to burden you with the past."

"He was different," her father continued, his voice a weary echo. "From the last time I saw him. Fifteen years, can you believe it?"

"You know him?" she asked, her voice a mere tremor in the silence.

Her father nodded, a bittersweet smile twisting his lips. "The reason I stayed friends with Nicholas is because of Bucky."

"Why?" she whispered, the question a desperate plea for understanding.

Her father sighed, the sound heavy with a lifetime of unspoken words. "Nicholas is a businessman," he rasped, "cold, ruthless. Not fit to be a father. I met Bucky when I visited their home. Skinny, malnourished, haunted by his father's cruelty. I went there a few times, just to check on him, to make sure he was okay."

He continued "He's a good man."

He pulled her close, his embrace a fragile offering of comfort. "You're my precious daughter," he murmured, his voice trembling. "I don't want you haunted by the ghosts of this. You deserve to find happiness, to build a life free from the shackles of the past."

Y/N clung to her father, the tears she'd held back for so long finally spilling over. Each drop felt like a release, a purging of the guilt and anger that had poisoned her for years.

But the weight of his words, "you deserve to find happiness," echoed through her like a mournful wail. Could happiness truly exist without Bucky? Could she ever truly escape the ghosts of their shared past?

The city lights bled into the night sky, painting the air with a luminescent haze. Y/N walked, a solitary figure navigating the urban jungle, her thoughts tangled with the echo of her father's words.

The weight of his love and his pain, the burden of his betrayal and Bucky's apology, all pressed down on her, a storm brewing within.

Driven by a subconscious desire, or perhaps a cruel twist of fate, her feet led her to the pulsating heart of the city – Club Onyx, Bucky's domain.

The bass throbbed like a heartbeat, the air thick with sweat and expensive perfume. Inside, the dance floor was a kaleidoscope of bodies, lost in the rhythm, their worries and woes melting away in the strobe-lit frenzy.

But for Y/N, the music was a cacophony, the laughter a mocking echo. She perched at the bar, nursing a drink that tasted of ashes. Her unseeing gaze flickered across the crowd, searching for a ghost, a silhouette that wouldn't be there.

Even if she did find him, what would she say?

A tap on her shoulder startled her. Turning, she met the familiar eyes of Steve, Bucky's friend, a witness to their love story and its tragic demise. "Y/N?" his voice was hesitant, unsure.

She managed a weak smile. "Steve."

He slid onto the stool beside her, his gaze holding a quiet understanding. "Are you here to drown your sorrows or find him?"

Y/N shrugged, the gesture mirroring the storm raging within. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe both."

Steve sighed, a deep rumble that mirrored the bass thumping through the club. "I don't know what happened between you two," he confessed, his eyes filled with a flicker of pain. "For a year, Bucky searched for you like a man possessed. Then one day, he just… left. Came back a shell of his former self."

His words cut through her like a knife, twisting the wound she'd tried to bury. The guilt, a venomous serpent, coiled tighter in her stomach. Bucky had searched for her, even after she'd pushed him away and declared him the enemy.

And what had she done in return? Abandoned him, condemned him to a life of shadows. The guilt gnawed at Y/N's insides, a relentless worm feasting on her fragile peace.

"He just kept saying 'not meant to be,'" Steve revealed, his voice heavy with concern. "Since then, the laughter died in him. Sleep became a stranger, replaced by endless work."

"As his longtime friend," Steve's voice reached through the fog of her guilt, "can I ask you to see him, just talk?"

Y/N nodded, the weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders like a leaden cloak. "I'll talk to him," she rasped, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

Steve's eyes, weary yet hopeful, held a silent plea. "Thank you, Y/N," he said, glancing at his watch. "Bucky should be back in half an hour. He had a quick inspection at another branch. Can you wait? The drinks are on me."

Y/N raised her glass, a wan smile twisting her lips. "One is enough," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need a clear head for this."

Steve ascended to the top floor, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts and the pulsating rhythm of the club.

**********

Ten minutes stretched into an eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the drumbeat of her growing anxiety. What would she say? How could she mend the chasm she'd carved between them?

Seeking solace in the cool anonymity of the restroom, Y/N found herself caught in a line of impatient patrons. The air, thick with perfume and the cloying scent of cheap liquor, pressed down on her like a physical weight.

Suddenly, a sharp prick on her neck sent a jolt of pain through her. The world tilted, blurred around the edges, and then, darkness claimed her.

Steve, returning to check on Y/N and inform her of Bucky's imminent arrival, found a scene of unsettling confusion. A staff member, his face etched with concern, was helping Y/N stand upright.

"What happened to her?" Steve's voice cracked with alarm.

The staff member, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and uncertainty, stammered, "I think she's... drunk."

"Bring her upstairs," Steve barked, a tremor of unease lacing his voice despite the staff member's assurances about Y/N being just drunk. But one glass? His gut screamed otherwise.

Just as Steve turned to follow, the music surged, a deliberate shift in tempo that whipped the unsuspecting club patrons onto the dance floor, creating a human wall between him and the stairs.

Cursing under his breath, Steve fought through the crowd, his eyes scanning every face for a sign of Y/N, his heart thundering a frantic tattoo against his ribs.

******

Meanwhile, Bucky, adrenaline pumping through his veins, leaped out of the car, his heart a frantic drum solo against his ribs. Steve's message, "Y/N's at the club. Waiting for you," buzzed in his ears, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

He strode into the club, his eyes scanning the throng, searching for any flicker of Y/N's familiar silhouette. Then, he spotted Steve, his friend's face etched with a panic that mirrored his own.

"Steve?" Bucky's voice, raw and desperate, cut through the cacophony.

Steve whirled around, his relief morphing into horror in an instant. "Bucky, Y/N is missing," he gasped, rushing towards him and spilling the disjointed story.

Y/N's single drink, the suspicious staff member, the sudden disappearance - it all painted a chilling picture of abduction, a reality too horrifying to contemplate.

The ground beneath Bucky's feet felt like it crumbled. He'd lost Y/N once, for a year that had felt like an eternity. The thought of losing her again, this time forever, was a blow that shattered his already fractured world.

Without a word, he bolted out of the club, the pulsing music a grim counterpoint to the frantic beat of his heart. The city lights, once a familiar comfort, now blurred past him, each neon sign a mocking reminder of the darkness that had snatched his light away.

His mind, a whirlwind of fear and desperate determination, raced through possibilities, each one a fragile thread in a web of uncertainty. He had to find her. He couldn't lose her again. Not this time.

The world spun, a hazy kaleidoscope of blurred lights and distorted sounds. Y/N groaned, her head throbbing like a captured bird against its cage.

Darkness, cold and clammy, wrapped around her, broken only by the dim luminescence of a distant bulb. A taste of metallic fear clung to her tongue, the echo of an impact she couldn't quite recall.

Her breath hitched as movement pricked the edges of her awareness. Footsteps, heavy and deliberate, crept closer, their rhythm an ominous drumbeat against the silence. Then, a figure materialized from the shadows, settling into the creaking chair opposite her.

More than a year had passed, but the passage of time hadn't softened the venomous edge to Ivan's features. Gone was the polished veneer of the Goldenlix capital, replaced by a scraggly beard and hair that hung like curtains around his gaunt face. His clothes, once impeccably tailored, now hung loose and threadbare, a testament to his fall from grace.

"You made me bankrupt, Y/N," he hissed, his voice a twisted mockery of its former smoothness. A cruel smirk twisted his lips, but the fire in his eyes lacked its usual spark, replaced by a simmering hatred that sent chills down her spine.

"And now," he continued, his fingers brushing against her chin with the caress of a serpent, "I need your Midas touch to make me rich again."

Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

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rafesapologist · 1 month

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eternal sunshine of a spotless mind ─ rafe cameron (prologue)

summary: you and rafe were star-crossed lovers, which is why you needed to forget him.

author's note: yes i knew the movie long before ariana's album however the 'we can't be friends' video 110% inspired this so thank you queen. i've always never written a prologue on here but for this story, i think creating one fits the story. so, enjoy!

You rushed down the steps, the ancient stone staircase feeling uneven beneath your feet, each step echoing with the weight of your turmoil. Tears blurred your vision, but you pressed on, desperate to put distance between yourself and the chaos unraveling behind you.

The flickering torches lining the walls cast dancing shadows, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the moment. Their dim light flickered against the cold, stone walls, painting eerie patterns that seemed to mirror the turmoil in your heart.

Rafe's voice echoed after you, a haunting melody of pleading and desperation that sent shivers down your spine. "Wait, please! Just give me a chance to explain!"

But you couldn't bear to stop. Not now, not when the ache in your chest threatened to consume you whole. Each tear that fell felt like a betrayal, a silent testament to the pain of a love fractured beyond repair.

As you reached the bottom of the steps, your breath came in ragged gasps, the air heavy with the scent of damp stone and fading hope. The hallway stretched out before you, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets, each twist and turn a reminder of the uncertainty that lay ahead.

But still, you couldn't bring yourself to face him. Not yet. Not when the wounds were still raw, still bleeding with the weight of unspoken words and shattered promises.

With a choked sob, you pressed on, the sound of your own heartbeat echoing in your ears like a mournful lament. The world around you seemed to blur, the edges of reality melting away into a haze of pain and regret.

But even as you fled, a part of you longed to turn back, to confront the turmoil that threatened to consume you whole. For in the depths of your heart, you knew that some wounds could never truly heal until they were faced head-on.

Rafe's desperate pleas echoed through the dimly lit living room, his voice cracking with emotion, causing a scene that seemed to freeze time itself. Sarah, startled by the commotion, burst out of her bedroom upstairs, her eyes widening in concern as she rushed down to the chaotic scene unfolding before her.

Seeing your tear-streaked face, she hurried to your side, a mix of worry and anger etched on her features. "What's going on? Are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with urgency.

You shook your head, unable to form words through the torrent of emotions flooding your mind. But Sarah didn't need an explanation; the anguish etched in your expression spoke volumes.

Turning her attention to Rafe, her voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "What did you do?" she demanded, her tone cutting through the tension like a knife. Her protective instincts kicked into overdrive as she stood between you and Rafe, a silent barrier against the storm brewing in the room.

But Rafe's desperation only seemed to intensify, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I made a mistake," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "But I love her. I need her to know that."

Sarah's gaze softened momentarily, a flicker of empathy crossing her features. But it was quickly replaced by a steely resolve as she turned back to you, offering a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Whatever he did, it'll be okay. You're gonna be okay," she whispered, her voice a steady anchor in the midst of the chaos. And in that moment, as the world seemed to spin out of control, her presence was the only thing that kept you from crumbling completely.

You couldn't bear to look at Rafe, not when the pain of his betrayal felt like a physical weight pressing down on your chest. Even if you wanted to, your eyes were clouded with tears, your vision blurred as you kept your gaze fixed on the ground beneath your feet.

With each sob that wracked your body, you felt like you were unraveling at the seams, your world collapsing around you. But amidst the chaos, Sarah's presence was a beacon of comfort, her steady hand on your shoulder a lifeline in the storm.

"I… I need to get out of here," you managed to choke out between sobs, the words barely audible over the tumultuous symphony of emotions raging inside you.

Sarah nodded, her expression filled with understanding. "Let's go," she said gently, guiding you towards the door with a reassuring grip. "We'll talk about this later. Right now, you need some space."

With each step towards the exit, the weight on your shoulders lifted ever so slightly, the cool night air offering a brief respite from the suffocating confines of the house. And as you stepped out into the darkness, the world stretched out before you like a vast expanse of possibility, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the wreckage of your shattered heart.

You collapsed into Sarah's arms, the weight of your grief and betrayal too much to bear alone. Her embrace was a sanctuary amidst the storm, her comforting touch a balm to your shattered soul.

As she rubbed soothing circles on your back, you let out a gut-wrenching sob, the tears flowing freely now as you buried your face against her shoulder. "I just wish I could forget him," you whispered brokenly, the words choked with emotion.

Sarah held you tighter, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured softly, her voice a gentle reassurance in the darkness. "But it's going to take time. You're stronger than you think, and you'll get through this."

Just as you poured out your heart to Sarah, expressing your deepest desire to erase the pain of Rafe's betrayal, she suddenly perked up with a glimmer of realization in her eyes. With a newfound determination, she gently pulled away from your embrace, her gaze intense as she looked into your tear-stained eyes.

"There is a way," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "A way for you to forget him."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, a flicker of hope igniting within you amidst the darkness of your despair. "How?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, hardly daring to believe that such a possibility existed.

Sarah took a deep breath, her eyes alight with purpose. "There's a procedure," she explained, her words coming in a rush of excitement. "A way to erase memories. It's risky, and it's not something to be taken lightly. But if you're truly ready to let go of him, if you're willing to face the unknown... it might be the answer you've been searching for."

You found yourself lost in thought, the weight of Sarah's suggestion pressing down on you like a heavy burden. Was it truly worth it? The prospect of erasing Rafe from your memories seemed both tempting and terrifying, a chance to escape the pain but also to lose a part of yourself in the process.

As you stared back at Sarah, her expression filled with anticipation, you couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead if you chose to go through with it. Would it truly bring you the peace you so desperately craved, or would it only leave you more lost and empty than before?

The memories of your time with Rafe flashed before your eyes, a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The laughter, the love, the moments shared in the quiet of the night… Could you really bear to forget them all?

But then, amidst the turmoil of your thoughts, a glimmer of hope flickered to life. Maybe, just maybe, this was your chance to start anew, to carve out a future untainted by the pain of the past.

Taking a deep breath, you met Sarah's gaze with newfound determination. "Let's do it," you said, your voice steady despite the uncertainty that lingered within you. "I'm ready to move on."

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe fic #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader

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azsazz · 10 months

Text

Whispers in the Wind

Azriel x Reader

Summary: The Split-Fic is here!! @writingsbychlo and I are so excited for this! Featuring Tamlin's sister!reader as she navigates life after losing her family.

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 823

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The vast gardens surrounding the Willow manor are always beautiful in the peak of summer. Vibrant lilacs and blush flowers bloom far and wide not only across the Spring Court but live perfectly contained in the lavish garden of your brother’s estate; preened and watered daily by the house staff.

Just like you.

You sigh, pushing away from the bench by your window. Your linen skirts whisper against the floor as you stride across your room, flinging yourself onto your bed. It feels much too big for only yourself, but yet you were all you had, with your brothers and parents gone, save for Tamlin. Your heart yearns in your chest—to bask beneath the summer sun that reminds you so much of them, Neo and Wells chasing you around with teasing grins and flowers for your hair.

You miss them, even if they did fight a lot, both in training and out. Neo was the oldest of the four of you, fiercely protective and you thought him more intelligent than even the Surial sometimes. And Wells was a master of the sword, always willing and more than ready to answer with his fists. Both of your brothers showed exemplary traits that could crown them High Lord of Spring someday, but now…

Tamlin hadn’t ever wanted that life. He wanted to travel and said that he’d show you the white sands of Summer or the Mountains of Night someday because you weren’t allowed to tag along with your father while on official business. No, that was a male’s journey, one for only your brothers.

And now he’s the High Lord, because Neo and Wells are gone, killed in the night by the hand of Night itself, Rafe.

He and his son Rhysand had moved as the shadows within the manor, silent killers that made straight for your family in the dead of night. You had hardly heard more than your mother’s plea before she was silenced, and you burst from your bed chambers only to find Tamlin kneeling in a pool of Rafe’s blood, eyes hopeless as his body thrummed with newfound power.

You don’t feel like eating, hadn’t felt much of anything in the months the rest of your family had been killed. It had been a relief to your remaining brother that you hadn’t been murdered, and he’d left the next night with such a fiery vengeance that he’d nearly set fire to the wisps of long grass in the fields behind the manor.

It has been days since he’s been gone.

The sun dips low behind the rolling hills as night approaches, smothering the light like a snuffed-out flame. It’s both utterly intriguing and disturbing now that you know what it’s capable of.

Tamlin had said you’d be fine when you begged him to allow you to join on his travels. Bron and Hart were here to protect you and would lay down their lives for you if you asked.

As the stars awaken, you shiver, your stomach curling in betrayal. They call to you, just as the shadows do, just as the moon does. She cries silver tears into your favorite spot in the Spring Court, aptly named Moonlight Lake.

You shouldn’t go, shouldn’t wander through the fields like that. Nasty creatures still roam the night, you’ve heard the wolves howling at the full moon high in the sky, and the whispers of creatures that scared the deer into hiding.

Yet you can’t seem to stay away. Your fingers twitch against the soft sheets and it’s hard to keep yourself from getting up and following the moon. You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a steadying breath. Maybe Bron will play the pianoforte to distract you or perhaps Hart will teach you that card game that he loses every week.

Sneaking out of the Willow manor is as easy as it was when you were fourteen and Wells had shown you how. Bron and Hart won’t bother you, of that you know. A mourning daughter of Spring that shan't be bothered, Tamlin instructed.

The grass is cool beneath your bare feet and you follow the brightest star in the sky though you don’t need to. You know the way by heart.

Silver glows, the lake beckoning you with each step. Its mercury waters are dazzling, a mirror that reflects the night sky it wishes to return to.

A voice across the clearing stops you just before you’re about to dip a toe into the star-filled waters.

Squinting, you can’t make out the figure more than a silhouette of darkness. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart pounds loudly in your chest. He stands directly across from you, the lake the only thing separating him from you, and you can easily tell how tall he is.

His voice is a caress of darkness itself, sliding down your spine like a drop of moonlight escaping into the pool below. “Hello, petal.”

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel x you #azsazz x writingsbychlo #acosf #azriel angst

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