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#in three days three different books have made my cry
naturesapphic · 2 days
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Can you please do alcina having to punish her bratty little but Like her little was very overstimulated please and it's a comfort ending!! THANK YOUUUU
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Punishment
Mommy!lady dimitrescu x fem!little!reader
Warnings: spanking, hurt/comfort, soft mommy alcina
“No no no! I don wan baf!” You shouted as you stomped your feet down harshly. You’ve been acting bratty all day and alcina just had about enough of your attitude. She doesn’t understand why you’ve been acting like this but she needs to know why. “Come on princess. Be mommy’s good girl and take a bath. It won’t be long princess I promise.” She said softly as to help you calm down from your tantrum, but that didn’t seem to work. You got one of your rubber duckies and threw one at her chest.
Alcina was surprised at your actions and she didn’t want to be the bad guy but something must be done about your behavior. “That’s it little one.” She snarled and stood up and grabbed you by the arm, leading you to the bedroom the both of you shared. “Over my lap. Now.” She demanded and you shook your head no. “N-no please mommy! I-I’ll be a good girl please!” You begged her and she felt her heart break but you needed to be taught a lesson. “Don’t make me count to three.” She warned and you whimpered as you walked over to her and she bent you over her knee and started spanking you.
She spanked you ten times and made you count each of them. By the end of it you were crying and trying to get off her lap. She laid you on your stomach and went to get a cold washcloth to put on your reddened cheeks. “I’m sorry I had to punish you draga but you have been a very bratty girl today and I had to teach you a lesson. Now please tell mommy what’s going on. Mommy can’t help you if she doesn’t know what’s making you feel this way.” She said softly as she caressed your butt gently in a non sexual way. You couldn’t exactly explain why you were so ill today but you felt like this all day and you didn’t want to be a bratty girl but you just couldn’t help it.
“N-Nu feel good…u-up heres…”. You try to explain to your mommy and she’s trying to understand you. “Do you feel sad or mad?” She asked you and you said both. She thought for a moment more and said “do you feel irritated and feels like nothing is going right?”. You nodded your head and Alcina understood what was going on. You were overstimulated. That’s why you were irritated and restless today. “I understand now baby. It’s okay. Mommy is here. Why don’t we give you a bath right quick and put on our matching pjs on and I can read you some of your favorite books. How about that my little bat?” She asked you and you gently nodded, wanting to do those things and you wanted to be your mommy’s good girl again.
“Good girl.” Alcina said as she put you in the bath and let you play for a while before getting you out and drying you with your favorite fluffy towel. She put you in a little bat onesie and alcina put on her big bat onesie. You giggled happily and hugged her legs indicating that you wanted her to pick you up. She lifted you up in her strong arms and went back into the bedroom and went over to y’all’s book shelf’s to let you pick out your favorite books. Once you selected them, she laid you down on the bed and she got in next to you, letting you lay on top of her breast as she read to you until you fell into a deep sleep. She kissed your forehead gently and covered the both of you up. “Sleep well my little bat. Mommy loves you and she always will.”
A/n: I hope @yourcoolistjennifertillyfan enjoys this and I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too! Requests are still open for all of my characters including of course Rhea ripley/Demi Bennett. I have my own buy me a coffee page! You can give me a dollar and it will help. I also have some different commission types I will do so here's my page to look into it :) https://www.buymeacoffee.com/naturesapphic Requests are open for yeehaw!wanda, country!wanda, and any other southern variants of Wanda or Natasha! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y'all!
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starkwlkr · 2 months
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I LOVE YOUR CHARLES FICS ESPECIALLY THE RUBY ONES OMG! This might sound strange, but could you write one where Y/N gets tired of the paparazzi and tries to physically fight a reporter? Kinda like the björk reporter incident in the 90’s. I wanna hear Charles and ruby’s reactions!
that’s my wife! | charles leclerc
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charles: you know the only reason i got married was so i could yell that’s my wife whenever i wanted?
also i made it SLIGHTLY different so instead of fighting the paparazzi, mama leclerc throws hands with toxic f1 fanboys 😍
Y/n always hated paparazzi, it was no surprise. She knew from the start of her relationship with Charles that she would be photographed whenever they stepped out. She knew what she was getting herself into when she started dating Charles and she tried to ignore it. It worked for a couple years and then Ruby and Mathéo came along. Being a mother changed Y/n. She was more protective of her children and husband.
When she wasn’t in the paddock, she was back home in Monaco with the kids and Pascale. The wag pages updated on where she was and some fans would try to find her.
During the week that Charles was away, Y/n was out with the kids in sunny Monaco. Ruby needed new school supplies and Y/n needed to buy Mathéo new clothes so she took both of her kids to the store. Charles has told her many times to at least have someone with her when she went out, but Y/n didn’t think it was necessary.
“Maman! Can I have this one?” Ruby pointed to a pink backpack that was on a window display.
“You already have a backpack, my love, we are only buying items we need like journals and books for you and new clothes for Théo, okay? And maybe we’ll get ice cream after. How does that sound?” Y/n asked the little girl, who seemed bummed that she wasn’t getting the pretty pink backpack she saw, but cheered up when her maman mentioned ice cream.
Ruby held onto the stroller as the family of three walked the sidewalk to the nearest store that sold school supplies. That’s when Ruby noticed a man pointing his phone at them. She wondered why and asked her maman.
“Let’s go inside, quickly.” Y/n told Ruby as they finally made it to the store.
“Why is he staring?” Ruby stared back at the man and even stuck out her tongue at him when he wouldn’t stop recording.
“Don’t pay attention, Ruby Jules. Let’s go.” Y/n grabbed Ruby’s hand.
“I don’t like him, maman.” Ruby whispered.
“I don’t either,” Y/n sighed as she started her shopping. But the man, who was still recording, decided to make her day worse.
“Tell Charles that Max is the better driver!” He was clearly trying to get a reaction out of her. “Fuck Ferrari!”
And suddenly, Y/n had so much anger built up in her that it made her snatch the phone from the man’s hands and throw it as far as possible. It practically landed on the other side of the shop.
“What the fuck!”
“Don’t ever disrespect my husband like that. Have the day you deserve, shithead.” Y/n turned the stroller holding a sleeping Mathéo and grabbed Ruby’s hand. “Fuck you.” She pushed past the man as she exited the shop.
As the mom had her back turned, Ruby stuck her tongue out again at the stranger.
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“And then maman said a bad word and we left! But the phone flew so far and the man looked like he was going to cry!” Ruby said enthusiastically into the phone. Charles was still gone, but news spread of the incident in the shop. Most people were defending Y/n’s actions since the man was clearly harassing the family.
“Really? So maman almost made a grown man cry, that’s my wife!” Charles laughed. Before talking with Ruby on the phone, he had gotten the full story from his wife.
“That’s my maman!” Ruby yelled.
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3hks · 1 month
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How to Get Better at Writing Without Actually Writing
Are you looking to improve your writing without needing to write? I'll admit, I am definitely that kind of person--I have the hardest time even finding something interesting to write--despite that, I have noticed that my writing has vastly improved over the past year or two when it was hardly a hobby, and here's how I did it!
ANALYZE DIFFERENT WORKS
Yes yes, everyone tells you to READ, READ, and READ, even I will agree. However, unlike what some people tell you, you don't actually have to read all those classics like Heart of Darkness or The Hobbit. Of course, those books are very beneficial, but if you find no interest in those types of books (like me), then don't read them!
If you prefer reading casual stories posted by online authors, whether it be a fanfiction or their own, original story, it still qualifies as reading! As long as you are able to find a work that you particularly enjoy, that's all you need!
When reading, the key to improving at writing is to always study the story. Take a moment to look at certain words or phrases that stick out to you. How does the author use them? What do they mean? Keep track of the characters' development and how it affects them. Additionally, note things like powerful scenes, dialogue, and more to have an idea of how you can create something just as impactful. For example, if a text made you cry, think about how and why you reacted like that. This can actually help you re-create events that hold the same effectiveness, if not more!
To add on, if you really dislike reading just that much, then you can always analyze things like shows, movies, etc. However, this will prove to be less efficient because you often don't get access to the text behind the shows. Still, it's a good way to study the plot, characters, character developments, dialogue, and relationships!
2. PROOFREADING
No, I'm not saying that you should be an editor; this actually ties back to my first tip. Remember how I said that if you don't want to read classics, then don't? Well, this is because forcing yourself to read them is completely unnecessary (unless you like them or want to write like the author, of course). As a matter of fact, reading poorly written stories can be very helpful for improvement!
When we read books or novels that have obvious grammar errors, repetitive words, and choppy sentences, we will realize these mistakes and point them out to ourselves. Being able to scout out faults means that we are able to learn from them and grow! Noticing these things will also help prevent you from making the same or similar mistakes!
3. STUDY TIPS ONLINE
I used to go search up websites on Google whenever I wanted help with a certain topic. Of course, not all of the sites are reliable and/or helpful, but some point out good ideas that a couple of us just need! This can be especially useful regarding the things that we are unfamiliar with when writing. They can offer a base foundation and tips on how to start and finish!
They can also serve as a great inspiration for fresh ideas and new perspectives!
Yes, these three tips are pretty simple; however, I have found that they work very well for me! People vary from person-to-person, so it can't be guaranteed the same effect, but this is the best I got! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! <3
Happy writing~
3hks :)
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badbtssmut · 3 months
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After Namjoon’s special tutorial, the guys have a go at fucking you.
Jungkook | Taehyung | Jimin
Contains: Freeuse, y/n gets fucked in front of her boyfriend Namjoon, missionary, pussy praise, rough
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“You are really wet, y/n.” Jungkook said in awe as he stroked the tip up and down your soaking folds, his eyes fixated on the way your essence clung to the mushroom tip. The smell of your arousal filled the room, mingling with the musky scent of his.
“She was really excited to see you, Jungkook. She couldn’t stop talking about you, isn’t that right, babe?” Namjoon cooed, looking up from his book. Your boyfriend was monitoring the two of you, making sure that you were always having fun and that none of his friends went too far, and to guide the guys incase they had any questions.
“Yes.” You answered truthfully. You couldn’t stop fantasizing about the three guys, and now that this day was here, you couldn’t believe it. You could feel your heartbeat between your legs as the young man slowly slid the tip of his cock between your folds. The sensation made you whimper. It was both nerve wracking and exciting to have another cock besides your boyfriend’s inside of you.
Jungkook slowly pushed his cock in deeper, slowly taking it inch by inch, filling you up so completely. You bit down on your bottom lip, feeling his length slide against your walls as he buried himself deep within you.
“Ah shit!” Jungkook cussed, pausing as he furrowed his eyebrows together, his eyes shut. “Fuck, fuck, hyung, is she supposed to be this tight? Fuck! Oh shit, is she really gripping me like this or am I just imagining things because it’s the first time I’m doing this shit?“
Namjoon chuckled, his voice deep. He was obviously amused. “I think it’s a little bit of both, but yes, she really is this tight. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Jungkook nodded. He didn’t say anything, he was still trying to adjust.
Jungkook slowly started to thrust in and out of you, his hips moving at a slow and steady pace, his face scrunched up.
“She feels incredible, she feels even better than I thought she would…ah shit! I want to fuck her hard, hyung, can I do that? Can I fuck her really hard like she does with you, hyung? Please?”
The desperation and eagerness in his voice was evident, and it was clear that he was holding back.
You felt a wave of arousal hit you at his words. This was all so surreal, but you weren’t complaining.
“Do you want Jungkook to fuck you harder, y/n?” Namjoon asked.
You nodded.
“Then you have my permission. Fuck her hard, Kookie. Give her a good fucking. Make her cry out.” A devilish grin appeared on his face, his dimples making an appearance. He looked so sexy.
Jungkook looked down at you, his eyes gazing over your lips, at which you pulled him closer and pressed your lips against his, kissing him softly.
His thrusts became faster and harder, his hips meeting yours in a loud slapping sound that filled the room. The sound of his skin hitting yours echoed along with his deep groans.
You moaned against his lips, breaking the kiss, as he thrust in and out of you.
“Jungkook!” You cried out. His name falling from your lips.
“You like that? Do you like me fucking you like this? Do you like how my cock fills you up?”
You were surprised at his words. He sounded different, a side of him you never got to see. He was always the quiet one around you, but this side of him, his dirty talk, the way he fucked you, you were enjoying it a lot.
“Yes, just like that, keep doing that.” You whispered, and he leaned in for another kiss. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing down on him everytime he thrust forward, and your hand tangled in his hair, tugging on it.
Jungkook moaned against your lips, and you felt him shudder as he fucked you harder, his hips moving faster and his thrusts more erratic.
“Pussy so good, so warm, so wet, feels amazing, it’s like you’re giving my cock a massage, so fucking good.”
The way he was praising your pussy and the way he was fucking you, his hips slamming into yours, his cock filling you up, hitting all the right spots, you could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm.
He kept whispering dirty things to you, things that drove you wild.
The both of you didn’t talk, instead letting the moans and groans that escaped your mouths speak for themselves. The room filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, creaking, slapping skin, and moans.
Both of your eyes were closed, getting lost in the dirty pleasure, thoughts only on each other’s genitalia, Jungkook thinking about how good it felt to have your warm soft pussy clenching around his cock and you thinking about how good his cock felt stretching your pussy.
As he pounded into you, the bed moved and rocked beneath the two of you. Your hands gripped onto the bed sheets, trying to keep your body in place as his hips thrusted forward, his cock slamming into your wet pussy, his balls hitting your ass with each movement.
Jungkook’s pace slowed down, pausing as he panted, his chest heaving up and down, his breathing uneven, and sweat dripping from his forehead.
Your eyes were half-lidded, your chest also rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.
Jungkook grabbed a pillow, placing it under your ass and lifting your hips, before he started to pound into you again.
“O-oh!” You shivered, feeling his cock hit a whole new spot, a deeper angle.
He kept going, his hips moving in a rhythmic motion, his thrusts hard and fast, his hands gripping onto your ass tightly, his nails digging into your flesh.
His eyes were glazed over, his jaw clenched, his hair sticking to his forehead and his muscles tensed.
He looked so sexy.
It turned you on, seeing him look like this, a completely different side to him. You glanced over to your boyfriend who was looking at you with a smirk, his cock pressing against his pants as he watched you have fun.
You moaned, your back arching and your toes curling, as he continued to fuck you, the pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach.
It took a few more minutes of silently fucking, until Jungkook spoke up first to break the silence.
“I’m going to cum, pussy is too good, can’t hold it any longer…” He growled, his eyes darkening.
Before you could say anything, you felt his cock throbbing inside of you, before he let out a long drawn out moan.
You could feel him twitch inside of you, before a rush of warmth filled your womb. His cock pulsating inside of you as his warm seed filled you up.
He groaned, his eyes rolling back, and his mouth opened, as he let out a string of curses, his body trembling.
Your walls clenched around his cock, milking him, and making him squirt out more of his semen inside of you.
As he came, his hips continued to jerk, his body shaking and his arms quivering.
Once his orgasm passed, he pulled out, panting heavily. His body was glistening with sweat and his face flushed, his chest rising and falling.
After that, Jungkook stayed for a few more minutes before you and Namjoon bid him farewell.
Your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and kissed you against the neck.
“You didn’t get to cum, y/n. Do you want me to help you out with that?” He asked.
You giggled.
“Yes please, and maybe after, we can take a shower together? I’m all sweaty and sticky.“
"I’d love to.”
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sleepyangelkami · 27 days
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PLAY PRETEND (j.t)
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a/n: i intended for this to be a fake girlfriend to real girlfriend story but i got carried away in the plot!!
pairing: jason todd x fem!reader best friend!dick grayson x fem!reader
summary: jason needs someone to act as his girlfriend to the gala, which you decide to go along with but jealousy and alcohol get the better of you leading to one too many drunken confessions.
warnings: drinking, alcohol, bad descriptions of being drunk, jealousy, angst, pining, manipulation, skinny love, crying, slight panic attack, use of good girl (non-sexual), comfort, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 💞
words: 3,165
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you stood with your back against the drinks table, sighing through your pouted lips as you glanced around the room, hoping for some type of entertainment to catch your eye. you didn't even wish to be here, in fact, you would have done just about anything to be snuggled up in your bed reading a book right about now.
jason was the reason you were here in the first place and yet, he was nowhere to be seen.
you’d heard of the wayne gala’s a lot before, it wasn’t exactly new to you. you’d been to a couple of them yourself too but there was a reason you didn’t come to them often and one could guess it was because this is how it always ended, you sat up against the drinks table with expensive alcohol swirling in your expensive glass and dressed in your expensive dress. it was so… not you.
you were the type of girl that dragged your friends to junk yards and bought the cheapest clothes that you saw hidden in thrift stores. 
not the type of girl that attended wayne gala’s. 
and yet, here you stood all because you were so helplessly smitten with your all time best friend, jason todd, the son of bruce wayne, the redhood, the gentleman, the many, many things. he’d asked you to go to the wayne gala’s with him before, offering it up yet you always politely declined, stating it wasn’t your scene but this time was simply different.
you’d sat up on your bed, flicking through your magazines while jason rambled on as he began tearing his tie from around his throat. it was late, too late but jason never did care for the time when it came to seeing you.
you swallowed, nodding along and humming. it was just so late and you’d only woken up so your mind was all fuzzy and for some reason you couldn’t stop thinking about how nice some grapes would taste right about now. “are you listening to me?” the question from jason was rhetorical but you’d be lying if you said your undivided attention as on him. “i’m a dead man!” 
“it’s not that big of a deal.” you uttered, closing your magazine and sighing, you really wanted some grapes. “really, you’re only stressing yourself out. you’re an… attractive guy, i’m sure you’ll get a girlfriend between now and the next gala.”
“but thats the thing… i don’t want a girlfriend!” sheesh, your head was too clouded for his yelling. “i shouldn’t have opened my mouth.”
you could only shrug your shoulders, nodding. “true.”
he took a seat on the pink quilts that surrounded your bed, his head falling into his hands and groaning. “you’re not helping.” 
jason had made the idiotic choice of lying to bruce when asked if he had a girlfriend. he was just so tired of him asking and asking and asking so he decided to lie, telling him that he did in fact have a girlfriend and that they’d been together for quite a while now, he’d just been saving the announcement for a more special day.
so what did bruce do? announce it at his next gala, stating that jason would surely be bringing her along for the next.
and jason almost choked on his bourbon. 
he was dressed in his suit from before, his hair all messed and teased while his clothes just looked out of it, his shirt untucked, his jacket discarded on the ground and he had pulled the tie from his neck, unbuttoning the first two or three buttons, he felt like he was going to collapse.
“i’m sorry.” you spoke softly, feeling sympathetic for your ‘best friend’. you turned to him, clad in your pretty pink pijama’s and softening your gaze on him. “how can i help?” 
the way you looked at him should have told him everything. what your gaze should have said was that you were in love with him, you had been since the very first day you’d laid your eyes on him, gaze never leaving and your jaw falling slack. okay, perhaps you hadn’t loved him during your first encounter but there was definitely… something, something that told you this wasn’t just any boy but he was something much much more.
it should have told him a lot of things, should have spilled your feelings right then and there but jason was as oblivious as they come, he hadn’t a notion of what your gaze meant. in fact, he blamed the diluted pupils on the fact that he’d woken you up, banging on your door at all hours of the night. 
“you could help in one way but… nevermind, it’s stupid.” shaking his head and turning away. the master of manipulation.
and you looked almost concerned then, the victim of that very manipulation. “no, what is it? i wanna help.” 
and he knew you did, it’s why he said anything in the first place. sweet old you, always willing to do anything he said, just to please him.
“you could… you know, pretend to be my girlfriend, it would just be for the night, for the gala. you know, to get everyone off my back?” his eyes stared back at you, big and hopeful.
how could you, in your right mind, say no when you were so utterly full of love for the boy. “wha… i don’t even have a dress.” an excuse, a terrible one because something in you was downright shocked. you? of all people? first, you could barely go to that gala as it was let alone pretend to be his girlfriend.
besides, you began to get a little worried. perhaps you’d like the pretend game a little too much. 
“i’ll buy you a dress.” he insisted almost instantly. lord knew he had the money.
but you frowned a little at that. “i’m not a charity case, jay…” sure, your apartment was a little small but it was homely, it was you. though you were sure it didn’t much live up to jasons standards.
“not a charity case, i know.” he came a little closer, pressing his hand against your thigh and rubbing it gently. “i just want you to feel your best for the night, angel, it’s just one night.” 
you bit down on your lip, knowing you’d regret it. “fine.” 
but for jason, you’d face just about any guilt. 
and after his many thank you’s and squishing hugs that had your face smushed against your chest you finally sighed out. “I can’t believe i’m doing this for you.” sending him a playful glare though there was a pit in your stomach.
“please.” he couldn’t help but smirk. “you love me.” 
and you couldn’t possibly tear your eyes away from him. without playfulness or a smile, you spoke the words, “I’d have to be a fool.” before quickly shaking your head and changing the subject. “you have to wear a pink tie to match my dress.” 
he had the audacity to laugh in your face. “I will not.” 
“yes you will.” you folded your arms over your chest. “you will or i’m not going.” 
jason couldn’t help but shake his head with a chuckle. “fine.” 
“fine.” you repeated. “now go get me grapes from the fridge.” 
brat. 
you’d been announced as his girlfriend, he’d held your waist for the entire night, grinned and beamed over at you as his brothers watched sceptically. 
now, you sat alone at a table, downing what felt like your hundredth glass.
you didn’t drink often so you gave yourself a little lean for this time, seeing as you never did it, now was your chance to get absolutely… shitfaced, did damian call it? 
but it wasn’t as if you didn’t have a good reason. 
jason, your best friend, your first and last love, was standing speaking to some blonde girl, she was giggling away, obviously pleased with herself as if she didn’t have a lipgloss smudge on her teeth. and you? you couldn’t have been more ashamed with yourself. 
your head was placed on your arm that was slinked across the white tablecloth, just watching the pair as the alcohol swirled in your cup. you wondered how you went from eating the white grapes to downing the white wine in your hands.
then your eyes glanced back to jason, in his pretty pink tie, and it all made sense. 
he was your best friend, you had no right to be jealous, no reason to be but for some reason you thought by him bringing you here, introducing you as his girlfriend meant something. 
but it was all just play pretend. 
you knew this, you knew it as well as anyone and yet you still couldn’t help but feel so utterly… hurt.
your eyes burned but you weren’t crying, your throat burned but that was only because of the alcohol that didn’t even taste nice.
they should really have grapejuice here, the non-alcoholic kind. 
it was dick grayson who’d laid his hands on your shoulders that adverted your gaze from jason. your pupils were wide, the rims of your eyes red though you weren’t sure if that was due to the alcohol or the fact that you were holding your own tears at bay. 
“hey, y/n, how you feeling?” his tone was soft, understanding. he really was one of your best friends. he was crouched down to your level as you sat in the chair.
you glanced down to the cup in your hands. “think ‘m drunk, dickie.” because suddenly the entire room was spinning. 
“yeah.” he pressed his lips into a thin line. “think maybe you’re done for tonight, huh?” taking the glass from your hands before you could so much as protest.
with heavy eyes and an even heavier heart, you nodded your head. “think ‘m… ‘m gonna go home.” home was where your bed is, they say. but saying you were going home and directing it towards your house didn’t even sound right. home was that curly, raven haired boy with a pretty smile.
“don’t go home.” his eyes glanced towards jason, sighing. “don’t go before you’ve talked to him.” 
dick was one of your best friends. with that being said, he knew everything about you down to where your birthmarks were, that meant he knew all about these hidden feelings for your supposed best friend jason todd, his dear little brother. 
but you could only shake your head. even thinking about jason right now was enough to make you queasy. “no, he’s talkin’ to blondie.” blondie, the pretty girl who you couldn’t even judge if you wanted to. she had a dark black dress on, she was much taller than you, large heels and standing with her shoulders drawn back, obviously much more confident too. 
was she everything that you lacked? 
as if summoning him, you could feel the dark shadow that loomed over you, even with your head pressed against that damned tabelcloth, even that was expensive. 
“is she alright?” 
that voice, that pretty, deep, and almost mysterious voice yet as perplexing as it was, you were sure that you’d recognise that voice amiss any crowd, through any drink that entered your system. jason still roamed your mind, always and when his voice was spoken, you were sure to hear it. 
“she’s drunk.” dick answered for you, as though you weren’t sitting right next to him. “i think you should bring her upstairs, get her cleaned up and put to bed.” dick was doing you a favour in the long run, even if it didn’t feel like it.
but your head had finally risen from the table, big doey eyes staring up at the two large men above you. “n-no i can… i can bring myself home.” your words slurring.
jason couldn’t help but laugh down at you, glossy lips turned into a pout. “yeah, cause i’d let you ride your little bicycle through gotham alone, at this hour of the night, in the state that you’re in.” of course, you were the only one in the entire world that would ride one of those pretty pink bikes with a woven basket in gotham. “come on, let me put you to bed.” 
you don’t remember bidding goodbye to dick but you were sure you had. you didn’t remember moving from the table to the door, practically being pushed by jason. however, you did vaguely remember uttering the words, “you need’a say g’night to blondie.” to which he responded with. “who?” 
that confused you because he genuinely seemed confused, as though he hadn’t even remembered the colour of the hair belonging to the girl he’d just spoken to. had he really been that uninterested or was he just putting on a show?
you did remember, however, sitting on the cold tiles of jason’s bathroom floor after he’d undressed you, stripping you to your undergarments and placing a long tee over you. you remembered the way his hands gently did it, soothing you as he went, uttering soft words and assuring you that it was okay.
in no way did he make anything sexual, instead, he was merely caring for his ‘best friend’. 
you remembered the way the tears began rolling down your cheeks as you dry sobbed pathetically, the drink getting the better of you.
jason had been tending to your face, a cotton pad covered in micellar water gently cleansing your skin, softly dancing it across the makeup that covered your face and wiping it clean. he wasn’t used to taking off makeup, obviously, so this was a little difficult for him. but he got used to it.
it wasn’t the first time he’d done it for you.
only difference was this time he was comforting your cries at the same time. “shh, shh, c’mon, tell me wh’s the matter, baby?” all soft and gentle with you as you couldn’t do anything but let the liquidy tears fall down your face, trying to avoid his gaze. “c’mon, tell jay wh’s wrong so he can fix it.” 
but how were you to tell him that the reason you were crying was because you loved him? 
you couldn’t, so instead you opted for shaking your head, words practically heaving out of you as your breaths became laboured and uneven. 
jason could tell where this was going. 
he’d comforted you on multiple occasions, some worse than others but that didn’t change the fact that he knew you from the inside and out. “hey, hey, breathe, pretty girl, breathe.” 
he’d taken your head in the palm of his hand, gently placing it against his chest so that you could feel the way his own chest rose and fell and hear the way his heart beated against his ribcage. he knew this was a good thing to do when it came to you, this was a reminder that he was alive and by the way you could hear and feel it too, surely, you were alive as well. 
it was grounding. 
“in with me, c’mon, angel.” breathing in and you followed, trying to take as much air into your lungs as you possibly could. “‘n out, good girl.” he praised, hearing the shaky breath that you still let out.
when your breathing had regulated back to normal, there were still tears streaming down your face and you couldn’t help but cry and whimper pathetically. you could blame the alcohol or you could blame the fact that you’d gotten so caught up in play pretend that you’d forgotten yourself, who you were and what you really meant to jason. 
“s-shouldn’t have come.” you muttered through your desperate cries. “shouldn’t have come here.” while the messy tears coated your perfect skin. 
it broke jason’s heart. you were his bubbly girl, always grinning and smiling, laughing at jokes you didn’t understand, grinning at people you didn’t even particularly like, you were nothing but good. you were gold, if the colour was a person, it was you. your heart was as big as a heart could get yet you know what they say, the bigger the person, the harder they fall.
and sometimes your poor golden heart simply couldn’t take the mean world. 
“what?” suddenly, his own heart began to shatter. he suddenly felt as though it was his fault. you were acting like this because you didn’t want to be here, because either something had happened or simply you were too overstimulated due to the gala itself (poor oblivious jason still hadn’t got it right.) whatever the case, he’d been the one to drag you along here and now he felt guilt pang his heart heavily. “no, no everyone loved you, what are you talking about?” 
your teary, broken eyes glanced up at him, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 
perhaps it was the too much alcohol that had entered your lightweight system or perhaps it was the way he looked so… dreamy, even through your blurred vision. his pretty sapphire eyes gazed down at you, so full of concern and worry. he cared so deeply about you, you could tell from his eyes. the slope of his nose, his pretty lips drawn into a frown, his sharp jaw line and the little curls of his hair, white streaks at the front on wide display.
“i’m a fool.” you uttered, so pathetically, full of realisation.
once again, his black brows furrowed in confusion yet also so full of concern. he wanted to understand, to help you but you were proving it awfully difficult, not that he blamed you. “what? you’re not a fool, what are you talking about?” 
you sniffled, practically blubbering. “i told you i’d have to be a fool to love you ‘n if that’s true then i’m a fool.” you hadn’t a notion of what possessed your mouth to move, possessed you to speak. “‘m the biggest fool in the world because i love you so much ‘n im scared i’ll never be able to stop loving you.” 
and the biggest problem was that you were sure he’d never feel the same. 
“is that what all of this is about?” he had to stop himself from chuckling at you, otherwise you’d take it the wrong way and the tears would begin again. instead, his eyes softened and his hand came down to move the hair from your face. “you should have just told me, princess, all of this could have been avoided.” 
you stared up at him with those dazed, confused eyes. 
“when i told you i didn’t want a girlfriend.” he confessed. “it wasn’t because i didn’t want one it was because i didn’t want one that’s not you.” you had to blink at him, thinking it was all merely a dream. “i love you too, sweet girl, always have, always will.” 
and you were sure it was a dream. 
“jay?” 
“yeah?” 
“will you tell me this again when i’m sober?” 
a chuckle. 
“of course, angel.” 
“promise?” 
“i promise.” 
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main masterlist/jason's masterlist
a/n: oh jaybird, how i have missed writing you!!
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garcavisconde · 1 year
Text
“Humans are such a pathetic little thing”, the Ambassador of Elriene said, on her all-mighty, echoing voice. “Always trying to show off, to look better than the pathetic, soft, flesh creatures they truly are”.
The flames of the broken ship were getting bigger, hungrier, consuming whatever they could. A precise, surprise attack to get more treasures.
The Ambassador played with the crystal ball on her hand, watching as it glew with sunlight. All the aliens below her lowered their eyes, terrified of her wrath. For the Ambassador, this was all but another day of work, conquering and taking everything the Land of Elriene deemed below them. And she was their terrifying, beautiful beast.
“Humans are a plague”, she said, sounding like a whisper. “A crooked, evil plague. They take what they want, they leave sickness behind. They do not care about any of you, for their greed is far stronger than any sense of love. You are all lucky for having me there; otherwise, your little humans would for sure destroyed you in order to survive this deathworld you crashed in”.
Then, like she wanted to make her cruel joke come to a conclusion, she turned to one of her guards. He immediately grabbed one of the three humans that were lying on the ground, tossing him to the Ambassador’s front.
The earthling whispered curses as he raised his head, staring into her cold eyes.
“Pathetic thing”, she said. “What are you going to tell me? That deep down, you humans are all good? Or, mayhaps, that even if you are indeed cruel, you still chose to be good, to be better?”
The man blinked. On the other side, the crew watched with horror, not being able to do anything else but pray that a miracle would happen.
He took a deep breath, then. The Ambassador always made sure to show everyone in the entire Universe of the last words her enemies would say, making sure that even the brighest cry of hope sounded more like a pathetic whimper of a fool.
“No”, the human whispered.
“Oh?”
The Ambassador was smiling. Of course she was; she had won. No human survives the anger of the Land of Elriene.
“I was going to say that you’re a moron and that I’m going to hunt your ass down to the ends of the Universe.
But all humans made sure to make a spetacle.
“You... What?”
She was more annoyed than surprised. That whole ideal was like a vermin being annoying to the good, righteous gardener, who always worked hard to keep the place clean and beautiful.
“Can’t understand something simple like being called a moron?”, he added, smiling menacingly. “Damn, your guards must pity you so much, they can’t even say something as obvious as that. Sorry for them”.
“What an interesting insect we have here...”.
“I’m a mammalian, actually. Weren’t you a human hunter? You kind of need to know this sort of stuff”.
“Careful, Brian!”, a second human, Dominique, rose their voice, dark eyes gleeming with delight. “I don’t think she can understand that. Her planet doesn’t have many mammalians”.
“Oh, sorry for that, girl”, Brian procceeded, apologising with a head nod. “Human education is kinda different. I thought that, since you hated humans so much, you would know more”.
The Ambassador looked at the two... Gremlins. Yes, the precise word! Bad, nasty, pesky gremlins! She raised her head, too disgusted to look at them in the face: “I know what a ‘mammalian’ is. I simply did not comprehend just how stupid you could be. And here I was, actually being careful with my plans! Vermin like you-”
“Mammalian”, the third and final human, Antônia, corrected her.
“Vermin like you”, the Ambassador insisted. “Should die. Just like the way your planet died”.
“We brought Earth back, though?”, Brian asked. “That’s basic human history”.
“What if she can’t read human books?”, Antônia suggested. “Poor girl! You should get yourself a translator. They are really cool. I use one!”
“ENOUGH!”
The trio shut themselves, looking at the all-mighty, foolish Ambassador. With a skin glowing in pure blue, she floated to be above them all, tossing the crystal ball to one of her guards.
“Off with them”, was her order. “Get them out of my sights. Show these foolish ones our exterminating job”.
“Oh!”
Everyone turned to look at Dominique, who, tied up, jumped and rolled around until they could be in front of their fellow humans, pathetically trying to clap their hands.
“Me first!”, they asked.
The Ambassador rolled her eyes. “Shoot her in the arms”.
Brian could see the rest of their crew looking at them in horror. They whispered and begged for some kind of mercy, but the cruel Ambassador simply did not care. With the brevity of a blink, a shot was fired.
The aliens screamed. The humans did not.
“Uh...”, one of the guards whispered. “Ma’am... Isn’t human blood supposed to be a darker red?”
“Of course! W...”
Dominique shrugged, looking at their (prosthetic) arm splattered in the ground, a neon shade of red coming out of it, becoming strange, unusual tones as it spread around.
“Ma’am, Ambassador, girl, friend”, the human shouted. “Didn’t you know there is more than one type of human?”
“What?!”
“Yeah!”, Brian agreed. “There’s thirty-seven types of humans around”.
“What?!”
“Dominique here is kind of undead. They will rise from the grave and eat your flesh if you keep messing around with our crew!”, Antônia added, smiling. “Approach me, and I’ll tear your arms out with my silver teeth!”
She opened her mouth, showing shiny pieces of metal decorating her yellowed teeth, with a single string connecting them all. The Ambassador, never hearing of a basic thing such as braces, made a horrified, disgusting noise.
All the aliens from the Land of Elriene were allergic to silver.
“I-is that true, ma’am?!”, one of the guards asked their leader, horrified.
“N-no!”, but that did not sound like someone was sure of herself.
“AND I TELL YOU MORE!”, Brian shouted, awkwardly getting up. “Mess with me, and my ancestors are going to hunt you down even after death!”
“P-prove it, then”, the Ambassador said.
The man immediately made the most horrifying, awful, ear-shattering noise he possibly could, shaking his head around to immitate both an elrienean being mauled by a predator, and a person being possessed in an horror flick.
Brian jumped around, screaming and shaking himself, before throwing himself to the ground.
Like the vermin the Ambassador believed all humans to be, he crawled his way towards her, laughing.
“fooOooOoOOOLISH c RE aTURE”, he whispered. “dARES TO HURT OUR COMPANIONS?”
Dominique and Antônia blinked at their friend when the Ambassador kicked him in the face with a scream.
“Get out of me!”, she ordered, watching as Brian fell to the ground and...
Laughed.
“IF WE ARE VERMIN, WE ARE PARASITE. IF WE ARE PARASITE, YOU ARE OUR HOST”, he continued, ignoring Dominique awkwardly trying to hold him close. “AND WE ARE HUNGRY”.
The Ambassador screamed with horror, along all the guards. Antônia got up, showing off her (fake) silver teeth, and they all immediately started to run.
Dominique threw their prosthetic arm to the invader’s direction, warranting a scream. The Ambassador dropped the crystal ball, cursing as she ran away from the “possessed, daemonic parasite”, completely ignoring Brian coughing as he tried to recover from his own acting.
When the invaders escaped in their ship, everyone looked at the trio.
The humans smiled, of course, and shared a high-five.
“And that’s why you don’t mess with actors”.
---
Ko-fi | Commission Info
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hrtsdevils · 5 months
Text
you made me love the number forty-three | fall to me au
summary: a close-knit bond is formed between luke hughes and y/n l/n throughout the years. they have their ups and downs, but they’ll always be there for one another.
pairing: platonic luke hughes x family friend!reader
wc: 1564
warnings: fuck ass bob
a/n this is based off of abby by gracie abrams, and it’s very dear to my heart! pretend that luke wasn’t committed to umich 2 years before he graduated… for the plot! sorry jack’s kind of a meanie, i love him!!! i swear!! it just fits w the lyrics <3 enjoy and thanks for reading!
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tell me your secrets, ask every question. my door is open twenty-four/seven. think you were made from something in heaven. you made me love the number eleven forty-three.
october 2008-september 2010
Your family had known the Hughes family for as long as you could remember. Your mother had played soccer at the University of New Hampshire with Ellen, and she was the first person to cheer her on once hockey season started. This allowed them to form a close bond over their four years of eligibility. The Hughes family travelled a bit around the country due to the careers of Ellen and Jim, but as soon as they settled in Toronto with their seven, five, and three-year-old sons, your mother followed suit with five-year-old you and your eight-year-old older brother.
The older two boys in each family started hockey, and Jack was soon to follow. This left you and little Luke to hang out in the care of Ellen, and occasionally your mom. At first, you loved him, he was like your personal baby doll that you could drag around, dress up, and have tea parties with. Luke didn’t usually object, except for that one incident where you tried to make him wear “clip-clops”, as you called them, to which he had a temper tantrum about the sheer idea of putting them on his feet.
As you grew older, Luke wanted less to do with you and your girly things and more to do with hockey, along with whatever else the boys were doing. Although normal of him, you still felt betrayed. What can you say; you were seven years old. To try and make you fit in, Luke took craft scissors to your long, wavy hair and cut it to look like the boys. Maybe you’d have looked better if you had a pixie cut done by a professional salon, however, he was slightly less than and you came out with the same shaggy haircut as the five-year-old. You ran to your mom immediately, about to cry of embarrassment.
“Mommy, something bad happened!” You screeched, interrupting her conversation with Ellen and catching the attention of the three boys.
Covering her mouth slightly, Ellen was the first to speak, “Oh, sweetie.. what happened?” She reached out to touch your now chin-length locks and brushed a few stray longer hairs out of your eyes.
“Luke cut it, so I could play hockey with them.” You gesture towards the boys, “And now I... I look like him!” You exclaimed out of horror, finally realizing the drastic nature of your actions.
You started to tear up before your mother cut in, “Baby, you both look adorable! It’ll grow out soon, don’t worry about it.”
You were still seething for the rest of the day, and you were plotting your revenge plan on Luke for weeks. You wanted to kill him, and had been ignoring him since that very moment.
You figured your life was over, and what better way to spend your final moments pretending Luke didn’t exist after what he’d done to you. You decided that he was public enemy #1, or at least that’s what he was until you looked in the mirror, albeit a month or two later, and your hair had grown out into a short bob, framing your sweet features beautifully. You started to feel better about it.
Later that day, you went up to your mom and curled up in her lap. “Do you think Luke and I will ever get along again?” You asked while she was reading a book.
Your mother sighed and smiled at you, “You and the boys just have different interests. When you get older, things will be different and you’ll be even closer.”
december 2015
Your mom was right, although you and Luke were pretty far in age, he was practically your baby brother and best friend. You were close, despite differing interests and he would confide in you on a regular basis. One particular night, Luke rode his bike down the sidewalk in the cold, snowy winter and knocked on the window to your first-story bedroom.
You immediately let him in, then asked him what was wrong. Ten-year-old Luke pulled you into a hug and started spilling out his feelings and secrets. “Jack’s so rude!” He exclaimed into your shoulder, “He thinks he’s so much better at everything! Hockey, Mario Kart, basketball, all of it.”
“And?” You inquired, “Just ignore him, Lukey.”
He sniffed some more and released himself from your arms, “He keeps excluding me from his friends and stuff, they’re over and he pretends I don’t exist because I’m not good.” He wiped his nose and sat on the carpeted floor by your bed, “Quinn’s not home, he’s at a tournament with Mom.” He attempted to clarify why Quinn couldn’t stop, although you already knew because your brother was with them.
You frowned, “That’s not cool of him.” You quickly shot a text message to Jim saying Luke came over here to hang out, so nobody got worried. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded, and you offered to make some Kraft mac and cheese. “Feel free to listen to music or something, love you.” You slipped out the door and went to make him some dinner.
Since you were little, you knew for certain that you’d always be there for him and now you knew you’d always look out for him, whenever he needed it. Even if one day he’d be more able to protect himself than you ever could, today you would refrain from marching over to the Hughes residence and getting in a physical fight with Jack.
march 2020
It was almost your eighteenth birthday, so you were visiting home to hang out with your parents, the Hughes’, and a few other hometown friends. You entered the front door to your house after catching up with your friend over coffee to see your parents and the Hughes’ bent over Luke and his laptop. “What’s up?” You question, hanging up your big, puffy jacket.
“We’re waiting for my UMich college acceptance letter, they sent them out today.” He said, nervously. You could tell by the shakiness of his voice.
You joined them at the table, “Don’t be silly, Lukey. You know that they’ve already expressed interest in you and your game.” He smiled a little as you ruffled his hair, and sat down at the chair to the right of him.
“I wish Jack and Quinn were here.” Luke sighed and scratched his head, “Jack promised he’d call, but I think he’s busy.”
You frowned for him, you knew how much closer he and Jack had become in the last few years, but they’d drifted again when Jack moved to New Jersey last year. A part of you wished Jack had gone to college and stayed closer, but you and Luke knew he was too good for the NHL to wait on. “I’m sure he’ll call soon, bub. Give it a little bit.”
After about twenty minutes of refreshing and chatting, the letter from the University of Michigan popped up. It was nerve-wracking. Luke had already been accepted into a few safety schools that wanted him on their hockey teams, but he really wanted to follow in Quinn’s footsteps and go to Michigan. Luke’s cursor hovered over the email for a few moments before clicking it, and to nobody’s surprise, it was an acceptance letter. Everybody cheered, but you seemed the most excited (besides Luke, of course.)
“Luke!” You squealed, hugging the boy from the side as tight as possible, “You did it!”
He hugged you back, “Thanks for supporting me, and letting me sleep on your floor.. and buying me food all the time.” He chuckled, “Couldn’t have done it without you, sissy.”
present day
It was Luke and Jack’s day off, as they had zero games scheduled for the next few days. You had come to visit them to watch a few games, and you were staying at their apartment. It wasn’t a rare occurrence that you came and watched their games, stayed in the guest bedroom of their Hoboken apartment, and hung out with their team and whatever WAGs were joining them. But today it was just you and Luke, chilling on the couch and watching ‘Elf’.
“Remember last November when we went to New York?” You recalled while watching Buddy run through the city. Luke turned the TV down and grinned.
He nodded, “Yeah, good times. And we ate so much chocolate that you almost threw up.”
“That wasn’t because of the chocolate,” you objected, “it was because you were making me laugh so hard my organs hurt.”
Luke snorted as he remembered the vacation and the hotel room you guys stayed in. It was a spontaneous trip on a week when he was injured to try and cheer him up. You guys sat all night judging random music albums and your boyfriend at the time. It was all just a part of a collection of memories you loved to revisit, a photo album in your head.
“God, I can’t believe how old we’re getting.” You said, a tone of sadness. “You used to fit on my shoulders, and now I think you might break them if I tried to give you another piggyback ride.” You laughed softly.
“I’m grateful that our moms raised us two houses down.” Luke threw a piece of popcorn at your face.
You threw it back, “I’m grateful I get to know you.” You stated, a smile gracing your features.
i’m right here. fall to me, to me. fill your head with sweet dreams, sweet dreams. you’d never hurt a thing, nothing. i hope you know to talk to me.
end
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cinnbar-bun · 2 months
Text
Heartless Giant- Chapter 1
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(Excuse the banner)
Pairing: Crocodile x GN!Royal!Reader
Rating: SFW
First part of a collaboration with @fanaticsnail 's Storyteller collection! I chose to do the "Heartless Giant" with Crocodile. Thank you for having me as a part of this, dear <3!
Summary: Your older brothers claim that the man who tried to overthrow your kingdom is still in the dungeons below. Such a monster shouldn't possibly exist, right? After a bet and a promise, you and your brothers travel down the dungeons to find the proclaimed "giant". Those rumors should be nothing more than gossip... right?
Notes: GN!Reader, Prisoner!Crocodile (for my Impel Down Croc lovers), implied age gap, Reader is an adult but age is not specified, violence, bad siblings, protective Crocodile, "falling for my father's enemy" teehee
You can read this on my AO3 here!
Word Count: ~2.7k
It happened years ago, they said. A man- more akin to a beast, if anything- tried to take over and kill the king. Your father, ever the gallant ruler, fought the giant beast and sentenced him to eternal imprisonment in the lowest cell of the castle dungeons. 
A part of you was thankful you were not there to witness such a sight. To see your beloved father have to fight what was perhaps the scariest enemy in a long time would’ve frightened you. Yet, another part of you was admittedly… curious. Your elder brothers always warned you against going to the dungeon. They always joked that the giant would eat you and your heart. 
“He towers over everyone… his shadow looms over everything,” the eldest would say. Your second brother chuckled along with him before hunching his back and cupping his left hand. 
“He’s got a big hook, too. If his ugly face sees ya, he sinks it into ya!” He swung his arm around like it was a hook and your third brother pretended to be scared. He grinned after his performance and slunk to you. 
“And, father says, with only his right hand, the giant takes away your life. He just,” your brother covered your face with his right hand and shook you while growling loudly. “Drains you until you’re a husk!” 
You shove your brother off of you and roll your eyes. 
“There’s no way anyone like that exists,” you huff and adjust your appearance. Your three older brothers laugh wildly, as if you had told the funniest joke in history. 
“Oh come on, you didn’t see him!” The third one says. “You were on a different island!” 
“I doubt you saw him, either,” you cross your arms. “You guys would be terrified if a man like that really existed.” 
“Are ya callin’ us liars?” The second one frowns and raises a brow. “Don’t make us throw you into the dungeon with ‘im!” 
“Maybe I am! Why would you go and try to make a joke out of a man that father had to battle like that?” 
“Ugh, there you go, again,” the first rolls his eyes. “Can’t even take a joke!” 
“I think all those books ruined yer brain, (Y/n),” the second chortles as he points at the book in your hand. 
“I think all the seawater melted yours,” you shoot back and hold your book tighter. 
“Well, I just hope you can fight if that beast breaks out one day!” The third one laughs. He takes his sword out of his holster and swings it with calculated precision. He sheaths his sword and you sigh. 
“We can hope he never does,” you reply. “Maybe you three will be courageous enough to actually look him in the eye.” 
“Those are fighting words! Ya think we can’t look him in the eye?” The second yells. 
“I don’t think so,” you taunt. “He probably doesn’t even look anything like what you just said.” 
“Fine. We’ll take ya down to see him and prove to you how dangerous he is. And when you cry, we won’t save you.” 
Seeing your brothers so adamant to prove themselves made your arrogance rise as well. Not to mention, that little voice in your head that was always, always wanting to see the man your father had cursed under his breath over and over since that day. In a sick, twisted way, you wanted to see the man that nearly brought your kingdom to ruin when you were away. 
“Fine. We can all go together and we’ll see just how tough you are from the ‘giant’.” 
Your brothers smirked and nodded. The eldest stepped forward and whispered. “At midnight. Be quiet. The guards and father are having a meeting tonight. Use the back staircase and we’ll all meet by the doors.” 
All four of you shook upon it and continued with your day. Your heart raced, your thoughts drifting to that beast locked away in the dungeons. 
A man who towered over everyone. A man with a hook. A scarred face. The power to take life away with only his right hand. 
You tried to imagine how this monster would look, but all images your mind conjured were hideous and unsightly. You shivered, yet the way your feet bounced with nearly every step gave away the excitement you secretly held inside. 
After pretending to fall asleep on your bed, you waited till the moon was at its highest and opened the door. You peered out the hallways, checking if the coast was clear before scurrying along to the rendezvous point with your brothers. Just as they had promised, the three of them were waiting for you with eager grins and smiles. 
“So you really did come?” The first chuckled. “Thought you would’ve hid away.” 
“I wasn’t going to,” you clicked your tongue. “I’m ready to see how you three will react to him, though.” 
“Please, that man’s got nothing on us,” the second dismissed. “Four against one, he’s done for.” 
“More like three against one,” the third snorted, nudging his head to you. 
“I don’t need to fight. None of us should need to, actually. We’re just taking a look, and then we’re leaving.” 
They glanced around before your second brother picked the lock to the cellar with a pin he had taken from your mother. They urged you inside and checked that none of you would be discovered. 
The dungeons were dark, mildewy, and worst of all, freezing. You shivered as you realized your nightclothes were a bit too light for this cold place. 
“Come on, hurry up,” your brothers whispered as they practically ran down the steps to the lowest dungeon level. You made an effort to catch up with them before you noticed how low the temperature was down here. Every time you and your brothers let out a breath, you could see the small amounts of steam cloud around you four. 
They lived in such conditions…? 
Your brothers quickly made their way to the farthest cell in the dungeon and laughed loudly. 
“There he is!” 
“Ahaha! My god, he’s hideous!” 
“Come on, give us a glance!” 
You gasped at what your brothers were saying. “Don’t say things like that! You know better than that.” 
As foolish as you were to come down here, you were not foolish enough to insult the beast. 
The third rolled his eyes. “Oh, quiet down will you?” 
“What are you, our mother?” The first glared. He began to bang on the bars. “Wake up, will you?” 
You made your way to the cell and noticed the looming shadow in the corner. His back was towards you and your brothers, barely clothed in the rags he wore. There were two large chains wrapped around his arms, preventing him from using them to escape and use the ferocious powers your brothers discussed. He was sitting, hunched over, yet, even in this position, you could tell how large and massive he was. He hardly moved or flinched at the noise your brothers made, making them more upset. 
“Come on! Give us something! Look us in the eye!” They hit the bars again, but the man stayed as still as a statue. 
This was the man who nearly ended your kingdom… 
You didn’t need to see his face, but through his behavior alone, you knew that despite him being in the cell, you and your brothers were his prey. 
“Cut it out, now,” you warned, the anxiety creeping in your voice. 
“What? Scared? Scared the ugly beast will eat ya?” The second brother called out. The third brother continued to make loud noise. 
“Come on, we got our little sibling here! Don’t you want to impress them, giant?” He yelled before he grabbed you and pushed you against the bars. You yelped in pain and from the cold metal pressing into your face and body. 
“Stop it! Let me go!” You screamed. 
“What happened to the beast who tried to end us? Huh? I thought you gave my father a good fight! So look at us!” The first glowered at the giant before he smirked at the ground.
“What are you doing? Stop that!” 
“Would you just shut your mouth?” The first leaned down to pick up a large rock and tossed it in his hand. Your other brothers chuckled darkly while you shook your head. 
“No… this wasn’t what we said we’d do! It was just to look!” 
“He can’t do anything to us. Look at him. He’s wasted away. Just watch,” the first says as he pulls his arm back before launching the rock at the giant. It hits him square in the back of his head and echoes as it patters to the ground. 
All is silent as you and your brothers stare. Yet, still, the giant does not move. 
“What a waste! He’s a dumb ogre! Can’t even look at us properly,” the second sighs. 
“Why would you do that?!” You shout at your brother. “Why would you throw that?” 
“You challenged us to see if we were scared. I think that beast is scared of us! He doesn’t even move!” 
Your brothers roared in laughter while you heard the rattling of the chains. Your eyes widened in horror as you noticed the man’s arms were beginning to move slowly. 
“G-guys. Let go. We need to go,” you beg. “Let me go.” 
You try and remove yourself from your brother’s grasp while they all laugh harder. 
“What? Scared? You’re even stupider than him!” They tease you. The third shoves your face harder into the bars. 
“Oh go on, you’re both stupid cowards! Go on! Why don’t you give him a little kiss? He might like that!” 
You struggle against your brother as you hear the chains clink. Your brothers laughter echoes in the dungeon until the third screams loudly in pain. 
You hardly have time to notice what is going on as you’re flipped around and see the third is on the floor, gripping his bleeding hand in pain while your other brothers are wide-eyed and trembling. Your back is now against the bars and you feel a cold metal against your throat. 
You’re shaking, afraid for your life as you glance down to see a gold hook pressed against your skin. 
Your other two brothers quickly unsheathe their swords and point it to the assailant, but their fear is evident by the way they can’t even hold their weapons properly. 
“The g-giant…” the first whispers, quaking in his boots. You know it’s a bad idea. Every part of you is screaming to not do so. Your mind races with warnings and against your better judgment… 
You lean back and try to glance up. You freeze as you look up to the giant’s sharp features. You can’t see much from this angle, but you can make out how tall he is. Your brothers’ descriptions of him didn’t do him justice, and you recognize how much more imposing his figure is. 
He presses his hook harder, pulling you further to him. He was careful not to use the pointed end of it to hurt you, but in your current state, you couldn’t care. 
A low grumble catches your attention as you realize it is the giant attempting to speak. 
“Do not touch them ever again,” his low voice threatens. Your brothers are even more shaken by the giant’s voice as they squeak and stumble backwards. 
“W-wait, don’t-” you cry, not wanting to be alone. Your brothers put away their weapons as they force themselves back up and run away, screaming bloody murder. Your heart sinks as you watch your brothers run off without you as their voices get quieter in this dark dungeon. The giant removes his hook from you, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground as you struggle to breathe. 
“Go,” is all he says, his shackles shaking as walks back to his corner. You don’t know what to think. 
“You’re not…?” You begin, unsure of what to say at all. Do you thank him? Apologize? Cry? Leave? You’re too stunned to know what to do next. 
“No. Just go. You shouldn’t be down here, anyways.” 
“Wait,” you call to him. “Why did you save me?” 
“Would you prefer I kill you?” He sharply replies. 
“No. I just… I didn’t expect that from you…” you mumble. He sighs. 
“You were foolish for coming down here. And you were even more foolish for allowing them to use you like bait.” 
“I didn’t think they would,” you admit pathetically. 
“Of course you didn’t. Life’s pretty easy up there, isn’t it, your highness?” He bitterly laughs. 
“Don’t patronize me. I just wanted to know why you would do such a thing.” 
“Telling you wouldn’t make a difference. Just let me rest and rot away the rest of my life in peace, would you?” 
You stop and nod, the adrenaline wearing off as you’re back to feeling the bitter cold on your skin. “Are you not freezing down here? You’re hardly wearing anything that could keep you warm.” 
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Prisoners aren’t afforded that luxury, your highness. We stay in the cold and in this silence to pay for our crimes.” 
The logic was understandable, but you felt a pang of guilt in your heart. 
“I haven’t thanked you for saving me and stopping my brothers, yet,” you start, fumbling through the ideas in your head. “Thank you. As a show of my appreciation, I’ll bring you something to keep you warm.” 
He stood still, as if considering your words. “You would do something like that for me?” 
“Yes. I will do so. I’ll bring it down for you as soon as I can,” you assure him, feeling resolute in your decision. Criminal he may be, but royalty you were. Even the worst subjects required kindness and repayment for their actions. 
He turned his body around, and you managed to see his face fully under the dim light of the lantern. His face was sharp, chiseled, and scarred. The scar ran across his face over his nose, and the stitches on it looked brutal. The dark circles and bags under his eyes were prominent, like the strands of hair that were falling and framing his face. It was clear he tried to slick it back, but given his situation, he couldn’t do much with it in this grimy cell. 
You gasped at his appearance, taken aback by how strangely beautiful you found him. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. 
“Don’t worry, I get that a lot,” he smoothly teased. “Do I look like the monster you thought I was?” 
“No,” you earnestly respond, surprising him, somewhat. 
“Oh? Why is that?” Unlike your brothers, who cowered away in fear, you looked directly into his dark eyes with a firm resolve. 
“You look just like a man…” you reply. His eyes flicker with light for a brief moment, before they return to the dull color they were a moment ago. 
“Monsters can look like men, your highness. You should know better than that.” 
“Yet you did not kill me when you had a chance. Would a monster spare me?” 
“I guess not,” Crocodile sighed. “Perhaps I’ve gotten soft while being locked away for so long.” 
“I can only hope. But I promise, I will bring you the gift soon.” 
“Hm, don’t take too long, your highness. It gets terribly cold down here,” he replied in a drab voice. He turned himself around and faced the stone walls. “I don’t have anything else to say to you tonight.” 
You were taken aback by his abrupt statement but chose not argue further. He had done you a massive favor, and you too would probably feel the same way if locked away here for so long. 
“Thank you again,” you said to him before you pulled yourself up and dusted the dirt off your nightclothes. You glanced back at him, but the man was back to staying silent and not moving. 
What a dreary life that must be…
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sluttywonwoo · 1 year
Note
Imagine Felix just guiding and talking you through your first time with him
Stuck in my head all week man, i'm begging you to write about it
okay this was supposed to be more dommy i swear but it turned out really soft ;-; sorry lol
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word count: 1.3k
warnings: smut (18+), protected sex, crying
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“that’s it, baby, just like that,” felix mumbles into your neck, pushing his hips forward bit by bit until his body is flush with yours. he stills once he’s bottomed out inside of you and presses a kiss to your temple.
he hopes you can’t feel how he’s trembling as he holds himself above you, hopes that if you can, you won’t attribute it to him being weak—because it’s not that.
he already embarrassed himself when he tried rolling the condom on and the elastic snapped him in the thigh, leaving a noticeable red mark behind. the last thing he needs is for you to think that he can’t even keep himself in position long enough to fuck you.
it’s just… he didn’t expect you to feel this good with the condom on and he’s losing all semblance of control. it’s your first time, so he’s trying to take it slow, but you’re just so goddamn warm and tight and perfect that he can’t seem to think straight.
“you okay?” he manages to ask, needing to make sure you’re not in any pain.
“great,” you hum and smile fondly up at him.
“it doesn’t hurt?”
“no, you made me cum earlier, remember?”
as if he could forget. the sounds you made as you fell apart underneath him were now forever imprinted in his brain. it would have been enough to make him cum untouched if he wasn’t focusing on not doing exactly that.
“yeah, but a couple of fingers isn’t as big as… you know.” he cuts himself off. he doesn’t want to imply that he’s big, doesn’t want you to think that he’s complimenting himself when all he’s trying to say is that there’s a distinct difference between the two.
“you’re sweet,” you say, squeezing his bicep with one of your hands. “and you can move now, by the way.”
“sure?”
“mhm.”
felix gathers up his strength and draws his hips back just slightly, wanting to start with shallow thrusts before jumping right in to deep strokes. you whine, eyebrows pinching together, but urge him to keep going.
“how’s that feel?”
“s-sooo good,” you sigh, hiking your knees up to your chest so that he can drive his cock even deeper.
felix can’t help but chuckle, stroking your cheek fondly.
“look so pretty, angel,” he compliments. “‘m gonna get such a big ego if you keep moaning like that, though.”
“you… deserve… it.”
felix seriously doubts that, but you don’t know any different, any better, so he doesn’t let himself get too carried away.
“cross your ankles behind my back if you’re able to,” he instructs, “that way you won’t strain yourself holding your legs up on your own.”
“like this?”
felix groans as you do what he suggested, feeling your walls squeeze even tighter around him. your thighs are hugging him like this too, soft yet strong. he feels completely surrounded by you, by your body, your scent. it’s all too much and not enough at the same time. he wants to fuck you properly— slam into you over and over until you can’t even remember what day it is. he wants to show you what he’s actually capable of, prove to you that he can show you a good time. ruin you for everyone else but him… but he’s almost already cum like. three times now. so that’s off the table, at least for today.
instead, felix focuses on what he’s doing now, which is thrusting into you at a moderate pace, and talking you through it.
“yep, perfect,” he chokes out.
he fucks you in that position for a while, basking in the pleasant sounds of you panting beneath him. you seem to like it, if your whimpers of his name are anything to go by.
he can tell when you start to feel sore, though. your frown of pleasure begins to turn into one of discomfort but you’re trying not to let it show. but felix has been dating you long enough to read you like an open book so he stops what he’s doing and checks in again.
“does it hurt, baby?”
you start to shake your head. “na- a little.”
“let’s stop here for today then.”
he goes to pull out but you stop him, keeping your ankles locked behind his frame.
“i want you to cum though!” you protest.
“tonight’s not about me, silly, remember?”
“but i got to cum it’s not fair!”
“again, it doesn’t really work like that. sex isn’t a transaction. you don’t have to ‘pay me back’ for making you finish.”
you pout silently and begin to blink rapidly. it takes felix a second to realize you’re trying not to cry.
oh, he’s really done it now.
frantically, your boyfriend cups your face with his free hand and pleads for you to look at him.
“baby? what is it? what’s wrong— what did i do?”
you sniffle. “nothing, it’s… it’s stupid.”
“no, it’s not, i promise. nothing you could be thinking right now is stupid. it’s okay to feel overwhelmed or upset or whatever it is you’re feeling… it’s your first time after all, and i’m sorry i couldn’t make it perfect—”
“that’s exactly it, lix!” you lament, wiping your tears with your free hand. “it’s my first time and, and i couldn’t even make you cum. everyone says it’s supposed to be a lot easier for boys to cum but we’ve been going at it for so long now and you’re not even close.”
felix genuinely has to keep his jaw from dropping in shock because that is not the reaction you need right now. he wants to tell you how wrong you are but you’re still talking and he doesn’t want to interrupt and risk making you even more upset so he keeps his mouth shut.
you pause, hiccuping and desperately trying to catch your breath. “i guess, i don’t know i feel like my vagina must be broken or something. is it not good? is there something i could be doing better? you can be honest.”
“baby, no! it’s not you at all! your v- you’re perfect! to be honest, i’ve been fighting an orgasm this entire time. i didn’t want to cum too soon and ruin it for you, that’s the only reason i haven’t. i promise.”
“pinky promise?” you hold your pinky out for felix to loop his own around, which he does, sealing the promise with a kiss to your knuckle.
“pinky promise.”
“so do you want to?” you ask.
“do i want to what?”
“cum, do you want to cum?”
“no, babe, you’re sore already i don’t want to hurt you.”
“but i want you to!”
felix sighs. “baby…”
“what if you cum in my mouth?”
“what?”
you prop yourself up on your elbows and raise an eyebrow.
“let me suck you off?”
“are you sure?”
“yeah, i’ve been practicing!”
you’ve been what now? this is news to felix, and the very idea of you on your knees, training yourself to take him down your throat is enough to make him feel like he’s cumming.
he is, he realizes, when he feels his cock twitching inside of you, feels his cum fill the condom.
“fu-uck, i’m s-sorry, baby…” he gasps out, doubling over back on top of you, feeling like he’s just been punched in the stomach. “i didn’t… should’ve warned you.”
when felix opens his eyes again, you’re beaming.
“this is the best possible outcome,” you tell him as he rolls off of you.
“huh?” he asks, blinking hazily at you.
“you came and i didn’t even do anything!”
“oh, yeah… see, i told you! you drive me crazy.”
you pat him on the shoulder like you’d just played a friendly game of kickball and grin.
“feeling’s mutual.”
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corrodedhawkins · 1 year
Text
Withdrawal: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Follow up to Prozac
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Content warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), language, oral (f!receiving), fingering, crying (non-sexual this time), Eddie being a very supportive but also very horny boyfriend, multiple orgasms and praise.
This fic deals with mental health, mental health medication, withdrawing from medication, the possible side effects of these medications, including sexual dysfunction and the shame that can come with them. Please skip this if any of these things are triggering for you.
Authors note: this is inspired by me finally getting off of my SSRI and being able to feel my clit for the first time in five years. We’re celebrating
After years of being on an SSRI and attending weekly sessions, your therapist thought you had made enough progress to taper you off of your Prozac and onto an NDRI with less side effects. They had warned you the withdrawal process would be difficult, but nothing could have prepared you for what hell the next few weeks would be.
Your emotions were all over the place, and you found yourself screaming one minute then bursting into tears the next. The brain zaps were horrible, jolts of electricity shocking you so suddenly you nearly doubled over every time.
Eddie, bless him, had been a saint through the whole process. He let you scream and cry, and when you were done, he’d scoop you up into his lap and you’d fall asleep against his chest, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster.
He would stop at the store on the way home to grab your favorite ice cream, candy bar, or anything else he thought could make you smile. You had to admit, it was hard to be upset when Eddie was shoving a bag full of chocolate, bubble bath, candles and a book into your arms as he ushered you into the bathroom.
Three weeks into withdrawal you finally start to feel better, your emotions much more stable with only the occasional brain zap. As supportive as Eddie had been, he missed being intimate with you. The second he was sure you were feeling better, he practically shoved you down onto the mattress. He crawls between your legs, whispering a, “missed you”, to your pussy before diving in.
Your snort of amusement turns into a cry of pleasure as you feel Eddie’s tongue lap at your clit.
“Holy fuck”, you stare down at him, propping yourself up onto your elbows. “Wha-what are you doing?”, you gape.
Eddie lifts his head from between your thighs, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “Eating your pussy?”, he answers slowly, tone questioning.
“No shit”, you slap at his shoulder weakly. “I mean, what are you doing differently? Feels really good.”
He ducks back down to mouth at your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth as his tongue swirls around it. You feel him smirk against you when your hips jolt, hand flying to bury your fingers into his hair.
“You mean this?”, he asks before diving back in and sucking harshly at your clit. His big hands grab your hips to keep you still, pinning you to the mattress.
“Hah-yes. D-don’t know where you learned that but it’s good.”
As much as he loves seeing you enjoy yourself, his confusions wins out. “Baby”, he murmurs as he kisses your inner thighs, his day-old stubble scraping against the sensitive skin. “M’not doing anything differently. This is what I always do. Want me to keep going?”
“Please”, you breathe.
You feel him nod against you as he peppers kisses from your inner thighs to your slit, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit.
“Ohmyfuckinggod”, you yelp, throwing your legs over his shoulders for leverage. You buck up as much as you can in his hold, grinding Eddie’s nose into your clit as he laps up the slick dripping from your hole to the sheets below.
“Can I have your fingers? Please?”, you whine pathetically as Eddie reaches up to shove two fingers into your mouth. You immediately suck on them, getting them nice and wet.
With one last swirl of his tongue against you, he pulls his fingers from your mouth and taps them against your hole. “This what you want?”
“Yes”, you cry, a little louder than you meant to.
Eddie chuckles, placing a kiss to the inside of your knee. “S’okay, I got you.”
His fingers inside of you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. They drag against your g-spot, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, your thoughts a mess of “whatthefuckwhatthefuck”.
The usually elusive orgasm builds quickly, one hand tangled in his curls as the other grips the sheets below. “Please don’t stop”, you beg.
“Not stopping”, he promises, thumb reaching up to swirl circles around your clit as he speaks. “I can feel how close you are, sweetheart. You gonna cum for me?”
All you can do is nod frantically, hand tightening against his scalp.
His mouth replaces his thumb on your clit, keeping the hard but steady pace of his fingers curling up against your g-spot.
It only takes seconds before you’re crying out, muscles seizing before you’re shaking apart as you cum against his tongue.
Sagging back against the pillows, you ride out your orgasm until you’re overstimulated, shoving his head away as you catch your breath.
“Good?”, Eddie smirks, biting playfully at your thigh.
You stare at him for a moment before it hits you. “No way, no fucking way.” Your hands come up to cover your face, the realization making your stomach flip.
“What? What is it?”, Eddie’s on you in an instant, pulling your hands away from your face to get a good look at you. “Baby, talk to me.” His eyes flick over your features, desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong.
The tears you’ve been holding back fall as the care in his tone hits you. “That’s what I’ve been missing?”, you practically wail.
Eddie reaches up to wipe the tears from your face, a look of genuine bafflement etching features. “Huh?”
With a huff, you sit up and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I just came in less than two minutes, Eddie. Two minutes.” Two fingers are thrust against his chest to emphasize your point. “And I felt everything. Nothing felt numb or dull. It’s like my clit just woke up from a thousand year slumber.”
He snorts at that, biting his lip when you shoot him a glare. “Isn’t…isn’t that a good thing?”, he asks timidly.
“Of course it is”, you try to take a deep breath and fail, the tears coming back before you can stop them. “It’s great, but now all I can think about is how I‘be been cheated out of that with you because of my meds”, you sniffle. “I’d been on it so long I didn’t even remember I could feel like that.”
“Baby”, Eddie sighs, his heart breaking for you as he wraps you in his arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “M’so sorry you spent so long like that. Please don’t cry.”
“Can’t help it”, you mumble, burying your face back against his shoulder.
His hand rubs over your back soothingly, waiting for you to to settle before he speaks. “Y’know, I think you’re looking at this entirely the wrong way.” Eddie pulls back and tilts your chin up to look at him.
“Hear me out”, he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear and leans in close. “If the way you were flailing around like you were possessed is any indication, I think it was pretty good for you?”
“You’re exaggerating”, you turn your attention to his hands, fiddling with the ring on his middle finger, twisting it back and forth.
“Mhm no baby, I’m not. I almost called a priest. Got a little worried we needed an exorcism.” He presses a quick kiss to your temple as you giggle, relieved he can make you feel a little better.
“And if it felt that good”, he continues, voice dropping a few octaves. He knows what that tone does to you, the bastard. “And you came that quickly, imagine how good it would feel if I laid you out and took my time with you, pulled out every trick I know. Imagine how many times I could make you cum.”
You can hear the smirk in his tone as his hand snakes down your body, thumb swirling deliciously slowly around your clit.
A shaky breath rushes out of you, the feeling of your clit starting to throb again startling you. If you were lucky, you came once, unable to even think about a second orgasm. Apparently, things had changed.
Eddie nuzzles into your neck, sucking kisses to the exposed skin, his thumb picking up speed. “Think you can go again?”
He chuckles against your skin when you immediately nod. “Are you gonna be a good girl and let me do whatever I want with you?”
You made a mental note to send your therapist a fruit basket as you came for the third time that night.
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matts-k1tten · 19 days
Text
𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 Pt.2
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Pt.1
summary: Matt takes pictures for the year book at Berlin High and y/n always admired him. What she doesn’t know is Matt does not like her one bit. But what happens when she suddenly stops giving him the usual attention?
warnings: foul language, smuttttt ofcc, angst, that’s it I think lemme know if I missed any.
———————————
Here I am rotting in bed, staring at my ceiling still comprehending what went down this afternoon.
It was all going good the night before, what went wrong?
I roll over to my side and check the time.
“10:23”
I need to get some sleep.
I couldn’t cry, I can’t cry, I won’t cry.
Inevitably, I let one tear drop, then two, then three, then a whole river.
I try to sleep with a drenched pillow and a tear stained face.
Can this day get any worse?
My phone dings with a text from Matt.
“You still want me to pay you back?”
I ignore it.
My feelings for Matt doesn’t overpower this heavy feeling in my chest. It’s deep and painful, I don’t want to feel like I’m being dragged on by him.
Another text, then another, then another.
I put my phone on do not disturb and sob into my pillow.
I just want to sleep.
-
The sound of my alarm wakes me up. My eyes fly open and I immediately get hit with a whiff of delight.
I smell someone cooking breakfast downstairs.
I get up and get dressed. I brush my teeth and do everything I need to do and head downstairs.
I see my mother cooking breakfast.
“Morning honey! I made us breakfast cause I thought that I would do something nice for you.” My mother gives a faint smile but I can see her holding in tears. Like she was hiding something from me.
“Your father isn’t here right now, I don’t know where he is. He left fairly early saying….” She pauses. “Saying he needed time to think.” She finishes.
I nod and sit at the island.
She gives me my plate and I start eating.
“Do you have work today?” I ask chewing on eggs. “No, not today I wanted to take the day off and spend this day by myself and maybe when you get home we can do something?” She utters.
I smile at her.
“Yea, of course.” I smile and put a piece of bacon in my mouth.
She smiles and lets go of a breath turning back around to the stove.
“What are you thinking of doing today?” I query.
“Thinking of shopping, getting something to eat, you know the usual.” She speaks her back still faced to me.
“Oh alright.” I reply and look at the time.
“6:53”.
“Oh shit! I’m gonna be late, bye mom love you!” I scream from the door.
“Bye sweetie love you!” She smiles at me as I slam the door.
I quickly hop in my car and drive off.
Let’s just hope that I don’t run into any distractions.
I’m not in the mood for that today.
-
ᵐᵃᵗᵗˢ ᵖᵒᵛ
I hop out my car and start making my way to the entrance with my brothers on each side of me.
Some girls call to Chris and I saying things like “Hey handsome” or “Call me”.
I can’t with these high school girls.
We all make it inside and we part ways, I go to my locker, Nick to a teacher to talk about his assignment, and Chris to his friends.
I walk over to my locker and make sure that I have everything.
My books, pencils, and camera.
I need my camera for after school tomorrow. I have to take pictures for the girls soccer team.
Which means that y/n would be there since she does soccer.
How much I dread seeing her.
Speak of the devil, She walks right through the entrance with her soccer shoes in one hand and phone in the other.
She looks up at me for a split second and walks over to her locker.
She didn’t even smile at me or anything.
Just a cold stare.
She stands next to me as she puts everything she doesn’t need away.
I stare down at her waiting for her to acknowledge me. She finally looks up at me in what felt like ages.
“What?!” She snaps.
Her tone takes me by surprise as she never talks to me of all people like that. She always talks like an angel and has the most positive energy, today she’s different.
Something definitely happened.
“You didn’t answer my texts last night.” I speak and lean on the lockers.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah because I fell asleep.” She utters and slams her locker.
“I thought you wanted me to pay you back?” I say in a flirty tone grabbing her hand.
She scoffs.
“Like I said I fell asleep!” She says and pulls herself away and stomps to her class.
That was.. different.
-
ʸ/ⁿ ᵖᵒᵛ
I angrily slam my books down and plop down in my chair taking a harsh breath out.
We’re in English right now and Matt isn’t in this class, thank god.
There isn’t much students in the class as the bell hasn’t rang yet. Just The teacher and I with about 3 or 4 students in here.
Just then, Angela strolls on in with the biggest smile on her face.
She walks down the aisle to me and plops down.
“So, Chris and my date was Perfect! Towards the end of it, he asked me to be his girlfriend!” She says as she grabs my hand.
I put on my best biggest fake smile.
“That’s amazing Angela!” I say.
“Any luck with Matt?” Angela asks. I let go of her hands.
“No, let’s not talk about boys right now.” I say turning away from her.
She notices something up with me.
“Hey, is something wrong? You’ve been acting different lately.” She states. I sigh harshly. I still haven’t told her about my parents.
I take in a deep breath before speaking.
“My parents got a divorce.” I say quickly and quiet.
Her face turns into a concerned expression.
“Oh poor baby, I’m so sorry.” She says and pulls me into a hug.
I let a tear fall as she hugs me, which soon turns into sobs.
“Hey let’s step out for a moment, yeah?” She says and pulls me out the class.
We grab our stuff and excuse ourselves and the teacher allows us to take our time. As we’re walking out the class, I make eye contact with Matt. His face turns into a slight worried expression seeing my tear stained face.
He starts to walk over but I usher Angela
outside to my car.
We start to walk quickly, Angela not noticing Matt coming after us yet. “Why are we walking so fast?” Angela asks. Just then there’s a hand on my shoulder.
Angela and I both turn to see who it was that stopped me. We both turn to see Matt standing there with a worried face.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” He asks frantic.
“Nothing, now go away.” I say sternly and pull Angela towards my car.
I hear Matt yelling after us but I just ignore him and continue to walk to my car.
Angela and I decide to take the rest of the day off.
“Let’s go to Starbucks, that’ll make you feel better.” Angela suggests. I look at her and just nod smiling faintly.
She smiles and starts to drive.
It falls silent for a moment before Angela speaks up. “Hey, I didn’t want to ask but what was that thing with Matt? I thought you two were doing good?” She asks keeping her eyes on the road.
I stay quiet for a second.
“It’s-it’s nothing, he’s just been getting on my nerves lately.” I reply looking down at my fidgeting hands.
She shakes her head and hums. “Yeah, I get that. Chris was always like that even before we started dating, now it’s even worse since he’s extra clingy.”
I laugh a bit and look out the window to see that Angela was pulling into the starbucks drive through since it wasn’t so far from our school.
“What do you want?” Angela asks. “My usual.” I smile.
She smiles and orders for the both of us.
Before I know it we park somewhere and are laughing while hitting each other.
Angela and I both take deep breaths in and calm down.
“Tell me, what’s really going on with you and Matt?” Angela suddenly asks out of the blue.
It catches me by surprise, so much that i choked on my food.
“I told you, it’s nothing.” I repeat. She gives me a funny look and keeps on pushing me. “C’mon I know something’s wrong just tell me, I’m your best friend!” She pleads.
I groan loudly and hold up my hand to her face to shut her up.
“Fine!” I scream in her face as she turns her whole body towards me with a huge grin on her face like a little kid listening to a story.
“So, in math during that test he asked me to help and he said he’d pay me back, y’know what he meant. That was the night when I found out my parents got a divorce and I ghosted everyone including him, he came up to me in the hallways and I was different towards him.” I rant out.
I look over at Angela who doesn’t even seem to be shocked.
“Woah.” Is all she says and takes a bite out her cookie. “Why didn’t you fuck him?” She screams and leans over the console.
“What?!” I scream in her face. “C’mon! His dick HAS to be big! Chris’s dick was huge.” She says, saying the last part under her breath I could barely hear.
“ANGELA!” I shout and she just laughs and I can’t help but laugh.
“No but seriously, you and Chris fucked? I thought you just went on a date?” I ask as I breathe to calm down. “Well yeah, he brought me back to his place and it got personal and then well.. y’know.” She smiles widely.
I laugh. “Did no one hear you guys?”
“His parents weren’t home. Only him and his brothers but I think Nick heard us because when we were leaving Nick was in the living room looking at us with a death stare so yeah.” She giggles at the end.
I burst out laughing and so does she.
“No but seriously, you have to talk to Matt. You left him wondering what the hell is wrong with you?” She suddenly gets serious.
“I’ll talk to him just don’t worry about him right now, it’s our time right now.”
-
Angela pulls in my driveway and quickly says bye driving away. My mom texted me saying she was going to be out all night so I’d have to be home alone.
I unlock the door with my key and quickly kick off my shoes and run up to my room. I open my door and turn on my lights suddenly seeing a figure standing before me.
I almost scream when I realize it’s Matt.
I sigh softly and step in my room shutting my door behind me and placing down my bags. “What are you doing here, Matt?” I ask and take off my sweater turning to put it back in my closet.
“I wanted to see you, something’s wrong with you. You don’t have to tell me I just wanted to see if you’re ok.” Matt says walking around my room examining my posters and collectibles.
“How did you even get in here?” I ask sitting down on my bed looking up at him. He points to the now open window.
“Right.” I whisper.
“Well I’m fine, can you go now? I’m tired.” I utter. “How? It’s only like 6 o’clock?” Matt says plopping down next to me.
My feelings for Matt would never change, which is why I’m feeling so many things right now.
“Well it’s 7:30 actually thank you.” I correct him.
I stay quiet as he stares at me.
“Y’know I never payed you back right?” Matt whispers.
“What?” I whisper turning my head towards him. I didn’t get to say more before he was smashing his lips into mine. I barely get to comprehend what he’s doing before I shut my eyes and kiss him back.
Matt pushes me down on the bed and crawls over me never breaking the kiss.
He continues to kiss me, the kiss growing more hungry and full of desire the more aggressive he gets.
He suddenly flips us over me now straddling his lap making me gasp.
He slips his tongue in my mouth and uses it to explore my mouth.
I can’t help but to let out soft moans into the kiss as he grips my waist moving my hips back and forth making me grind down on him.
This only makes my noises grow louder by the second, he seems to enjoy it by the way he keeps on grunting into the kiss.
The room is filled with the lewd sounds of our saliva and our grunts and moans.
We both pull away to catch our breaths and put our foreheads against one another. We’re both breathing heavy as I look down at his lips which are now swollen and red due to the previous moments.
He kisses me again seeming to not get enough but this time the kiss was more aggressive and hungry.
I could feel him growing from under me as his hands grasp everywhere around my body.
Matt pulls away to take off my top as he takes off his shirt.
He kisses me again while his hands go around my back to unclasp my bra, He throws my bra to the floor with the rest of our clothes.
I can tell he’s starting to get impatient so I quickly lift myself up to remove our pants.
He yanks down my sweatpants as he goes to lick my breasts. I can’t help the noises that come out my mouth as he lifts me up to yank down his pants his boxers going with it.
Oh shit, Angela was right. It’s huge.
My mouth falls open as I stare at it. “You like what you see?” Matt asks teasingly. I can’t say anything as I just nod.
He rips off my last layer of clothing and starts to examine me drooling. “Wipe that drool off your face.” I giggle feeling his heart rate pick up.
“Do I make you nervous?” I ask while running my hands up and down his chest.
He shakes his head as his hands grips my hips lifting me at the tip.
“Just tell me when to stop okay?” He says as I nod.
“You ready?” He asks. I nod again.
I slowly start to sink down on him taking every inch slowly. I bite down on my bottom lip to muffle any sound that threatens to come out.
Once every inch is inside me, he pauses letting me adjust. I whimper loudly and grip his muscles so firm with my nails that it’ll surely leave a scar.
Matt starts to move my hips up and down slowly. I hiss in pain as I continue to move slowly. My grip on his muscle slowly starts to increase the longer he moves me.
The burning sensation soon turned into pleasure as he starts to move me faster.
Matt throws his head back as I start to take control, bouncing uncontrollably. All you could hear is our skin slapping and the noises coming my from us.
Thank god no one was home.
Matt grips my hips harder with each passing second for sure leaving marks on my skin.
Matt’s so deep that he’s finding places that I didn’t even know existed.
Matt suddenly starts to thrust up into me taking me by surprise.
I grow louder and louder the more he pounds into me from underneath me.
He hits a spot deep inside me that makes me go wild. I can’t control the noises that come out my mouth as I feel a knot building up in my stomach.
I see dots of white as Matt speaks up.
“Is this what you wanted?” Matt grunts and goes impossibly faster. I can’t form any words as I just stare into his eyes with my jaw slightly opened.
Matt chuckles and buries his face in my neck and starts to suck and nibble.
Matt hits that spot repeatedly again, again, and again.
I’m moaning uncontrollably as Matt goes crazy and moves his hands all around my body.
Matt grunts as my hips snap back and forth from his pelvis.
The knot suddenly snaps and I’m releasing all over him. Matt’s thrusts grow sloppier and grips me harder until it hurts adding to the pleasure.
My moans echo all throughout the house as Matt finishes in me with a long whimper.
I lay my head on his shoulder as we both breathe heavily.
We stay like that for a while before he lifts me off him.
“You good?” He asks looking at my fucked out impression.
I just nod and struggle to stand up. Our mixed liquids running down my legs.
He grabs me and places me on the bed and grabs my towel to clean me up. He cleans the mess we made and helps me sit up.
I grab some shorts and a baggy t-shirt and pull it on as he gets dressed.
I lay in bed ready to knock out as Matt goes to climb out my window.
“Matt?” I mumble already drifting starting to sleep.
He pauses.
“Yeah?” He answers.
“Can you stay?”
“What?”
“Can you stay?”
Matt hesitates for a moment then closes the window without another word and climbs into bed with me.
He lies down next to me as I snuggle into his chest. He wraps his arms around me and cuddles me till I fall asleep.
“I love you Matt.” I mumble so quiet you could barely hear.
“W-what? You love me?” Matt asks.
I don’t answer already fast asleep as he holds me close.
Matt’s left with a stunned expression as he rethinks what I had just said to him.
Matt soon falls asleep with me in his arms laying his head on mine.
————————
a/n: the long awaited pt.2!! guys I was laughing so hard while writing this it’s not even funny💀💀 no cliffhanger this time bc ik yall would hate me for that 😝😝 but lemme know what yall think!!
taglist: @mattybswife @sillyfreakfanparty @stasiesturn @braindead4l @sturniololol @idkwhatthisevenislol @blushbunii @cindylcuwho @jennss23 @tyslover @st7rnioioss @ilovechrissturniolo1
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rwrbficrecs · 5 months
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Here's our October recs ❤️ also, look at our new banner !! 🥰 Happy reading !! I’m just too soft for all of it by @bellamysgriffinprincess (book/movie-verse)
@dot524: This is a sweet one shot where Henry is struggling with depression, Alex drops everything to be with him, and they comfort each other. Very well done.
Confidential Memorandum by @sherryvalli (book-verse)
@wilmonsfolklore: this is such a sweet kidfic. Henry is Alex's boss, and Alex keeps getting calls from Henry's daughter when Henry is busy. It's heartwarming and comforting and the dialogue is wonderfully written, especially their love confessions.
@babiemonk: the perfect lighthearted kidfic! The child dynamic is perfect and the humor is spot-on. If you’re looking for a fun, feel good, story with some domestic fluffiness this is it.
@rmd-writes: a sweet, funny fic with excellent banter, and a stellar supporting cast of OCs. It quite literally made my face do this: 🥰 I saved it with the note "read when you need to feel better about the universe).
Aged Like a Fine Wine by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)
@babiemonk: Alex and Henry are older now and cakegate never happened. There’s lots of emotions and angst and growth and it’s really quite beautiful but also tragic at times. It hurt my heart and my feelings before putting them back together again.
In my dreams (In your dreams) by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)
@babiemonk: very cute drunken love confessions— absolutely precious friends to lovers
all of our love filling all of our room by @kill8a (book-verse)
@inexplicablymine: this is so incredibly soft and childhood friends to lovers I have reread this more times than I’m willing to admit
Help Me Hold On To You by @affectionatelyrs (book-verse)
@read-and-write-: A one- shot, a very cathartic one about the aftermath of a fight between Alex and Henry. This is one to cry from beginning to end, it's beautifully written and you will be left speechless.
flatline by rizcriz (book-verse)
@wilmonsfolklore: exes to lovers is one of my favourite tropes and this work shows perfectly how naturally and fully Henry and Alex love each other. it's sad and heartbreaking but it has a happy ending that makes the crying all worth it.
What I Need Tonight by @sparklepocalypse (book-verse)
@zwiazdziarka: This fic was written for Kinktober's prompt "selfcest", which for some might be sound a little too weird, but that's exactly why I picked this one as my monthly fave. If you like reading smut, give this a chance. Yes, it's hot but also emotional and it has Oxford-time slutty Henry!
heartbeats under coats by @hypnostheory (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: one of my favorite works to come out of FirstPrince week. It's really sweet and sexy. There was only one bed at its finest.
All Booked Up by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: another FirstPrince week gem. This was just so beautiful. Alex and Henry meet during a vacation, spend three perfect days together and then loose contact until June and Nora force Alex to read a book they both love and something about it makes Alex think of Henry. I absolutely fell in love with it.
@rmd-writes: it's no secret that I'm an allmylovesatonce fan and this is one of my ultimate favourites of hers. A very cleverly told love story, with some wonderful June and Nora content as a bonus!
praying our bridges don’t make waves by @anincompletelist (book-verse)
@rhubarb1210: This fic is such a cool take on soulmates. Henry agrees to pretend to be Alex’s soulmate to get June health insurance. Lots of universe building. And I can’t give away more! Inspired by Fractured by @clottedcreamfudge
everything's growing in our garden by matherine (book-verse with a few movie elements)
@indomitable-love: Absolutely loved this hanahaki fic – the pacing and tension are so good, the relevance of all the different flowers is just beautiful
It's Nice to Have a Friend by @mainstreamelectricalparade (book-verse)
@read-and-write-: Childhood Best Friends to lovers AU, where Henry, the prince of england meets another boy during a holiday, they send each other letters and they fall in love, it's soft and it's beautiful, a love that tascends the page and is reflected on all the characters actions.
I feel the beating of your heart, I see the shadows on your face by @anincompletelist (book-verse)
@daisymae-12: This fic has such an interesting premise, and although I’ve never been into the bodyswap trope I’m so glad I gave this one a chance. It was done so incredibly well and was such a fun, wholesome fic.
Henry Fox, All-American Hero by @tintagel-or-cockleshells (book-verse)
@daisymae-12: This is a fic inspired by Meg Cabot’s All American Girl (which I am a huge fan of) and everything about this fic had me screaming in delight. Loved this so much, I’m obsessed.
maybe take me into your room by @smc-27 (book-verse)
@thesleepyskipper: Alex and Henry are both the children of ambassadors to Canada from their respective countries in this lovely AU. Friends-to-lovers perfection, this was so, so good.
a degree of fate by @softlofty (book/movie-verse)
@dot524: In this AU, Alex and Henry meet as university students. This is a sweet get-together fic with depth and heart.
It's Tradition by @f-ing-ruthless-baz (book-verse)
@zwiazdziarka: Alex and Henry's soulmate bond revealed itself publicly and now they have to act like they're in love, even though they hate each other. This fic is such an excellent use of soulmate trope and looks into so many possiblities in a world were soulmate bonds exsist. It's also super funny, a little angsty and Alex is even more oblivious than usually.
I’d be smart to walk away (but you’re quicksand) by @littlemisskittentoes (book/movie-verse)
@dot524: Such a wonderful, heartfelt 5+1 based on canon events when Henry walked away and one where he stayed.
Catalyst of Change by @uglygreenjacket (book-verse)
@myheartalivewrites: an AU that’s pretty close to canon in some ways: Alex (still a well known child of politicians) and Henry (still a prince) meet as students in Edinburgh. This story is sweet and gentle and heart wrenching at points, but also incredibly uplifting in Henry and Alex’s determination to be together no matter the obstacles. And the Scottish setting is gorgeous and really evocative.
Ghosted by @tintagel-or-cockleshells (book-verse)
@suseagull04: Twists and turns abound in this story that borders the line between life and death. I love the depth of the plot and just how deeply and quickly Alex and Henry fall for each other- and the fantasy aspect immediately put this high on my list of faves! Not to mention all the great references to my favorite things throughout the fic. This fic is amazing!
Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: a 911 Lone Star!AU very angsty but with a happy ending. Alex going through grief felt really fucking relatable. It's also spicy in contrast with the angst.
But I love him, whether or no. by @leaves-of-laurelin (book-verse)
@dot524: This firefighter AU is one of my favorite RWRB fics ever, and I’m glad I was able to follow it from WIP status to complete this month. Alex as a firefighter is irresistible (Henry thinks so too) and somehow these two feel so true to character even in a completely different context. There are so many fun scenes here - riding a bull, an airport scene, shenanigans at a fire station, sentimental piano playing - but none of them are forced. Truly a wonderful fic that I know I’ll be returning to again and again.
@wilmonsfolklore: seconding this one so so so much!! read it in one sitting and have been thinking about it ever since then. there are so many heartfelt and sweet conversations in it. everyone's so true to their character in such a different situation. can not recommend it enough
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arabellasleopardcoat · 8 months
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Three-headed dragon (Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader)
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Summary: Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.
Warnings: Implied smut. Dance of the dragons. Canon character death (Not Rhaenyra)
Rquested: Yes!
A/N: I have not read the books, and I have only gotten one hickey in my life. I hope my ability to describe it's alright. Ignore the bra and the hegemonic body in the first picture, it's for the vibes.
“How many years have you spent by my side?” Rhaenyra asks, as you fix her hair in the mirror. It’s an important day, even if none of you know it at the time. It’s early. Her husband is off somewhere, no longer sleeping in the same bed as her. She is too pregnant, she jokes. You doubt it. You have long wondered what her relationship with Prince Daemon is. Are they star crossed lovers, who finally get their happy ending? Are they Uncle and Niece, married out of political convenience? You can’t tell.
You know which one you prefer, though. It must be kept secret, this deep-seated, long-lasting admiration for your Princess. You have been through it all, together. Youth, marriages, motherhood, widowhood. Ruining it now, with your feelings, would be foolish.
“Since we were sixteen.” You place different ribbons over her hair, testing, draping. It’s not your job, technically. You are a noblewoman in your own right, not supposed to be here on Dragonstone, but back in the North, where your long deceased husband’s bones rest.
Not meant for marriage, and ready to start your career as a Septa, you had found yourself as a companion to a much younger Rhaenyra. She had secured, in an admirable move, a marriage by proxy with some old lord. You had not even managed to reach the North when he had passed, leaving you as the sole heir to a small castle close to the Boltons.
With such undesirable neighbors, and the news that your Lord Husband was dead, you had decided to come back into Rhaenyra’s service. Her companion through childhood, now by her side during the trials of adulthood.
“Sixteen. Such a long time.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Served loyally and never asking for anything in return.”
“Only your friendship.” Your love, you wanted to scream. Your love, for you to see me, since I am still here and I want you. Don’t you see how much it has hurt me, when I am yours, yours, and you were Criston’s, then- -
But you say nothing of the sort. Not wanting to ever risk what you had. Love is selfless, you remind yourself. You can’t have her, nor can you own her. Rhaenyra is the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon’s Crown. You cannot hope to own her or rule her. The Iron Throne, as everyone knows, was not made for a woman.
“You are not my friend,” Rhaenyra says, and the shock must show on your face because she laughs. Silver bells filling the room, the laughter of a golden Princess. “You are family, by this point. Haven’t you cared for the boys as if they were yours?”
And it’s true. You have loved those children because they are half her. You have been the preferred aunt, the accomplice, and the one to teach them things as important as the proper way to hold a quill. As the saying goes, it takes a village. The children are your combined efforts, alongside hers, Daemon’s and Harwin’s.
“You are as much a mother to them as I am.” Yours. Rhaenyra is saying the boys are as much hers as they are yours. “I have been thinking.”
You are so grateful for it, you could cry. But that’s not why Rhaenyra likes you.
“Oh? You are capable of it? We must inform the Maesters.”
Rhaenyra laughs.
“More respect for your future Queen.” She tries putting on a scolding expression, but is unable to keep her face straight.
“Oh, your majesty! I never meant to offend?” You give her a mock curtsy, and she giggles a bit more. You love her like this, you have come to realize. Rhaenyra is a woman of many flaws, even as a mother. She has grown into something larger than life, a presence that commands rooms yet manages to remain full of love to give.
“Stop it, you,” Rhaenyra complains. “I’m trying to do something here. Have a gesture.”
You sober up, a smile still tugging at your lips.
“I was thinking perhaps you should start wearing my house colors. And before you say anything, I mean it as an order. I already had you made three new gowns.”
You open and close your mouth a few times.
“Dragon got your tongue?” She teases, cradling her belly.
“Rhaenyra… I… Too much?” Because you are not sure what she is saying, but definitely she is not calling you sister. She would say it plainly, your Rhaenyra. That she is telling you to wear her house colors… That’s what men do. To their wives.
“It’s what you deserve.”
She is informed of her father’s death that day. The only person she allows in the room with her, as she loses baby Visenya, is you. From woman to woman. No one else gets to glimpse the fragile human who lives inside the dragon, not even Daemon.
You declare war dressed in black and red.
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The Black Council is filled with fools, despite the support they show to Rhaenyra. You know it. She knows it. That’s why it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you go to step inside the war room, and a guard bars the entrance with his lance. You have been expecting this moment. Dreading it, even. It was bound to happen.
“I am sorry, my Lady, but you are not allowed inside. Orders of the Prince consort.” Of course. Of course it's Daemon. Despite expecting it, you can’t help but be surprised at his boldness.
You don’t wish to make a scene. You truly don’t. But it scares you more than you thought it would. First, you will be banned from rooms. Then, dismissed, if not outright executed. This day had to come, you knew. Everyone had family on the other side of the war, with all the noble houses having intermarried at least once.
In the years to come, the conflict will be known as one that teared brother from brother. You don’t know this, you will not live to see it. Yet, it rattles in your bones.
“What? Prince Daemon?” You ask a little too loud. It attracts the attention of some other people in the hallway, including Rhaenyra who is just arriving. She looks more regal than ever in a black gown that compliments her pale skin.
Whispers start to break out among the gathered, surely reminding your heritage. Everyone is waiting to enter the war room, and the lance the guard has extended across the doorway is certainly drawing attention.
“What’s going on here?” Rhaenyra asks, placing a hand on your lower back and eyeing the guard with suspicion. The man lowers his head.
“My Queen, Prince Daemon has said…” He starts to explain, but Rhaenyra silences him with a dismissive wave of the hand. Ashamed, you lower your eyes.
“I do not care what he has said.”
“He has prohibited the Lady from entering…” The guard argues. Next to you, Rhaenyra tenses. You know he has already angered her, daring to speak above her like that.
“Is Prince Daemon King? Does he wear the crown?” She asks him, fiercely. The guard, wisely, keeps quiet. “She is my right hand. I will not suffer to see her disrespected.”
And with that, Rhaenyra moves the lance aside with a brush of her hand, leading you inside by the small of your back.
At the table, Daemon stands, moving some pieces along the map of Westeros. His back is to you, but he turns as he hears the commotion that precedes your arrival. A smug little smirk is on his lips, as he sees your discomfort.
“What are you…?” Daemon says, when he processes that you are, in fact, inside the room he had banned you from. Then, he notices Rhaenyra. “Ah.”
He squares his shoulders, getting ready for a fight. You try to pull away from Rhaenyra, but the hand on your back turns into claws, grasping at your dress to keep you right where you are.
“Why did you order the guards to not let her inside?” Rhaenyra speaks in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Daemon has to answer her or else. It’s a tone you had heard frequently when she tries to reign her sons in.
“Because I thought she didn’t belong in the war room, my Queen.” Daemon saunters towards you, no doubt trying to intimidate you. You lift your chin defiantly. Usually, you two avoid each other’s path. He resents your position in Rhaenyra's life, as her most trusted council. You resent that he gets to share her bed.
“You gave a ridiculous order.” Rhaenyra argues, rubbing your lower back in soothing circles, as if you were a spooked horse.
“Not so ridiculous. We have known for a long time there is a spy. Why should it not be your pet?”
“I am not! You truly think I would do something as vile?” Desperate and feeling powerless, you turn towards Rhaenyra. For a second, you truly think she might believe him. It’s the scariest second of your life. Losing her in a trap set up by Daemon? You hope she can see how genuine the next words you speak are. “I would never endanger the children, never endanger you!”
“I know.” Rhaenyra says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”
“Come on. Her family is as green as they come.” Daemon raises his hands in the air, as if asking for patience to the Seven Heavens.
“My family is here.” You say, firmly. “Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Viserys, Aegon…”
“So you say. But they are not your family, are they?” It feels as if Daemon has burned you. Nothing has hurt you more. Not even the accusations about you being a spy, or the time you thought you would have to leave Rhaenyra to marry some Lord in the North.
You have spent all your life next to her. All your best years. Now, you are an old spinster, despite being barely thirty. You have always wanted children, like any noble lady in Westeros. It was too late for it now. No lord would want a widow past her prime.
Yet, you have always thought that the void the lack of children of your own had left could be filled by Rhaenyra’s boys. Secretly, you thought yourself a mother already. What else could you be, when your name had been Jace’s first word? When you were the one holding Luke’s hands as he learned to walk?
Daemon wasn’t saying it openly, but it was clear that was what he meant. Rhaenyra’s children were not yours. As they had not been Harwin’s.
“They are!” Rhaenyra insists, but you are barely hearing it. The thought of it has left you too distraught to care about whatever you are discussing. It feels as if your heart is being carved out of your chest. Were Daemon about to suggest executing you for treason, you doubt you would worry. How could you, when it feels as if he has gutted you already? “We are. She is family. And I will hear no more of this matter.”
Her hand curves possessively around your waist. A claim, for everyone to see. You lean into her, shell shocked by it all.
But Daemon isn’t about to let this go. He pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, one you recognize too well. You slump in defeat, despite Rhaenyra’s hands urging you to stay upright.
Daemon clears his throat, dramatically.
“And I fear your time with the Princess.” He stresses the last word, making a long pause. You close your eyes, and keep them closed tight. “Has come to an end. I urge you to come back to the Stormlands, where no harm shall befall you. For King Aegon is the most merciful when the misguided sheep comes back to the herd.” Daemon crumples the paper, and throws it to the floor. You wince. “Nothing to say?”
You shake your head.
“Daemon…” Rhaenyra warns, arm around your waist turning into a vice-like grip. You do not understand it, then. It will be a long time before you do.
“Did or did not your father write that?” He whispers, dangerously.
“He did.” You answer, in a voice so small it’s nearly inaudible. Daemon slams his hand on the table, making you jump, and struts out of the room.
You start to sob, quietly. This is it. Rhaenyra is going to dismiss you from her service. It’s true that your father has been urging you to come back home, stating that you would be protected. Begging you, even. Promising all sorts of things, from freedom, to riches, to a husband, to becoming the wife of a Prince. That’s his level of desperation.
It’s unlike him, to worry so much. But you know part of it is not just fatherly affection and genuine concern for your well-being. No. Taking you from Rhaenyra’s side would be the greatest hit the Blacks could take. Lately, you are one of the few things keeping the Queen calm and tethered to reality. You love her, but ever since Luke passed, Rhaenyra has turned almost unrecognizable. She is paranoid and harsh in ways you had never seen before. Crueler. More Targaryen than usual.
And not only that. You hold an unusual amount of information inside your head. Battle plans, supply chains, locations. Everything that has been the key to the Black’s success so far, you know. The information is too valuable to pass on. If you were to turn to the Greens, you would have to share it, be it voluntarily or forcibly. You are not foolish enough to not know it.
“Breathe, darling.” Rhaenyra cradles your face between her hands. “It's alright. I know you would never betray me. Breathe.” She exaggerates her breathing, placing your hand on her chest. It’s only then you realize you have started to hyperventilate. She pulls you into her, hugging you. On the doorstep, Daemon watches.
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You don’t know what has gotten into her. Never has she touched you like this. It’s not the first time you kissed. You had both been sixteen and curious, once. But it had not gone further than learning how to kiss another person without it being gross. Because that was what friends were for. Obviously.
She smells like soot and blood. It’s clear she has rushed to your side, not even taking time to change after the battle. You wonder who she killed, this time. What city has she burned, how many of the small folk she and Daemon have doomed?
“I thought… When they said there were revolts on the road….” And her mouth is yours, and you can’t think because you want her so bad you aren't concerned about the consequences. Half the Kingdom is against you, already. You are considered traitors on one side, she is the Queen on the other. What does it matter, really, that it’s called a sin? You will die anyway.
“You are mine. Please. Say it to me, love.” Rhaenyra pleads, kissing your jaw. She looks so gorgeous in armor, you feel like you might die any time you glance her way. And now, you get to have her. It’s intoxicating, having all that power at your fingertips. A goddess come to life, set on claiming you, you and only you.
“I am yours.” You say, kissing her brow. You won’t question it. Not when you are so close to getting your darkest fantasies come true. “I have always been.”
“Mine.” Rhaenyra kisses the hollow of your throat. “You are mine.”
She grabs your hand, pulling you towards a chair. The room you are in is not yours, nor hers. Neither of you care, too desperate for each other. Rhaenyra doesn’t care that her blood soaked armor is staining someone’s chair. You don’t care that your dress is getting thrown around someone's room. Just in your chemise, she pulls you into her lap.
It will have to be burned, after this. There is no way you will be able to salvage the white cotton shift after straddling her lap. The blood sticks the two of you together, but you are too joyous to care.
“I love you.” You say to her, as she bites down on the column of your throat, harshly. Still a little bloodthirsty.
A beat of silence. Have you ruined things before they truly began?
“I love you too.” Rhaenyra says, as she kisses your collarbones. “I love you, and you are mine.”
“All yours.” You answer, breathlessly. Purple flowers blooming across your collarbones, a red angry rose right by your ear. Her bloodstained hands leaving marks upon your arms.
“Yours, yours, yours.” You moan as someone clinging to a lifeline.
“All mine, all mine, all mine.” She answers back.
A bite where your shoulder meets your neck. It’s painful, stinging, your vision blurring into soft flashes of orange and red.
“Just take it for me, please. Please, sweet girl.” Rhaenyra sucks another bruise on your skin. Deep lilac that will bloom into soft green. “I need this. I need them to know you are mine, even if we can’t tell them.”
You pant. There is a certain pleasure to it, being kissed with the barest hint of teeth. But it’s more than just the kisses, what has you panting in arousal. It’s the way she treats your body as her own personal canvas. As if you were a precious artwork Rhaenyra is bringing to life with her kisses.
A maroon chrysanthemum, just over your collarbones. Front and center, the bruise blooms. Her hand, holding your jaw still for the softest torture.
You are uncertain if she is doing it out of fear, trying to make sure you are still there. If she is a bit sadistic, in the way Targaryens are. Or if this is simple, raw reassurance that you are willing to do anything she asks. You save the wondering for later, though. At the moment, you are too busy breaking down under the talented mouth of your Princess.
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You don’t want to be separated from her. You know, you know, that something bad is about to happen. Some nights, you wake up, choked up in a bad feeling. You barely recognize her anymore.
Luke’s death had devastated everyone. You thought, after that, never again would you know such pain. You were mistaken. In the months to come, it was as if the children were falling as flies. Everywhere you looked. Jace, Joffrey, Viserys. And through it all, you had been by her side.
Rhaenyra has transformed into something that’s equally beautiful and terrifying. Far more determined and possessive, love harsher and unwilling to let go. Desperation does funny things to women.
As children, your love had been more pure. Untainted but also untested. Your innocence had been lost long ago. But a love that was not pure didn’t mean a love that meant less. it just meant it had grown and changed, as things often did.
Rhaenyra’s heart was not what it used to be when you two were younger. No longer filled with dreams of cake and laughter. But you weren’t the same girl, either.
Before, you had felt the urge to mark her and settled for being marked instead. You had told yourself you were not allowed to have her, that she was Laenor’s, Harwin’s, Daemon’s. And each and each time, you pulled back, curling into yourself. No more. It was not enough, to be hers. No. It was not enough to be owned. You had so little now, you wanted everyone to know she was yours as you were hers.
“Rhaenyra.” You ask her, as she pushes you down to your knees, tossing and turning in the sheets. “Rhaenyra.” As your teeth bruise her thighs, as you bring her over the edge over and over again.
“Darling. Love. Come here.” And you want to sob because it’s not enough. You want her to be yours. You want her to be yours, so you can drag her and the kids away from this madness, far away to a land where the war won’t touch you. Where there is no Iron Throne to destroy the family you have built little by little.
She will never go. Not even after all the boys die. Not even after Daemon is dead, in an incident that’s half an attempt to escape her, half a suicide mission. You have no other choice but to remain by her side, too far in to do otherwise.
Leaving is giving up. Leaving is losing. Leaving is renouncing the Iron Throne, her birthright. She will never go. Rhaenyra would rather tear the realm apart than save herself, and it terrifies you.
What terrifies you more is the fact that despite all the grief, all the pain, you do not regret loving her. You just regret not loving her in the way she deserves, in the way she has been asking for. The clothes, the hands, the bruises. Only now do you realize Rhaenyra has been trying to mark you, claim you. And it’s like you two are finally speaking the same language.
“Promise me.” You whisper against her hair, as you lay in bed together. “Promise you will never take this off.” And you are slipping her a silly thing, a medal of the Mother you always carry with you for protection. It’s not exactly your house’s jewelry, or your cloak, as a man would give to a wife.
Rhaenyra laughs. She finds your devotion to the Faith of the Seven silly. But she gets it, anyway. She puts the medal on, close to her heart.
You loved her differently now. No longer your silver Princess, your childhood companion. In your chest, curling around your heart, a dark possessive thread rests, tying you to her. Finally, you meet her in the middle.
Rhaenyra has always loved you like certain things are meant to be loved. In secrecy. In the dark. Not of her own will, but yours. Rhaenyra didn’t care what others thought. She had been so bold before, trying to get you to step in the light for once. You had not realized it at the time, you had not been ready. You had worried too much.
And now, with no time to worry left, with death threatening your doorstep, you realize exactly what you were missing out on. Every time she walks away, chain glistening between her breasts, you get a secret thrill. She is yours. You know it. It’s your mark Rhaenyra wears close to her heart.
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wrishwrosh · 2 months
Note
hey, i find your posts about historical fiction pretty interesting, do you have any recs?
anon this is the most beautiful and validating ask i have ever received. absolutely of COURSE I have recs. not gonna be a lot of deep cuts on this list but i love all of these books and occasionally books do receive awards and acclaim because they are good. in no particular order:
the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. of course i gotta start with the og. it’s 40 million pages on the tudor court and the english reformation and it will fundamentally change you as a person and a reader
(sub rec: the giant, o’brien by hilary mantel. in many ways a much shorter thematic companion to the cromwell trilogy imo. about stories and death and embodiment and the historical record and 18th century ireland. if you loved the trilogy, read this to experience hils playing with her own theories about historical fiction. if you are intimidated by the trilogy, read this first to get a taste of her prose style and her approach to the genre. either way please read all four novels ok thanks)
lincoln in the bardo by george saunders. the book that got me back into historical fiction as an adult. american history as narrated by a bunch of weird ghosts and abraham lincoln. chaotic and lovely and morbid.
the everlasting by katy simpson smith. rome through the ages as seen by a medici princess, a gay death-obsessed monk, and an early christian martyr. really historically grounded writing about religion and power, and also narrated with interjections from god’s ex boyfriend satan. smith is a trained historian and her prose slaps
(sub rec: free men by katy simpson smith. only a sub rec bc i read it a long time ago and my memory of it is imperfect but i loved it in 2017ish. about three men in the woods in the post revolutionary american south and by virtue of being about masculinity is actually about women. smith did her phd in antebellum southern femininity and motherhood iirc so this book is LOCKED IN to those perspectives)
a mercy by toni morrison. explores the dissolution of a household in 17th century new york. very different place and time than a lot of morrison’s bigger novels but just as mean and beautiful
(sub rec: beloved by toni morrison. a sub rec bc im pretty sure everyone has already read beloved but perhaps consider reading it again? histfic ghost story abt how the past is always here and will never go away and loves you and hates you and is trying to kill you)
an artist of the floating world by kazuo ishiguro. my bestie sir kazuo likes to explore the past through characters who, for one reason or another (amnesia, dementia, being a little baby robot who was just born yesterday, etc), are unable to fully comprehend their surroundings. this one is about post-wwii japan as understood by an elderly supporter of the imperial regime
(sub rec: remains of the day by kazuo ishiguro. same conceit as above except this time the elderly collaborator is incapable of reckoning with the slow collapse of the system that sheltered him due to britishness.)
the pull of the stars by emma donoghue. donoghue is a strong researcher and all of her novels are super grounded in their place and time without getting so caught up in it they turn into textbooks. i picked this one bc it is a wwi lesbian love story about childbirth that made me cry so hard i almost threw up on a plane but i recommend all her histfic published after 2010. before that she was still finding her stride.
days without end by sebastian barry. this one is hard to read and to rec bc it is about the us army’s policy of genocide against native americans in the 19th century west as told by an irish cavalry soldier. it is grim and violent and miserable and also so beautiful it makes me cry about every three pages. first time i read it i was genuinely inconsolable for two days afterwards.
this post is long as hell so HONORABLE MENTIONS: the amazing adventures of kavalier & clay by michael chabon, the western wind by samantha harvey, golden hill by frances spufford, barkskins by annie proulx, postcards by annie proulx, most things annie proulx has written but i feel like i talk about her too much, the view from castle rock by alice munro, the name of the rose by umberto eco, tracks by louise erdrich
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avatar-anna · 1 year
Text
Building a Home
part two to failure
Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe
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"Can I get you anything?"
"No. No, I'm okay, thanks."
"Oh. Well, there's a, uh, there's a jacuzzi outside if you want to go in now. Or later, obviously. But it might be fun to—to relax or something."
"I think I just want to lie down for a bit."
"Right. Of course. I might go to the store, then. Buy a couple things for the week."
"Okay."
Harry didn't know what to say. He'd never been at a loss for words around Y/n. For so many years, they'd been best friends as well as parents and husband and wife. They told each other everything, and now they could barely have a conversation.
As a way to rekindle things, Harry's mother offered to watch the kids while he and Y/n went on a little trip. Harry was unsure at first, not wanting to be away from his kids after returning home, but he was also willing to do anything if it meant that they could break past speaking more than a few words to each other, so he settled for a cabin that was close enough to drive home in case of emergency.
Y/n had been civil to Harry since he came home. She smiled when he played with Simone and Collette and sat next to him at the dinner table, but once everyone was settled for bed, a wall went up around her, and while they still got in the same bed at the end of the night, the distance between them was palpable. Harry understood why, and he respected Y/n enough to grant her her space, but he missed her so much his chest ached. He just wanted to hold her hand, to see that smile directed at him.
The drive up to the cabin was painfully quiet, but he just kept reminding himself that Y/n came. That had to mean she wanted this to work.
He held onto that tiny scrap of hope as he perused the aisles of the general store, as he checked out, and as he returned to the cabin and made dinner for the two of them.
Y/n eventually came out of the bedroom and quietly began helping Harry with dinner, not a word leaving her lips. He desperately wanted to say something to try and break the ice, but nothing came to mind.
After dinner, Harry and Y/n got ready for bed in silence. They stood beside each other as they brushed their teeth, Harry glancing to his left every couple seconds, hoping this stalemate would be broken somehow. But as they got into bed once again without a single word shared, he wondered if they should've just stayed home.
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"I, uh, I spoke to the owner of the cabin this morning," Harry said.
Y/n looked over at him from where she was reading on the couch. "Oh? Why?"
Harry scratched the stubble on his cheeks. "I asked if we'd have to pay full price if we decided to leave early. He said yes, but that's fine."
Frowning, Y/n set her book down and said, "Why would we leave early?"
"Because we've been here for nearly three days and we've hardly spoken to each other, Y/n. We could easily do that at home."
"So that's it? You're just going to give up after a few days of the cold shoulder?"
"Y/n, I am willing to do anything to make things right, to prove to you that I want to be a part of this family, but you won't let me!" he said. "And I know that you're angry and you're hurt, and you have every right to be, I know that, but I can't begin to right my wrongs if you don't talk to me."
He walked to where she was sitting on the couch and rested his hands over hers. Y/n was crying, but she wouldn't look at him.
"You left us," she said. "When you were faced with the truth, you left. Instead of staying and being what we needed, what I needed, you left us! You—You left me.” Her voice broke on the last word, like despite all they went through, she never expected him to let her down like that. “And I—I have hated you for it ever since you left.”
Harry bowed his head. He knew deep down that Y/n resented him, but to hear it was an entirely different thing. "You told me to go."
"I wanted you to fight for this family! For me! But you took the easy way out, and now I don't know how to talk to you. I don't know how to exist around you!"
She stood up from the couch and walked toward the stairs that led to their bedroom. "So no, Harry, I'm not talking to you, because I'm scared I'll say anything that'll ruin things for good."
Harry let her go, sitting down on the floor with his back against the couch. His own tears fell freely now that she was gone. Any hope he had crumbled into dust.
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Alone in their room, Y/n let herself cry.
Harry was trying, he really was, but he just didn't get it. After touring for nearly an entire year, he just left again. She knew she told him they should take a break, but she'd hoped he would stay and try to mend things. If not for her sake, then for the four children they had together. But instead he just...gave up.
Anne came around a lot, and had become the go-between for Y/n and Harry. She was the one who set up video chats for Simone, Collette, and the twins, she told Harry about how things were back home, and she was the one Y/n confided in when she felt overwhelmed by anger and sadness.
And boy was Y/n angry. It was easier to be angry than to sit around and cry, which she had no time for as it was. Now she was having a hard time letting go of her anger. Harry was home now, and he was putting in every stitch of effort with the girls and Julian. He got the girls ready for school, he changed every diaper, he made dinner, he cleaned up around the house. He was exactly the man Y/n had been hoping for months ago. Why couldn't he have been that man before?
In the cabin's bedroom, Y/n rummaged through Harry's things for the sweater she knew he brought just for her. It had been one of her favorites to wear around the house, before he left and while he was gone, but she would never admit that to him. It was at the bottom of his bag, though when Y/n plucked it out, she saw something left there. A scrap of paper.
Without really thinking about it, Y/n took it.
It was a folded piece of paper, worn, like Harry took it everywhere. She hesitated for a moment, then unfolded it, curious to know what was written on the inside.
It was song lyrics, a song Y/n had never heard before. Her eyes scanned over it briefly, recognizing Harry's handwriting and all the little scribbles where he took a misstep while writing the song and arrangements for music were scribbled on the sides. She looked at everything but the lyrics themselves, scared to know what Harry had written while he was gone. But curiosity finally won out, and Y/n glanced at the words Harry had been carrying with him for months.
"I'm in my bed, and you're not here. And there's no one to blame but the drink in my wandering hand. Forget what I said, it's not what I meant. And I can't take it back I can't unpack the baggage you left."
Y/n mulled over each word carefully, trying to enter Harry's headspace as he wrote this song. She wondered how long they had been separated before he wrote this. Was it when he had just left or had weeks or months gone by? She wasn't sure, but by just the first few lines she could almost physically feel this pain.
She kept reading. Over and over again she read each word until she had them memorized, until they were carved into her heart. Of course Y/n knew that the separation wouldn't have been easy for Harry. Despite his schedule, she knew he adored each and every one of his kids; she knew he loved her. But to see with her own eyes how absolutely wrecked he was by his own failings hurt. This was never meant to be how their lives turned out. They were always supposed to lean on each other and survive as a family because they loved each other and wanted this life, but somewhere along the way, that got lost.
And Y/n could feel the regret of losing sight of what mattered most in the song. She could tell how much he blamed himself for everything that happened.
"And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again."
They hadn't spoken much since he came home. Not of how they felt while they were apart, nor of how they planned to move forward. But Anne had once mentioned that Harry felt as though Y/n and the family would be better off without him. Y/n was still so angry at him for leaving that she didn't think much of it. But now, sitting alone in a room with Harry in the same house but still as far away from her as he'd ever been, she understood. He was wrong, of course, Y/n would always need him, would always want him around, but she understood that one's biggest fears could cloud judgment.
Harry had messed up a lot, but he'd also been right downstairs. If Y/n was done, there was no use moving around each other awkwardly day after day. She owed it to herself and to Harry to make a decision, even if it did hurt them.
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Y/n found Harry sleeping on the couch, his legs hanging over one of the arms. He was still in his day clothes, clearly not wanting to enter the bedroom if she was there. Her heart sunk at the sight of tear tracks on his cheeks, knowing she was the one that caused them.
She wanted to make room for herself next to him, curl up into his chest and have a good night's sleep for the first time since he'd left months ago. She wanted to kiss him, run her hands through his hair, hold him close, but something inside of her held her back.
Their relationship was a mess that Y/n didn't know how to clean up. She didn't know where to start, didn't know if she could believe him when he said that things could be different. But she reminded herself that she came with him on this trip because she owed it to herself to try. Despite everything, Y/n loved him, would forgive him the second he got down on his knees and begged, which was why she'd been putting so much distance between him and herself.
But it had gone on long enough. They needed to talk this through. They needed to get everything out and see where they landed by the end of it.
Cautiously, Y/n went over to Harry and gently nudged his shoulder. He woke up in an instant, startled by her sudden appearance. "What is it? What's wrong?" he said, voice slightly slurred from sleeping.
"Nothing. I just...I just don't want you to think that I hate you," she said, unable to meet his gaze. She'd been avoiding holding eye contact for weeks, not strong enough to see everything he felt in them.
Harry sat up and offered her a spot on the couch, and Y/n took up a place on the opposite end. Outside of sleeping in the same bed, it was the closest they had been to each other in months outside of a hug when he first came home.
"I wouldn't blame you if you did," he said quietly.
She hated that he believed it, hated that she'd let him believe it. "I was furious, and I'm still a little angry, but I don't think I could ever truly hate you, Harry."
"I'm sorry," he said. Y/n could tell that he wanted to come closer, but he stayed exactly where he was, nervously fiddling with the rings on his fingers. She still couldn't meet his gaze, so she focused on his hands, finding it easier to look there while they had this conversation. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. If I could go back and change...everything I would. You were right to be angry with how I've handled my career on my own, and you have every right to be short with me. There's no excuse for how things played out, or how I dealt with you confronting me about it. I got scared and insecure and I let myself believe you deserved someone better than me, when all you needed was for me to be a partner. That's all you've ever asked of me, and you were right to say that I'd failed. And...And I'm sorry."
Would she have forgiven him all those months ago if Harry had said that at the time? Y/n wasn't sure. But the Harry sitting across from her seemed to truly understand where she was coming from, and he was owning up to his mistakes. If she didn't extend an olive branch now, there would be no coming back from that.
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For the first time in months, Y/n met Harry's gaze. Her eyes looked blank, though Harry knew it was only because she was heavily guarded. He apologized and would continue to apologize for the rest of their lives, but she had to let him back into it first. And he honestly wasn't sure if she would.
With a blink, Y/n surprised him by saying, "I found this."
She reached across the space between them on the couch to hand him a folded-up piece of paper. He didn't have to open it to know what it was.
Harry wrote the song at one of his lowest points during their separation. A month had gone by, and he still hadn't heard from Y/n. He FaceTimed with Simone, Collette, and the twins almost every day, but Y/n didn't send him so much as an email. After a month, Harry realized that this separation was truly indefinite, and that there was a real possibility things wouldn't be fixed by the end of it. For the first four weeks, Harry hoped that he could come home and work things out, but when a month had passed, reality kicked in.
He'd written the song at a time when he'd felt truly hopeless, when every mistake he'd ever made as a father and a husband gnawed at him. He was facing the reality that he might lose the family he loved more than words could describe, and the thought alone destroyed him.
Seeing the paper now brought back those memories, and now he had a hard time meeting Y/n's eyes. "I must've left it in my bag after I came home."
"I read it," Y/n said. "I hope you don't mind."
Harry figured as much, seeing as she was talking to him at all. The thought of her reading his song made his stomach twist, but at least she was talking to him. "No i—it's fine.”
"It's really good," she said, worrying the paper between her fingers. "I—I know the separation was hard on you, and I haven't made it any easier. I'm—"
"Please don't apologize," he said, reaching over to touch her hand. "None of this is your fault."
"But I—I never wanted you to feel this way. I never—Harry, how did we get here?"
Harry felt like his heart was breaking all over again. He in no way wanted Y/n to take responsibility for everything that went wrong between them. He never in his wildest dreams thought that they would've ended up like this. He loved Y/n with everything he had. He loved his family. All he wanted was to make things right, to be the father and husband they deserved and could be proud of.
"Come here."
For the first time in months, Y/n collapsed into Harry's arms. Breathing the biggest sigh of relief, he held her tight. He wasn't sure how many times they found themselves in this position, so often he'd taken it for granted. Y/n was crying, Harry was crying, but he'd never felt more at peace. He felt like he'd finally come home, even though he'd already been back for a couple weeks. Holding Y/n felt like coming home.
"I don't want to be away from you anymore, Harry. I hate it," she cried. "We're a team, H."
They'd always been a team. No matter what happened, it would be them against the world. Somewhere along the way, Harry seemed to lose sight of that.
"I know. I'm sorry. We can be a team again, I promise."
He didn't need Y/n to voice her wariness for him to know she didn't quite believe him. He knew he would have to win back her trust, but he was committed. Harry didn't care how long it took, his family was the only thing that mattered to him.
"No more music, no more touring. None of it means a fraction of what you and those four angels at home mean to me," he said, tilting her chin up so she could look at him. "I swear, Y/n, I won't step onstage again."
Y/n took Harry by surprise and kissed his cheek. "I just want there to be a balance, Harry. That's all I've ever wanted. I don't need you to give up your career, I just need reassurance that we're always going to come first."
"Done."
Harry knew it would take a lot more than just saying things to make Y/n believe them, but it was enough for now, enough to make it through these uncharted waters.
Y/n tipped her nose against Harry's, then again. His stomach swelled with anticipation as he nudged her back, exhaling some when she finally rested her lips on his.
It was barely a kiss, but to Harry, it was everything. He knew how much Y/n was going out on a limb by letting him in, by giving him a second chance, and he didn't take that lightly. She was the first girl he'd ever loved, and he'd be damned if she wasn't the last.
Y/n eventually fell asleep against his chest, her hands latched tightly onto his t-shirt as her deev breaths kept time with his. Harry stayed up, his hand running through her hair gently. Their legs were tangled together, and Y/n's cheek was squished against him in a way that made her lips puff out adorably. He could've spent the rest of the week just like this, not moving a single muscle, but he had a feeling they'd be going home early after all.
Nothing was near fixed. They had so much to figure out, Harry wasn't quite sure where to start. But he was holding the love of his life in his arms. Harry's life was starting to get back on track, and he felt a little kernel of hope blossom inside him as his eyes grew heavy. As he kissed the top of Y/n's head, he couldn't help but think that they might be alright.
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jaidens · 8 months
Text
And When I Felt Like I Was An Old Cardigan
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pairing [s] : spencer reid x reader
warning [s] : baby spencer | angst with comfort \ fluff | crying | mentions of spencers addiction |
a/n [s] : requests are open!! short imagine I guess
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Spencer was young.
Spencer was young and had gone through more than any twenty-three year olds had. He was bullied and ridiculed throughout his school years, and was constantly working. His mind was on everything, how to be better and how to show people he wasn't some scrawny kid with some luck and brains.
It followed him into his adult life. In his work, if you didn't pull through you were pushed out. Spencer knew he had to continue to work on his information which led to him reading many books each week and never letting him do what he wanted. Whether that was binging Star Trek every night or eating cake and cookies while making fun of scientific facts in random television shows.
Eventually, after the Tobias Hankel case, he was at his all time low in his adult life. Spencer felt as if he had nothing to live for and he was shoved further down in his experiences. He felt like he was pushed on a shelf, and put away, for nobody to care or think about him. That was until he met you, an agent from a different branch of the F.B.I. You let him talk about his thoughts on the case and other facts that could travel along his sentences. It made him feel seen and that's all he needed.
After the case ended, you had called him, and asked if he wanted to get a cup of coffee and see a movie. He accepted it gratefully, meeting you on a frosty November morning. He's clad in a thick cardigan above a button up shirt and a bundle of feelings of worry. Spencer sees you in a small booth near the window, sipping on hot (what he learned to be) chamomile tea. There's a relaxing, acoustic song that's playing on the speakers.
He's gripping onto his leather satchel as he walks over to you. You look at him with eyes that he can get lost in through the dangerous labyrinth of the color. Spencer's hands go to his glasses and he readjusts them on his nose and stumbles to the table. His clothes seem to feel as if they're sticking against his skin as he sits down in the plush brown seat in front of you.
“Hi Spencer.” You say giving him a small smile and take another sip out of your steaming tea. Hes staring at you like you're a new book, the smell of a new book, and everything he loves about the sound of the first page turn. “...Hi.” Spencer responds letting out a breath he had been holding in, letting his shoulders drop and relax.
Spencer's eyes fall on the book that sits on the table that was aged and the spine wasn't in the best condition. He recognizes the name that's etched on the front. “Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë?” He asks you pointing at the book. You set down your tea and nod. “Yes! It's one of my favorites. Whatever our souls are made of...”
“...his and mine are the same.” Spencer finishes and you smile at him, the waitress walks over and Spencer tells her his order of a coffee with four sugars and two creamers. Whatever Spencer was doing, it was working. The soft charm he had to him whenever his dimples would show whenever he would smile, was working.
The same smile showed up the day he asked you to be his. He handed you a book with a note written inside with his messy hand writing. He can still remember the flash of happiness in your eyes as you ran up to him and kissed him. It didn't make sense to him for the first time in forever. It didn't make sense why he was terrified to look at you the next day as you wake up in his bed next to him.
He turns to the other side of the bed where you're laying, covered with his brown comforter. Spencer's hands suddenly feel sweaty and he's anxious, because that's his fiancee, laying in bed and the ring shines against the sun. If you would have asked twenty-three year old Spencer where he would be at 30, he wouldn't be able to answer you. Now, he knows. He knows that he's in complete and utter awe of his fiancee and that he's finally happy. This is what he's dreamed of for years, whenever he was a kid reading fairytale books over and over again.
Spencer finally had been seen and he was never losing it.
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