#and i know ill be brushed off and ignored if i talk to her. shes 'too busy' watching her shoes until SHEEESSS decided shes done

[chahnniesroom]

in sickness and in health

pairing: kim seungmin x female reader

summary: you're the most important thing in seungmin's life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you. it means that taking care of you when you're not feeling well comes naturally.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, sickness (fever, feeling nauseous, etc.)

a/n: partially inspired by me being ill at work and my amazing coworkers taking care of me and making sure i didn't faint lol.

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Seungmin loves being an idol. 

He loves to sing and performing in front of Stays always thrills him. He loves the other members and really, everyone else that he gets a chance to work with. At times it can be stressful, but for the most part, it’s fairly easy to manage the downsides of being famous.

But when he started dating you, he found out that there are parts of being an idol that he hates.

He always thought that he'd be different from a lot of idols and wouldn't be afraid to show his partner off. The second he met you though, he knew he'd do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe. You understand, of course, and do your part to make sure that only your closest friends and family are aware of who you're dating.

It pains Seungmin to do this, but he knows nothing good can come out of your identity being known.

The two of you are more than careful, sometimes Seungmin feels silly with how cautious he is about meeting up with you. Yet somehow his heart always feels like it will beat out of his chest whenever he sees articles that speculate about idol relationships.

You do your best to stop him from stressing, but it’s something that Seungmin can't quite shake. You're the most important thing in his life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you.

—

The first time his phone rings during a livestream with the whole group, Seungmin brushes it off. The caller ID says it's an unknown number and everyone he knows has been receiving a lot of spam calls and texts lately. 

He swipes away the notification and tries to focus on just reading comments when the same number calls back, a couple minutes later. He ignores it again, but on the third call, he nudges Chan’s knee beside him and subtly tilts his phone screen so that Chan can see. His phone is on silent so nobody watching the live should be able to tell that he's getting the calls, but the timing feels too coincidental for him not to be suspicious. 

"They keep calling," he says under his breath. 

"We'll get someone to look into the number later, just keep ignoring it," Chan advises quietly.

Seungmin takes a quick screenshot of the number, then tries to get back into the conversation to distract himself. The next time he looks down at his phone again, someone is once again calling him.

Seungmin almost reflexively rejects the call, until he realises it's your nickname flashing up on his screen.

You generally don’t call Seungmin without warning, especially not during the day when there’s a higher chance that Seungmin won’t be able to readily answer.

[sent - 3:12 pm]

sorry baby, working right now, can it wait?

His stomach drops when you just call again in response. He doesn’t want to alarm any of the members or the fans when he doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a bad feeling about this. He once again flashes his phone to Chan briefly and leans in close.

“I want to take this, I don’t know why she’s calling, but something doesn’t seem right.”

Chan bites his lip, obviously torn for a second, before he seems to make up his mind.

“We’ve been live for almost 20 minutes, give me one second and we’ll end it so that you can talk to her, yeah?” Chan puts a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder and squeezes it tightly for a moment before clapping his hands together, effectively ending the conversation that the rest of the members were having.

Seungmin makes himself smile as they all say goodbye, but it's obvious that it's forced.

Even though the live ended as quickly as possible, Seungmin still has 2 new missed calls by the time he’s found himself an empty room to use.

"Hello?"

"Uhm hello, is this Min?" a man asks hesitantly. His voice is unfamiliar and it scares Seungmin. The only thing that brings a little bit of comfort is knowing that you’re careful to never call Seungmin by his full name when talking about him with friends or coworkers, you even have his contact information set as a nickname.

"Who is this?" he asks instead. “Where’s Y/n?”

"My name is Hyunwoo, I work with Y/n-ssi. I’m very sorry for interrupting you, but Y/n-ssi said that you were one of her emergency contacts. We tried to call with another number previously, but weren’t able to reach you."

“Sorry, I generally do not answer calls from unknown numbers. Is Y/n okay?” Seungmin swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I- can I please speak to her?”

“She’s just not feeling well and needs to go home. She’s resting in another room, but I can get her, one moment please.” 

There’s a bit of background noise, the sound of footsteps, murmuring, then finally, your voice.

“Minnie?” you ask, sounding groggy. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I know you were working today.”

“Hey baby, it’s okay. You don't have to worry about me. You know that you’re more important than work to me right? I’m glad you got them to call me. How are you doing?”

“I'm tired. I'm okay, just, I was feeling light-headed and have a headache so I can't work. Hyunwoo said he thinks I have a fever.”

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up and bring you home then. Just continue resting until I get there. I'll see you soon.”

Seungmin doesn’t know what he’d do without the other members. As soon as he finishes explaining the situation to them, they’re already calling a car and working out schedules so that there aren’t any problems.

—

Hyunwoo eyes Seungmin carefully when they first meet, likely due to the face mask and hat he's wearing. When Seungmin removes the mask and shakes Hyunwoo’s hand, he's relieved when he doesn't appear to recognise him. It's not exactly a surprise, men are generally less likely to follow k-pop groups and Seungmin hardly looks like an idol when he's barefaced and in the jeans and t-shirt that he wore for the live.

“Thank you for calling me, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Seungmin says. “Sorry I didn’t pick up at first.”

“It’s okay, Min-ssi. Y/n-ssi mentioned that your work might make you difficult to contact.” Seungmin appreciates that Hyunwoo doesn’t make any attempt to pry further.

“And thank you for taking care of Y/n.”

“It’s not a problem. Y/n-ssi is a pleasure to work with and we all want her to get better as quickly as possible. Come with me, I’ll bring you to her.”

You’re lying in a small meeting room that has all the lights off and blinds drawn. The table and chairs have all been shifted to the side to fit a yoga mat that has been laid out. You squint up at Seungmin from under a mis-match of jackets with your head resting on a pillow that matches the couches that were in the reception area of your office.

“Minnie?” Your voice is soft and a little bit confused.

“Yes, it’s me, Y/n. How’re you feeling?”

Seungmin rushes to your side, crouching on the carpet so that he can cup your cheek. Your skin is flushed and hot to the touch. You reach out a hand and he clasps it tightly with his free hand.

“Mm, I wanna go home.”

“Let’s go home then.”

The company car is still parked outside of your office building, close enough that you insist on walking yourself. Seungmin tries not to hover, but he makes sure to keep his arm looped around your waist so that you don’t stumble. The drive back to your place is fairly short, but when Seungmin glances over you’re looking unwell. Maybe it’s just the dim lighting from the backseat, but you look paler than usual and your eyes are closed.

“You feeling okay?” Seungmin asks, squeezing your hand.

“A bit nauseous,” you murmur.

“We’re almost there, just take a few deep breaths through your nose for me.”

Even though it's only a few minutes before they pull onto the street that you live on, it feels like forever. Seungmmin tries to keep you preoccupied by rubbing circles into your palm. Instead of trying to help you out of the car and into your apartment, Seungmin thanks the company driver and opts to just carry you all the way in. 

He helps to change you out of your work clothes and tucks you into your bed. You link your fingers together and protest when Seungmin attempts to leave your side.

“I promise I'll be back in a second, I just want to get some things to help you feel better, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You agree, but reluctantly.

Seungmin tries to stay quiet as he rummages around your apartment, gathering some medicine, a thermometer, a glass of water, and some crackers. Next he dampens a face cloth and brings everything to your bedside table, folding up the cloth and laying it across your forehead. 

He supports you in sitting up slightly to take your temperature, brushing his fingers through your hair as you wait for enough time to pass. You lean into his touch slightly, humming in pleasure when Seungmin switches to giving you a light head massage. When the thermometer beeps, it confirms what Hyunwoo suspected, you have a low grade fever.

“You have a bit of a fever,” Seungmin tells you, keeping his voice low. “Do you feel up to having some water and medicine? It'll help you feel better, I think.”

“Okay,” you say, taking the pills that Seungmin hands you and swallowing them with a bit of water.

“Do you want to rest some more now? I want you to stay hydrated so I can make broth for you or get juice.”

“Do you have another schedule? You don't have to stay and take care of me.”

“I don't have to, I want to. And what did I say earlier? Don't worry about me. I'm not missing anything important.”

“So you are missing something,” you insist, your stubbornness making itself known. Seungmin can't help but find it endearing, especially the way that your bottom lip juts out to form a pout.

“Just vocal lessons. I already know how to sing, so it’s fine. Innie had his scheduled for tomorrow, the two of us are going to swap.”

“Oh,” you say, apparently satisfied by that.

“See, nothing to worry about. Now, what did you want? Broth or juice?”

“Broth,” you decide. “But that means you'll have to leave again. I don't want to be alone.”

Seungmin hesitates for a moment before reaching for something resting on the side of your bed.

“You won't be alone, Daengmo will keep you company, okay?”

Seungmin had gifted the stuffed dog to you the first time he had gone abroad after the two of you had started dating, even though it was only to Japan. You had insisted that he keep it at first, knowing how fond he was of the toy, but he had convinced you that it would prevent you from missing him whenever he was away.

“M'kay,” you say sleepily, wrapping your arms around Daengmo.

“You can close your eyes while I'm gone and I'll be back before you know it.”

“I'm not tired,” you say, although even in the dim lighting Seungmin can see that your eyes are starting to droop. “I'm going to stay awake until you come back.”

“Whatever you say,” Seungmin replies.

He leaves your room, closing the door behind him quietly, and heads towards the kitchen.

Seungmin prepares a couple of pots to make you soup. The first he prepares with some ingredients to make a simpler version of a ginseng chicken soup. He knows it'll take a while to cook though, so he adds water, powdered chicken broth, and ginger to the second. Within a few minutes, the clear broth is ready to serve.

Seungmin scoops a portion of it into a mug and slips an ice cube in so that you won't burn your mouth trying to drink it. He makes his way back to your room as quickly as he can, but careful to avoid the liquid sloshing over the sides.

When he eases the door open, he's greeted with the side of you with your eyes closed, clutching Daengmo tightly. Your breaths are deep and even, although you stir slightly when he sets the mug down on your nightstand.

“I'm here now," he reassures you quietly. “You just keep resting.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say in a small voice.

“Of course, I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

#in sickness and in health #till death do us part collection #chahnniesroom #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz angst #skz fic #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x female reader #kim seungmin x you #seungmin x you #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff #seungmin angst #skz imagines #stray kids #seungmin #kim seungmin

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Mafia!Jeong Yunho x F!Reader TW : angst ; stabbing ; mentions of blood ; hospitals ; it's still kinda fluffy though because Yunho isn't actually an asshole ; Word Count : 3.0k

“Your phone is ringing…” You mumbled tiredly, letting out a little yawn as your arm draped over Yunhos chest, snuggling closer to his side, wanting to ignore the vibrating of his device against the hardwood of the end table. You hoped that he’d ignore it too, but his arm quickly slid out from underneath you to snatch his phone off the table, already on his way off of the bed to leave the room. “You could just let it ring, or turn it off…” You muttered, now wide awake from the sudden shift. 

“It’s just a quick call, love. I’ll be right back.” He tried to soothe you, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, his hand brushing over your hair before he walked out of the room, the door left cracked just enough to let the light from the hallway shine in across the floor. Even though he was talking quietly, his voice was low enough in the silence that it almost seemed loud, the muffled words unintelligible, yet they drifted into the room and filled your ears. 

You tried to listen, but it seemed like the more you tried to hear, the quieter he got. He was always so secretive, sneaking around and never telling you where he was going. You always tried not to let it bother you, but laying in bed, his side now growing cold the longer he was gone, the warmth underneath the blankets had left with him… your stomach began to twist as thoughts filled your mind about what he could be doing behind your back. Was he cheating? Was there another woman, a secret family? Were you the side piece that he went to when he didn’t want to go home to his other family too late at night? 

“I’m back…” He whispered, shutting the door as quietly as he could behind him before climbing into the bed beside you, his arm moving to wrap around your waist once more and pull you against his chest, but your body tensed up as you sniffled softly into your pillow. “Hey… Hey, what’s wrong?” He whispered urgently, quickly rolling you over as if he could see you in the darkness of the room. “Are you ill? Do you not feel well?” 

You held your breath, thinking that maybe in doing so the sobs would subside, but after a few seconds you shakily gasped, crying full force now as you stared up at the outline of him in the faint light that came in from underneath the door. “Y-You’re cheating… On me… I kn-know it!” You stammered out, weakly trying to push him off of you, but he let his weight drop a little more, holding you in place beneath him. 

“What are you talking about?” He sounded shocked, and even a little bit offended that you’d assume such a thing about him. “I would never do something like that… You know that I love you and only you. Where are these thoughts coming from…?” 

“Who called?” You whispered, and now he was tensing up, you wished that you could see his face, see his expression, but just from the way his body reacted to those words, it only made your thoughts seem more valid. “It was your girlfriend… Or your wife… Or fiancee… Wasn’t it? She wanted to know where you’re at? What did you tell her?” 

“No no… God, no.” He sighed, finally getting up, propping himself up on his knees. You could hear the deep breath that he took, the sound of it being forcefully pushed out. “It was my boss… Okay? Please don’t… Don’t assume things like that. You’re the only girl in my life… There’s no one else.” 

“Your boss?” You questioned, unable to retain the scoff that left you. “Right, because everyone's boss calls them at 3 in the morning, Yunho. Don’t play me for a fool, I’m not stupid.” You retorted, rolling over onto your side and pulling the blankets higher around you. “Just be honest with me… I’m tired of the sneaking around, I’m tired of wondering where you’re at. I’m just tired of trying to find excuses for the way you act to make myself feel better.” 

The light suddenly flicked on and you were being forced to look at him again, his face solemn but serious as he stared you dead in the eye. “I don’t want you to wonder, I don’t want you to worry. I want you to believe me when I tell you that I’m not cheating on you. I’m not and I would never. It was my boss, honestly. My job is… Not the best… And I don’t want you getting involved in it. Just trust me, okay? Please?” 

His fingers were gripping tightly into the sheets as his eyes bored into your own. You had never seen him look so serious, so panicked since the two of you had been together. You didn’t know whether to believe him or not. His job had always been kept a secret from you, and even now, he wasn’t going to tell you what he did even though he was practically using it as an alibi. “Fine.” You muttered, huffing loudly as you pulled the sheets from his grip, squeezing your eyes shut to block out the light. You weren’t sure what was the truth with him or what was a lie, but you knew that you were going to find out one way or another. 

“I’ll be back a little after dinner time, alright love?” Yunho said on his way out of the bedroom, his fingers working to finish buttoning his white button up shirt. “Don’t wait up too long for me.” He walked over to where you stood in the kitchen, grabbing a waffle off the stack that you had made. “I’ll take it to go.” 

You gave him a smile as you turned to look at him, nodding along with his words. “Get to work safely, text me when you get there.” He hummed in agreement, his lips wrapped around the waffle. “You’re gonna get crumbs all over your shirt, babe.” You groaned, brushing your fingers along his chest to clean him up. “I love you.” And you did, even if he was doing the unthinkable, the unforgivable, you knew that you’d still love him. 

“I love you more.” He murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, his fingers gripping onto the loose fabric of your night shirt, pulling you closer and chuckling into your mouth when you stumbled forward against his chest. “I’ll try to finish up fast… want to come back home to you.” His voice was husky now, his cheeks burning bright. 

You chewed your bottom lip shyly as you looked up at him, silence filling the space between the two of you, but you quickly patted his shoulder. “Alright… off you go. I’ll see you later, babe.” You murmured sheepishly, and he laughed softly at your shyness, ruffling your hair before turning to head out the door. 

Now came the hard part, the part where you had to follow him to wherever it was that he was going but stay far enough away that he didn’t actually see that you were following him. Was he really going to work, or was he going to meet up with whoever it was that had called him at that ungodly hour last night? 

You were still in your nightshirt, not even caring at this point as you slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed your keys. Did it even matter how you looked? If he was actually working, you’d just stay in the car and go right back home. If he was cheating, well… You were sure that being humiliated by your boyfriend in that way would be much worse than being seen in your pajamas. 

As soon as his car took off, you rushed out of the house and climbed into your own, making sure to keep him in your sights no matter which road he turned down or which side street he took. It was only when he started getting further away from the city that you began questioning where the hell he was actually going. Did he realize that you were following him? Was he just messing with you now? 

Part of you wanted to just turn around and head back home, forget about this whole thing and find a new way to figure out what he was actually doing. There had to be an easier way than this, and maybe when he got home he’d actually question what you were doing if he found out. 

You were on the verge of turning around in the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse on the side of the road… Until he pulled into the parking lot. There were only two other cars there and you assumed that maybe they were just fishermen that were using the dock on the back to sit on. If Yunho was cheating, this definitely wasn’t the kind of place he’d want to meet someone in… Right? 

At this point you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t pull into the parking lot, he would easily spot you there, so you drove for a little bit, giving him time to do whatever it was that he was doing, maybe he’d pull back out, maybe he had the same idea you did and was just using the parking lot to turn back around. 

You drove, and you drove, and then you turned around, his car still in the parking lot when you drove by, so you quickly pulled in, parking as far away from his car as you could before climbing out. Whatever the warehouse was being used for, it wasn’t what it had been originally made for. There was no sound of active work going on, there was no talking that could be heard. The only thing you did hear was the sound of water lapping against the rocky wall just below the pier. You’d need to get in… You just didn’t know how. 

“He’s in your trunk?” Yunho asked in disbelief as he stared at the guy in front of him. “I said to get him here, not fucking kidnap him!” He groaned loudly with annoyance, running his hands over his face before motioning to the door. “Hurry up and go get him, and I swear to god, if we get busted because of your idiocy, you’re gonna be next.” He watched with irritation as the man ran out the door, dropping down into the little office chair. “I can’t trust anyone in here to do shit. And if any of you call me at that time again, you’re out. You understand?” The rest of the men that were gathered in front of him all nodded in agreement until a scream was heard from outside, everyone's head whipping towards the door. 

“Don’t worry! I got it handled!” The man’s voice called from outside, and then light was streaming in through the door as he dragged in the body of what Yunho assumed to be the man from the trunk. “Looks like you were followed, boss. What do you want me to do? Do I kill ‘em?” The man was far too excited as he pulled out his knife, the sun reflecting off the cleanly polished silver. “She’s kinda pretty though… Maybe I can keep her for a bit?” 

The sound of whimpering came from the shadowed body that was kneeling limply in front of the man, and Yunhos skin crawled, his stomach twisting with nausea. He knew that whimper, he knew every single sound that could ever leave your mouth. “Did you hurt her?” He was on edge, clearly tense as he slowly walked over to the man. 

“Of course I did, boss. Just a little bit though… She ain’t dead yet. Just a little cut up is all.” The man said proudly, finally letting go of your hair that he had been gripping tightly onto to hold your head up. “You can have ‘er first if ya want.” 

Your body fell forward and even though Yunho was seeing red, wanting nothing more than to murder the man that had hurt you, you were hurt, and he needed to make sure you were okay. He dropped to his knees in front of you, sitting you up carefully to look you over. “Love… Hey… Y/N…” He whispered, his eyes darting over your body, and it was easy to spot the stain of red that seeped through your nightshirt, the once baby blue fabric turning a dark crimson red. 

Your body jolted as you coughed, blood spraying from your mouth as you did, splattering against his face. “You weren’t… Cheating…” You sputtered, and even though your eyes were squeezed tightly shut, the pain clear on your face, your lips still seemed to pull up into a smile. 

“Of course I wasn’t…” He said shakily, pulling you into his lap to hold you close as his head whipped around to the very confused and very on edge men behind him. “Why are you standing there like a bunch of fucking idiots?! Get my keys and get my car started!” He shouted, although the tone of authority was wavering. He was angry, he was scared. “Don’t talk anymore, okay? I’m gonna get you to the hospital…” He brushed your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead as he cradled you against his chest. “If I were you…” His voice got quiet, his head rising up to stare at the man in front of him. “I’d run now… I’d hide… Because once she’s in the hospital… You’re dead. And if she doesn’t make it… You’re gonna wish you were never born.” 

The man didn’t even have a chance to respond as Yunhos car was pulled up to the door. You were his number 1 priority, you were right now, and you always would be. 

You sat in the hospital bed, munching on tiny ice cubes as you watched the news on the tv screen in front of you. There was a murder in the abandoned warehouse, and there wasn’t just one body found, but there was another body in the trunk of one of the cars in the parking lot. Your car had at some point been driven back to yours and Yunhos shared apartment, although you weren’t sure by who, and right now you didn’t really care. There was only one thing on your mind, one thought that was eating away at you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t want you to be scared… I didn’t want you to think I was some… Evil person. I didn’t want you to leave me.” He mumbled, his hand holding tightly onto yours as his head hung low. “I never thought that you’d follow me… I- I told you not to worry… I told you…” 

“I thought you were cheating… I didn’t know what to do… I just wanted to be sure that you weren’t. Even if you did tell me what you did… I probably wouldn’t have believed you… This would have happened anyway.” You chewed nervously on your bottom lip as you dropped your eyes from the tv screen. “You told him he had a chance… You didn’t even let him run…” You commented when you heard the man’s name on the television. 

“He hurt you… He didn’t deserve a chance.” Yunho stated matter-of-factly, his thumb brushing along your knuckles. “I should have told you anyway… I should have taken you there so you had no reason to doubt and this wouldn’t have happened. Would you have left me though? Would you have been scared of me? Are you scared of me?” 

It was something that you still hadn’t thought about. Were you scared of him? Did you have a reason to be? If you were to try to leave him, would he off you like he offed the man that hurted you? It’s not like you wanted to leave him though… He was still the Yunho that you fell in love with, he clearly cared more about you than anything else. “I’m not scared… Not of you… But they know where we live… They could-” 

He shushed you quickly, although it wasn’t because he wanted you to be quiet, he just didn’t want you to finish whatever it was that you were thinking. “They won’t hurt you, they won’t come near the house anymore. Everyone knows now that you’re not to be touched, you’re not to be looked at even. You’ll be safe, you’ll be protected… I’ll make sure of that. You’re worth more to me than all of the money in the world… I won’t let anything happen to you, not anymore.” He pushed himself up off the chair that he had been sitting in, smiling warmly as he leaned in to kiss you softly. “Now get some sleep, love. I’ve got some calls to make, and then I’ll be right back up here with you… Okay?”

You sighed softly, sinking into the hospital bed and turning off the tv. “Are you gonna be safe?” You whispered, refusing to look at him as you asked the question. You weren’t sure how long he had been doing what he does, and it’s not like he had ever come home with anything that would indicate he was hurt in any way or in any sort of danger, but now that you did know what he does, you worried about him. Maybe that’s why he hid everything from you in the first place. He didn’t want you to worry about him, but now it was inevitable. 

“Don’t be silly, love.” He said lightly, playfully booping your nose. “I’m always safe. I told you not to worry about me, you need to think about getting better. Now…” He pulled the blankets up around you, tucking them in around your sides. “Get some rest, I’ll sneak you in something good to eat after you wake up.” 

He gave you a little wink before leaving the room, closing the door behind him and leaning against it once he was out in the hall. Things would be complicated now, nothing would be the same, and neither of you would be safe once you were out of the hospital. He’d keep you safe though, always, no matter what happens. 

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez headcanons #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez fic #ateez angst #ateez sad hours #jeong yunho #yunho #yunho x reader #yunho x you #yunho headcanons #yunho imagines #yunho scenarios #yunho drabble #yunho fic #yunho angst #txstrayventeezpen

[l0ves1ckf0ol]

hiii! could u write a fic where reader and xavier are best friends and one day she notices those scratches on his neck so decides to ask him about it, but he snaps at her and they start fighting, and he says stuff he doesnt mean like he tells her that she's annoying cus she never leaves him alone blahlbah she feels bad then she leaves and after a few days they finally talk again and he apologizes and they kiss 😝

TALK | xavier thorpe x gn!reader

"y/n, please let's talk."

note: ill do you one better anon, theyre in a relationship now.

ever since wednesday addams made an appearance to the school, xavier acted strange. you for sure noticed that he has been hanging out more at the shed rather than with you, was it because of her? you were never the type to be jealous but ever since that girl enrolled this semester you couldn't shake off the feeling of how she unconsciously has a choke hold on your boyfriend.

it's been a couple days since you've visited the shed, there he was working away on a piece of art, hair tied up in a bun, eyebrows knitted together in a frown. he usually enjoys art, this was the first time you've seen him troubled. there was a unique pattern in the shed, supposedly. it appears that he has painted, sketched and created the same creature in different angles. you were beginning to think there's more to the story than wednesday herself. xavier wasn't the type to communicate unless asked to, so you did.

"what are you doing here?" his frown deepened, you hum, folding your arms. "you tell me, mr. thorpe. you haven't answered my calls, texted or even waited for me at the quad so i can walk you here." you told him, the tension rising as he puts his brush down. once he fully turns toward you, the cheep light bulb of the shed illuminates 3 small scars on his neck. you frowned, taking a step forward as you grab his chin to face another way to make the scar more exposed and visible to you. your hand falls to the side, "care to explain?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow. "look y/n, it's no big deal-"

you didn't listen to him at this point, no big deal? he wasn't even spending so much time with you, he was always chasing that interesting new student and now when you try and make things a little more clearer you find scratches on his neck. what part of a no big deal was that.

"xavier. you have been following that pigtailed magnet for trouble, i went here to talk to you about it, and see you've painted the same monster in about 13 artworks, and a scar on your fucking neck. please be honest with me and do not say that it's not a big deal. it is when you ignore your partner and run off in your tiny little shed rather than express your feelings towards me lately- hell you didn't even bother to let me walk you here." you ramble, silencing him in a heartbeat. frustration was evident in your face and xavier looks like he won't back down so fast.

"y/n, i already told you it's not serious. i'm fine. really. just-"

you scoff, the shed shivering and the groand grumbling, a sign of your anger. but you decided that there was a better time to destroy his shed, just not now. you took a deep breath and the rumbling stopped, "you wanna play this game xav? i'll beat you fucking to it." you mutter leaving the shed, slamming the wooden gate behind you, the temptation to let the earth swallow him for you was insane.

for the past few days not only you were avoiding him but also ignoring xavier's texts and calls, like what he was doing to you in the past days before. xavier huffs in frustration as he redialed your phone number for about 30 times now, he wanted to make things right, he misses you. he for sure didn't want to break your relationship just because of a stupid monster haunting his dreams. at the 34th time, you answered. he got up from his bed, "y/n? please let's talk." he mutters to the phone, knowing just how to make you surrender.

"where baby?" you answer, xavier would like to thank the heavens for your voice, he was so glad to hear you, with a sigh of relief he told you to meet him at his dorm.

once you arrived at his dorm, you knocked once and he already opens it. "y/n, i'm so so so so sorry about everything. lots of shit has been happening ever since wednesday arrived and i-i dont want that to ruin what we have." he tells you, his tone so desperate you'd think that your relationship was on thin ice and he was coming to rescue it. you wrap your arms around his shoulder and embraced him, inhaling his scent and hearing him breathe. you wouldn't admit it but you missed him too.

you pull away and you both sat down on his bed, he talks about everything. how wednesday shows up everywhere and how she was suspicious that he might be the creature rather, the- hyde. you listened to him, as the way he talks just makes you feel relieved. his eyes were darting every single corner in the room out of anxiety, so you placed a hand on his, rubbing the back of his palm with your thumb. once he finished, you smile at him. "see? it wasn't that hard was it?" you told him, caressing his cheek with your other hand. you lay down on his bed and he falls next to you, head burying into your shoulder and chest, his arms sneaking their way around your waist, "i missed you so much, i love you." xavier mumbled, you sigh in content, placing a peck on his head, "i love you too." you whisper as he cranes his neck backward to take a look at you, then your lips finally meet his, a warmth made its way in your body, feeling the most satisfactory relieg in human history.

#gn reader #xavier thorpe x reader #xu's fics #xavier thorpe x gn reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday addams netflix #xavier x you

[dulcewrites]

For You Always

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (kind of lol)

Summary: you always knew Aemond had a soft spot for you, but you always just assumed it was him wanting to look out for his brother’s wife. Soon you find out that his devotion knows no bounds

Warnings: allusions of sexual assault

A/N: I was inspired by the dynamic between Alicent and Larys (and her and Criston). That dynamic is probably the most interesting to me to watch (plus when Olivia and Matthew are together in scenes it’s like a masterclass in acting. Might be my fav two actors on the show rn). I also just love the idea of Aemond being someone’s guard dog. I plan on writing things from this list. And plan on doing things with a black reader :). But I got inspired and it flowed very easily so I wanted to get it out. I am open to request as well! Please reblog, like, and follow if you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Blog masterlist

In hindsight, confessing your sadness to Aemond after the incident was a bad idea. But in your defense, it wasn’t intentional. You found yourself crying, trying to make it back to your chambers before anyone spotted you in distress. And there he was.

Whispers was something you had grown used to since arriving in King’s Landing years ago. Whispers about your family back home, whispers about your life now… including whispers about your relationship with Aegon. Most of the time it would roll off your back. Mainly because the rumors themselves were never true. It’s easy to brush it off when there’s no validity.

It wasn’t until one day you overheard two lady’s maids speaking about your husband. Certain words stuck out. Dyana, crying, Aegon, paid off, and moon tea.

You felt sick, physically ill hearing them talk. You had always wondered what happened to Dyana; lamenting on how good she was with Elia, your daughter. When asked if he knew why she was not around anymore, all Aegon gave you was a shrug before changing the subject. But now you understand why. Deep down you knew Aegon was not a good man, but you naively hoped he had changed after the birth of your daughter. His behavior was always questionable, but this was a new low. You wish you could let this roll off your back like the rest. No use in chalking it up to a rumor; you know Aegon too well for that.

You couldn’t help the tears from falling as you turned away. The walk to your chamber felt like forever. Mind racing; you thought about poor Dyana and where she was now, who knew about this, and selfishly you thought about if people thought you knew all along. That you brushed it off because that is what is expected of a lady in your position. Smile and endure. Ignore and push through.

That people thought you were just as cruel as your husband.

It was the tears on your face that made Aemond stop in his tracks. You tried to wipe them away quickly after you spotted him but it was too late. He all but forces you to tell him why you’re in this state. It wasn’t becoming of your station to be crying in the arms of your lord husband’s brother. But there you were in your room, pouring your heart out.

Aemond had always been good to you. His generosity was not something you were expecting when you came into the family. Everyone had responded the way you predicted. Helena was sweet. Queen Alicent seemed indifferent; not exactly warm, but always there if you needed something. The sicker King Viserys grew, the less you saw him. Aegon was doting when he wanted you, awful when he didn’t. Aemond was the odd one out. Completely shocking you with the concern he shows. You had made up in your mind it stemmed from his hatred for Aegon.

That day, Aemond simply rubbed your back and told you he’d handle anything else that happened with Aegon. It must’ve been your frazzled state that led to you taking that comment as sweet rather than ominous.

Silly you.

It felt like the whispers and rumors only got worse after finding out about what happened to Dyana. By the time you had worked up the courage to confront Aegon, another indiscretion made it back to you.

It seems that your husband has an affinity for servants and ladies in waiting. If rumors are true, at least this one is consensual. The name of a servant you know helps Helaena continues to get bandied about.

You can’t help but feel embarrassment and rage flood through your body. He’s one the princes of the storied Targaryen family, a future king if things go the way certain people in the Red Keep want them to. And here he is, not only abusing his power but making a mockery of you in the process.

A part of you wonders if you should go to Alicent. You decide against it; you know how the game is played. No matter how much she may resent his behavior, he will always take precedent over you. Then you think about going to Helaena, but you hated the idea of troubling her with your mess. So there you were, at Aemond’s door with a rant on the tip of your tongue.

It was nice. Getting your feelings out to someone who shared your complicated feelings towards Aegon.

Aemond rarely responds or gives you advice. Just gave you an chance to let it all out, which is something you appreciated. You left his quarters feeling a bit lighter. As light as you could feel with the position you are in.

You spent the rest of the week trying to avoid talking to Aegon, and spend time with Elia and with Helaena.

“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”

Helaena’s cryptic language was something you had learned to just go with. Though, you did get an eerie feeling after she said it to you with a concerned look on her kind face.

You tried to push the hurt feelings away, and almost succeeded. Until your lady in waiting came to you one night with a nervous look on her face. Reluctantly, she told you news that she had heard.

You couldn’t hold it any longer the next time you saw Aegon. When the conversation started, you were surprised to hear him speak so openly about his cheating. You had just always expected him to act like the whole castle isn’t talking about it.

“What do you mean you told her she could be your second wife,” you hiss at him, trying to keep your voice low.

He winced and looks down at his feet.

“I don’t even remember saying it myself,” he says meekly. “But she surely remembers it. Won’t let me forget it.”

You scoff, and take good look at him. You think about how your mother’s vision for you, and your own blind ambition has landed you stuck with the biggest idiot ever.

“So let me get this straight,” you walked towards him. “You spend your days drowning yourself in your cups, and disrespecting half of the women in the Red Keep. And now you tell me you’re whispering sweet nothings into her ears so she keeps stroking your ego.. amongst other things. Some couple you two make. You’re stupid enough to say that, and she’s delusional enough to believe you.”

“My lov-“ you hold up hand to stop him.

“You will fix this,” your finger hits his chest. “I can’t even stand to look at you right now.”

You leave the room in a hurry, ignoring his tries to stop you. Where you are going at this hour? You have no idea, but you can’t be in the same rom as Aegon right now. But then you get an idea… the dragon pit.

Vhagar can’t fit in pit but whenever Aemond wants to ride her, he goes there.

You feel a bit silly, going to him to whine about how awful his brother is. But when you find him walking from the pit, the words and emotions just flowed out. Honestly for someone so outwardly cold, Aemond handles you so gently.

“To do that, and right in front of you is an insult.”

You nod in agreement because it is. It shows how much he doesn’t care. How much you carry your relationship with him.

“And the most frustrating part is that I just have to live with it,” you think about Elia, and the pressure there is to have another baby, a boy. “I have to not only face Aegon, but apparently the woman who he chooses lay with. I have to hear the whispers not about him being a disgrace. But about me being so frigid that of course he’d seek warmth from another.”

You run your hands down your face.

“What has my life become?”

Aemond doesn’t reply, just gives you an inquisitive look before nodding to himself. He walks you back to the room.

“Everything will be fine. Trust me,” his tone is so certain. You want to be ask how does he know, but you guess that’s what any person says when they’re comforting someone else.

You take a deep breath. Everything will be fine.

The day felt different. You don’t know why. You went through you typical schedule, most of which revolves around caring for Elia. Despite the off feeling you couldn’t quite put a finger on, the day was reflectively uneventful… until Queen Alicent comes to visit you.

She smiles as she holds Elia.

“How are you my dear,” her voice is soft and measured. The question is simple but it makes you uneasy. If things have made it back to you, they’ve surely made it back to her.

“I’m doing well your Grace,” you put on your best face. “Just a little tired.”

She hums in response.

“That’s good to hear,” she steps closer to you, lowering her voice. “I’m glad you were able to take care of any problems that may have arose.”

You blink at her. She’s clearly talking about Aegon and the servant. You did tell Aegon to fix it, but the quickness is surprising. Plus you assumed he’d come whining to you about it after he had ended things.

“I’m glad to know you can take care of things on your own.” she continues, and your confusion grows.

Didn’t know you had it in you? Take care of things? You truly do not understand what the Queen is saying. Before you can get into it, Ser Arryk knocks saying the King needs Alicent. After she leaves, you hand Elia to your lady in waiting.

You must go to Helaena.

You find her in her chambers, embroidery hoop in hand. The bright smile she greets you with drops when yo ask about her lady in waiting.

“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”

Her voice is somber, and you let out a deep sigh. Who is the flower? She clearly knows something but you wonder if even she can even figure it out herself. There’s no way you can go one of your girls, you’d be tipping your hand. And Aegon never seems to be around when you need him. Then it hits you.

I’ll handle it

Everything will be ok, trust me

It couldn’t be. You try to talk yourself out of the idea races into your mind as you walk to Aemond’s room. You squeeze your eyes shut as you knock on the door. The aloofness of his demeanor only makes you more anxious.

“I don’t even know how to ask this,” you give him a tight, nervous smile once he lets you in. “Or that you would even know the answer.”

He’s sitting in a chair, and tilts his head to the side. You pause for a moment. Collecting your thought; the last thing you want to do is accuse him of something.

“She’s gone,” he replied after silence passes through the room. He sounds bored of the careful dance you’re trying to play.

It’s vague. Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean Aegon did something right for once, but then again how would Aemond know that before you. You didn’t want her to lose her job. You just wanted the record set straight, and selfishly you didn’t want people questioning your marriage.

“What did you do,” you whisper, suddenly getting worried.

“I did what Aegon will never have the courage to do,” he stands up, and starts walking towards you. “I protected you.”

“Aemond what do-“

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” he interrupts you. “We took care of it.”

Your stomach sinks. We took care of it. There’s only one person.. no one thing Aemond could be talking about. Aemond on his own is intimating enough

“I didn’t want her dead,” you look at him with wide eyes.

He doesn’t seem phased by your panic. In fact he gives you a smile, or at least closest thing Aemond does to a smile.

“My future queen wanted something done, so I did it,” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

He thinks of you as his future queen, you’ve known that for a while. Everything starts and ends with you in his eyes. Any threat to you is a threat to him. You had grown to understand Aemond’s intensity, but this is a lot even for him. The look in his eye makes you know this won’t be a one time thing. That he’s going to go to these lengths whether you like it or not. Haelena’s words ring in your head.

A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #black!reader

[iiseor]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ lights | prt. 3

Summary: dating Ellie was a battle, but maybe her cheating on you, was the start of something new.

cw: toxic!ellie, biker!abby, fem reader, cursing, cheating, talks of sex, smoking, might be mentions of the reader having curly hair(?).

Note: When you see ・❥・, it means the pov is switching. This is unedited again.

Ellie was a idiot, and she finally started to realize it.

She knew there was something different about her feelings towards you, the second she has even agreed to go out with you.

But seeing you go off with Abby, hearing the way sai and her friends talked about Abby’s affection towards you—made her go crazy.

She couldn’t pin point it, but she never thought about dropping everything and everyone she had ever touched if it meant you’d come back to her that moment.

But it was too late for that now, abby had already one you over the second she brought you to her dorm.

・❥・

“It wasn’t necessarily hard, you just have to get used to the feeling” abby said, describing how it felt to ride a motorcycle for the first time.

You and Abby had been up, sitting in her kitchen for hours, discussing every topic possible.

She kept her promise to you—nothing sexual. She was determined to make you see her different, to make you see her as anything except another Ellie.

“ how did you get used to it?” You asked.

“it was pretty easy, my dad used to force me to ride around the-“

Abby’s words were cut off by the sound of your phone ringing, again.

You reached over, clicking your phone onto silent and looking back at Abby, embarrassed at how many times you had interrupted her before.

“Sorry, continue” you said.

“Sounds like someone needs to get ahold of you” she joked. “Ellie isn’t it?”.

You bit your lip, turning your head down, away from her.

“Yeah” you replied, your tone just above a whisper.

・❥・

Ellie had been texting you non stop from the moment she went back inside the party.

“What is wrong with you el?” Sai asked, grabbing her arm as she finally got her to stop.

Ellie had pushed her way back inside through the crowd of people, the second you and Abby were out of her sight, completely ignoring sai’s desperate calls for her to slow down.

“Nothing, can stop being so demanding? i just need to use the fucking bathroom Jesus” Ellie spit, making the girl drop her arm and step back.

Ellie pushed passed sai, not even knocking before barging into the bathroom and locking the door.

She was desperate for you, her mind was dizzy at the idea of you being alone with Abby right now, while she wasn’t there to stop you.

Before she could collect herself—she was practically harassing your phone.

-

6 unread messages

Ellie

12:33am

whatthe fuck is wrong with you

Ellie

12:33am

I saw you and that bitch you’re fucking crazy

Ellie

12:35am

Pick up the phone I know you’re ringer is on

Ellie

12:37am

Are you really that desperate? Going home with a random girl the second my attention is on someone else? You’re so fucking pathetic

Ellie

12:40am

You’re a idiot if you think she’ll do you half as good as I do

Ellie

12:42am

Answer my calls or ill come find you both myself.

-

You knew ellie meant every word she said.

Abby and sai were roomates, surely all Ellie had to do was go home with sai, making it impossible for you to not face her.

・❥・

“What’s she saying?” Abby asked, her eyes softening at how clearly uncomfortable you were.

You sighed, shaking your head in an attempt to brush it all off.

you needed abby to keep her promise—you needed her to make you forget Ellie ever existed.

“It doesn’t matter” you replied, pushing your phone away.

“It does if what she’s saying is making you upset” she protested.

“Everything she says makes me upset abby” you laughed looking back over to her, frowning at her sudden serious tone.

“It’s just…how she always is. She must’ve saw us leaving the party, so now she’s…mad, like always. But really, Let’s just continue the conversation yea? She’ll get over it” you rambled, moving closer in hopes of her dropping it and continuing to talk.

“Okay” she said, standing up and walking towards the cupboard.

She pulled out another bottle.

“Why don’t we drink a little? Could help get your mind off everything right?” She said, taking two glasses out of the cupboard.

“Yea” you replied, abby already pouring some into the cups before you could reply.

・❥・

“What’s wrong?” Sai asked, Ellie walking back towards her on the couch.

“Nothing” she replied, grabbing sai’s hand to pull her up.

“Let’s go, you’re dorm yea? It’s getting late” She said, leaning over in a whisper.

“Yea…” sai replied, Ellie dragging her out.

-

Sai had full comprehension as to why Ellie tone suddenly changed.

She knew about you…at least the part of you Ellie constantly praised.

There were countless blunders throughout the times sai and Ellie were together. Ellie letting your name slip up more then once.

“Fuck y/n you’re so pretty”

“God y/n”

“Y/n…you taste so fucking good”

Yet, no matter how many times she uttered your name, sai never mentioned it.

Ellie envisioned you through sai, every finger fusing her cells into what your felt like. But The embrace of Ellie’s warm touch, drowned out every illusion.

・❥・

Sai

1:20am

Hey Abby I’m on my way home, are you there?

Sai

1:25am

Please answer before we get close

Abby

1:28am

Hey I’m here, we?

Sai

1:30am

Yes we, is y/n still with you?

Abby

1:31am

Yes? Why? It’s not a bother right?

Sai

1:35am

Not for me…for ellie, just leave before we get there ok?

Abby

1:40am

Why? She can’t kick me out of my own dorm. Just go to hers?

Sai

1:43am

She’s not coming there for me. Please don’t argue right now Abby just go, there’s no point in fighting her. We’ll be there in ten.

Abby

1:44am

Okay, thanks.

・❥・

“Honestly I thought I would major in law, but art was more…interesting” you said, taking a sip from your glass.

“Do you know if your roommates home?” She asked, pouring out the rest of her whisky into the sink.

“Do you know if your roommates home?” She asked, pouring out the rest of her whisky into the sink.

“Umm i don’t think so, i think she was staying at her parents this weekend” you replied.

“Good, let’s go to your dorm then, sai will be home soon I don’t want to brother her” she informed, picking up your purse and leading you out.

Luckily, and unluckily, for the both of you, your dorm was on the same floor as Abby’s, only having to walk a little bit and turn the corner before arriving.

・❥・

“Where is Abby?” Ellie questioned, raising her tone and walking into sai’s room.

“Why?” Sai asked, closing the door behind them.

“She’s suppose to be here? We watched her and y/n go together, where else would they have gone?” She asked, her tone raising with every word.

“Is that what this is about? Y/N?” Sai asked, walking towards the door to let Ellie go, trying her best to hold it all together.

“For fuck sakes sai just answer the question” Ellie yelled.

“I don’t know el, don’t start yelling at me because you can’t keep track of your pet” sai scoffed, walking pass ellie and sitting on her bed.

“Don’t talk about her like that she’s not my fucking pet, if anything the title would fit your desperate ass more” ellie replied, leaving sai dumbstruck, not allowing her to say another thing before the door was slammed. Ellie not having a second to gather any thoughts, other than you bringing Abby to your dorm.

・❥・

“You’re art is very beautiful, you’re so talented” Abby said, gazing around the pictures hung all over your room.

“Thanks” you said, slightly biting your lip.

“I’m going to change…then we can talk alright?” You said, taking out a t-shirt and shorts from your dresser.

“Yea no problem” she replied as you went into the washroom, abby watching your every move.

You were so memorizing, it was impossible not to.

When you came out of the bathroom, Abby was already seated on your small, pink couch. You grabbed out a card game from the side table, and a bottle of wine along with two wine glasses, you had kept in your mini fridge, just in case.

“Let’s play” you said smiling at Abby and placing the cards down on the short coffee table in front of you two.

You sat down next to her, the small couch making it impossible for you two to not be close.

“Okay so we just pick a card and the other person has to answer the question, but you have to close your eyes when you pick or else it won’t be fair.” you instructed, taking the card out of the box and spreading them across the table.

Abby laughed at how serious you sounded about the game and how focused you were on laying out the cards perfectly.

“It sounds great” she said.

“I’ll go first” you replied, smiling at her again.

You covered your eyes with your hand, grabbing a card and flipping it over.

“It sayssss, how old were you when you got your first phone” you read out the question, taking a sip of your wine.

“Ahh I think….16?” Abby replied, watching you as you drank.

“16????” You questioned. “How did you make it through half of highschool without a phone??”

Abby laughed again at your question, picking closing her eyes slightly and picking up a card.

“I have no clue” she replied.

She took a bigger sip of her wine after reading the card, smirking as she watched you turn to look at her—eager to know what it says.

“I think I should pick another card” she said, placing the card back on the table.

“nooo common, some of them are meant to be weird, just tell me” you said, pushing her arm.

She took another sip of her wine, smirking again as she drank

“Okay” She said, swallowing the last bit.

“When was the last time you came during sex?” she asked, her tone lowering.

Your breathe grew heavy, you were flustered by the sudden shift between your question and hers.

You let out a shaky sigh before replying, “I don’t remember that card being in there” you said through a nervous smile.

Abby picked up the card off the table, handing it to you, so you could double check.

“Well…” you let out, Abby cutting you off.

“You don’t have to answer” she laughed, “it’s a stupid question, I can pick another on-“

“It’s fine, I wanted to play the game” You cut her off, taking a deep breathe.

“Mmm…I think the last time…was a year and a half ago” You answered, pouring more wine into both of your glasses.

“You’ve known Ellie for that long?” She questioned, picking up her now filled glass.

“I never said Ellie was the one who did it” you said sarcastically.

Your reply made her laugh harder then before, making you grow shy.

“You’ve been with her for what? Months, I’m sure you’ve had sex at least once, and she’s never made you finish?? Not once??” She replied.

“Abby…” you said, placing your glass down

“I’m sorry it’s just…sad” she said, her tone becoming more sympathetic.

“She’s really that much of a player while being terrible at sex?” She asked, making you both laugh this time.

“Yea..I don’t know why I put up with it” you replied.

-

The room quickly grew quiet after that, the laughter settling down.

Yours and Abby’s legs were so close, she was so close. You didn’t even realize how fast you’d taken down two glasses of wine, her warm figure making your skin fuzzy.

“Why don’t we find something else to do? These cards are…invasive” she said, breaking the silence.

You laughed at her suggestion.

“Oh so after I answer one, nowwww they’re invasive” you teased, gathering up the cards and putting them back in the box.

“To be fair, I did say you didn’t have to answer” she joked, placing her hand on your exposed leg, making your nerves jump at the sudden affection.

-

Abby didn��t pay attention to how quiet you became, mindlessly scrolling on her phone as you organized the cards back in order.

You got up to put the cards back in the nightstand, breaking away from her touch—somehow leaving you wanting more.

it was embarrassing how desperate her touch made you feel, how she didn’t even notice. You were sick, love sick if anything. The smallest bit of affection made you go crazy. But you couldn’t let it show, you couldn’t risk having another ellie.

-

You walked over to sit on the couch, this time further from Abby then before, making her gaze away from her phone and over to you.

“Everything alright?” She asked, placing her phone down onto the table.

“Yea..” you said, your tone going back to just above a whisper.

“You sure? We were just talking so much, now you’re acting like we’re strangers again” she said.

“Abby..we technically are strangers” you replied, avoiding eye contact.

She laughed through a sigh, moving closer to you and placing her hand back on your leg.

Her finger trailed up and down your thigh, never moving past the fabric of your shorts—but every touch sending chills throughout your veins.

“Yea…I guess we are…but it doesn’t feel like it, does it?” She asked, her eyes focused on her fingers.

“No, not really” you said.

“So, what’s wrong?” She said, pausing before speaking again.

“I’m sure the alcohol can’t be kicking in that fast and making you like this…so did i make you uncomfortable? Or is something else bothering you” she asked, moving her hand off your thigh, now noticing the way you shook from the lack of touch.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable…” you replied, pushing yourself to sit up straight.

“Then what’s wrong?” She asked.

“I just…you just, make me nervous” you let out.

She let a deep breathe out, before reaching her hand up and pushing your hair behind your ear.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about y/n” she reassured, her hand moving back to stroke your thigh.

“I know.. you’re just, nice and gentle..it makes me nervous” you replied nervously. looking up at her, your eyes softening.

She looked back at you, caressing your face and rubbing your cheek with her thumb.

The affection made you shiver, closing your eyes for a moment—taking in the feeling of her cold, yet comforting hands.

When you opened your eyes, you pulled back a little. Studying Abby’s face. before leaning back in, Abby so close—just moments away from your lips.

But before you could make any next move, the bang at the door interrupted everything—the knocking so loud, making you both jump back.

-

Ellie had made her way down the hall way, her vision blurry from the amount of alcohol she downed before her and sai came back.

When she reached your door, she could barely make out the number—not caring if she had knocked on the wrong one.

She stood outside your door banging for minutes, yelling until you came out

“Y/N i know you’re home just answer the fucking door”

“Stop ignoring me and open the door” she repeated, until you finally unlocked it.

When you opened the door, she was met with the strong smell of wine soaking through the walls, and the sight of you in a t-shirt and shorts.

“What do you want el?” You answered, shoring her with how calm you sounded.

“Are you drunk?” She asked, looking behind you around your room—trying to spot abby.

In your luck, during the minutes she had been banging, Abby decided to head into the washroom—only promising to come out if you needed help.

“Do I sound drunk?” You questioned annoyed, Ellie pushing by you to let herself in.

“Yeah sure, come in, I’d love to have you over at 2am” you said sarcastically.

“Where is she?” Ellie questioned, pacing around your dorm.

“Where is who?” You tried to act clueless.

“Ellie you sound drunk, you need to leave” you added.

“The fucking girl you left with Y/N don’t act stupid, you were drinking in here alone?” She scoffed.

“She just drove me home, you seemed busy. The other glass was for you, but clearly you had better things to do” you replied.

“God yea I had so much to do y/n” she replied sarcastically. “don’t act like you didn’t see my fucking messages, I know she was here. Probably fucked you and left yea?” She scolded.

Your eyes grew watery at her words. You were used to Ellie being mean, a bitch if anything. But the idea of Abby doing exactly what she said, cut like knives through your skin. You barely knew Abby, yet your mind couldn’t stop wondering. if Ellie never interrupted you, would she have took the chance? Slept with you then left? Ellies words never failed to make you overthink, but this felt worse.

-

“El.. just leave please” you said, your words shaking—nearly suffocating yourself trying to hold back tears.

She scoffed again, grabbing a jacket she had left on your chair nights before, pacing around a bit before speaking again.

“Yea, im leaving, for good this time. Maybe I should’ve just kept you as a fuck buddy” she said, charging past you out the door—never forgetting to slam it behind her.

Ellie’s actions made you jump, small tears falling down your chin—Abby coming out of the washroom after hearing the door slam.

-

Abby’s eyes met yours for a moment. The sight of you in shock made her heart drop, your body nearly giving out at the overstimulation of emotions flowing around you.

Why did ellie have to ruin every moment.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #tlou #🫧 sena #tlou fanfiction #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson

[fanartlover1234]

Baxter Radic x Fem!oc

STORY LINE: Baxter and Y/n had an argument and now Y/n is ignoring him.

Y/n hasnt talked to anyone for the past few days, she just couldn't.

She knew Baxter never ment to hurt her and was only doing it for his sister and because he fekt guilty but she still coudnt bring herself to talk to him.

A few days ago, at Wrens party Baxter admited that he had made sure the paddle of Y/ns boards would fall off as she surfed. Knowing it could have costed her place in the team.

Baxter had tried to talk to her a few times, even doing small thing he knew she liked so he could see her urge to not smile or laugh a little.

She was now in her room, laying on her bed when she heard a knock on her door. She got up and opened it to show Bax she tried closing the door but he stoped it witg his foot and opened it making her stel back a little.

"Please, Y/n let me explain"

He pleaded to her and she just stared at him before nodding and walking to sit on her bed, he followed her slowly behind and took a seat next to her.

"Im sorry, i shouldnt have done that"

"Im not mad that you did that, im mad you didnt say anything, im your girlfriend i would have understood, helped you out of it" she said as she looked at the boy.

" i know it was stupid but if i would have said anything Wren would make sure Elo trows you off the team " he explained as he looked at the girl.

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out so she just pulled the boy in a hug.

His arms wrapsd around her waist as she slowly layed her down as he layed his head on her stomach as she just brushed her hands through his hair.s

"Dont ever ignore me again, it was torture"

"I wont"

"I love you, Y/n" he said looking up at the girl through his eye lashes.

"I love you too"

The end....

Small one but ill make more my loves

Comment some ideas, cuz i love this man

#baxter radic x reader

[ratskinsuit]

No because y’all are ignoring how FINE and absolutely girlfriend material Rosie is. (Mdni, slight smut)

Like just imagine her being your girlfriend, cute romantic dates, sipping wine together, cuddled on the couch.

Her sitting on your lap/you sitting on hers while she does your makeup or fixes your hair or clothes.

The two of you taking a stroll around town, when she suddenly pulls you to the side, her hat blocking the two of you from outsiders are she gives you a quick kiss on the lips, before returning on your walk.

Arms linked together at a party, as she walk you around introducing you to people. “Ah hello n̶̢̤͍̣̱̟͍̤͖͚̩͇̹̋̈́̔͜͝Á̶̡̛̝͙̩̳̀͋m̸̛̫͍͚̪̤͈͔̩͙͔̬͎̅̅̓̃̍̌̽̅̀͑͗̿͘͘͜Ȩ̷̪͚͔̔͗̅̄͒̀̓̏̐͠, oh, who’s this? Oh yes you two. haven’t. met yet, this is my absolutely wonderful partner, are they not just adorable?” Brags about you to anybody and everybody who listens. Yet she is slightly cautious around certain people. Because she does have some enemies (I have no idea who though), who would gladly try to use you against her, and she can’t have anything happening to you, can she?

Offers you a variety of food and delicacy’s from Cannibal town. She will always try to bring you something new every time you two see each other. But if you arn’t one for that certain diet, she will chose to bring you some snacks, and freshly pressed flowers.

She would have a book for you, where you can store all the flowers she gets you into pressed pages. Doesn’t matter if your a he, her, or a them, you are getting flowers and you be better like it. Cannibal town (my head cannon) has a wide variety of unique beautiful flowers, so you book is filled with life.

Her perfectly manicured nails running soothingly across your scalp as you lay you head in her lap. Or those exact same hands gripping onto your hair, practically ripping it from the roots as you lay between her legs, while she softly moans and praises you from above.

She giggles and talks with others nonchalantly as she teases you under the table during tea time, changing the subject if anyone asks questions, brushing it off as you not feeling well. Completely wrong because your feeling great

You two helping each other wind down after a stressful day. She would go from teasing and degrading you, denying your climax , overstimulating you, praises tumbling out of her mouth t ill your crying out, not knowing whether or not you want it to stop or never end.

———————————————————————

A/N: I am still on HAITUS but my mental health is getting better so I may beback this month, to work on the 20+ requests I have lol.

ALSO IF ANYBODY IS PLANNING TO WRITE ROSIE FANFICS PLEASE I BEG OF YOU TAG MEE 🙏 🙏 🙏 (only if you want though, if it’s too much of a problem that’s okay) SHE IS UNDERRATED AND I LOVE HER.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #headcanons #hazbin hotel smut #Hazbin smut #smut #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin rosie #rosie the cannibal #Habin hotel x reader smut #Hazbin hotel Headcannons smut #Hazbin hotel rosie smut #Hazbin rosie x reader #hazbin hotel rosie x reader #rosie x reader #hazbin hotel x you #rosie smut #hazbin hotel rosie smut #Hazbin rosie smut #Hazbin hotel Rosie headcannons #Hazbin Rosie headcanons #Rosie smut headcannons #Hazbin hotel rosie smut headcannons

[asongofmarvelanddc]

Duty PT 5½

PAIRING: Robb Stark X Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,475

WARNINGS: none!

SUMMARY: Robb's Queen falls ill and he is not quite sure how to handle it.

PART 1| PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 4 ½ | PART 5 | PART 6

MASTERLIST | ROBB STARK MASTERLIST

A/N: This is kind of short drabble-type chapter setting up the next two! Please send a message, comment, send an ask so i can hear from you! and hope you enjoy 🥰🫶🏾 (Part 6 dropping tomorrow night –UK nighttime btw 🤭)

Robb has grown used to your company in recent weeks. He was surprised the first time you came to his study for no reason other than to talk, but he came away from that evening happy to have seen and spoken with you.

Eventually, those nightly visits became more of an expectation. Sometimes you’ll have a conversation over tea and cakes and other nights he’ll share a laugh with you over supper with a belly full of ale. Occasionally you watch him work while doing needlepoint or sewing up his trousers – because he always seems to rip the seams – providing a needed distraction whenever he gets too frustrated with the contents of his letters.

It is routine. One he quite enjoys, which is why when you don’t come to his study tonight, he’s not upset, he’s worried. He thinks to ignore it and continue on with his work, but he struggles to concentrate on any of it when his mind keeps wandering back to you.

He has enough after a few minutes and rises to his feet intending to find you and determine that everything is alright. As he walks around the Great Keep, not a single person he passes can tell him where you are. His casual stroll slowly morphs into a hurried walk as he begins heading towards your chambers. That is when he runs into someone.

Elyse.

He almost doesn’t realise it is her at first, so focused on where he is going that he brushes past her. It is only at the sound of her voice when she stops to curtsey that he recognises who it is. He spins back around as he already passed her a little, cocking his head to the side.

“Elyse,” he breathes as he approaches her slowly, “How are you?”

They have not spoken in some weeks now. It is awkward between them. It has never been awkward. He suspects that she has been avoiding him, but a part of him chooses to believe that only because he has in fact been avoiding her out of guilt.

She looks up at him, a thin yet soft smile on her lips. “I am well,” she says, though her pained eyes tell a different story.

Robb has the urge to pry her for more questions. The only reason he has stayed away from her is because things can never be as they were once. Not if he intends to honour his vows to you.

He doesn’t want her to feel as though he has simply cast her aside and forgotten her. But as soon as he’s about to raise a hand to take hers, he stops himself, remembering why he is here in this corridor in the first place. He is trying to find you.

“Have you seen…?” his voice trails off before he can say your name. He doesn’t know if that would be offensive or unnecessarily hurtful.

But it doesn’t need to be said because she knows who he refers to just by the look in his eyes.

“The Queen is in her chambers. With Maester Luwin.”

That means something is wrong, and though he wants to stay and ease Elyse’s hurt, he does not have the time for it.

“Thank you, Elyse,” he lingers for a moment, knowing there are still many things unsaid between them, before making his way to your chambers.

Just as he arrives at the door, Maester Luwin steps outside, jumping when he sees Robb.

“Your Grace,” he bows as best as he can while shutting the door, " Forgive me, I was not expecting you."

Robb frowns as he glances from the closed door to Maester Luwin, “Has something happened?”

The Maester shakes his head slowly, “Her Grace has fallen ill, but–”

“Why was I not made aware?"

"It was quite sudden," he explains, then places a hand on Robb's shoulder, "But it is nothing serious, you need not worry yourself."

Mester Luwin's voice is comforting, but Robb's heart remains unsettled. You are his responsibility now, and whatever pain befalls you – illness or injury – weighs on him. That is the only reason why he is concerned.

The only reason.

He looks at Maester Luwin and asks, "What ails her?"

Maester Luwin seems unsure of whether to answer at first, but then he lowers his voice and begins to speak, "You are aware that women pass bloods once every moon's turn?"

In fact Robb did not know that it happens every moon's turn. He thought it happened once when a girl becomes a woman. Nevertheless, he nods his head as if he did know before this very moment.

"Is that what this is?"

Maester Luwin nods, “It seems Her Grace passes her moonblood with great difficulty. But her pain and discomfort should fade in the coming days.”

Robb glances at the door yet again, debating whether or not he should go in.

“She is resting now,” Maester Luwin says, practically peering into Robb’s thoughts, “You should look in on her, put your mind at ease.”

His head snaps in the maester’s direction, “My mind is already at ease.” There is a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Maester Luwin bows before taking his leave to return to the rookery.

Alone with his own thoughts, Robb considers returning to his solar to continue working. He knows now that no great harm has befallen you and you will be just fine, but his heart is still unsatisfied. With little hesitation, he twists the handle and pushes the door open.

One week after your wedding, Robb began to notice that his chambers smelled different. It almost annoyed him how quickly the room adopted your scent. It clung to everything, the sheets, the pillows – even Robb's own clothes. But over time, he came to appreciate that earthy, yet sweet smell. It gave him comfort.

That is why the first thing he notices upon entering the room is how different it smells. The aroma of medicine hangs in the air, no doubt from whatever treatment Maester Luwin has provided.

You're lying on the bed when he enters, curled up into a ball. As soon as Robb closes the door, your eyes flutter open, following him as he approaches you wordlessly.

"Your Grace," you begin in the softest voice he's ever heard from your lips, "I would curtsey or sit up, but as you can see, I am in no state for such."

"I wouldn’t ask you to," he smiles as he sits on the bed right beside you. He glances at the cup sitting on your bedside table, "What are you drinking?"

You tilt your head slightly to see what Robb is looking at before returning your gaze to him. "Maester Luwin gave me something for the pain," you say, "I don't remember what is in it."

"You are in pain?"

Robb's concern increases when you nod.

"Where is the pain?" he asks.

"Here."

Robb looks down at where your hand is cradling your stomach. His eyes snap back up to you when he hears you wince, clutching your stomach tighter. He hates to see you in such terrible pain, and it is worse knowing he can do nothing to ease it.

"Will it be like this for you after every moon's turn?"

You shake your head, "Not every time. It was not like this during the last one – that is why you did not know it was happening."

Even after seeing you and speaking with you, Robb's worry does not dissipate. There is still a pit in his stomach. It dawns on him that he is not only concerned because you are his responsibility. He wants you to recover quickly because…well, it is you.

He raises his hands to your face, stopping when he sees the startled look on your face.

"Do you mind?" he asks, hands still hovering over you. He proceeds when you nod.

Gently, he presses his palms against your cheeks. You remain completely still under his touch, your heart racing. After a moment, he moves his hand to your forehead.

"What are you doing?"

He looks down, meeting your eyes which are staring up at him, before pulling back from you, "I'm checking for a fever."

You chuckle lightly, an infectious sound, "I'm not sure fevers are common with my particular ailment."

"It is better to be sure."

You smile softly before closing your eyes, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. Robb sits there, listening to your breathing and waiting for you to fall asleep.

After a few minutes, your eyes open again.

"Don't let me keep you, you ought to rest," you whisper, "Your mother has prepared the guest chamber for you."

Robb is taken aback, "The guest chamber? Why should I stay there and not here as always?"

"Because you work from dawn to dusk and I will not have you lacking sleep simply because I am ill. Besides, your mother insisted."

Robb looks up at the ceiling and shakes his head. Of course his mother would be the one to insist. But still, he does not want to bring you any further discomfort anyways, so he obliges yours and his mother's wishes.

"I will be sure to look in on you again tomorrow," he promises as he rises to his feet. His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he finally says, "Sleep well, Y/N."

***

The next night, Robb is not happy when he finds the tray from your supper untouched. It lies discarded on the floor beside your bed, not even a grain of rice has been moved.

You're asleep when he enters the room, and even when he sits on the bed, you remain still. There is no snoring however, which lets Robb know that you are not sleeping soundly. Your forehead is creased and even in your sleep you're clutching something to your stomach.

This illness seems to have gotten worse, which only serves to make Robb feel more guilty for not coming to see you during the day. He leans down and presses the back of his hand to your clammy forehead, then his palms to your cheeks. Just to be sure again that there is no fever.

You wake while he is in the middle of doing this, momentarily shocked to see him practically on top of you. Robb instantly draws his hands back when he hears your gasp.

"I apologise, I was only checking–"

"Robb," you sigh heavily and slowly pull yourself up into a sitting position, "There is no fever. I have told you, this will pass."

He nods even though his worry remains.

"I'm sorry that I did not come earlier."

You wave a hand and shake your head. "It is quite alright, I completely under–"

You're cut off by an intense and sharp pain in your lower stomach and back that makes you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut. Too distracted by the pain, you don't even realise when Robb takes your hand at first, but once his calloused fingers clasp around your hand, you give it a tight squeeze to help the pain pass.

"Are you alright?"

Your eyes open to meet Robb's staring back into them. His brows are drawn together and he is sitting close to you on the bed, both his hands now holding yours.

"Yes," you whisper as you pull your hand out of his grasp, licking your dry lips, "I'm fine."

He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he sits back, placing his hands back in his lap. You can see clearly that he is concerned about you, more than you expected him to be – likely because he does not understand what is happening.

In some way, it is comforting to know that he cares.

“Tell me what I can do to help you.”

Robb is not a man who enjoys feeling useless. Even more so in recent years, considering all the tragedy that has befallen his family. And seeing you this way, sickly and vulnerable – the complete opposite of how he’s always seen you – is deeply unsettling.

"Distract me from the pain," you say, offering him the smallest way to make you feel better, "Tell me about your day. What has kept you so occupied?"

He doesn’t know how talking about ledgers and reports would help you, but he does so anyway.

“I spent much of the day preparing for the arrival of some men from the front.”

“Who is coming?”

“Lord Umber is bringing back some of the men we captured,” he sighs, “Our cells down there are too crowded, and some of the men are workers whose surrenders I’ve accepted.”

You raise a skeptical brow, “You trust Lannister soldiers?”

Robb is surprised – and a little amused – that you’re questioning his decision. He’s not sure he minds, however. In fact, he appreciates your taking an interest.

“I don’t,” he chuckles, “But these are men from the Brotherhood Withou–“

He’s cut off when you grab his hand to squeeze as another cramp hits. Instantly he forgets what he was talking about and gently takes both your hands. When the pain passes, you reach over to the side table and take a sip from the cup sitting there.

You notice Robb's inquisitive stare and nod to the cup, "It's the same tea from last night," you mumble, your eyes feeling heavier, "Apparently, it is a weaker dosage of milk of the poppy."

"Milk of the poppy makes you drowsy, no?"

"That explains why I have slept most of the day," you smile weakly.

Robb chuckles and strokes the back of your hand as you lean back and shut your eyes, "I should not have woken you."

"Perhaps not."

"Shall I leave?" he asks.

"No," you answer in a light voice, barely above a whisper, "Stay."

And so he does. He watches over you even after you fall asleep. It is not until your light snores begin to fill the room, a sure sign that you are in a deep slumber, that he decides to leave. He gently places your hand over your stomach and pulls the blankets up to your chest to make sure that you stay warm through the night.

Before he leaves, he can't help but watch you for a moment, listening to your slow breathing. You appear so at peace, and the sight warms his heart. In that moment, he knows that he has let go of any residual resentment he may have had towards you.

"Do feel better soon, my Lady," he whispers, "I long for our evening chats."

*

Special thanks to these lovely people (and all the new people hiiii!😘 Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist (@’s in bold I can’t seem to tag :/):

@witchywrter, @satan2002, @kingniazx, @ria132love @ietss @spn-obession @hotleaf-juice @simonsbluee @shawty-writes-a-little @sarcasm-n-insomnia @harrietbarnesblog @simonsbluee @delicatelyherdreams @tiredstrangerr @xxgarden @davnwillcomee @are-y0u-sirius @dreamy-caramel @iw4milf @jessyballet @greekktragedyy @spid3rgwen @sasuke-deserved-better @lycheecreams @bport76 @itspbjellytime @forever-and-more @holysmokesblog @callmemaeverick @njadakaufey @albeeox @ethereal-concepts @lacontroller1991 @losers-club6 @pulisvertz @universeoflonelystarlight @idkjj04 @cullenswife @oscarisaacsleftknee @fandomarchiveilyd @bekky06 @random-human02 @labellapeaky @alastorhazbin @shawtybaess @larissareadings @johnmurphys-sass @millies0bsimp @bluesongbird @starrstrucked @lifetimeofadventue @sweet-lilacwine @cherrywinepoison @vixemi @multitargaryen @gxlden-honey @faatxma @stargaryenx @dumbledorezz @starrstrucked @lifetimeofadventue @sweet-lilacwine @vera0124 @sunsetsimpsblog @barnes70stark @hiatuswhore @vyctorya @starrstrucked @lifetimeofadventue @sweet-lilacwine @someone658379 @esposadomd

#robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb x reader #robb stark imagine #got #got imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #richard madden #got x reader #stark x reader #duty #robb stark fic #richard madden x reader #house of the dragon #hotd

[engie-ivy]

(Part Two of There's Bound To Be Talk Tomorrow! Happy New Year! 3rd of January isn't too bad for a New Year's fic, right?)

1378 words

Read Part One here

Sirius doesn't need anyone to save him, but when a charming man wants to steal him away, he isn't going to say no.

How Lucky That You Dropped In

Baby, It's Cold Outside - Frank Loesser

“Lady Lestrange says her son might be willing to consider you again,” Walburga Black hisses in Sirius’ ear. “If you show enough regret and humility.” Before Sirius can open his mouth to reply, her fingers dig painfully into his arm. “I do not have to tell you how lucky we are that he's even willing to speak to you again, after that stunt you pulled at the Christmas benefit gala. I explained to the Lestranges that you were suddenly indisposed, and did not want to ruin anyone's evening, and therefore requested a server to escort you out.” Her nails press into his skin. “Stick to that story, and we may be able to salvage this mess of your creation.”

Sirius had already refused to pay Rabastan Lestrange a visit to grovel at his feet for forgiveness for leaving without word at the Christmas benefit gala, and beg him for another chance by attending this New Year's Eve party together. As Sirius had feared, his mother had then turned to Regulus, and told him he had to attend with Rabastan, for their family's sake.

But Regulus had surprised everyone by refusing. “You- You always say that- that honour is the most important thing for a Black,” Regulus had stammered. “And I've promised Evan I'd attend with him. I can't- can't go back on my word! That'll make me… dishonorable. Right?”

Walburga had placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, and then she had started scolding him, calling him selfish. Regulus had shrunk in on himself, and just when it looked like he was about to give in, Orion Black, who hardly ever involves himself with his children, had spoken up. “The boy is right.”

And that had been the end of it.

Sirius jerks his arm loose from his mother's grip. “I already told you, mother,” he says pointedly. “He was awful, he made me feel awful, and I had an awful time with him. In no way do I wish for him to ‘consider me again’.”

Now he doesn't have to worry about Regulus being placed by Rabastan’s side in his stead anymore, Sirius does not allow there to be any confusion regarding his feelings towards the man.

“You insolent little…”

While her mother is still hissing insults under her breath, Sirius simply walks off into the crowd. At least his mother can't cause a scene in a place as public as this.

Sirius wanders through the crowd aimlessly, trying to ignore lingering gazes and avoid people trying to stop him for a conversation.

“You disappeared on me,” a voice behind him suddenly says.

“Rabastan,” Sirius says, as he turns around.

“People said some waiter was bothering you, and that you left with him,” Rabastan continues. “But surely even you can't be that desperate for attention that you would sink so low.”

Sirius forces himself to smile. “I felt miserable at that event, while you seemed to be enjoying yourself a great deal. The waiter suggested stepping outside, and I agreed, so you could stay and enjoy your night.” There. Technically the truth, without implying any ill intentions towards Rabastan.

“I know what you're doing, Black,” Rabastan says, taking a step forward. “You're playing hard to get, hoping that by letting me think I can't have you, I'm only going to want you more.” He grins in a way that makes Sirius’ skin crawl. “Well, let me tell you,” Rabastan suddenly takes another step forward, crowding Sirius’ space, placing one hand on his waist and leaning down, whispering so close that his lips almost brush Sirius’ ear. “You're absolutely right.”

Sirius freezes, completely taken off guard. Just when he jerks his head back, he hears a voice behind him.

“Mister Black? There's a phone call for you at the front desk.”

Gratefully, Sirius turns towards the receptionist from the high-class hotel the party is being held at.

“If you could follow me please?” The young blond woman requests in a measured, polite tone.

Sirius nods and rushes after her, eager to get away from Rabastan.

“So, where do I-?” Sirius begins as he approaches the front desk, but then he hears a voice behind him.

“Hi there, don't you look fetching.”

Sirius whirls around. “Remus!” He exclaims, his face lighting up. “What are you doing here?”

Remus grins at him. “I'm here to steal you away.”

“Oh?” Sirius asks, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yup,” Remus replies, jumping from the table he had been sitting on. “Not to sound arrogant– I mean, if you want to listen to arrogant men, staying at this party actually seems like the best option– but I think I can give you a better time than you can have here.”

“Well,” Sirius says. “Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He holds out his hand. “Lead the way.”

Sirius’ stomach does a flip at the bright smile Remus directs at him. Remus takes his hand and starts dragging Sirius towards the door. “Thanks a million, Marls!” He calls over his shoulder. “I owe you big time!”

“Don't you worry, Lupin,” the receptionist replies, sounding a lot less professional than before. “I'll figure out a way for you to make it up to me. And you were right, by the way,” she adds, leaning with her elbows on her desk and resting her chin on her hand. “He is very dreamy.”

“What is that?”

“It's not the newest model,” Remus admits. “And it's a bit rusty here and there, but I promise you that it does the job. It'll work perfectly fine as our getaway-”

“Bicycle,” Sirius finishes dryly.

“And what's wrong with a bicycle?” Remus asks airily. “It's dependable, a lot more inconspicuous than a motorcycle if you want to sneak away, and a lot less polluting.”

“I thought you loved my motorcycle!” Sirius gasps.

Remus looks at Sirius from over his shoulder as he unlocks his bike. “I love the sight of you on your motorcycle,” he smirks.

“I'll take it,” Sirius laughs.

While a bicycle might be inconspicuous, Sirius and Remus are anything but. After three failed attempts of Remus cycling in a slow pace so Sirius can jump on the back to sit on the carrier, both of them are laughing so hard hotel guests are peering out the windows to see what that's all about.

Eventually they succeed, and when Sirius has his arms wrapped around Remus from behind, tighter than strictly necessary, and his cheek rests against Remus’ back, he realizes bicycles really aren't so bad.

“You're going to murder me, aren't you?” Sirius complains. “This is how I die. This is what I get for going off with strange men.”

Remus just chuckles as he leads Sirius up the narrow, wooden stairs of the old, dingy flat he brought Sirius to. When they finally reach a rusty door at the top of the final flight of stairs, Remus unlocks it with a key he fishes from his pocket and pushes the squeaky door open.

“Wow,” Sirius whispers.

There's a small space where the rooftop is flat, and from which you can overlook all of London. The space is covered by a blanket, and on the blanket are a cheap bottle of champagne and two glasses, plus a box of leftover Christmas cookies.

“You like it?” Remus asks softly, taking Sirius’ hand.

“Like it?” Sirius beams at Remus as he turns towards him. “Remus, I love it!”

From their spot, they have a perfect view over all the fireworks lighting up the sky above London. While the fireworks must be quite a beautiful sight, Sirius can't imagine it can compare to the look in Remus’ eyes before he kisses him at midnight.

Their lips meet while fireworks explode above their heads, unnoticed. When they break apart, they rest their foreheads together and gaze into each other's eyes with similar smiles on their faces.

“You know,” Sirius whispers, taking Remus’ hand and tangling their fingers together. “If you keep stealing me away like this, at some point I'm not going to want to return.”

Remus smiles. “You know,” he says, while reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear. “At some point I'm not going to want to let you go.”

#wolfstar new year #fancy sirius and bold remus #wolfstar christmas fics #wolfstar christmas #wolfstar holiday fluff #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

[hopelesslys-world]

50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH. 1

Pairing: Christian Grey x innocent!reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

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*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

𝐈 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐍 the reflection of the mirror. Damn my hair—it just won’t behave! And also damn Isabella Clark for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission.

I must not sleep with it wet. I must not sleep with it wet. Reciting this mantra several times, I attempt, once more, to bring it under control with the brush. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at my reflection in the mirror, you blow dry your hair into oblivion and with the help of some hairspray you managed to put your soft curls into place.

Now you finally look somewhat presentable.

Bella is my roommate, and she has chosen today of all days to succumb to the flu. Therefore, she cannot attend the interview she’d arranged to do, with some mega-industrialist tycoon I’ve never heard of, for the student newspaper. So I have been volunteered.

I have final exams to cram for, one essay to finish, and I’m supposed to be working this afternoon, but no–today I have to drive a hundred and sixty-five miles to downtown Seattle in order to meet the enigmatic CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

As an exceptional entrepreneur and major benefactor of our University, his time is extraordinarily precious—much more precious than mine–but he has granted Bella an interview. A real coup, she tells me.

Damn her extra-curricular activities.

Bella is huddled on the couch in the living room. “Y/N, I’m sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview. It will take another six to reschedule, and we’ll both have graduated by then. As the editor, I can’t blow this off. Please,” Bella begs me in her rasping, sore throat voice.

How does she do it? Even ill she looks gamine and gorgeous, strawberry blonde hair in place and green eyes bright, although now red-rimmed and runny. I ignore my pang of unwelcome sympathy.

“Of course I’ll go Bella. You should get back to bed. Would you like some Nyquil or Tylenol?”

“Nyquil, please. Here are the questions and my mini-disc recorder. Just press record here. Make notes, I’ll transcribe it all.”

“I know nothing about him,” I murmur, trying and failing to suppress my rising panic.

“The questions will see you through. Go. It’s a long drive. I don’t want you to be late.”

“Okay, I’m going. Get back to bed. I made you some soup to heat up later.” I stare at her fondly. Only for you, Bella, would I do this.

“I will. Good luck. And thanks Y/N/N – as usual, you’re my lifesaver.”

Gathering my things, I smile wryly at her, then head out the door to the car. I cannot believe I have let Bella talk me into this. But then Bella can talk anyone into anything.

She’ll make an exceptional journalist. She’s articulate, strong, persuasive, argumentative, beautiful – and she’s my dearest, dearest friend.

The roads are clear as I set off from Vancouver, WA toward Portland and the I-5. It’s early, and I don’t have to be in Seattle until two this afternoon. Fortunately, Bella’s lent me her sporty Mercedes CLK.

I’m not sure Wanda, my old VW Beetle, would make the journey in time. Oh, the Mercedes is a fun drive, and the miles slip away as I floor the pedal to the metal.

My destination is the headquarters of Mr. Grey’s global enterprise. It’s a huge twenty-story office building, all curved glass and steel, an architect’s utilitarian fantasy, with Grey House written discreetly in steel over the glass front doors.

It’s a quarter to two when I arrive, greatly relieved that I’m not late as I walk into the enormous – and frankly intimidating – glass, steel, and white sandstone lobby.

Behind the solid sandstone desk, a very attractive, groomed, blonde young woman smiles pleasantly at me. She’s wearing the sharpest charcoal suit jacket and white shirt I have ever seen. She looks immaculate.

“I’m here to see Mr. Grey. Y/N Y/L/N for Isabella Clark.”

“Excuse me one moment, Miss Y/L/N.” She arches her eyebrow slightly as I stand self-consciously before her. I am beginning to wish I’d borrowed one of Bella’s formal blazers.

My outfit definitely didn't suit for something like this, but at the same time I've neve done anything like this.

I love my skirts, basically all of my closet is filled with skirts, dresses, sweaters and the occasional jeans and formal pants.

For me, this is smart. I tuck one of the escaped tendrils of my hair behind my ear as I pretend she doesn’t intimidate me.

“Miss Clark is expected. Please sign in here, Miss Y/L/N. You’ll want the last elevator on the right, press for the twentieth floor.” She smiles kindly at me, amused no doubt, as I sign in.

She hands me a security pass that has VISITOR very firmly stamped on the front. I can’t help my smirk. Surely it’s obvious that I’m just visiting. I don’t fit in here at all. Nothing changes, I inwardly sigh. Thanking her, I walk over to the bank of elevators pastthe two security men who are both far more smartly dressed than I am in their well-cut black suits.

The elevator whisks me with terminal velocity to the twentieth floor. The doors slide open, and I’m in another large lobby – again all glass, steel, and white sandstone. I’m confronted by another desk of sandstone and another young blonde woman dressed impeccably in black and white who rises to greet me.

“Miss Y/L/N, could you wait here, please?” She points to a seated area of white leather chairs.

Behind the leather chairs is a spacious glass-walled meeting room with an equally spacious dark wood table and at least twenty matching chairs around it. Beyond that, there is a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the Seattle skyline that looks out through the city toward the Sound. It’s a stunning vista, and I’m momentarily paralyzed by the view. Wow.

I sit down, fish the questions from my bag, and go through them, inwardly cursing Bella for not providing me with a brief biography. I know nothing about this man I’m about to interview. He could be ninety or he could be thirty.

The uncertainty is galling, and my nerves resurface, making me fidget. I’ve never been comfortable with one-on-one interviews, preferring the anonymity of a group discussion where I can sit inconspicuously at the back of the room. To be honest, I prefer my own company, reading a classic British novel, curled up in a chair in the campus library. Not sitting twitching nervously in a colossal glass and stone edifice.

I roll my eyes at myself. Get a grip, Y/N. Judging from the building, which is too clinical and modern, I guess Grey is in his forties: fit, tanned, and fair-haired to match the rest of the personnel.

Another elegant, flawlessly dressed blonde comes out of a large door to the right. What is it with all the immaculate blondes? It’s like Stepford here.

Taking a deep breath, I stand up.

“Miss Y/L/N?” the latest blonde asks.

“Yes,” I croak, and clear my throat. “Yes.” There, that sounded more confident.

“Mr. Grey will see you in a moment. May I take your coat?”

“Oh please.” I struggle out of the long black coat.

“Have you been offered any refreshment?”

“Um – no.”

Oh dear, is Blonde Number One in trouble?

Blonde Number Two frowns and eyes the young woman at the desk.

“Would you like tea, coffee, water?” she asks, turning her attention back to me.

“A glass of water. Thank you,” I murmur.

“Olivia, please fetch Miss Y/L/N a glass of water.” Her voice is stern. Olivia scoots up immediately and scurries to a door on the other side of the foyer.

“My apologies, Miss Y/L/N, Olivia is our new intern. Please be seated. Mr. Grey will be another five minutes.”

Olivia returns with a glass of iced water.

“Here you go, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you.”

Blonde Number Two marches over to the large desk, her heels clicking and echoing on the sandstone floor. She sits down, and they both continue their work.

Perhaps Mr. Grey insists on all his employees being blonde. I’m wondering idly if that’s legal, when the office door opens and a tall, elegantly dressed, attractive man with short dreads exits. I have definitely worn the wrong clothes.

He turns and says through the door. “Golf, this week, Grey.”

I don’t hear the reply. He turns, sees me, and smiles, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. Olivia has jumped up and called the elevator. She seems to excel at jumping from her seat. She’s more nervous than me!

“Good afternoon ladies,” he says as he departs through the sliding door.

“Mr. Grey will see you now, Miss Y/L/N. Do go through,” Blonde Number Two says.

I stand rather shakily trying to suppress my nerves. Gathering up my bag, I abandon my glass of water and make my way to the partially open door.

“You don’t need to knock – just go in.” She smiles kindly.

I push open the door and stumble through the impressively giant office. I notice a man his face hidden behind the computer. But in a moment he raises his head and approaches me.

That's when I see his face.

Holy Cow, his young nothing like I'd imagined him.

“Miss Clark” He extends a long-fingered hand to me. “I’m Christian Grey.”

So young – and attractive, very attractive. He’s tall, dressed in a fine gray suit, white shirt, and black tie with unruly dark copper colored hair and intense, bright gray eyes that regard me shrewdly. It takes a moment for me to find my voice.

“Um. Actually–” I mutter. If this guy is over thirty then I’m a monkey’s uncle. In a daze, I place my hand in his and we shake. As our fingers touch, I feel an odd exhilarating shiver run through me. I withdraw my hand hastily, embarrassed. Must be static.

I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my heart rate. “Miss Clark is indisposed, so she sent me. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Grey.”

“And you are?” His voice is warm, possibly amused, but it’s difficult to tell from his impassive expression. He looks mildly interested, but above all, polite.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m studying English Literature with Bella, um… Isabella… um… Miss Clark at Washington State.”

“I see,” he says simply. I think I see the ghost of a smile in his expression, but I’m not sure.

“Would you like to sit?” He waves me toward a white leather buttoned L-shaped couch.

His office is way too big for just one man. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, there’s a huge modern dark-wood desk that six people could comfortably eat around. It matches the coffee table by the couch. Everything else is white – ceiling, floors, and walls except, on the wall by the door, where a mosaic of small paintings hang, thirty-six of them arranged in a square. They are exquisite – a series of mundane, forgotten objects painted in such precise detail they look like photographs. Displayed together, they are breathtaking.

“A local artist. Trouton,” says Grey when he catches my gaze.

“They’re lovely. Raising the ordinary to extraordinary,” I murmur, distracted both by him and the paintings. He cocks his head to one side and regards me intently.

“I couldn’t agree more, Miss Y/L/N,” he replies, his voice soft and for some inexplicable reason I find myself blushing.

Apart from the paintings, the rest of the office is cold, clean, and clinical. I wonder if it reflects the personality of the person who sinks gracefully into one of the white leather chairs opposite me. I shake my head, disturbed at the direction of my thoughts, and retrieve Bella’s questions from my bag.

Next, I set up the mini-disc recorder and am all fingers and thumbs, dropping it twice on the coffee table in front of me. Mr. Grey says nothing, waiting patiently – I hope – as I become increasingly embarrassed and flustered. When I pluck up the courage to look at him, he’s watching me, one hand relaxed in his lap and the other cupping his chin and trailing his long index finger across his lips. I think he’s trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry,” I stutter. “I’m not used to this.”

“Take all the time you need, Miss Y/L/N,” he says.

“Do you mind if I record your answers?”

“After you’ve taken so much trouble to set up the recorder – you ask me now?”

I flush. He’s teasing me? I hope. I smile shyly, unsure what to say, and I think he takes pity on me because he relents. “No, I don’t mind.”

“Did Bella, I mean, Miss Clark, explain what the interview was for?”

“Yes. To appear in the graduation issue of the student newspaper as I shall be conferring the degrees at this year’s graduation ceremony.”

Oh! This is news to me, and I’m temporarily pre-occupied by the thought that someone not much older than me – okay, maybe six years or so, and okay, mega successful, but still – is going to present me with my degree.

I frown, dragging my wayward attention back to the task at hand.

“Good,” I swallow nervously. “I have some questions, Mr. Grey.” I smooth a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“I thought you might,” he says, deadpan. He’s laughing at me. My cheeks heat at the realization, and I sit up and square my shoulders in an attempt to look taller and more intimidating. Pressing the start button on the recorder, I try to look professional.

“You’re very young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you owe your success?” I glance up at him. His smile is rueful, but he looks vaguely disappointed.

“Business is all about people, Miss Y/L/N, and I’m very good at judging people. I know how they tick, what makes them flourish, what doesn’t, what inspires them, and how to incentivize them. I employ an exceptional team, and I reward them well.” He pauses and fixes me with his gray stare.

“My belief is to achieve success in any scheme one has to make oneself master of that scheme, know it inside and out, know every detail. I work hard, very hard to do that. I make decisions based on logic and facts. I have a natural gut instinct that can spot and nurture a good solid idea and good people. The bottom line is, it’s always down to good people.”

“Maybe you’re just lucky.” This isn’t on Bella’s list – but he’s so arrogant. His eyes flare momentarily in surprise.

“I don’t subscribe to luck or chance, Miss Y/L/N. The harder I work the more luck I seem to have. It really is all about having the right people on your team and directing theirenergies accordingly. I think it was Harvey Firestone who said ‘the growth and development of people is the highest calling of leadership.’ ”

“You sound like a control freak.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Oh, I exercise control in all things, Miss Y/L/N,” he says without a trace of humor in his smile. I look at him, and he holds my gaze steadily, impassive. My heartbeat quickens, and my face flushes again.

Why does he have such an unnerving effect on me? His overwhelming good-looks maybe? The way his eyes blaze at me? The way he strokes his index finger against his lower lip? I wish he’d stop doing that.

“Besides, immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things,” he continues, his voice soft.

“Do you feel that you have immense power?” Control Freak.

“I employ over forty thousand people Miss Y/L/N. That gives me a certain sense of responsibility – power, if you will. If I were to decide I was no longer interested in the telecommunications business and sell up, twenty thousand people would struggle to make their mortgage payments after a month or so.”

My mouth drops open. I am staggered by his lack of humility. “Don’t you have a board to answer to?” I ask, disgusted.

“I own my company. I don’t have to answer to a board.” He raises an eyebrow at me.

I flush. Of course, I would know this if I had done some research. But holy crap, he’s so arrogant. I change tack.

“And do you have any interests outside your work?”

“I have varied interests, Miss Y/L/N.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Very varied.”

And for some reason, I’m confounded and heated by his steady gaze. His eyes are alight with some wicked thought.

“But if you work so hard, what do you do to chill out?”

“Chill out?” He smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. I stop breathing. He really is beautiful. No one should be this good-looking.

“Well, to ‘chill out’ as you put it – I sail, I fly, I indulge in various physical pursuits.”

He shifts in his chair. “I’m a very wealthy man, Miss Y/L/N, and I have expensive and absorbing hobbies.”

I glance quickly at Bella’s questions, wanting to get off this subject.

“You invest in manufacturing. Why, specifically?” I ask. Why does he make me so uncomfortable?

“I like to build things. I like to know how things work: what makes things tick, how to construct and deconstruct. And I have a love of ships. What can I say?”

“That sounds like your heart talking rather than logic and facts.”

His mouth quirks up, and he stares appraisingly at me. “Possibly. Though there are people who’d say I don’t have a heart.”

“Why would they say that?” I ask, intrigued by that information.

“Because they know me well.” His lip curls in a wry smile.

“Would your friends say you’re easy to get to know?” And I regret the question as soon as I say it. It’s not on Bella’s list.

“I’m a very private person, Miss Y/L/N. I go a long way to protect my privacy. I don’t often give interviews,” he trails off.

“Why did you agree to do this one?”

“Because I’m a benefactor of the University, and for all intents and purposes, I couldn’t get Miss Clark off my back. She badgered and badgered my PR people, and I admire that kind of tenacity.”

I know how tenacious Bella can be. That’s why I’m sitting here squirming uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze, when I should be studying for my exams.

“You also invest in farming technologies. Why are you interested in this area?”

“We can’t eat money, Miss Y/L/N, and there are too many people on this planet who don’t have enough to eat.”

“That sounds very philanthropic. Is it something you feel passionately about? Feeding the world’s poor?”

He shrugs, very non-committal. “It’s shrewd business,” he shrugs, though I think he’s being disingenuous. It doesn’t make sense – feeding the world’s poor? I can’t see the financial benefits of this, only the virtue of the ideal. I glance at the next question, confused by his attitude.

“Do you have a philosophy? If so, what is it?”

“I don’t have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle. I’m very singular, driven. I like control – of myself and those around me.”

“So you want to possess things?” You are a control freak.

“I want to deserve to possess them, but yes, bottom line, I do.”

“You sound like the ultimate consumer.”

“I am.” He smiles, but the smile doesn’t touch his eyes. Again this is at odds with someone who wants to feed the world, so I can’t help thinking that we’re talking about something else, but I’m absolutely mystified as to what it is. I swallow hard. The temperature in the room is rising or maybe it’s just me. I just want this interview to be over.

Surely Bella has enough material now? I glance at the next question.“You were adopted. How far do you think that’s shaped the way you are?”

Oh, this is personal. I stare at him, hoping he’s not offended. His brow furrows. “I have no way of knowing.”

My interest is piqued.

“How old were you when you were adopted?”

“That’s a matter of public record, Miss Y/L/N.” His tone is stern. I flush, again. Crap.

Yes of course – if I’d known I was doing this interview, I would have done some research. I move on quickly.

“You’ve had to sacrifice a family life for your work.”

“That’s not a question.” He’s terse.

“Sorry.” I squirm, and he’s made me feel like an errant child. I try again. “Have you had to sacrifice a family life for your work?”

“I have a family. I have a brother and a sister and two loving parents. I’m not interested in extending my family beyond that.”

“Are you gay, Mr. Grey?”

He inhales sharply, and I cringe, mortified. Shoot. Why didn’t I employ some kind of filter before I read this straight out? How can I tell him I’m just reading the questions?

Damn Bella and her curiosity!

“No Y/N, I’m not.” He raises his eyebrows, a cool gleam in his eyes. He does

not look pleased.

“I apologize. It’s um… written here.” It’s the first time he’s said my name. My heartbeat has accelerated, and my cheeks are heating up again. Nervously, I tuck my loosened hair behind my ear.

He cocks his head to one side.

“These aren’t your own questions?”

The blood drains from my head. Oh no.

“Err… no. Bella – Miss Clark – she compiled the questions.”

“Are you colleagues on the student paper?”

I have nothing to do with the student paper. It’s her extra-curricular activity, not mine. My face is aflame. “No. She’s my roommate.”

He rubs his chin in quiet deliberation, his gray eyes appraising me. “Did you volunteer to do this interview?” he asks, his voice deadly quiet.

Hang on, who’s supposed to be interviewing whom? His eyes burn into me, and I’m compelled to answer with the truth.

“I was drafted. She’s not well.” My voice is weak and apologetic.

“That explains a great deal.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Blonde Number Two enters. “Mr. Grey, forgive me for interrupting, but your next meeting is in two minutes.”

“We’re not finished here, Andrea. Please cancel my next meeting.”

Andrea hesitates, gaping at him. She’s appears lost. He turns his head slowly to face her and raises his eyebrows. She flushes bright pink. Oh good. It’s not just me.

“Very well, Mr. Grey,” she mutters, then exits. He frowns, and turns his attention back to me.

“Where were we, Miss Y/L/N?”

Oh, we’re back to ‘Miss Y/L/N’ now.

“Please don’t let me keep you from anything.”

“I want to know about you. I think that’s only fair.” His gray eyes are alight with curiosity.

Where’s he going with this? He places his elbows on the arms of the chair and steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. His mouth is very… distracting. I swallow.

“There’s not much to know,” I say, flushing again.

“What are your plans after you graduate?”

I shrug, thrown by his interest. Come to Seattle with Bella, find a place, find a job. I haven’t really thought beyond my finals.

“I haven’t made any plans, Mr. Grey. I just need to get through my final exams.”

Which I should be studying for now rather than sitting in your palatial, swanky, sterile office, feeling uncomfortable under your penetrating gaze. “We run an excellent internship program here,” he says quietly.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Is he offering me a job? “Oh. I’ll bear that in mind,” I answer, completely confounded. “Though I’m not sure I’d fit in here.”

Oh no. I’m musing out loud again.

“Why do you say that?” He cocks his head to one side, intrigued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” I’m uncoordinated, scruffy, and I’m not blonde.

“Not to me,” he murmurs. His gaze is intense, all humor gone, and strange muscles deep in my belly clench suddenly. I tear my eyes away from his scrutiny and stare blindly down at my knotted fingers.

What’s going on? I have to go – now. I lean forward to retrieve the recorder.

“Would you like me to show you around?” he asks.

“I’m sure you’re far too busy, Mr. Grey, and I do have a long drive.”

“You’re driving back to WSU in Vancouver?” He sounds surprised, anxious even. He glances out of the window. It’s begun to rain. “Well, you’d better drive carefully.” His tone is stern, authoritative.

Why should he care? “Did you get everything you need?” he adds.

“Yes sir,” I reply, packing the recorder into my bag. His eyes narrow, speculatively.

“Thank you for the interview, Mr. Grey.”

“The pleasure’s been all mine,” he says, polite as ever.

As I rise, he stands and holds out his hand.

“Until we meet again, Miss Y/L/N.” And it sounds like a challenge, or a threat, I’m not sure which. I frown.

When will we ever meet again? I shake his hand once more, astounded that that odd current between us is still there. It must be my nerves.

“Mr. Grey.” I nod at him. Moving with lithe athletic grace to the door, he opens it wide.

“Allow me to escort you outside.” He gives me a small smile.

He's so polite now.

“Sure, Mr. Grey,” I smile, and his smile widens. Together, we walk into the foyer. Andrea and Olivia both look up, equally surprised.

“Did you have a coat?” Grey asks.

“Yes.” Olivia leaps up and retrieves my black, which Grey takes from her before she can hand it to me. He holds it up and, feeling ridiculously self-conscious, I shrug it on.

Grey places his hands for a moment on my shoulders. I gasp at the contact. If he notices my reaction, he gives nothing away. His long index finger presses the button summoning the elevator, and we stand waiting – awkwardly on my part, coolly self-possessed on his.

The doors open, and I hurry in desperate to escape. I really need to get out of here. When I turn to look at him, he’s leaning against the doorway beside the elevator with one hand on the wall. He really is very, very good-looking. It’s distracting. His burning gray eyes gaze at me.

“Y/N,” he says as a farewell.

“Christian,” I reply. And mercifully, the doors close.

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[ series masterlist ]

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

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[stray-kaz]

Sugar & Spice : a Theodore Laurence x reader FF : one

The door to Jo’s attic room rattled with a quiet but insistent knock just as you were finishing tying the violet ribbon at the end of your plait.

“Are you almost ready, honey? Laurie is waiting to escort you girls to the dance.”

You turned with a swish of lavender skirts to open the door, Marmie waiting on the other side. You smiled at the woman who had taken you in when your father was stolen by war, your mother long gone, struck by illness. She had accepted you as her fifth daughter.

“Yes, Marmie, I am ready. Has Laurie been waiting long?”

The young man in question appeared at the foot of the stairs, his hands clasped behind his back. He arched one dark eyebrow and one corner of his mouth twitched.

“Never too long for you, my love” he said smoothly, and winked.

You rolled your eyes, but felt your face heat in spite of yourself. Marmie touched your hand and leaned forward to murmur into your ear.

“He is a clever, kind boy, and I like him well enough, but he has a mischievous streak a mile wide. Be careful.”

You nodded and squeezed her hand.

“I will be.”

You lifted your skirts an inch off the floor to make your way down the stairs to where Laurie stood at attention. He reached out for you hand, gripping it delicately at the second knuckles, his fingertips brushing your glove. He raised it to his lips and kissed the white fabric. You stuck your tongue out at him, your back to Marmie at the top of the staircase.

“I saw that” Jo announced, eyeing you with a wicked grin. “How unladylike of you, sister.”

You dropped into a mock curtsey.

“You’re one to talk, Josephine” you retorted, grinning at her. “Ready?”

“Never. Come on then.”

Even though Laurie knew it was against propriety, he couldn’t help sliding his hand against the curve of your waist as he moved past to open the door to the carriage, your shoulder brushing his arm. You didn’t dare meet his eye in that instant, his closeness to you sending heat crackling over your arms, bare due to the late summer night air.

He handed you up first, your hand lingering in his for too long, your gaze locked on his. Eyes the colour of a wild sea stared back at you. After what seemed entirely too long and impossibly too short, Jo coughed and broke the spell.

“Help me up, would you, Teddy?”

Laurie nodded quickly and kept her steady as she stepped up into the carriage. He leapt up after them and swung the door closed. Marmie backlit by the blazing golden lights in her home was the last thing he saw before the carriage jolted away down the lane, swaying gently with the horses.

Jo left you alone the minute you arrived, sending you a knowing glance as she wended her path through the densely packed room, no doubt heading for the farthest away quiet room to sequester in until the noise was over.

It was both the best and the worst thing she could have done for you. No other young men came near to offer you a dance, as Theodore Laurence was hovering so near you. His arms were folded across his chest, but his eyes were fixed on the side of your face and you were striving to ignore him, your heart beating in your ears.

At last, you glanced sidelong at him, your mouth skewed into a half scowl.

“You know, Mister Laurence, that you are scaring off any potential suitors from asking for a dance. You are turning me into the worst kind of wallflower: an unwilling one.”

Laurie took a step closer and lowered his head just enough for his mouth to rest right by your ear. He watched as you shivered and your eyes fluttered closed for a split second before widening, dark pupils expanding beyond your control.

“Do you mind, really?” he said softly. “Do you want their attention? Or simply mine? You know that ribbon in your hair is my favourite colour. Hmm?”

You self consciously started to play with the end of your plait, tracing the soft lines of the ribbon with your fingertips. Before you could open your mouth to deny this knowledge, Laurie shook his head.

“You know it, just as I know sunflowers are your favourite. You cannot keep passing us off as just friends, and you know it. We are not just friends, my love.”

He spoke with conviction, but his eyes were still full of uncertainty as he looked at you. You sighed and reached up to touch his hair, your palm skimming the outline of his ear; he pressed into your touch, his eyes warm.

“Laurie...” you said quietly. “I have never felt so much depth of feeling for one person in my life up to now, but...”

You trailed away and he stared down at you, still side on to him, and waited. You didn’t carry on.

“But what?” he prodded, needy and impatient.

You sighed again and shook your head.

“I have nothing” you told him, your own gaze pleading with him to understand you. “I have no money, no property, nothing to my name. It’s all gone.”

Laurie threw his hands up and rolled his eyes to the ceiling, wanting to shake you and kiss you at the same time.

“You know that money is not an issue. You know it does not matter to me that you do not own property. I am yours. With all I have, I am yours.”

You stared up at him, aware that your mouth was slightly open, your mind shocked.

“With all my heart, I am yours” you whispered, barely able to get the shaky words out. “I love you, Theodore Laurence.”

He shook his head at you, coming round to stand right in front of you, forcing you to tip your head back slightly to meet his eyes.

“Call me Laurie” he said, and kissed you.

The music ebbed away, the dancers faded into pastel shadows, and all you knew was the feel of Laurie’s lips on yours and the sudden heat in the room making your head spin. His hands cupped your cheeks, fine, long fingers disappearing into your hair and pulling strands free. Then one hand left your face and meandered down past your shoulders until it reached the violet ribbon. Fingers tugged insistently until it slid loose and he pocketed it, one end poking out slightly from the edge of his trouser pocket.

The room and its dancers slowly came back into focus as Laurie pulled back, his eyes gleaming and a smile unravelling across his face as he looked at you.

“You look beautiful tonight, my love” he told you, biting his lip. “Especially now.”

You didn’t even glance at the room to see if anyone was looking before you yanked him back, an amused chuckle escaping his lips before they were pressed to yours once again.

A/N: Please comment and let me know what you think of this first installment!

#theodore laurie laurence #theodore laurence #theodore laurence x reader #laurie laurence x reader #x female reader #liss writes #fanfic #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet character #little women fanfic

[jupitercomet]

Cachés Dans Les Trous de Ton Divan

summary - Getting married was supposed to be the best day of your life, the day you promised to spend forever with the person you loved. Though you knew very little about love, you’d always been excited for it, playing dress up with your sisters and dreaming of the day you would know love like the back of your hand. Now you were finally getting married and you knew two things for certain: you knew nothing of love and Bradley Bradshaw did not love you.

warnings - arranged marriage au, heavily inspired by Greta Gerwig’s Little Women because that movie has a choke hold on me, angst, gender stereotypes, somewhat toxic family, mentions of Bradley’s parents dying, like one curse word, Bradley’s just straight up mean here, I got overly excited and included dress links but you can picture whatever outfit your heart desires :) 

word count - 3.2k

can you tell I love writing this? anyway here’s part three

je te laisserai des mots masterlist

“I don’t understand,” Rosaline pouted, slumping on the footrest crossly. “Why can’t I go too?”

“Yes, yes,” Charlie hastily agreed, getting up in excitement only for your mother to yank her back down by the hair she was braiding. “Ow!”

Your mother only sniffed. “You’re too young, Rosaline. That’s why.”

“But Charlie doesn’t even want to go.”

Your mother pursed her lips. “Don’t talk back to me, it’s unbecoming. Charlotte is going because that’s what young women do. It will be your turn soon enough, now let me focus on your sister.”

You played with your pearls absentmindedly, keeping quiet as Edith brushed glitter onto your eyelids. You knew better than to interject, especially when your mother used that tone. She’d been especially stressed as of late— you knew why.

The Mitchells were throwing a party to celebrate their nephew’s arrival. Everyone knew the story of Bradley Bradshaw, the boy who lost his father to the war and then his mother to illness a year after, most of the older ladies seemed to brush over that though, far more focused on the fact that he was becoming quite the eligible bachelor. And with no one else to carry the Bradshaw name, they’d stopped being so coy with their motives. You felt sad for him. It must be difficult, trying to mourn when everyone views you as a commodity. 

You wondered if the Mitchells had even had the decency to ask him if he wanted a party upon his arrival. 

“Oh,” Edith clapped her hands in delight. “You look lovely. Father will have to fight the gentlemen off you!” 

You looked at your mother hopefully. She gave you a single nod of approval. 

“Oh, I love you, I love you!” Charlie confessed dramatically, unable to see — and probably actively ignoring — the way your mother was frowning behind her. “My sister is so beautiful, she’ll leave no men for the rest of us.”

You laughed, the rest of your sisters joining you, only stopping when your mother shot you a firm glare.

“You’re beautiful too, Charlotte. Don’t demean yourself.”

“I don’t want to be beautiful,” Charlie wrinkled her nose. “I want to cut off all my hair and wear rags and burlap sacks, and have everyone in the town think I’m a forest hag!”

Rosaline shrieked with laughter. “Charlie the forest hag. The only men that will ever love you will be toads!”

“Don’t make me curse you,” Charlie leapt up from her seat, your mother having given up on her hair, wiggling her fingers teasingly at Rosaline. “I’ll turn you into a toad. I know magic, I’m a witch.”

The two ran around the bedroom, laughter filling the dimly lit space as you watched on with a content smile. You had almost forgotten your mother’s presence before she let out a loud sigh.

“Enough of this, Charlotte,” she held out a pair of gloves. “We’re going to be late.”

The four of you made your way out of the house, Rosaline hot on your heels as the carriage pulled to a stop. Rosaline leaned against the front awning of the house, watching excitedly as you all made your way into the carriage.

“Goodbye, hag!” She shouted, waving madly as you pulled away.

Charlie laughed. Your mother rolled her eyes.

“Goodbye, toad!”

Thick oil paint ran down the textured surface of the canvas. The paint brush wobbled slightly, smudging the phthalo blue on the ends of its bristles. You sighed softly, setting your brush in a small jar of turpentine, swirling it in the oil slowly. Flecks of paint pulled from the brush, now circling around in the liquid, tinting it slightly. 

Another sigh and the brush was pulled from the jar, soggy and dripping with turpentine. You wiped it on your smock. Spots of dampness bloomed like flowers on the thick cloth, but you paid it no mind. Dipping the now dry brush in a dollop of sap green, you looked at your canvas thoughtfully.

Your tongue kissed your teeth in frustration and you took a step back, partly to get a more full view of the piece and partly because you were worried you’d destroy it in a fit of anger. The action only worsened your frustration and you dropped the brush — still slathered in paint — back in the turpentine, taking the canvas off your easel.

“Do tell me you plan on finishing that,” a voice made you startle. You’d think, at some point, people would stop sneaking up on you in the garden. “It’s breathtaking.” 

Settling your heart rate, you turned around, smoothing your hands on your apron. 

Though you’d hardly heard him approach, you recognized the man. Mickey Garcia. A close friend of your husband’s who was over often, always polite and greeting you with a smile. You’d exchanged pleasantries once or twice, but never for very long, and never like this. It was all superficial things, you’d make up some story about your happy marriage and Mickey would pretend to believe your husband was capable of it.

“Oh,” you shifted timidly. “Maybe at some point, but most likely not.”

Mickey nodded, taking a step closer before his eyes flicked to you as if he was asking for permission. You stepped out of the way quickly, allowing him an improved look at the painting. With a nose close enough to touch the piece, he took in the paint splotches with a genuine interest you hadn’t expected from him.

“The technique is exquisite,” he complimented finally, straightening back up to meet your eye. “If that is where your hesitations are coming from.”

You shook your head, taking in the painting again. “No, I think it’s fine in that regard, but… it doesn’t say anything.”

Mickey furrowed his brows. “Pardon?”

“My art,” you elaborated. “It needs to say something— mean something. This,” you gestured to the painting with one hand, “it’s hollow, it doesn’t mean anything. I can’t paint if I have nothing to say.”

Giving the painting another look of his own, Mickey cocked his head thoughtfully. “Why must it say anything? Can it not just be art for the sake of being art?”

You smiled at him sadly. “Not when it’s the only time I get to speak.”

Mickey’s eyes dulled with a melancholy understanding.

“I—” You wrung your hands nervously, feeling the sudden need to explain yourself. “No one expects anything of me. I’ve always been told to be a wife, a mother. But I have these thoughts, these feelings. I just wish I could—” You sucked in a breath. “When I paint, I am an artist, not a woman. I can paint things and people can look at them and say, ‘I understand’ ‘I feel that way too’. For a moment, they can take in my art and I’m allowed to believe that I am more.”

The flowers swayed in the breeze, bluebells and forget-me-nots softly dancing like fairies in some midsummer night’s dream. The sky was beginning to swirl with colors, clouds illuminating in pinks and oranges. The sight felt beautiful, it felt like it meant something.

“So, no, I cannot just make art. Because if its only purpose is to look pretty,” you looked at your painting with muted resentment, taking in every mistake and imperfection. Every time your hand wobbled or colors bled together into a muddy brown. “Then what does that say of me?” 

Mickey pondered your words for a moment— long enough for you to panic at how much you’d unloaded onto a near stranger. You could only imagine what he’d tell Bradley. “Conversing with your wife is so painstakingly terrible, I haven’t the faintest clue how you put up with her.”

“May I take this painting then?” He asked finally. “If I can prove that it has meaning to me?”

The word “shock” could only begin to describe how you were feeling, head nodding of its own accord as you stared at him bewildered. 

“Good,” Mickey smiled, curling his fingers around a dry edge of the canvas. “I will call this masterpiece: The first conversation with a friend.”

“Oh god,” Charlie rolled her eyes. “If Archie looks at us one more time, I’m going to throw a macaroon at him.”

You giggled softly. “Maybe he just wants to dance with you, Charlie.”

“Please,” your sister scoffed and you wiped a macaroon crumb off the corner of her lips. “If he even entertains the idea, I’d smash all his toes as we waltz.”

“I don’t understand why you abhor the idea of falling in love so much,” you spoke softly, eyes gazing over the crowd. Archie had found another young woman to dance with— seemingly too frightened of the daunting challenge that was your older sister. “Do you not wish to have a person that is abundantly yours?”

“No,” Charlie answered honestly. “I don’t. I want to travel the world, see things. I want to go on adventures and wear slacks instead of these ridiculous dresses. I know what marriage is, it’s giving up every last one of your dreams for a man— that’s all it is. And I will not give up my dreams.”

Her words seeped into your skin, clinging to every fiber of your being. Would you give up on your dreams if you had to? All you had ever wanted was to be loved, that was a fairly realistic dream. But you knew — deep down — that, if it was asked of you, you would. You’d give up every last one of your dreams because, unlike Charlie, you didn’t know how to fight for them.

“Okay.”

Your sister turned to you. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeated resolutely. “I will love you and you will love me, and you will not have to compromise your dreams. I’ll make sure of it.”

Charlie grabbed your hand, the orchestra and upper class around you fading into muffled noise. “Yours is the only love that I want anyway.”

You knew it then, in the ballroom of the Mitchells’ estate, that you would do anything for your sister. She was a burning fire, in all the ways you could not be— bold and sure of herself. She could be whatever she wanted: a pirate, an explorer, a forest hag. All you would ever be is a wife. A woman who does what’s asked of her because she doesn’t know how to do anything else.

You remembered the little girl you were in your attic, who read love stories in soft whispers to your little sisters. You remembered your pictures. Your father had brought back a set of colored pencils when he’d had to go to the city for business. They were a small gift, only comprised of rainbow colors, but you’d been enamored instantly.

In the quiet of the attic, wrapped in your white curtain dress, you’d draw pictures of your love on scraps of paper. They weren’t very good— merely crudely drawn stick figures. But they were yours. Your love was tall, always wearing a top hat because you loved to draw them. He played piano because he loved to watch you dance and had big hands because they always had to be occupied with holding yours.

Charlie had peeked over your shoulder once, mouth full of peanuts as she questioned you. “Why are his gloves the size of his head?”

“Because,” you looked at the drawing with a dreamy smile. “If he has small hands, mine will fill them entirely and then he wouldn’t be able to do anything else.”

Charlie wrinkled her nose. “That seems rather impractical.”

You sighed wistfully. “That’s what makes it so romantic.”

You wondered what that little girl would say now, if she could see you standing in the corner of a ballroom making promises to keep your sister’s dreams because you couldn’t help but give up your own. She would probably kick and scream, thrusting pages of stick men in top hats in your face. “You promised!” She’d cry. “You promised, you promised, you promised!”

You sniffed, trying to clear your head. “I should go,” you squeezed your sister’s hand. “Mother will be cross if I don’t try and make use of this dress.”

Charlie grinned. “Step on some toes for me.”

“You promised, you promised, you promised!”

You’d never explored the left wing of the Bradshaw house. It was where Bradley’s study was— where you assumed he was most days. You weren’t sure what was there aside from that. Perhaps another library or a room of expensive paintings. Whatever it was, it was alluring. Pulling you in like a siren’s call. You listened to it, not putting up much resistance as you descended the large hallway that led to the left wing.

You were nervous, you could feel it in your stomach, but you were certain it was an overreaction. Bradley was probably in his study, the door firmly closed. And, even if he wasn’t, it wasn’t as though he would pay you any mind.

Briefly, you wondered if Mickey was with him. The man, you were now excited to call a friend, spoke with you far more frequently. Chatting with you as you painted in the garden or offering you book recommendations from Bradley’s extensive library. You liked him, he made you laugh. He even promised to introduce you to his friend Lady Natasha.

“You’ll love her,” he promised. “She, too, believes in the weight of words.”

The door to Bradley’s study was open, the room empty and the sight made you suck in a breath. Had he gone out? It wasn’t as though he’d have told you if he did. 

Suddenly, the soft notes of piano ivories filled the hall, playing out a familiar melody that had you creeping towards the source of the sound.

“Presenting the Charlie and Rosaline Simpson Traveling Ballet!” Your older sister cried loudly, thrusting her arms out as she took up the makeshift stage in your living room.

You clapped excitedly from your spot on the couch, the fire lapping at your toes as the embers reflected the giddy gleams in your eyes.

“We’ve traveled long and far to be here today,” Charlie continued dramatically. “Across the Appalachian mountains, we nearly succumbed to dehydration in the Sahara. In fact—”

“Oh, get on with it already!” Rosaline groaned from behind the wall. “I want to dance.”

Charlie grinned, turning to the boy sitting at your piano. “Mr. Bradshaw?”

“Yes, Miss Simpson?” Bradley teased. 

“The toad is getting antsy,” Rosaline let out a squawk of protest. “And I do believe we promised this fine young lady a show.”

“Yes, I do believe we did,” he winked. “I hope it is to your liking, Lady Simpson.”

And then his fingers moving on the ivories, dancing just as much in their own right as your sisters were. And you were trying to hold back your girlish giggles because no one had ever called you a lady before, or winked at you, or hoped they pleased you.

In all of your sister’s wild theatrics, you’d only ever remained yourself. Rosaline got to dance in her traveling ballet. Edith got to recite lines as a fairy in her plays. Even Margo got to go on Charlie’s adventures before she got married. And that wasn’t to say Charlie never included you in her stories, of course she did, but you were never a ballerina or a fairy, you were simply you.

But Bradley didn’t see you that way, no, he called you “Lady Simpson” like you were a rich countess he must impress if he ever wanted to play piano on a big stage to a full audience. Maybe you owned your own theater and he and your sisters had to prove themselves worthy of your financial backing. And as you sat on your sofa, nothing more than an audience, Bradley re immersed you in the magic of it all. With just two words.

“Lady Simpson.”

You watched him, the small smile on his face as his eyes locked on Charlie’s twirling form. Had he always been that beautiful? Had he always looked so painstakingly soft? When he played music for your sister, simply to watch her dance, had he always looked so intricately breathtaking? So constant in his love and devotion?

He played piano and your sisters danced and, in that moment, you felt as though you might cry. Because he was art, you looked at him and he meant something. He was cross hatching, shading, and texture, all the things you could fill your sketchbook with. Pages upon pages of Bradley Bradshaw.

“You’re not watching me!” Rosaline’s indignant whine pulled you away from the boy at your piano.

“Sorry,” you felt your cheeks heat, trying to avoid the pair of confused, brown eyes that had suddenly landed on you.

Your steps led you to an open room, practically empty aside from a piano a little ways right from the door’s opening. Bradley was sat at it, shaky fingers methodically pressing down on the ivory keys. The melody was slower than the last time you’d heard him play it, his eyes focused solely on his fingers as if each movement required the utmost concentration. His fingers no longer danced on the keys like they used to, but you didn’t feel any differently to how you’d felt the first time you’d heard him play.

He seemed human now. Struggling and overcoming.

His finger slipped suddenly onto a wrong key, a sour note filling the air of the room. The music ceased immediately.

Bradley squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit.”

Closing the lid of the piano, he rested his elbows on it, holding his head in his hands. Your brows furrowed and you almost took a step forward to comfort him, but froze, suddenly thinking better of it. He wouldn’t want you here. No, it’d be best to leave, allow him his space. He’d made it clear that’s what he wanted from you anyway.

You turned to go, the rustling of your skirts louder than intended. Bradley’s eyes shot open and he sprung from the piano suddenly.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was just—” You fumbled through your words, eyes panicked. “I just thought—”

Bradley took a step towards you coldly. “What makes you think you have any right to be in here?”

“I’m sorry—” You took a step back.

“How much did you see?”

“I—” Your breath was quickening. “What?”

He was yelling now. “How much did you see?!”

“I— I don’t know!” You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. “I just heard your playing and—”

“Damn it!” His fist hit against the wall and you flinched. “This is my house, lest you forget. It’s bad enough you have to stay here, must you invade my privacy as well? A lady is supposed to make her presence known anyway, Charlie would have never—”

Charlotte Simpson was everything you weren’t, loud, confident, loved. She was unapologetic by nature, unable to understand the frivolousness of high society. She did things because she wanted to, living her life like she was dancing to a piano.

And you lived yours like you were sitting in the audience watching her. Charlie Simpson was the woman Bradley fell in love with. Charlie Simpson, with her impulsiveness, hotheadedness, and imagination. Charlie Simpson, who never backed down from a challenge. And so maybe Charlie would have never, but you weren’t Charlie.

“I’m sorry.”

You took off down the hall.

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#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw au #rooster imagine #rooster imagines #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #rooster angst #rooster au #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #je te laisserai des mots #buggy's got a pen

[theysaidhush]

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Chapter 1: Animal Farm

Pairing: Stray Kids x 9th member!OFC

Warnings:

I'll say this only once, this is the only warning you'll get. Future chapters will contain lot of smut (eventually) angst and fluff. Heavy topics will be discussed (idol life y'know) but I don't wanna spoil it. This story isn't for sensitive person? I don't know how to put it. Just don't read if you think you'll feel uncomfortable!

This is a x OC but will be tagged as a x Reader. I find it difficult to write properly about a character while worrying about making it inclusive and fitting my story. I don't really care about her name or physical apparence though so if you have any suggestion I'm up for it.

No pressure chill under the trees. Updates will not be regular as this story is solely for my entertainment and whenever I feel like writing it. Means that I'll keep on posting even if I don't have any feedbacks but also means that chapter lengths will vary to very short to more words. You can have many chapters the same day, depends on my life, but I don't really like short chapter so ill do my best.

"I am not being a pain in the ass."

"Yes you are."

"You kinda are."

Minho sent a chilling glance to the boy who was curled up next to him on the living room's couch. It was enough for Jisung to shudder. But the topic was serious, he wasn't about to change his opinion just because his hyung was giving him that look.

"No seriously, you really are."

"Okay."

Minho smiled and kept on doing what he was doing on his phone, ignoring everyone's stare - Jisung's stare particularly. The younger boy was looking intently at him, he was waiting for something, something he was sure his hyung would do. And he did. Like three minutes after. He blew through his nose, still looking at his screen.

"Ah! I knew it!"

"I really don't understand what's the problem. Has she done anything to upset you? We can talk it out like adults."

The couple on the couch looked up from each other and Minho stared at Chan intently yet silently. The leader couldn't really tell what was on the dancer's mind, and it was upsetting him to no extent. Any other day he would have brushed it off as Minho being Minho. The latter was a great friend, he almost considered him his brother, despite not knowing on the tip of his fingers the boy's small quirks and habits. It was a Jisung thing. But now, more than never, he wished he could know him a bit more, he wished for the other boy to let him in.

"I don't want to talk it out with you."

"Minho..."

Jisung's hush whispers was not a warning, yet, it felt like one. He was not scolding his Hyung, he was just trying to appease the tension. Chan's face was contorted in what people would consider anger, but Jisung knew better. He was frustrated.

"This is about the whole group, not just me. I didn’t come to you as a friend, Minho, I'm here as a leader."

And it might have not been the right thing to say. Because Minho frowned, and retreated into silence.

"What a mess." was Jisung's thoughts, his eyes drifting toward his leader’s, whose head was turned toward a silhouette standing in the hallway.

"No. You can't do this to us."

"You don't have a choice."

"We do! It's my group, our group, we've worked so hard to reach our goals and create the music that will fit us!"

Chan did not know what was more upsetting at the moment; the fact that he was having this conversation while he was sleep deprived - he would blame himself for that latter, saying that it was the reason he couldn't plead their case better - or the fact that he was even having this conversation.

"They've let you do your things, you know that Chan."

"No, they gave up on us, so we had to fight our way to the top! That's what happened."

The word 'top' was a far too big word for Chan, but one he had to use nonetheless to prove his case. They were enough. They were just fine.

"They..." his manager sighed and pinched his nose. The situation was getting out of hands and even he could not do a thing about it. But at the the end of the day, his job was on the line, and he had a family to feed. "They threatened to disband the group if you don't agree to the term."

"Just fine by then! We'll go elsewhere and keep on doing music together."

"You don't understand Chan, think it through! This is not a GOT7 type of situation, they'll take Stray Kids' name, your music, your brand and all that you've accomplished by yourself, and if you do try to prosecute them you'll lose. I've read the contracts, everyone's contract. You can't refuse."

"I can't - " Chan laughed and sat on his chair, running his hands on his face. "This is disgusting and despicable."

"I know, Chan, I'm sorry."

"They just want to make publicity, it'll bury us."

"I know..."

It was a one in a life time opportunity, the young woman really and truly understood that. She was considered too old to even sit in that room, she was told countless times. Yet, it did not change the fact that she was sitting in that room. The room where all important decisions were made.

She felt uncomfortable, growing uneasy, fighting the urge to scratch her skin off - one bad old habit. Her choices, her decisions; all of those were flashing in her mind like a broken tape, image and pictures of the times she spent practicing to be here - not that much, if you ask her.

Those people stare - those important people's stare was making her fidget in her sit, avoid eye contact. Were they testing her? Waiting for a particular reaction, the one which could get her out of here in a matter of seconds? The room was feeling too warm, she will sweat buckets if she doesn't go out. Right now.

"There you go. Miss?"

They did not even knew her name. It was a bit disappointing, but then again, she was just another someone wandering between those halls, wasn't she?

"Athéna."

"A- Axina..?"

"More like, Ah-thé-nah." she corrected their pronunciation with a soft voice, continuing, "You can google it."

But their glare was enough for her to shut her mouth and look at the ceiling. It was a fool idea to correct them, they were older, knew much more things than her. It was a little unnerving, this whole elder situation was a lot to get accustomed to in South Korea.

"Axina. Have you read the terms and condition of the contract?"

"I have."

"Any reclamation?"

She wanted to laugh at their face, but she couldn't. She did not had it in her to do that. So she nodded, pretending to be genuinely interested by their answer, even if she quite knew what they would say.

"Regarding the whole part of you managing my...image. I'd like to know if it concerns my hair too?"

"Yes, obviously. And your weight too."

Freezing cold in her bones. Was it because the window was opened? Or was it their stares? It was chilling nonetheless. It was sending her back into a period of her life where she had looked at her reflection days and nights to get a glimpse of her ribs and be satisfied with the view.

"Oh."

"You'll have to work on your Korean too, your pronunciation isn't that good."

"What are you?" another one asked, shifting through the page of the contract she had signed.

What she was. Not who. Not her nationality. But what.

"I'm French, mister."

"Great, it'll help with publicity oversea. Are you fluent in English?"

Why was she having this discussion with them?Wasn't she supposed to talk to the manager and the team helping Stray Kids? Why was she sitting in front of JYP's shareholder.

"I'm almost fluent. I've learned while traveling."

"What a shame. If she was prettier we could have scored partnerships with French luxury brands such as Dior or Channel."

"She'll be perfect for the role that will be given to her."

"I guess so."

"We're done with you."

Was it an animal farm? She never felt that disturbed by a conversation in her whole life. She shuddered, getting up from her sit as she grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt to pull on the lose strands. She couldn't help herself but rock back and forth on her feet - another bad habit of her that some even called weird.

"And stop doing that it's weird."

Chapter 2

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #poly!stray kids #stray kids angst #swan dive and she met the stars #idk how to tag this

[dracowars]

Hi!! Can i request a Draco Malfoy x Reader, where the reader notices Draco starting to act suspicious. And being his girlfriend, he'd normally tell her anything and everything. But he'd been hiding something. So she confronts him. And after much much prodding from her, he finally spills his secret and shows her the dark mark on his arm. And he gets nervous and she tells him that she'd get it to if it meant that he'd be completely himself again. (I've just really been wanting a evil, villainous couple.)

forever, you and me | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,1k

summary: where draco reveals the dark mark to y/n

a/n: i loved writing this, i hope you enjoy reading <3 reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated!

warnings: angst, cursing, a bit toxic

universe: harry potter

“I can’t help you if you don’t finally tell me what’s going on, Draco!”, you raise your voice unintentionally, but somehow intentional because otherwise the message does not seem to get through to him at all. It has been like this for weeks, he keeps acting weird, not like himself as if he had been replaced by an empty, emotionless shell, and every time you bring this up, he brushes you off like it is nothing. Not only are you incredibly frustrated at this point, but you are also angry. You know that something is bothering him so much that he does not even dare to talk to you about it, although you used to tell each other everything.

In the meantime, it worries you so much that you feel physically and mentally ill. You haven’t closed your eyes at night ever since you woke up one night, after sneaking into Draco’s room, and he disappeared in the middle of the night, gone somewhere only he knows. The next morning, he did not even think to apologize to you when you saw him in the Great Hall. That was the first time you really realized that something was terribly wrong.

It hurts that he does not confide in you, but it pains you even more that he is suffering, and you can’t help him because he just won’t let you near him anymore. You can say whatever you want, you can do whatever you want, but he ignores you like you do not even exist, like you are not the one person who could potentially help him. You would do anything for him, and you thought he knew that. Which does not seem to be the case, which is why you are not sorry for the cruel words you are now spitting at him.

“So you’re back to playing the arrogant asshole everyone thinks you are, hm?”, you provoke him furiously, not allowing him to treat you like this anymore. “If that’s the case, then I don’t want to be with you anymore either, Draco. I can’t keep running after you only for you to push me away over and over again!”

“You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Y/N. Just stay out of it”, Draco replies, visibly annoyed by your words. What you do not know, however, is that your words hit him hard and for a few seconds he actually forgets how to breathe as his heart contracts painfully. He can’t help himself, he does not know what to do either.

“I would fucking do anything for you, Draco, ANYTHING! What does it take to get that into the thick skull of yours?!”, you practically yell at him now, reproachfully pressing your index finger against his chest with every word. The way he pulls away from you, the way he takes so many steps back until his back is against the wall of his room like he is trying to escape from you, breaks your heart. But since it was broken before anyway, you do not feel the pain at that moment.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”, you command and look at him intently, but his eyes remain fixed on the ground. He lets you yell at him as much as you want, but he still won’t tell you anything.

“Leave me alone”, Draco murmurs so softly you can barely hear it. When he turns to escape the room, you grab his arm and stop him from leaving. As soon as you touch him, however, he flinches, almost in pain, and yanks his arm away from you with so much force that the momentum causes you to take a step towards him.

It is in that moment when you see Draco’s tear-filled eyes that you know no one will leave this room without unraveling this secret that has been destroying the both of you for so long.

“Draco, babe. Please tell me what’s wrong”, you ask him again, this time very calmly and so carefully that you even startle yourself at how quickly your mood can change. “I only want to help you. It’s me, Y/N. You remember? Forever, we said.”

Draco, who is holding the arm you just touched protectively against his chest, is now looking directly at you, and for a brief moment you think you see the darkness within his eyes being pushed aside by light. You would do anything in your power to take all the pain and suffering away from him, transferring all of it to yourself so he does not have to endure it any longer.

“You wouldn’t be able to look at me anymore”, Draco murmurs sadly, cupping his wrist in his hand like he is in excruciating pain.

“What nonsense are you talking about? You know I will always be by your side”, you softly whisper and take another step towards his trembling figure. “No matter what it is, I will stay with you. I promise. I love you, Draco, and I can’t handle this uncertainty any longer.”

Nervously, his eyes meet yours, alternating between them as he fiddles with the hem of his white shirt, buttoning and unbuttoning the sleeve. You take this as a sign that you are allowed to come closer, which you do. Tenderly putting your hand on his shoulder, you look at his hands.

“Show me.”

You could not have guessed that Draco looks away at your words as he rolls up the sleeve of his shirt and reveals his skin to you, as if he were infinitely ashamed of what he is now showing you. What he is revealing to you here and now makes you stagger briefly, but the fear that is clearly visible in his face causes you to control your emotions. He needs you. So much like he never did before.

Not knowing what to say, how best to convince him that you will stay by his side even though this horrible tattoo adorns his forearm, you express what comes to your mind first.

“If it means that you will be your true self again, then I want to be a part of it, too.”

The shock, but also the slight relief that breaks across Draco’s features, immediately tells you what you have to do from now on. You can also see him struggling with himself, however, for not wanting to pull you into this mess, but your decision was made the moment he revealed the truth. That is why, when he wants to say something, you softly put your finger on his lips to silence him. Looking deep into his beautiful eyes, you can almost hear his heartbeat as loud as yours, not able to suppress a tiny smile.

“Forever, as I promised.”

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy os #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one fic #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy ff #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy one shots #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x female reader #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco imagines #draco os #draco one shot #draco one shots #draco fic #draco ff #draco fanfic #draco fanfiction #hp imagine #harry potter one shot #harry potter fanfiction #hp one shot

[squirmhoney]

I Remember Part IV

A/N: it’s finally hear. This part is much softer but next week I make it will be darker again. Warnings: incest. Begging. Dub con and non con (slightly). Fingering. hand job. Oral (f receiving). Smut. P in v. Angst. 18+ Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader (cousin) Word count: 5.7k

Italics = past

Master List 

Four days, that’s how long it had been since you had stepped out of your room. You had lied to your family saying you were awfully sick and shouldn't be around anyone. When anyone knocked on your room, you'd hide in your bathroom, locking the door so they couldn't get in. Your excuse would be that you didn't want them to get sick, that it was better for you to keep your distance.

Truth was that you feared it would be Aegon. You didn't know what you were scared for; the way Aegon may act if he found you or the way you may cave instantly if you saw him.

Eventually, your mother realised what was happening. After seeing Aegon hopelessly mope around the house all day, even at times pacing behind your door as if debating whether to go in, and even withdrawing from the rest of the family. She knew that something had happened.

Laena snuck into your room early that morning, brushing your hair behind your ear until you woke up. You shifted around groaning slightly when you woke up, feeling a deep ache in your gut. Either from the hunger after not being able to eat properly for the past few days or the sadness that crept into your chest every time you thought of Aegon.

“Mum,” you said, fluttering your eyes open to look up at her. “I’m ill you shouldn’t be in here.”

“I don’t care,” Laena told you, cupping your face with her hand. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m just sick, I’ll get better,” you were quick to say, sitting up in your bed.

“It’s not that and you know it.” Laena was stern, face dropping as she stared at you. “You’re hiding in your room, retracting away from everyone. Me, your dad, your sisters, even Aegon.”

Your turned to look away, eyes glassing over as you felt a horrible shiver down your spine. You bit down at your nails, not knowing what to say.

“Has something happened between you and Aegon?” Laena asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Have you had an argument or something?” Her hand rubbed your shoulder gently.

“It’s nothing,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“Talk to me please,” Laena pleaded, voice laced with concern. “Don’t shut me out.”

It was hard for you to talk to your mother. You were the person people came to, you were the comforter. It was one of the main reasons you and Aegon had been so close growing up. You were his constant comforter, anytime his mother or father berated him, you were there with open arms and loving words to remind him he was worthy.

Your heart clenched as you were reminded of him, a tear sliding down your face. You quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand, sniffing to hold in the tears.

“I don’t want a repeat of last year.” Laena slid a stray hair behind your ear. “Last year was so scary for me. You completely withdrew from me and your dad. You returned home without telling anyone. I was so scared and I was so worried that-” Laena cut herself off as her voice cracked. “And you still won’t tell me why you ran off like that.”

“I’m sorry,” you stuttered, unable to cover up your sobs as you started to cry.

“Don’t apologise,” Laena told you. “Just speak to me or if not me someone else. Your dad or even Aegon. You know when you got here and you started spending time together like you always did. I was relieved. You know no one can make you smile as much as he does, I’ve always been jealous of the smiles that he gets out from you.”

“We argued okay but I don’t want to talk about it,” you stated.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, he’s been sulking around like some lost puppy without you,” Laena chuckled, smiling slightly. “Like he used to do when you guys were kids. If he said something horrible to you and you’d ignore him until he profusely apologised and you’d make up.”

“He is?” Your lips twitched up into a smile at the thought.

Laena nodded, humming in response. “He’s been hovering around your bedroom door, looking like he’s about to knock but he never does.” Her hands took yours as she held them, her thumb rubbing on the back your hand. “You know whenever you two are upset with each other, it takes it’s toll on both of you. Even when you were younger, you hated staying mad at him for too long. It’s why you forgave him so easily.”

She was right, you knew that. You had never felt that way about anyone and you never think you would find that with anyone else.

“He deserves it this time,” you told her, rubbing your tear stained face.

“I’m sure he does,” she agreed. “But it is worth the sadness that it’s causing you.”

_

You hated how right your mother was, this whole thing was making you feel dreadful. All you could think of was Aegon. His violet eyes haunting your very soul, the image of his pretty face being the only thing you could see as you closed your eyes.

The meadow had become yours and Aegon's safe haven, every time you wanted to escape your pestering family you'd go there. It was beautiful in the daytime, empty and peaceful. The sun lit up the field of flowers, the colours of blue and red all blurring into one.

However, at night was the really beautiful part, especially when the sky was clear enough to see every single star. The pale moonlight hit the car, lighting up Aegon's face perfectly as he grinned at you. The moon reflected off of his violet eyes, making them glisten as you stared into them. He looked ethereal, you were completely enraptured with him in that moment.

Then he kissed you and you had to remind yourself how to breathe once he pulled away. The feeling of his soft lips lingered on yours, making you lean in to kiss him again. Gods, he was a great kisser. His tongue slipping into your mouth as he grabbed your neck, deepening the kiss further.

Aegon made you feel like you were on pure ecstasy when you were around him. The way his hands gripped onto your thighs, yanking you onto his lap.

"Aegon," you giggled, adjusting yourself to feel more comfortable.

"What?" He laughed, hands sliding up and down your side.

You were putty in his hands as he rubbed your thigh, hand sliding up underneath your skirt, only stopping when he reached your clothed cunt. His hands peeled your legs open, allowing him better access to you.

His eyes scanned your face, watching how your lip parted slightly as his hand stroked over the material of your thongs. The slightest touch from him, making you absolutely feral as you caved.

"Gods please don't tease me," you pleaded, not enjoying his incredibly slow pace.

"But that's the best part," Aegon admitted, grinning at you with that boyish smirk.

Your shifted, moving to sit next to him, your legs still hovering over his. He frowned at this, trying to get closer to you, until he realised the placement of your hand. You squeezed him through his trousers, feeling how hard he already was.

"Don't tease me," he said, shaking his head.

"But that's the best part," you mocked him, fingers undoing the zip of his trousers.

He helped you, lifting his hips up to pull his trousers down, his boxers still covering him. Your hand sliding underneath his boxers as he rutted his upwards into your hand helping you find his cock. You palmed him slowly, liking the way he panted as you had him under your thumb.

Aegon didn't like you having the upper hand so he moved his hand, finally sliding into your pants. His fingers slid against your slit, gathering your wetness as he made his way up to your clit. When he started to rub, you couldn't help the moans that escaped your lips.

You were both becoming desperate for each other, slowly touching each other as if you were trying to saviour the moment but really you were just trying to make the other one break. It was always you that cracked first, especially under his touch, because if there was one thing Aegon enjoyed most in the world, it was to see you a begging mess underneath him.

“Aegon,” you pleaded, grinding down on his hand as hard as you could. Your head rested against his, pressing your body up to his as you hoped to convince him.

“Y/N,” he moaned, pressing his soft lips against yours.

Both of you quickened your pace, your hand now working in long strokes up and down his cock while he rubbed you faster. Moans filled the car walls as you felt yourself getting closer, feeling like you could cum just by looking at the way Aegon’s face contoured with pleasure as looked at you.

“Fuck,” you mewled into his mouth, mouth opening as you felt yourself so close to the edge. Your hips practically rutted into his hand, whimpering his name as you felt yourself overcoming with pleasure. Your hand no longer stroking him as you became only aware of your own bliss.

"Aegon," you cried out, eyes peeling open as you were ripped away from that intense sensation.

You gasped, hand clamping around your mouth as you shot up in your bed. Your eyes darted round the room, only seeing the darkness that engulfed the bedroom. Glad for how it inviting it was for you to slip back into the sheets, easily ignoring the wetness that filled your shorts or the slight tingling feeling you felt between your legs.

For a second you thought about it, just putting your hand between your legs, pressing your fingers into your clit. You could pretend it was him, no one need know as you closed your eyes and whispered his name. But you knew it wouldn't feel the same, it never could.

_

"Why do you take so long?" Baela groaned, watching as you made your way out of the front door. Her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at you. "The others have already started making their way over."

You passed your bags over to Daemon who was filling up the boot, shaking your head as you swung you arm around her. "Wasn't it you that practically begged me to spend time with you at the start of the holiday," you reminded her, pulling her in. "We will only be a few minutes behind. We have the whole weekend ahead of us."

Daemon was grinning at the both of you, watching your lovely sisterly affection as you pushed her into the car. He walked over to the car door where you were piling in, standing over you.

"Ground rules," Daemon said, pointing at your two little sisters. "Y/N is in charge as the oldest you must listen to her. Don't run off or leave her-"

"Can we go now?" Rhaena chimed in, cutting off your dads droning on.

"Okay, okay." Daemon put his hands up in surrender then came over to you, a half-hearted smile on his lips. "If you need me, for anything. Anything at all. Call me?"

"Of course," you told him, nodding as you smiled back at him.

"Love you guys," he shouted, stepping away from the car as he waved you all off. "Have fun."

Your mother sat in the passenger seat, your aunt Rhaneyera in the drivers seat and both Jace and Luke in the back of the car. Your siblings and cousin already filling the car with the noise of their chatter and laughter as the car made its way to the cottage.

The car journey felt long as your stomach filled with nerves for the weekend, feeling like you were back to your first day of the holiday. Luckily no one questioned about your sickness, probably your parents making sure that no one was allowed to bring it up.

You were happy to finally be there, saying your goodbyes to your aunt and mother. You made sure to reassure them, saying how this weekend would be a breeze. The only thing that truly concerned you was the image of the sulking boy that lingered in the back of your head.

When you stepped in, you weren't surprised to see bags dropped to the ground as the others already poured into the cottage exploring. You walked around, making your way into living room to where everyone was.

Your eyes couldn't focus on them as you noticed Aegon, storming out of the kitchen with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He stopped when he noticed you, eyes wide, lips slightly parted as he just stared. Within that moment, no one else was in the room, the pair of you paralysed to your core unable to look at anyone else.

"Y/N," Baela called, snapping you out of your trance.

Aegon stormed past you as you walked over to your sister, a door slamming in the distance once you stopped by her.

Baela looked at you, a deep frown covering her face as if she was contemplating what she was about to say. "Don't do it."

You rolled your eyes at her, stepping into the kitchen as you went onto a search in the cabinets. Then your eyes laid upon it, the sleek black wine fridge in the corner. You typed in the code, it opening up for you as you pulled a bottle of white.

"Y/N," Baela snapped, stomping in behind you. You ignored her as you pulled out 2 wine glasses from the cabinet, sliding past her to make your way out of the room. "Don't."

"I love you but this is really none of your business," you told her, turning on your heel to give her a pointed look. "I'm going to go now. If you need me you message or call me. I'll order food for everyone later, have a drink or two lighten up." You made your way through the living room, hoping she'd stop following you. "But whatever you do, do not barge into my room."

Baela nodded, watching you as you picked up your bags.

You sighed once you reached the master bedroom door, trying to pull the handle but only finding it locked. You knocked, having to practically slam against the door until you heard shuffling and a loud groan from the other side.

Aegon yanked the door open, whiskey bottle still in hand and lips parted ready to shout. Then he noticed you standing there, pushing him to the side to make your way in. You dropped your stuff on the side of the room, placing the bottle and glasses down as well.

"You do not need that," you told him, yanking the whiskey bottle from his hand. It was already open, the smell of it lingering from his breath as he reached to take it back. "Don't be stupid, you do not need it."

You walked to the en-suite, opening the bottle as you poured out its contents in the sink.

Aegon didn't protest, instead he just watched wide eye, slightly defeated as if you were taking away his most precious belonging.

"You can have a glass of wine and you can take it steady," you said, pointing to where you had placed the bottle and glasses.

He snatched the bottle off the side, opening it to chug some of it down. Of course he was acting like a bratty child, trying to drown his sorrows by ignoring you.

"You could at least pour me a glass," you sighed, unpacking things from your bag to find something more comfy to change into.

"What are you doing?" Aegon asked, sitting back on the bed.

"Changing," you replied.

"No I mean what are you doing here? Coming into my room- you know what I mean." He seemed frustrated, voice growing louder as he spoke.

"There's only a few rooms here. So if the others are sharing and some are sleeping on the couch, I'll just share this room with you." Both of you knew you were lying but who really cared in the moment, you were together weren't you. "Anyway they're all doing their thing, I just want to relax and watch a movie or something."

Aegon couldn't help but stare at you as you peeled the clothes off your body, fist clenching when you stepped out of your shorts. Your bare ass still showing the faint brown bruises that he had marked you with, making him slip into his self loathing a little bit more.

When you were changed, you walked back to the bed, grabbing a few of the pillows as you placed them like a wall between you and Aegon. You sat on the other side of the bed, using the remote to turn the TV on, putting a movie on as you felt Aegon's eyes piercing into you from the side.

"I'm sorry."

You twisted your head round to look at him, seeing that broken boy staring back at you. His lips quivering as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He looked exhausted, the hollow darkness surrounding his eyes and his sunken expression indicating lack of sleep that you hoped was due to not having your presence.

You wanted him to suffer like you had, you wanted him to be unbearable pain. It was only fair, you thought but why when he looked at you like that, did you feel yourself crumbling inside ready to cave into him.

"I fucked up," he pleaded, a tear falling down his face. He opened his mouth, struggling to figure out what to say as the words stammered out of his mouth. "I just want to make it up to you and-"

"You know that night I came in and-" your voice cracked as you felt a sob lodged in your throat "-I just wanted to see you."

His hand reached out for you and you slapped it away, glaring at him.

"You say you love me," you sobbed, hands reaching to cover your face. "But you do the meanest things to me."

He pulled you in, arms wrapping around you not moving even when you punched at his chest. It took a moment for you to relax, finally sobbing into his chest as he comforted you.

"I love you so much," Aegon confessed, hand sliding against your back.

"Please stop saying that," you told him, pushing away at his chest as he begun to release you. You parted slightly, his arms still around the sides of your body and your faces only a mere few inches apart. "You don't love me."

"I've always loved you, Y/N." Aegon's lips trembled, tears slowly sliding down his face as he looked at you with deep pain. "It never started at a certain point, it was just always there. From the very moment you defended me against my dad when I was ten. Taking the blame for throwing his phone in the pool when you knew I had done it in a fit of rage. How you constantly every time without a fail would try and defend me when I got in trouble even when it didn't work."

You peered down, nibbling on your lip as you thought back to such memories. How even when you tried to take the blame, you'd both end up in trouble. Your parents telling you it wasn't okay to lie.

“Or the time my mother slapped me around the face in the kitchen. You came to my room and reassured me that what she said was not true, that someone would love me. That I was worth something. That-” his voice was shaky making it hard for him to speak “-that you loved me. From even before then I wanted you to love me but after that I realised all I needed in life was your love.”

Aegon cupped your cheeks with his hands, holding you there so you had to look up at him. "I thought it was evident in the way I'd follow you around aimlessly like some love sick puppy. When I do something to make you mad, you'd ignore me for hours until I was on my knees begging for you to forgive me." His fingers wiped away your tears as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I've always loved you and I'm here begging for your forgiveness again, something I truly don't deserve. If you want, I'll get on my knees and beg for it because of how I feel about you. I’ll do anything you want me to.”

"You are right, you don't deserve my forgiveness," you admitted, hands reaching up to rest on his chest. You paused for what felt like the longest second, taking the sight of the beautiful broken boy in, knowing that a few words could crush him. "But my mother is also right. Every time I try and stay upset with you it always takes it toll on me. I hate being without you, it's why I forgave you so easily growing up."

Aegon relaxed finally, letting out a deep sigh as his eyes fluttered shut.

"I'm tired," you whispered, leaning into him. "I'm so tired, Aegon."

"Of course, my love," he said, pulling you into him as you laid yourself on your chest.

You both fell asleep like that, his hand tickling your back and your head resting against his shoulder. Both of you finally finding some sort of peace between you.

_

When you woke, it was in Aegon's arms, your lips fighting a smile as you noticed him already awake. His fingers still running down your back as he flicked through his phone. You lifted yourself up, giving him a peck and catching him off guard completely.

"What time is it?" You asked, noticing how the curtains were drawn and the lamp was the only thing to light up the room.

"It's about 8 o'clock," he replied.

"Oh I need to order food for the others." You rushed to find your phone, looking around the room.

"It's fine. I've already done it." Aegon grabbed your arm, yanking you back towards him. "And I got us some food as well."

"You did?" You straddled his lap, hands falling to his chest as you got comfortable. Eyebrows raised at him as you smirked.

"I don't think Baela likes me very much," Aegon said, hands sliding up your sides. "I think she hates me... actually."

"Oh yeah," you chuckled, imagining how that interaction went. His hands slid under the clothing of your t-shirt, fingers tracing the soft skin of your stomach as he made his way further up. You shivered in delight at the feeling, noticing his hungry eyes staring at your chest. "Let's not talk about my sister right now."

"What do you want to talk about?" Aegon asked, hands finally cupping your breasts as he sat up further. His lips found your neck, licking and sucking a line up your throat.

You rocked your hips back and forth, sighing contently at the feeling. "How about how you still need to make it up to me?"

"What do you have in mind?" He gazed up at you, a wide grin as he waited for your response. He wanted so badly to hear those dirty words fall from your lips.

"I want you to eat me out."

That's all Aegon needed, flipping you both over to lay you back down on the bed. He hovered over you, stripping you of your t-shirt. The way he stared at you had you on edge, nerves swimming in your stomach as you could see his violet eyes dilate at the sight of you.

"Aegon kiss me," you whispered, hoping that with his lips on yours you'd be able to calm yourself.

He hovered over you, pressing his lips onto yours gently. You grabbed the back of his neck, deepening the kiss further. Hovering over you, Aegon rubbed his cock between your legs, making you wrap your legs instinctively around him.

Aegon broke the kiss, hovering his lips over yours. "Needy for me, are you?"

"Yes," You whimpered, reaching up to his lips again only for him to lean away.

He tutted, sitting up so he could kneel between your legs. He grabbed your ankles, pushing them down against your thighs, your knees reaching your rib cage. "I'd like to play with this position later." His erection grinded into you, making you leak at the sensation.

Finally he leaned down, wrapping your legs around his shoulders. His fingers slowly trailed over the material of your thong, your hips arching to increase the friction.

"Please, Aegon," You pleaded, feeling desperate for him now.

He pressed soft kiss to the material of your thongs, loving the way you mewled and bucked your hips up to him. Sticking his wide tongue out as he placed a long stripe against your clothed cunt. Your fingers weaved into his locks, massaging the back of his head as you tried to pull him closer. He was enjoying teasing you over your underwear, having you writhe under him.

"Aegon, please, I beg of you. Stop teasing me."

With his finger, Aegon slipped into your thong, pulling the material down. Your heart raced at the single touch, staring blissfully at him as he pulled the material around your knees. His lips reaching closer to and closer to your core until you could finally fell his breath against your folds.

"You have such a pretty cunt," Aegon admired before finally diving in.

You moaned loudly as Aegon's tongue started to explore your cunt, sucking and licking between the folds. Of course, he wanted to saviour this moment, your cunt was the sweetest thing he ever tasted, his favourite meal.

When his tongue started to lap at your clit, going between flicks and circling it, you couldn't help yourself as your hips arched up to grind against his face. His hands held you down, keeping you firmly in place as he pressed his face deeper into you.

Aegon knew your body better than yourself, knowing each move to make, each part to touch, that had you a crumbling mess as you were now.

"Gods, Aegon." You gazed down at him, eyes glassed over, feeling blissful.

One of his hands moved, sliding across your thigh as his hands grazed the skin. A sinful shiver ran down your spine, not able to stop the sounds that rolled off your tongue. His fingers sliding into your entrance suddenly, bringing you closer to the edge, a tension constricting in your stomach.

"Aegon," you cried, pulling his gaze towards you. The way he grinned between your thighs, eyes holding your own, made you feel like you could cum in seconds. "I'm so close."

He quickened his pace, sending your body into a wave of pleasure. Your thighs clenched around his face, your cunt pulsating around his fingers uncontrollably. You gripped the sheets around you, his name being the only thing that escaped your lips as you moaned for him. He didn't move when you were finished, still lapping at the juices as you grounded yourself.

"Aegon, it's too much." You squirmed at how sensitive you were.

He released you, unwrapping your legs from his shoulders to hover over you. You stopped him, placing your foot on his chest as you shook your head at him breathless.

"I'm not done with punishing you," you told him, biting on your bottom lip as you thought for a second. "You want to show me how sorry you are, cousin?"

He was glaring down at you, chest tightening as he couldn't stop thinking about fucking you. But with your angelic voice, he was smitten ready to do anything you said. "Yes."

"I want you to fuck my thighs," You said bashfully, giggling at the thought.

"Really?" He asked, raising his brows.

"Really."

Aegon rolled his eyes, climbing off the bed. For a second you thought he might be annoyed at you but then his hands grabbed your legs, yanking you till your bottom was at the end of the bed.

"Fuck." Aegon caught sight of your pussy again, palming himself over his boxers. "You're so fucking wet for me." His fingers reached down, being coated by your wetness as he slid through your folds.

He finally pulled his boxers down, swallowing the frustration down as he tried to ignore it. Your mouth hung up, watering slightly as his cock sprung free. His pre cum leaked from his tip, angrily staring at you.

Once Aegon caught you, staring at his cock hungrily, he chuckled. He knew that within seconds he could have you like putty underneath him and then finally he'd be able to feel those spongy walls.

He stepped between your legs gliding his cock between your slit. Nudging your clit as he gathered your wetness, making sure to coat his cock. You whimpered, feeling his cock slide against you. Your cunt clenched down, wanting to feel him inside of you.

Aegon poked his tip at your entrance, hoping to push his luck at your dazed reaction. But you pushed him back with your foot again, shaking your head as a reminder. Aegon groaned, grabbing your legs to squeeze them together as he finally slid his cock between your plump thighs. His cock still sliding against your cunt as he did so, the tip nudging your clit ever so often.

You liked this, watching him pant on top of you as he tried to reach pleasure. He was struggling, loving the soft feeling of your thighs but knowing that your cunt would feel great. It was there, teasing and taunting him as he rubbed against it.

Not everything was so bad from this position. He could watch your ample breasts bounce as he humped himself into you. But as your rutted your hips up into him, whimpers coming from your lips, something snapped within him.

You knew that look in his eye as he brought his cock out from your thighs, tip prodding at your entrance to see your reaction . Your breath caught in your throat as he slid slightly in, your cunt clenching around him. He pulled straight back out, hissing at the sensation.

His hands wrapped around your calves, pressing them into the mattress as your knees touched your ribs again. In this position, with his weight pressed against you, you were completely vulnerable to him. Both of you knew it.

You knew what was coming and in a sick way you wanted him to just take it. In an even more twisted way you probably had wanted him to take it since the moment you had arrived, not wanting to admit to it though.

Without warning he slid into you, your cunt letting him slip in as he bottomed out slowly. You both moaned, his cock slipping in and out of you.

"Just-fuck," you whined, eyes squeezing shut as he pushed in and out of you. He was staring at you, eyes blown out and dark with desire as he taunted you. His cock sliding in and out so slowly, that you were a stuttering mess with your words. "Pl-please go faster."

"I just love it when you beg," Aegon teased, slamming into you completely. He leaned down over you, hovering his lips over yours. "Keep begging, Y/N."

"Please," you repeated, sounding so desperate as you looked up at him.

He was smirking down at you, chuckling menacingly as he started to pound his hips into you harder and faster. Your eyes started to brim with tears as your lower stomach tightened.

"Keep looking at me, my love," Aegon whispered into your lips, letting them touch but not kissing you. Your eyes connected and the moment felt so intimate as your hands gripped onto his arms. "I want to watch as you cum around my cock."

That's all it took, the pleasure being all consuming as your core clenched on him. You cried out his name as your pussy squirted all over him. Your cunt was squeezing him, ripping his own pleasure from him as he came underneath you. His cum squirting inside of you, painting your walls.

Both of you were completely blissed out, trying to catch your breath as Aegon's grip released you. You pulled your legs out from underneath him, wrapping them around his waist as he collapsed on top of you.

After a few moments, he finally slid out and you whimpered slightly as you felt his hot cum slip out of you.

Aegon disappeared into the en suite for a moment, coming back out with a wet towel and a proud smirk on his face. He gently reached between your thighs, wiping your pussy as he cleaned you up. You hummed at the sensation, closing your eyes as you relaxed.

You crawled back up the bed, slipping underneath the sheets as you waited for him. It wasn't long before he moved in beside you, pulling you onto his chest.

For a second you realised you both hadn't said anything, the silence quite comfortable between you. His fingers tickling the skin of your arm as he traced shapes there, you were sure he was spelling out your name.

"Aegon," you whispered, tangling your leg in between his. He lifted your chin with his fingers, your gaze falling upon his face. You knew then as you felt your heart stop in your chest, how you felt for him. "I love you." Your heart constricted, tears forming around yours eyes. "I'm in love with you."

"I know," Aegon said, your head falling into his chest.

"What are we going to do?" You asked him, sobbing into his chest. "It's not like we can just be together. You're my cousin. We are family."

He hushed you, his fingers grazing your back as to calm your cries. "We will figure this out together but for now don't think too much into it. Just enjoy this moment with me."

You looked back up at him, nodding as you nibbled on your lip. His hands cupped your face, thumbs wiping your tears before he leaned into to kiss you. His lips made you forget, letting his presence sooth you. Your body relaxing into his once again.

"If it's any constellation, I love you too," Aegon whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

With both of your body's wrapped up in each other, you slept for once peacefully. As if nothing in the world existed outside the room, as if nothing else truly mattered.

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#aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen

[judessangel]

since we are both rma fan can you make one where reader tries to convince joao to join real madrid?

if u dont write for joao felix ignore!!!

think about it!

‌joão félix x f!reader

summary: the request 😵‍💫

a/n: ill try to post everyday since i have a few requests (thank u very much!!) keep sending them in more, it gives me motivation. very short btw im so sorry:(

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

joao was the star player of barcelona, the team that rivaled real madrid for years. he was known for his incredible skills and was loved by fans all over the world. however, there was one fan in particular who had her eyes set on him—y/n

y/n had been a die-hard real madrid fan her whole life,thanks to her brother. she had grown up watching their matches with her family and had always loved when seeing her team win against barcelona.

it isnt that she hated barcelona, she did still support the team, but she always thought that madrid was just better.

but when she met joao, everything changed,

they had met at a charity event and immediately hit it off. y/n couldn't believe her that she was with a guy who played for barcelona, not in a mean way, but didn't that mean shes betraying her team?

but as their relationship grew, y/n couldn't ignore the fact that joao was playing for their rival team. she tried to brush it off, thinking that it was just a game and it didn't really matter.

but deep down, she couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment every time she saw him in a barcelona jersey at his games.

one day, y/n decided to gather up all her courage and talk to joao about it. they were sitting in their favorite cafe, sipping on coffee when she brought up the topic.

"...have you ever thought about playing for madrid?" y/n asked nervously.

joao looked at her with a surprised expression. "what do you mean? i'm happy playing for barcelona," he replied, smiling and crossing his arms.

"but why not!," y/n said, trying to convince him. "it would be a dream come true if you played for them for all of us!"

joao chuckled. "really? you know why…” he said but she wanted him to give her more than stupid motivations.

y/n knew it wouldn't be easy to convince him, but she couldn't give up. she spent the next few weeks trying to persuade joao, showing him videos of madrids best matches and talking about their history.

and to her suprise,

"ill think about it meu amor, seriously." he tilted his head and smiled,

and that was all she wanted to hear.

AGAIN! keep sending requests.

#football #la liga #real madrid #soccer #joao felix #joao #jf14 #felix #portugal #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix x y/n #judessangel