#‘at all costs keep your good name / you don’t get to tell me you feel bad’

[robertsbarbie]

lied it’s about jessica i don’t care if the premise is about society’s need to torture artists

[jeonqkooks]

i got to listen to ‘who’s afraid of little old me’ live last night i am so powerful nothing can stop me (typing as i’m hella late to a brunch date and will be yelled at shortly)

[lavenderchqn]

"TO PRACTICE FREEDOM"

synopsis — You're the biggest scaredy cat living amongst the people of Scions of Canopy. You try to get over your fear of heights... by trying out bungee jumping under the watchful eye of your partner. Let's just say... it doesn't go according to plan. pairing — kinich x gn!reader warnings — near death experience (falling from heights), minor character death, spoiler warnings for kinich's story and voicelines, ajaw is a lore accurate menace notes — I've had an idea for this as soon as we learned that Kinich has interest in extreme sports... reading his story felt weird (the longer I am in genshin fandom, the more stuff I predict right...)

The People of Huitztlan believe in the concept of absolute freedom. That’s why so many youngsters throw themselves into dangerous sports with a lack of safeguard measures. Perhaps having nothing securing a person allows them to experience said freedom. 

To practice death is to practice freedom, after all. 

“We’re here,” Kinich says, looking in your direction. He has held your hand ever since you started your trek up the higher regions of the Coatepec Mountain. “Do you want to take a break?” 

“Y-Yeah… I need to… sit.” You slowly get down with the help of Kinich. Only after he signalises being opposite of you, do your eyes open.

Kinich has taken a sit too, still holding onto your hand. He’s slowly rubbing circles trying to ground you as best as possible. 

Well… here you are — the biggest scaredy cat, who decided to try and work on your fear of heights by trying out bungee jumping. It’s quite ironic really. Not only are you a resident of Scions of the Canopy, which literally is suspended off the cliffs, but also in a relationship with a guy, whose second name could be ‘extreme sports’. 

To say your mind felt pressure to get over it would be quite an understatement. 

“We can still get down. Just say the word.” Kinich says, keeping his eyesight directly on you. Even if you had asked him to help you with your fears, he’d never force you to do so. Sure, it’d be pretty cool to share interests with a partner, but it should never come at the cost of their mental health. 

You shake your head. You have to try. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think? Kinich will do everything in his power to keep you safe. 

“I can do this.” You answer, taking a deep breath. 

“Well then, chop chop SLOWPOKE!” Ajaw zooms right near your face, spooking you to bits. “Stop wasting MY precious time!” 

“Just how loud can you be…” Kinich sighs, getting up to shoo Ajaw away. “Tone it down a notch, will you?” 

The tiny saurian starts arguing with your partner, although you can easily tell it’s one-sided. No matter how much he would try, the most he could bring out of Kinich were insulting comebacks. Ajaw could try and rage the male in multiple ways… and yet, unfortunately for the dragon, your partner was too resilient to die from anger. 

In the meantime of their dissing match, you slowly get up on your legs. Ajaw is right… You don’t want to waste Kinich’s time because you’re scared and worried. He takes notice of your sudden movement, once again getting close to you. 

“Do you want to try now?” He asks, holding his hand out. These are obvious signs, that he will lead you step by step. 

“Yeah… I think I’m ready.” 

“Alright. Hold still. I’m going to put the climbing belt on you now.” 

As he says, he does. Kinich does it slowly, explaining his movement every step of the way. You’re aware, he’s doing it to ease your mind… and it’s working well. In the blink of an eye, the sound of a snap-hook getting attached brings you back from a short daydreaming session.

“All done.” He takes another look at you, checking if the equipment is snug against your body while making sure it isn’t digging into your skin. “Can you move for me?” 

“Yeah, sure!” You do a slow spin, followed by kneeling on one foot. “Although I can feel the harness… it’s not uncomfortable.” 

“That's good.”

Once again, it’s another series of your partner explaining the next steps. All you need to do is find a point to connect your line to. He already connected the rope to your belt. The other end is currently sitting tightly in his hand. 

“You’re not going to hold me when I jump?” You ask, growing worried. 

“I know you’d feel more comfortable with me doing that,” Kinich starts answering, his eyes wandering for an anchor. “I don’t want to also fall down the second you jump.” 

He even explains the physics behind it, ending his speech by saying it’s best you move further to look for a good place to jump from. 

You’re walking next to Kinich, admiring the scenery. With the rope in his hands, you’re feeling much more comfortable. Although he’s trying to talk here and there… his eyes are still locked on finding a stable anchor. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, an anchor is nowhere near. Curse you lunatics with no regard for their safety. 

“So many jumping platforms, and yet not a singular anchor?” He questions, closing his eyes. 

All of a sudden your eyes land on a ruffed pheasant that just landed on one of the platforms. You’ve never seen one so close! Without thinking about your safety, you start inching closer towards the bird.

Your steps are slow and cautious. The bird, a magnificent creature with iridescent plumage, seems utterly unaware of your presence. Its feathers shimmer in the sunlight, creating a mesmerising display of greens and oranges. An odd sense of calm wash over you, momentarily forgetting the anxiety that’s been gnawing at your insides.

"Careful," Kinich warns, his voice seeming distant as if muffled by the pounding of your heart.

The platform beneath your feet is uneven, its surface worn smooth by the countless jumps of those, who came before you. With no warning, Ajaw jumps from behind your shoulder, screaming right next to your ear. The bird, startled, flies away. You try to also get away when your foot catches on one of the loose boards. The world tilts violently, and suddenly, you're weightless.

A scream tears from your throat as you plummet downwards, the wind rushing past your ears, drowning out all other sounds. The landscape blurs into a mix of greens and browns, the ground below rushing up to meet you at an alarming speed. For a split second, your mind goes blank — pure terror seizing every thought, every instinct. You’re going to fall to your death. 

Back on the hill, Kinich’s body goes numb for a second. He’s seen this happen once before. He cannot allow it to happen again. You’re not his drunkard gambling mess of a father, and he’s not his seven-year-old self. Kinich will save you, even if it’s the last thing he ever does. 

The blood is pounding in his ears when he shifts all his weight to his legs. Only when he cannot feel any force trying to get him off the cliff, does he start pulling up. With a sharp tug, he jerks you backwards, the rope connected to the harness snapping taut. The force of the pull knocks the air out of your lungs, but it stops your descent abruptly. You swing wildly in the air, the ground still far below, the rope swaying and creaking with the strain of holding your weight.

Above, you can hear Kinich shouting your name, his voice frantic, barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeat. You cling to the rope, your hands shaking uncontrollably as the realisation of what just happened crashes over you. You almost fell to your death.

"Hold on!" Kinich yells, his voice breaking through the fog of panic in your mind. "I’ve got you, just hold on for me!"

Tears sting your eyes as you try to steady your breathing, every muscle in your body tensed and trembling. The rope holds firm, and slowly, agonisingly slowly, Kinich begins to pull you back up. Each inch feels like an eternity, but his strength and determination never waver.

As soon as your body reaches the ledge, Kinich grabs onto you, pulling you up with a force that nearly knocks you both off balance. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you collapse against him, shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice unusually tight with emotion. "I should have been more careful. I should have—"

You shake your head, unable to speak, still trying to process the fact that you're alive, that you're safe. Kinich's arms tighten around you, his hand cradling the back of your head as if to shield you from any further harm.

"You're okay," he murmurs, repeating it like a mantra. "You're okay, and I'm here. I'm right here."

For a long moment, you stay there, clinging to him as the fear slowly ebbs away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming sense of relief. The world around you, once a blur of panic and chaos, begins to settle back into focus. The mountains, the sky, the distant sound of birds—all of it feels surreal as if you’ve been given a second chance to experience it. In your state, you don’t notice the glare Kinich is giving to his companion. 

If looks could kill, Ajaw would be dead. 

After a while of sitting idly, Kinich pulls back slightly, enough to look into your eyes. His face is pale, his expression filled with concern, but there's also a deep, unspoken resolve in his gaze. It’s quite different considering the death stare he was giving the saurian just a second ago. 

"We’re done here," he says gently but firmly. "No more extreme sports for today. We are getting you home.”

You nod, still too shaken to argue. As he helps you back onto solid ground, you realise how much you’ve relied on him, not just for safety, but for the courage to face your fears. And even though the experience was terrifying, there’s a small part of you that’s glad you tried, that you didn’t let fear win entirely. You can clearly say, you did indeed practice freedom today. 

In a moment you’re seated on his back, Kinich deciding you’ve had enough walking for today. He’s in absolute control now — and he’s picking the safest route possible. 

“Oh and Ajaw,” Kinich’s voice is laced with coldness. “Don’t think you’re getting away with the stunt you pulled today.” 

"WHAT?!"

date of posting — september 5th 2024

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel w/ a Petite S/O

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Protective Miguel, Flirting, Fluff, FLUFF, Size Difference, Petite Reader, Implied Size Kink, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Miguel LIVES to make you flustered.

He jumps at the opportunity to trap you against a wall or in a corner, using his height and his frame to block you in, his arm leaned above your head, his eyes red, bearing down on you. 

He towers over you, his shadow encompassing your smaller frame as he tells you what he plans on doing to you once you get home.

He used to be really insecure about his body – namely his shoulders – because he thought he looked disproportionate. Wrong.

But, after you showed him love, compassion, and unconditional appreciation for all that he is, he learns to love them. And all because you always tell him how wide and handsome he is, how safe you feel whenever he’s around.

He adores how small you are; he feels like he can keep you safe just by wrapping himself around you.

Yes, he is the big spoon (most of the time). This is non-negotiable.

He just curls around you like a shell and holds your back to his chest, revelling in how small you feel in his arms, how you snuggle into him and make him feel warm. Alive.

Miguel melts whenever you get up onto his shoulders – it makes him feel strong and useful. Especially if it’s to reach something that's just too far away to reach.

Admittedly, he does like to tease you about your height.

He’ll hold whatever coveted item you’re questing for above his head, his chest fluttering at the feeling of you leaning into him, frantic in your reach for your conquest.

“Hmm…I may be able to help you out here,” he says, looking down at you, eyes gleaming with an idea.

“But, it’s gonna cost you.”

You sigh, clamber down from him and cross your arms. You huff. “Fine,” you say. “What?”

Miguel gives you a look – the look – an eyebrow cocked, his lips pouted ever so slightly.

You can’t hide your smile and oblige his silent request.

As you press a soft kiss to his lips, you both know where this is going. Especially when he’s pressing his lips to yours with a feverish fervour, his front to yours, something catching your hip.

And, as your favourite mug lays abandoned on the kitchen counter, you and Miguel continue your little game – your compromise – in the bedroom.

Miguel loves having you up on his shoulders and will look for any given chance to do so.

“Aww, did you miss me, or are you just missing the feeling of my thighs around your face?” you say. Joking, of course. The crinkle around your eyes says it all.

Miguel smiles. Smirks. His hands come to rest on your waist.

“Oh, I don’t need an excuse for that.” He squeezes you, lowering his head until his mouth is to your ear. “Not when you begged me to do it last night. Bet you can still see the marks where I had to hold you down all night long–”

He’s also scared of how fragile you look, though.

If you even seem to be in the slightest danger of being knocked or pushed, he’s around you like a cloak, blocking any and all hazards from coming into contact with you.

One may call Miguel overbearing. But you just call him protective.

Then again, you don’t see the way his eyes gleam over your shoulder at whoever – or whatever – has nearly hurt you. Nor do you see them again, either.

Initially, when you were intimate for the first time, Miguel was terrified of hurting you – that he wouldn’t fit. Though, when he felt how tight you were, he almost lost every sensibility he had and nearly finished right there and then (as ashamed as he is to admit it). Now, he secretly gets off on how you whine when he stretches you out, telling him he’s “Too big – it hurts,” 

It makes his chest swell and his ego bloat.

He also knows you enjoy it, too. You’ve never been very good at hiding your smiles at inopportune moments.

You have names that only you are allowed to call each other.

You call him your “Big Boy” and he calls you his “Little One”.

Anyone who has heard these nicknames – or dares use them – does not retain their hearing ability for much longer.

To Miguel, your petnames are sacred – an insignia of your relationship; of your ownership of each other.

And he exercises this sentiment over you frequently. Literally.

You fit nicely beneath Miguel when he’s working out, so whenever he’s doing press-ups he lays you beneath him and kisses you whenever he descends. And it’s you that has to tell him to keep going with the push-ups when you feel him becoming a little too invested in the kiss.

Whenever you ask him why he does this with you – especially when he can be easily distracted – he gives you a smile.

“Because you’re the only thing that can motivate me to do better. Be stronger.”

His eyes crinkle as he smiles, his fangs peaking out beneath his drawn lip.

“After all, I am your Big Boy.”

There is nothing in this universe – or any universe – that can hurt you. Not while Miguel is alive, your shadow.

And everyone knows this, too.

Though, you may just think the crowd you’re currently wading through is parting simply out of respect rather than fear.

And it is Miguel who affords you this luxury, this constant protection and adoration for whom it is you he holds. And only you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[princessbrunette]

if anyone understands having a tricky relationship with their father, it’s nate archibald. ౨ৎ

somethin small i wrote abt nate bc a few people asked. cw: daddy kink, daddy issues, smut

that distant stare of yours, that pout as you stare out over the city from his apartment window. he knows it all too well. approaches you softly with a slight sympathetic pout of his own, running a hand over your head and bringing your cheek to his chest so he can kiss the top of your head. he couldn’t give you a better father, but he could give you that guidance and love you crave so much. he could do better.

so he gives you everything — you want that dress costing an arm and a leg? it’s already hanging in your side of the closet at his apartment. you too sleepy as you sit at the kitchen table in the morning after a long night with him? he’s forking up a perfect biteful of pancake and bringing it to your lips with a grin, happy to do so. he never gets mad when you snap at him, something deeper clearly triggering such a sudden reaction— only frowning and shaking his head, closing in on you to thumb at your cheek. “whats with the attitude? somethings on your mind. talk to me.” he coo’s empathetically.

it’s not just you that noticed— blair’s smug but somewhat gleeful smile as she totters alongside nate on the street, nudging him with a sharp elbow through her maison margiela coat. “well, you know how thrilled i am for you to finally be tugging along a girl of taste. even if i have to watch you treat her like you snatched her from the cradle yourself.”

he huffs out a laugh, shooting her a confused glance, walking alongside her with his hands in his pockets. “what are you talking about? she’s like one year younger than me. nearly two.”

“age isn’t nothing but a number, nate— i’m talking about the coddling, tell me — does she call you daddy in just the bedroom or do you extend that to all hours of the day?”

“jesus— need i remind you of boundaries blair, what i do with my girlfriend is none of your business… but— no, she doesn’t call me that.”

but it stayed bouncing around his brain like a ping pong ball. started noticing all the little things, how much more you’d cling to him after an argument with your father. selfishly, he almost started wishing you’d fight more— just so he could dote on you like that. the whole ‘daddy’ thing wouldn’t be so weird right? the thought of it had him reaching down to readjust in his tight suit pants, clearing his throat. uncomfortable? yes. but sexy, crazily so.

maybe he could milk it out of you. enforce a little more guidance until you’re putty in his hand. it wouldn’t be hard, he saw the way you’d blink at him all doe eyed when he’d tell you not to stay up too late, both thumbs stroking your cheeks. he’d speak slower, calmer, stand closer, make him the only thing you can see, think about even. he was gentle, loving, held eye contact super well — too well, made your face get hot and wanna look away. made you wanna shrink, go all mushy in your brain. “hey, look at me when i talk to you sweetheart. i don’t bite, you know.” he smiles, and there’s no threat present but god you’d never disobey him. never your nate.

it finally slips out when he’s got your thighs pinned open, strong arms wrapped around them whilst he sucks on your clit. he was always good at that, making you cum. nate knew just how to destress you after a long stressful day, far too stressful for his sweet girl. he laps you up, pressing thick fingers deep inside gummy walls, dribbling over your slit.

“nnnnnn—” you can’t even get his name out, clutching a pink throw pillow.

“i know, baby.” he hums.

“daddy!” you cry, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelid as if he was expecting it. if you’d been more with it, you would have seen him bite back a proud chuckle, shoulders relaxing just a little. he keeps at it, stroking the inside of your sensitive thighs.

“thats right. tell daddy how it feels.”

[narcissarina]

His Serenade˚⊱🪷⊰˚

Tw: mermaid breeding, threat, idk if leon keeping reader for himself count as kidnapping but idk, excuse my mermaid thingy explanation:3

Pirate!Leon × Mermaid!Reader

Word count: 2,569

(I used his romantic outfit since I couldn't finy anymore pirate-y but it suits this outfit for a pirate too!:])

“Captain!” The pirate member called, knocking to his office door as the one whom they call Captain stood and open the door, he cock a brow as they spoke: “we captured something big, will definitely be rich with gold!” they exclaimed and ran off to the net.

The Captain sigh, stepping out from his office as the sea breeze hit his face—the blonde captain turn his head to his crew and see what’s the fuss is all about, “what do we have here, fellas?” He asked. The heel of his boot clicking as he steps down the stairs and look over the net.

“Captain Leon.”

Leon Kennedy, their captain. Even though he did some good things in his pirate life but no one knew that he’s involved in the black market where he sells valuable ‘things’ he sees in the sea, you’d be lucky if he doesn’t want to share you with anyone else.

“I swear I did no harm!” voice squeak out, you were trapped in the net they set—it was only for luring other living things in the sea, but you; you are a mermaid, the most valuable thing and could cost up to millions and make them rich.

You were holding shiny things, silver spoon, gold plate, pearl necklaces and other things that catches your eye. As they say, mermaids like you have a knack for shiny and pretty things. Just like how when the captain they have called came to see the most precious thing they’ve caught came to see what’s happening. Your eyes shine like you have caught something more pretty and shiny, more than the accessories you have in your arms.

He has a pretty face, his eyes glows like the sea. You were mesmerized by his look as you felt breathless for a second.

His voice break your trail of thoughts as he snicker at the sight, “well, well. Didn’t think we’d get a fine maiden in a tight situation.” You hear most of his crew chuckle, probably a bad joke but you smiled at the man awkwardly and try you way of escape.

“W-Will you perhaps let me go?” you plead, the man name Leon, kneels in front of your vulnerable form, he saw your fin flinch as you curled your lower body and feel yourself shrinking under his cold gaze. He spoke, “what will benefit me and my crew once we let you go?” he scoff.

Racking your brains out, trying to find something to make them let you go. And as if on cue, a light bulb lights up in your mermaid brain, “I could find you lost relics and treasures deep within the ocean water.” You beam, Leon swears that your smile is part of the radiation of the sun. It was bright and he thought he had gone blind.

But his interest was piqued, he listens in and pulls the net up to your head to have it not block your face. “and, what kind of treasures are we talking about here, sweetheart?” he chuckles, snatching one of your shiny accessories from you and took a closer look of it.

“Pretty thing like you likes pretty and shiny little things huh.” He remarks, giving it back to you as you yelp and mutter a hush, “thank you.” His eyes still bore into yours, waiting for you to answer his question.

You start to stammer but eventually found your words, “I remember I saw a chest lying deep beneath the sand, the lock looks rusty and it could break easily when forced open.” You mutter, eyes glistening to let him know that you’re telling the truth, “you don’t know, probably a hundred or other things could be worth selling.” You try to tempt them to give in.

Leon turn his head and see his crew mumbling, piqued and tempted by the offer. “Are you true to your words? If not, we might do something worse.” You squeak at his threat and quickly nod, “I swear.” You swore, blinking your pretty lashes at the man—pleading to be let go.

The captain snap his fingers to his men and have you untangled and free from the net, “I’ll be giving you twenty-four hours to get us that so-called treasure, if not. We’ll have you sold to the black market.” Leon threatens, he picks you up and put you on the edge of the ship.

“See ya.”

He drops you off like you were nothing, back at the ocean as the things you collected were now forgotten—you got a new objective to finish, you don’t want to lose your fins and scales now, do you?

But first, you need to get home and show your presence to your father and sisters. They must’ve been worried sick that they couldn’t find you anywhere, “dear heavens! Where have you been?” mother asked, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face and angle your head to see any bruises or wound if you might’ve potentially hurt yourself.

You went to your sisters and father to let them know you’re safe and unharmed, “I told you not to go far from home.” You father sigh, stroking your hair as his eyes speaks with worry “I’m fine,” you mumbled as you assured, “are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He nodded and left, back to his throne—you guess. After assuring everyone and blessing them with your presence, you get back to work and ask some sea friends to help you lift the heavy chest. You know you still remember the path on the way there. It was a bit dark, but the way that the gold shines makes it easier for you to spot and tell your friends to take to the surface.

The ocean was wide as it sends waves, you turn to spot his ship and swim over there. “Knock, knock!” you yelled, knocking on the wood of the ship since it was stop to a halt, “c’mere.” You gesture to the dolphins as they help you lift the heavy treasure chest, “just as I promise!”

Leon look over and smiled at the sight, “lift her up.” You heard him yelled, little did you know—you swim right to their net. Your sea friends panicked and left you with the treasure, you can’t blame them as they don’t want to be harmed.

You let out a yelp, flopping over in the net as the treasure was lift with you. “You have one strong net, captain.” You praised, swaying your fin as the net was put down in the ship, he smiled and mutter to his crew and lift the chest to his office. He’s the one handling golds.

“so uh…” you start, “I did my part, kept my word and brought it back to you and it hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet…” you mumble, fidgeting your finger and your fin flops to the side of the net. The crew looked at each other funny but didn’t utter one word.

Silence was all the answer they could give you.

You look over the blue water of the ocean as the waves crashes, lost in your thoughts as you felt hands around your body—lifting you up like a bride, you shudder at his touch as you snap your eyes to him. It’s Leon, and he was walking towards to the door of his office.

“No,” he says firmly with a grin, his hold to your tail tightens, “I’ll be keeping you as my trophy.”

Living in his ship was not that bad, you thought. He put you inside his office, build a tub for you to swim in even though it’ll be cramped—his office is wide and a little too spacious for him so he didn’t object about constructing a tub inside his office for you to swim in.

Plus, it’ll be good for your scales. Don’t want the beauty to fade away because of the surface air.

Truth is, if you stay in the surface too long—the air will dry you up and make you look like a dehydrated fish and Leon doesn’t like that thought, he had a book in stored that came in pretty handy.

A book about the legends of Merfolk.

It has saved his ass and saved yours, building a tub inside was a dumb idea—thought by the crew but Leon doesn’t give two shits about it. As long as he could keep you to himself, that is all that matters to him, keeping you as his little valuable trophy mermaid.

You didn’t mind that the pretty man took you in though, his eyes shines like the blue sky and sea—how could you also say no to the face he has?

Father, Mother and your sisters would kill you if they knew that you left them for this ‘evil’ pirate that they so-called evil pirates that hunt their beings down so they could make profit or food.

Would it be twisted that you had to agree on that but had to object about the idea of Leon being an evil pirate?

The blonde Captain gives you whatever shiny pieces of trash that you desires and you store them at the bottom of your tub that you now call your second home.

In return, you give him your scales that’s been falling off. Shredding is what they say call it as you grew a new shiny one. Leon was intrigued and once wore it as a necklace to show his appreciation for the gift. It was a beautiful color and a vibrant fade on it. You were one beautiful mermaid, after all.

It once shocked Leon that most people wanted to buy his “jewelry” as they say it captivated their eyes and would pay a ridiculous amount of gold, he didn’t refuse the offer though and experimented what they’ll do with it. One merchant asked a stock or a jar of those scales.

Only fuels Leon’s idea.

You only lie low in your tub and flick your fin out of boredom and blew bubbles on the water, your eyes darted to the male who’s sitting in his chair—reading a book about Merfolks. Your hand scratches at the almost end of your fin as one scale fell off, “Leon!” you called, he never grew tired of that voice that sounds like melodies of a song.

“yes?” he put down his book and focus on you as you held your scale and stretch your hand to give it to him, “another one fell off..!” you beam. He reach out and took it in his hand, placed it in the jar with your other scales; he has been collecting them ever since, “I’m glad I can help you with profits.” You mumble, squishing your cheek to the wooden floor as you bow your head down.

He nodded and got down with you, soaking his clothes as he pulls you into his arms. His hand on the lower back of your waist, his face buried on the crook of your neck. “Just want you to know, you don’t have to force yourself to shred.” He mumbles, kissing your neck as you shudder at his affection.

It feels nice to be held in his arms once in a while, making you to take your mind off with your worries about your family in the ocean. You feel warm.

But this is bad, mermaid goes in heat every after three months and you’ve been craving—desperately wanting to breed, that is the reason why you have your own room and lock yourself in there until it calms down, or you calm yourself down.

You hear him groan with content, your back pressing against him real close. His hand travels down to your tail and feel every each of your pretty gradient scale, “so pretty for me.” You hear him mumble and bury himself to the crook of your neck, heat rising from your cheeks and ears—squirming to his touches.

“You know, I read something interesting…” he mumbles, kissing your skin and resting his chin on to your shoulder. Shifting his position, he got to his knee and push your body to the edge—bending you over, your fin tap his leg lightly as your body grew excited.

“I read that mermaid goes into heat after every three months.”

His statement made you embarrassed, you look away to avoid his gaze—he chuckle as he trail down to your hip and your tail, finding if there was an entrance to pry open. “Is that true, princess?” he asked, his fingers massaging where your rear is. Leon felt something off and move the scales aside that’s been covering something.

You felt his fingers enter you, gasping and tensing up at the stretch.

Leon chuckled and leaned back to look, “found it, I assume.” He pulls and plunge in slowly, making you mewl as your face was planted onto the floorboards and your lower body still in water. He could feel your gummy walls pulse around him, “you're so wet.” He coos and speed the pace of his fingers, you gasp—desperate for air as you whine at the stretch.

“You’re too tight for me, let me help you hm?” Leon coos, while he busy his fingers stretching and curling inside of you—he’s also taking some of your scales that’s been falling and tossing it to the side.

He found your sweet spot.

“oh my—!” you screamed, eyes widen as tears drops, feeling your orgasm when he pressed hard on to your sweet spot. “Can’t have you too loud, you’re gonna distract the guys.” You nodded at his words, twitching as he pulled out—belt buckling and zippers unzip, he positioned himself and slammed himself at ease with one thrust.

You screamed, your gummy walls clenching around him as he groans at the tightness, “fuck, that’s some mermaid pussy.” He hisses, pulling and plunging in—building his pace as he ravages you. Your moans loud and tears couldn’t stop from falling.

“please, I—” you cried, you sing so beautifully as the pirate fucks you to oblivion, “damn, you sing so fucking pretty for me.” His thrust becoming harsh and hard, the familiar warm sensation approaching. Eyes rolling back, Leon grip on to your hips, his fingers digging to your flesh as he chases his high.

Not long until he finally painted your insides white, “fuck!” he curses under his breath, fucking his orgasm inside and being sure to not spill a drop. He pulled out and see the masterpiece he created, your hole twitches as his seeds ooze out from you.

To his surprise, your scales move to finally cover up your used pussy. He laughs at the knowledge he just gained and help himself up, don’t worry—he didn’t forget you and your marvelous singing ability, your ocean friends and family probably heard you.

He stayed inside the tub with you, you snuggling close to him—clinging as if your life depends on it—he drew circles around your abdomen and pepper kisses to your temple.

“I wonder if it’s possible to have a mermaid pregnant with my child.”

“If it is, I want to carry yours and have a family together.”

He smiled and finally lets your rest.

Both of you slept on the tub, being in each others warm and embrace.

How lovely.

◇ asks are open for request!

[promptfairy]

❥    𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

designed for ships, but can be used for a variety of relationship types. change gendered language/add context to your needs. happy roleplaying !!  ♡

❛  it feels so good to be bad.  ❜ ❛  it really makes me wonder if i ever gave a fuck about you.  ❜ ❛  give me something to believe in.  ❜ ❛  i don’t believe in you anymore.  ❜ ❛  i wonder if it even makes a difference to try.  ❜ ❛  so, this is goodbye.  ❜ ❛  one day i’ll wake up & it won’t hurt anymore.  ❜ ❛  it’s like i can’t even feel after the way you touched me.  ❜ ❛  you’re everything that i want, but you don’t want me.  ❜ ❛  am i a regret, yet?  ❜ ❛  was it worth what it costed?  ❜ ❛  you make me nauseous.  ❜ ❛  you’re overrated.  ❜ ❛  when i think of you, i just want to throw up.  ❜ ❛  all my friends say that you’re toxic.  ❜ ❛  why does love suck?  ❜ ❛  love hurts whether it’s right or wrong.  ❜ ❛  i can’t stop, i’m having too much fun.  ❜ ❛  you can’t save me, baby.  ❜ ❛  you never call or listen to me anyway.  ❜ ❛  where were you tuesday, october tenth?  ❜ ❛  how is your jacket covered in blood?  ❜ ❛  how was the party? did you have fun?  ❜ ❛  i fell in love with the warning signs.  ❜ ❛  the only time i feel alive is when i’m touching the warning signs.  ❜ ❛  if you tell me to stay away, i’m gonna dive in again.  ❜ ❛  my favorite color is red like the flags you fly overhead.  ❜ ❛  well, i should have known.  ❜ ❛  didn’t you see it coming? didn’t you see the signs?  ❜ ❛  i’ll break your pretty face.  ❜ ❛  bite your tongue & choke yourself to sleep.  ❜ ❛  you can hold my hand if no one’s home.   ❜ ❛  do you like it when i’m away?  ❜ ❛  you’re a pond & i’m an ocean.  ❜ ❛  all my emotions feel like explosions when you are around.  ❜ ❛  i am a wreck when i’m without you.  ❜ ❛  was it something i said to make you feel like you’re a burden?  ❜ ❛  tell me, is it worth it?  ❜ ❛  she’s a lady & i am just a line without a hook.  ❜ ❛  do what you want as long as you stay here.  ❜ ❛  you’ll change your name or change your mind & leave this fucked up place behind, but i’ll know.  ❜ ❛  if you ever try to leave me, i’ll find you, [name].  ❜ ❛  i’ll be the bad guy, now.  ❜ ❛  i couldn’t be there, even when i tried.  ❜ ❛  seasons changed & our love went cold.  ❜ ❛  i knew that this was doomed from the get-go.  ❜ ❛  you thought that it was special, but it was just the sex, though.  ❜ ❛  it’s only me; what have you got to lose?  ❜ ❛  you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk & made fun of the way you talk.  ❜ ❛  you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong.  ❜ ❛  you’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much.  ❜ ❛  you’ve ruined my life by not being mine.  ❜ ❛  you’re so gorgeous, i can’t say anything to your face. ’cause look at your face.  ❜ ❛  i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way.  ❜ ❛  if you’ve got a girlfriend, i’m jealous of her. but if you’re single, that’s honestly worse.  ❜ ❛  you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts.  ❜ ❛  you make me so happy, it turns back to sad.  ❜ ❛  there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have.  ❜ ❛  guess i’ll just stumble on home to my cats. alone … unless you wanna come along?  ❜ ❛  you look so happy when i’m not with you.  ❜ ❛  i don’t know why i run away.  ❜ ❛  take me back, ’cause i wanna stay.  ❜ ❛  i kept my distance ’cause i know that you don’t like when i’m with somebody else.  ❜ ❛  i couldn’t help it; i put you through hell.  ❜ ❛  i realize that it’s much too late, & you deserve someone better.  ❜ ❛  i’m not the best at breaking up.  ❜ ❛  i like my alone time, but i want somebody to hold.  ❜ ❛  i get what i want. i keep it for a minute. then i let it go.  ❜ ❛  i hate it when you’re there for me, but i like it when you hit the spot.  ❜ ❛  i don’t do fake love, but i’ll take some from you tonight.  ❜ ❛  i don’t expect you to understand.  ❜ ❛  i’m ready to die holding your hand.  ❜ ❛  i can’t hide how i feel about you inside.  ❜ ❛  i’d give everything up tonight, if i could just have you be mine.  ❜ ❛  i’d give up everything for you.  ❜

[mrslankyman]

Sinfully Gorgeous pt. 2

Vox x (fem) over lord reader

Smut

Word count: 5K

Working on: Part 3 - cancelled (sorry!)

3 weeks. 

It had been 3 weeks since you shot that porno with Vox. So why in the HELL was everyone in HELL still raving over it?!

It wasn’t anything special.

It was a brand deal and that was it. It wasn’t like you knew it was going to be Vox. Valentino stated after the shoot he chose Vox since it would boost you both. Sure it did but at what cost?

Your phone was flooded with texts and emails from sinners asking if you and Vox were a thing.

Have you joined the Vees?

Were you and Vox fucking on the low?

How long were you two together?

All these questions were getting to your head and making you sick. 

You laid back in your expensive bed. The silky pillows that most sinners could never afford comforting your head. Phone in hand you scrolled through your feed. Vox’s news show popped. 

“Top of the hour sinners. Today we will be discussing the ongoing discussion that I and I'm sure our lovely {Y/N} is seeing too.” He clasped his hands together and turned to the screen in front of him that was showing photos of sinners questions.  

“Has {Y/N} joined the Vees?” He read aloud. “No she has not, though I would not be opposed to the idea.” He chuckled, sending a wink to the camera. 

You groaned and fast forward on the video stopping when a clip of the porno popped up on the screen. Curious of what he would say about it. You hadn’t talked to him since a day after that was filmed. 

“How did it feel to fuck the {Y/N}?” He chuckled as he read that aloud. A smirk crawled onto his face. “Well folks I’ll tell ya. It was better than any sex I myself have ever had.” He leaned forward covering half his mouth with the side of his hand. “A little secret for you all, she has the tightest pussy you’ll ever fuck in hell.” He laughed leaning back. “Yes folk it’s true she was definitely a virgin and safe to say I took that card from her.” His cocky laugh echoed in your head. 

He took your virginity? 

What was he a fucking idiot?

Embarrassing you on Hell's public news. 

You were not a virgin, far from it and for this cocky ass tv faced man to state he was the lucky one to take it from you made you seeth. 

You instantly opened up your messages and searched his name in your contact. Typing out a text. Fingers flying across the screen as anger edged in every digital word typed. 

{You}: who in the HELL do you think you are? Saying you took my virginity on the fucking news? Real mature of you. What the fuck are we teenagers in high school. If you ever fucking do something like this again I will make sure you and your little fucking news channel are never broad casted again. 

{Vox}: Wow, didn't suspect you to see it so soon. What's the matter, I was just messing around. I bet it was the best sex you’ve ever had, why not say your best was also your first? 

{You}:oh were cocky as fuck huh? You really think you were the best? Keep dreaming. 

{Vox}: I must have been something for you to go off script. 

{You}: fuck you, you went off script as well. 

{Vox}: oh you wanna fuck me again? Maybe I'll make it an even better time, we can make our own script. 

{You}: you know what I meant. Never fucking mention me on your little show again. It was a one time deal. 

{Vox}: aren’t you just a ball of sunshine. Whatever you say darling. I’ll erase that part of the segment from the show and their memories. 

{You}: good, the only time your fucking mind control has been used for an actual purpose. 

{Vox}: Or I can just keep it up. You know you’re not being very kind. 

{You}: oh fuck off this is hell. I don’t need to be kind to the man who just publicly embarrassed me. 

{Vox}: and the man who publicly pleasured you. 

{You}: just take it down. 

{Vox}: yes ma’am. 

You groaned and turned your phone off. Throwing it to the floor and laying down fully. Pulling the covers over your head and closing your eyes. Sleeping the anger and annoyance off. 

—

Your alarm buzzed in the morning. You groaned and woke up grabbing your phone from the floor and turning it off. But not before you saw the message from Alastor. 

“You’re a virgin?”

That fucker didn’t delete the segment!

You dashed around your house putting on an outfit and doing your make up the fastest you had ever. Your shoes were on in seconds and out the door you went. 

You called a cab and got in, instructing them to take you to the Vees tower. Of course you know the consequences of this.

Everyone would assume you were going to see Vox in a different way. When in reality his ass was going to get a fist in his screen. 

The cab dropped you off and you paid them before getting out. Marching up to the front of the building. A few people looked over. Snapping pictures and videos. You rolled your eyes and pressed the buzzer on the door. 

“Who is it?” Voxs voice played through the small speaker.

“{Y/N}.” The second you said your name the doors opened. You smirked slightly and headed inside jumping as the doors closed behind you harshly. 

“Vox! Where the fuck are you we need to have a talk!” You yelled walking around the lobby looking for any sign of him. Footsteps echoed down the hall and there he was. A smile on his stupid flat screened face. 

“Ah {Y/N} So nice of you to stop by-” You grabbed him by his suit's flaps and slammed him against the wall. A groan escaped his lips and his screen displayed a loading circle before his eyes came back. 

“You asshole, I told you to take that segment down!” You screamed in his face without giving a second to think. “Do you know who the fuck I am?! I will end you!” You leaned into his face. Your spit landing on his screen. He glared at you but on the inside he was loving the attention. 

Your hands on him was enough to make him melt. But he had to be sure not to display it too much. Or you’d let go and call him weird. 

“You can end me anytime you want.” His words were smooth and flirtatious. He obviously did not understand the gravity of the situation he was in. 

“You do not wanna fuck with me Vox.” You warned re-shoving him against the wall. He grunted and grabbed your arms. “You know I would love to fuck with you.” He chuckled, eyeing you with a smirk. “You little-” Your grip tightened on him getting ready to shove him again. 

“{Y/N}!” He yelled his right eye widening as he used his mind control on you. You froze your eyes going wide. Your grip on him faltered as you shook your head. The daze wears off. 

“Why don’t you calm down?” He offered, pulling your arms down from his suit. “Don’t use that fucking mind control shit on me.” You pulled your arms away from him. He sighed and rested his hand on his hips. “Yes ma’am.” His voice was full of annoyance now. 

“Delete the segment. That’s all I want. I’ll leave you alone and you do the same.” You held out your hand. “Deal?” You tilted your head, pink fire appearing around your palm. 

“No deals. I just promise I will. I’m no idiot. I know how you pull strings.” He pushed your hand away, the fire disappearing. You groaned and pulled your hand back. 

“Very well.” You nodded even though a part of you knew he would never take that segment down fully. 

“I’ll go delete it.” He fixed his tie, closing his eyes. “Good.” You said before a ding came from your phone. You held it up. “At Voxs darling?” Alastor had texted. A part of you hated Charlie for getting him onto this phone kick. He was so against technology until he was told he could text you whenever. 

Vox opened one eye as he heard the ding. He eyed you and read the text. The words Darling and Alastor made his circuits spark. Why in the hell did that old timey prick have your number? 

“I better leave before everyone in hell assumes we're seeing each other. I do not need that in my life.” You shoved your phone in your pocket. Looking up at Vox whose face had a rather.. Concerning smile displaying. 

He let out a laugh though it glitched. He stepped closer to you. His hand grabbed your arm pulling you to him. “Why the fuck is the radio demon texting you?” His voice deepened. Eyes squinting as he grabbed your phone from your pocket. 

“Hey!- what the fuck.” You squirmed in his grip. A tsk tsk came from him as he used his eye to unlock your phone. Reading you and Alastors messages. Anger surged through him as you both had been sending jokes about him. His grip on you tightened and he squeezed your phone in his other hand till it shattered into pieces. 

“Vox what the fuck!-” You watched as he broke your phone, your attention being snapped back to his face as he slammed you up against the wall this time. 

He laid his arm next to your head on the wall and his other hand gripped your neck.  

“I’m not taking the segment down. You wanna talk shit about me to that damn radio demon go ahead. I'll say whatever I want about you. You are nothing to me.” His words were low and strung out. His eyes were wide and red drool dripped from his mouth. Though his grip on your neck was tight it wasnt hard enough to really choke you out. 

That was one thing he did not want to do. 

He was pissed off but not necessarily at you. The idea that Alastor got more of your attention than him is what pissed him off. He knew it was such a stupid thing to be mad over.

But he wanted you. Even if he had to pretend he didn’t. 

Your eyes squinted and you squirmed under him. Truthfully he didn’t scare you. This position didn’t make you feel threatened, it made you feel.. Other things. 

In a dark and twisted way his anger really made you think of that shoot. How his hands gripped your sides and he’d moan before glitching out. 

“If you wanna scare me you’re gonna have to try harder than this.” You grabbed his face. Your hand pulling him closer. “Cause all I can think about is you glitching out before you cummed inside me.” Your words made his screen display a light shade of red. 

“I-”

“You want that again hmm?” You kissed his screen. “Want to feel my tight pussy as you said? I guess since it was the best I’ve ever had you’d think I would’ve been begging you for more.” You whispered, making your voice low and seductive. His grip faltered as his screen turned red. His eyes drooped as you talked to him sensually. 

“Too bad I wasn’t.” You cooed, kicking him in the crotch. He groaned and keeled over. Holding his crotch in his hands. “Fuck fuck fuck..” He groaned in pain as you stepped over him. 

“You owe me a phone.” You spat on his withering form and walked out.

–-

Safe to say he gave you a new phone. That part of the segment was erased. To your knowledge from the general public of hell. Knowing Vox he probably cut it from half the people's memories and kept it in the other to confuse them. 

What an ass hole. 

Today you were off to Alastor's radio tower. He wanted to have you on this new segment he was working on. Whatever that meant. 

You had made it to the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie showed you to Alastors tower. You thanked her and headed inside. He greeted you and showed you the different buttons and the mic. Getting you accustomed to the technology before having a seat with you. 

Not having a camera in your face was both relaxing and strange. This seemed more like a conversation you were having with a friend that just so happened to be recorded. 

“Today I am here with my dear friend {Y/N}.” Alastor spoke into his mic. Smiling your way as you said hello. 

“So why don’t you tell everyone what it’s like to be the fashion overlord?” He handed you his mic. Urging you to introduce yourself further. 

After the basic introduction was done he began to ask you questions. It slowly became clear to you what he was doing. 

“What is your opinion on Vox?” He smirked and leaned your way. That question made you groan.

“That man? Come now Alastor. You know he isn’t something to talk about.” You leaned back in your chair and your reply made Alastor chuckle. 

“Go on dear. Just tell us about him.” He leaned the mic closer to you. 

“Fine.” You took the mic and leaned up. 

“Vox is something. Not the kind of something you’d want either. He is terrible in bed.” You snickered at the idea that Vox would be listening to you. “Oh is he now? I do believe we all saw that video dear. It seems the opposite.” He eyed you a shit eating grin on his face. 

“That’s what a script is for.” You sneered. 

“There's a theory you went off script. After all that Valentino did post it.” He checked his claws smirking. 

You groaned as Alastor was just doing this to stir drama. He hated Vox but loved to mess with you. So he was playing both ways. 

“Anyways, besides that he is a prick and snoops on everyone. He is fucking insane but I suppose that’s why he’s here. If you are thinking about trying to get with that man please do so he will leave me alone.” You handed the mic back to Alastor. He was holding in his laugh. “Thank you dear for your lovely insight on that clout chasing mediocre video podcasts.” He ended the broadcast and sighed.   

—

About 4 hours after the broadcast a ding sounded from your phone. Either it was Alastor or some random person. 

You checked the message and groaned as the name displayed on your screen. 

Vox.

Of course. 

You slid open your phone and sat down on your couch to answer him. 

{Vox}: doing a broadcast with the radio demon to degrade me? Really. After you begged me to delete your segment.

{You}: what's the matter? Thought you liked being degraded 

{Vox}: I'm not doing this. I’m gonna have to make you understand. 

{You}: oh really? Why don’t you just face that you suck in bed and you suck even more as a person. 

{Vox}: I suck in bed? Oh sweet heart. I don’t believe that's what you truly think. 

{Vox has sent a video} 

You pressed play, wishing you didn’t as a clip from the porno played. You were riding him moaning his name and begging him to go faster. His fingers digging into your sides as he rammed into you on your command. 

{You}: have to give the audience what they want.

{Vox}: oh yeah? What if there wasn’t an audience? 

{You}: then none of that would’ve happened. I’d be as quiet as a mouse.

{Vox}: we’ll see about that. 

{You}: what's that mean? 

:seen 3 minute ago: 

“Bitch.” You turned your phone off and laid down on the couch. Letting your mind wander back to the shoot. Perhaps you did enjoy him a little more than you’d like to admit. But you’d never tell him that. Or anyone for that matter. 

It’s bad enough there were more theories going around on you two. How the hatred was an act so you could keep things private. How it was fake or just a stunt for money.

You’d let the public guess and argue over it. You had no intentions on stating anything as of yet. 

So not thinking much of anything you turned on your tv and sat back. 

You sat up a little as you tv went to static. A blue glow came from it after a moment and a shock wave burst from it. The room went black and then the tv turned back on. Vox stood in front of you. Blocking the tv from view. 

“What the- Vox what the fuck!” You sat up all the way as Vox stepped closer with a smile on his face. 

 “We don’t have an audience here.” He leaned down looming over you as. Leaning back into the couch you slowly smirked. “Oh is that so? You wanna see if you can really work your magic on me?” You teased him watching as his face grew more annoyed. 

“Yes I do.” He put a finger under your chin and lifted it up. “I wanna prove to you that going off the script was because I am good at what I do. Not because you wanted to promote your bullshit brand.” He chuckled and moved you down on the couch to a lying position. 

“Oh you really wanna prove a point? Then I'm gonna make mine. I bet you can’t make me make a single sound.” You snickered as he threw his hat off to the ground. 

“Fine but I'm gonna make you eat those words.” He leaned down and kissed you. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth. 

He slid his tongue inside your mouth. You closed your eyes and let your tongues tangle together. 

His hand slid down your sides and grabbed your jeans. You didn’t make a noise, the only sound was your pants rubbing together as Vox began to grind against you. 

A part of you just wanted to give in. Let him take you and win. But the bitch inside you wanted to win to shove it in his face every day. So you suppressed your moans and pulled back from the kiss.

He stared down at you and smirked, “Come on.. Just a little peep.” He groaned and made a quick upwards motion with his hips. It felt good you wouldn’t lie. 

You shook your head and smirked though earning an annoyed groan from the man above you. “Good thing we just started.” His voice was low as he undid your pants and yanked them off with a swift movement. 

You stared up at him and smirked. He slid off his blazer and undid his tie. The only thing left was his striped shirt. 

You sat up and pushed him down instead. He looked at you confused before smirking. He liked this and he didn’t care if you didn’t care in the moment if you didn’t like him how he liked you. Any form of attention from you was good. 

The feeling of you sitting on his bulge made his screen glitch as a low moan escaped him. He wanted to hear your approving moans as well but you weren’t giving it to him. You just moved against him with the best poker face he had ever seen. 

“F- fuck..” His voice buffered as he grabbed your hips and lifted you off him slightly. He didn’t want this to be over too soon. 

“I’m gonna break you. Just you wait.” He clawed at the sides of your underwear. Breaking the thin fabric, grabbing them as they fell down. He tossed them to the side and looked at you.

You blushed. Thanking Lucifer a blush didn’t count as a noise. That action was pretty hot. The desire in his eyes shone through. He slid off two of his claws. Just as he did for the shoot.

He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked them. Red saliva littered them. You anticipated the feeling of them inside you. Trying to prepare yourself so you didn’t moan. 

But he didn’t just slide them in. He circled his fingers around your clit. 

Smirking as he saw you twitch. Biting your lip before going back to a straight face. 

“Oh come on. I almost got you.” He laughed and slid one finger in. Pushing it in and out before adding the second and curling them inside. 

He kept pumping them in and out at different paces trying to make you moan. Anything really. A small gasp or groan. 

He wasn’t given the pleasure. 

You just closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling. You hadn't met a man who could finger this good. He sure was something and you would love to keep this up. But his fingers just weren’t like his dick. Which was under you twitching and leaking pre cum. 

Just waiting for it’s turn inside. So you grabbed his wrist and he slid out his fingers. 

“Come on.. I’ll only give it to you if you beg.” He smirked and slid his finger down your slit teasingly. You shook your head. 

“Come on!” His voice statticed and he shoved his dick inside you. The amount of force you had to use to suppress your moan was astounding. 

He groaned as he noticed you didn't make a sound. 

“Fine, but I'm still gonna give you a damn good time. So you can’t say im shit at this.” he pulled out of you and flipped you over. Pushing you down under him. He wrapped your legs around him and slowly slid inside you again. Leaning his head back a quiet moan escaping his lips. 

You grabbed his shoulders and bit your lip. With each steady thrush the feeling of giving up echoed in your mind. It was starting to hurt holding in your noises. His eyes were squeezed shut, teeth bared and red drool dripping from his mouth. Blue static came from him as soon as he picked up his pace. 

“F-f-fuck.. I fucking hate you.” He slammed into you and a quiet moan escaped your lips. 

His eyes shot open and he looked down at you. Your face was red and sweaty. You covered your mouth, a smirk displayed on his face.

“What was that?” He taunted and slid all the way out of you then back in. A quiet moan escaped your mouth again. 

“Yeah that's right, I knew you couldn’t last forever.” He chuckled, his cocky attitude back. He kept his thrush gentle and slow. You gave in and let your moans fill the room. Vox loved the sounds. All your attention on him every moan, grunt, and whimper from your mouth was for him. It made his dick even harder. “Vox..please.. Please I'm.. I’m almost..” You stared into his eyes on the verge of orgasm. 

“Go ahead, we’ll do it together darling.” He slid his hand down and circled your clit and thrusted into you on more time. His cum filling your inside as yours too gave way and hit your orgasm.

His screen glitched out and his voice buffered as he moaned your name. 

After you both came down from your highs you looked into his eyes. 

“I hate you.” You glared at him. 

“You may hate me but I know you love him.” He chuckled as he slid his dick out, rubbing it against your slit. Earning an annoyed groan from you. 

“This was fun. Good to know you enjoyed it.” He winked and stood up. Putting on his clothes. He walked down your hall. You groaned and looked down at the cum on your couch. Annoyed now. 

He came back with a damp towel. He pushed you down gently and cleaned you up. Then rubbed the excess off the couch. 

“Gotta keep my toy clean.” He pinched your face before sliding his claws back on. 

“Least you have decent manners.” You scoffed and sat up. 

“Of course.” He smiled and glitched out. Disappearing into the tv. The room went black before the lights turned on. 

You got dressed and sat on the couch. Embarrassingly repeating the way he moaned your name in your head over and over. 

Why did you let him win? 

—

Today was your and Alastors photo shoot. You were modeling Sinfully Gorgeous but just a few of the modest outfits. With Alastors old time camera it made things look more classy. So he had agreed to do a small shoot in your studio. 

He had arrived about an hour ago. He was all dressed up just waiting for you now. You had gone for an old timey style of makeup and hair. 

Walking out of your dressing room he looked over. His eyes widened and a pleasant smile erased the plain one. 

“You look lovely darling.” He titled his head. “Thank you. You look rather handsome yourself.” You complimented back, gaining a chuckle from him. 

“Shall we do this?” He stood up straight. “Yes.” You replied back heading over to the backdrop. It was plain white but it made the photos show up better.

You did a few different poses and outfits. Some silly and others professional. 

“Wait, I have an idea.” You smirked and Alastor looked at you with a confused smile. 

“Voxtek is sponsoring this shoot. Part of a contract deal after that shoot with Valentino. I made Vox sign a contract to sponsor whatever I want when I want since I had to.. Fuck him” You rolled your eyes. 

“Right.” Alastor chuckled. He knew better. You and that tv headed fucker for sure had something going on. But you were his friend so he wouldn't say his true opinion. Though he sure as hell did back at the hotel. 

“I know just the way to tick him off.” You smirked at him and he instantly knew what you meant. Loving the idea of pissing off Vox for fun. 

—

You did a few poses. Holding each other. Alastor dipping you and finally the ones that would piss Vox off the most. You knew Alastor wasn’t one for these types of things. Though he agreed he did not mind if it was just to piss off Vox. 

You had ordered your helpers to set up a chair. They did as asked and Alastor sat down.

“Go head darling. I wanna see the look on his face when he sees these.” You both laughed as you sat between his legs.

Alastor gripped your chin and turned your face to his. His smile on his face. Though it was a more intimate one. He sure played this well. You look into his eyes with as much passion as a smirk displayed on your face.

 The photo was taken and you stood up. Slinging your legs over Alastors lap, your assistant changed the camera's angle to get a side view. Alastor looked into your eyes. “Excuse me if I am not good at this.”He chuckled and you smiled. “It’s okay.” You both had a short laugh before getting ready for the photo. 

He closed his eyes and you leaned in. Pressing your lips to his. He kissed you back but he wasn't hesitant. He just wasn’t sure how to move his lips. You pulled away the second the photo was taken. 

“You aren’t terribly bad.” You joked, gaining an eye roll from him. 

The last photo was one of you both standing. Alastor kissed you one last time but in this one his eyes were looking at the camera. A bigger dig at Vox. 

—

“Thanks for helping me.” You thanked Alastor as you had gotten the photos ready to be sent out to Voxtek. “It’s not a problem. Anything for an old pal.” Alastor smiled as you both walked out of the studio. 

—

Vox sipped on his coffee until a ding came through on his screen. He flicked his finger and sent it to one of his monitors. He opened the email and sifted through the photos your team had emailed him. 

He groaned as it was you and Alastor. Pissed off that the radio demon was getting your attention now. 

His anger was pretty controlled till he got to the attachment labeled ‘surprise.’ 

A part of him hoped it was some sinful photos of you in your outfit. Though to his dismay it was not. 

He opened up the file with a smirk on his face only for it to be erased in a meer second as his eyes landed on you and Alastor kissing. He gripped his desk claws digging into it. Leaving a mark. 

He groaned and looked at the next photo. Alastor kissing you and eyeing the camera with that smug grin tugging on his lips. He screamed and slammed his fist into the monitor, cracking it and causing the screen to glitch out. 

The monitor turned off as he kept punching it. His screams and groans of anger echoing through the room. 

“The fuck is your problem?!” Velvette asked as she slammed open the door. 

Vox turned around to look at her. A deranged smile on his face as his eye twitched. 

“Set up my showroom. If this bitch wants to play dirty we’ll play dirty.” He pulled his hand out of the monitor watching as his blood trickled down his arm.

[mollycabot]

Casey x sister reader

Messed with the wrong person

Y/N= your name Y/N/N= your nickname

A/N the Svu team deals with a lot of sexual assault case daily but what happens when a case they deal with that involves the victim in question is Ada Casey Novak younger sister. First law and order fan fiction hope you guys enjoy it. (Mentions of sexual assault and talks about being rape) and tiny mentioned of self harm not in great detail

It was just a other day on the job and Olivia and Elliot and the team where helping victims of sex crimes however a report came in of a breaking and entry into an apartment that is housed college students.

Olivia and Elliot went to the scene and was greeted with a girl covered in bruises and blood and naked leaning against the wall as the others where gathering evidence, Olivia went to talk to the girl Elliot gave her his jacket and Olivia warped her in a blanket as well to cover her up and to keep her warm.

“Hun can you please tell us your name and what happened?” Olivia asked the girl was in shock and confusion. “I don’t want to talk about and I don’t want my sister to find out.” The girl said scared.

Olivia then asked “who your sister sweetheart and this wasn’t your fault we going to find this guys and make sure he’s locked up for good” said Olivia.

The girl just sat there and said nothing Liv then went to carry the girl to the ambulance she looked to be no older then 20 at least feeling sorry for the girl she got int he ambulance and rode with her.

Once at the hospital the doctors checked her out and sent the rape kit off to the labs as Liv was taking her statement. “Hunny you need to tell me your name as this will make it easier for everyone.” Olivia said kindly and gently. The girl looked away from the detective. “My name is Y/N”. Said the girl and Olivia asked about her last name the girl took a breath and said, “it’s Y/N Novak.” Olivia stood shocked and look at the girl. Olivia then had to ask, “is your sister Ada Casey Novak?” Olivia asked the girl nodded and with that Olivia stepped outside the hospital room.

Olivia called Elliot who was back at the station.

“Hello Liv” Elliot said, “listen Elliot I got the girls name and last name and she Casey Novak younger sister and I know full well that Casey is going to go crazy we both know how much she loves her younger sister and wants to protect her at all costs and that this guy will be lucky if Casey hasn’t killed him.” Olivia said not knowing that Elliot phone was on speaker as he was busy writing up his report and not realising that Casey had heard the whole conversation the look of anger was an under statement.

“What the hell is this!” Casey shouted and Elliot look a taken back “what hospital” and what this guys name I want him getting the mix sentence he can get”. Casey shouted as she got her coat and head her way to the hospital.

Elliot phone Liv to let her know about the red head is on her way and is ready to kill someone,

As Olivia was stood outside the girls room Casey walked up and pushed Olivia against the wall. “Why the fuck did you not call me as soon as got the case!”casey demanded. “She didn’t want to give us her name at first and she was so badly beaten and shocked that she wasn’t in any frame of mine Casey you know how victims can be and I want to find this guy as much as you do but being angry isn’t going to help anyone.” Olivia said and with that Casey let go of the detective and walked into the room where she found her sister lying on the bed crying. Casey took a seat next to the bed and took her sister hand in hers.

“Y/N it’s ok your sister here and I’m going to make sure that no one hurts you ever again.” Casey said. The younger girl pulled herself up and try to give her sister a hug but hiss at the pain of her broken ribs Casey placed a gentle hand on her chest and gently pushed her down on the bed so she wouldn’t hurt herself more. “It’s ok Y/N I’m not leaving your side and can you tell who did this to you?” She ask.

Olivia came in with three cups of coffee Casey helped her sister sit up as Olivia handed everyone their cords and sat down.

“I don’t know there names but there where a group of boys who are in there final year of college the also very popular and went my ex and I broke off she went to tell them I was a lesbian and a piece of shit who is nothing but a worthless pile of trash and that I’m nothing compared to my sister and that I’m not a woman and that they will show me I’m a woman and then when I got home later in the evening I started working on my painting when I heard my door got broken and these two guys walked in and started trashing my place and destroyed my art works that I been working on and when I asked them to stop and leave the start to beat me up and one of them said well my lady it’s time to show you how an women is really use for and they started to rip my clothes off and I was fighting them so hard and shouting stop please stop they didn’t and then one of them stood over me with my lamp and bashed it over my head then I can’t remember anything after that”. Y/N said drink her coffee.

Olivia was shocked and Casey looked pissed and once the results of the kit came back it was positive for rape and that the where traces of semen but pregnancy and sexual transmitted diseases where negative. Which was a good thing meaning they have the evidence and that Y/N was going to be ok well as ok as she could be. Once Y/N was discharged from the hospital they all went back to the office and they started the case for this and Olivia and Elliot went to the college to start looking for the guys who did it.

While they where out Y/N was sat in Casey office with Casey. “Case can I borrow your clothes if you got some going spare and can I go take a shower?” Ask Y/N. “Sure Casey said want me to come with you and stand outside?” Casey said Y/N nodded and they headed straight for the showers. Casey was leaning against the sinks as Y/N was in the shower. “Y/N/N it’s been a while, I know this is hard and you might not feel clean but trust me all the dirt and stuff is long gone.” Casey said in a gentle tone knowing how the victims tend to be after an event like this. As Casey got no response she had a growing concern and she walked up to see her sister sat on the floor of the shower water pouring over her, her skin turning red from the hot water and her curled into herself with blood coming from her arms. Casey turned the shower off and warped her sister in a towel and picked her up and sat her on the sink given that Casey sister always struggled with mental health issues well before this event as her parents always saw her on the lower level and that she was a let down in not going down the same road as Casey.

But Y/N passion was for art and loved everything about art and Casey was always supportive. Once Y/N clam down Casey handed her the clothes and she jumped off the sink and went to the changing blocks and put the clothes on, once back in Casey office Casey took out the first aid kit and started to treat her sister arms.

After Elliot and Olivia caught the guys thank to Y/N’s roommate who installed CTV cameras in the living room of the apartment they where able to find the guys and got the attack on video with More then enough evidence of this they had definitely got the case In the bag.

At trial

Once in the courtroom everyone took there seats and Olivia and Y/N sat behind Y/N attackers and Casey after Casey showing all evidence and after Y/N give her statements the people decided the result of the trial and Y/N attackers where found guilty on all counts and where sentence to 20+ years in jail with out bail and Casey couldn’t be more happy to have got justice for her sister as the attackers where escorted out Casey turned and said you mess with the wrong person pal no one hurts my sister and gets away with it. Casey said angry at the men once court was over she meet up with Olivia and her sister.

Y/N ran and gave Casey a hug, “thank you so much case your are awesome at what you do and I appreciate everything you done for me right form when we where kids I love sister” Y/N said with genuine happiness Casey hugged back and said that she thankful for her sister and that she always here to protect her as she the light of Casey life. And her and Olivia and Y/N decided to got and get some food to celebrate the trail and that those attackers are away for a long time and will never hurt anyone again.

After that event Casey help her sister unroll herself form the course and help move her into her own apartment block not to far from Olivia and helped her move all her things and Y/N decided to carry on with her art life and Casey couldn’t be more proud of her and knowing she was close by and will never be far again Casey decided to stay over at her sisters for tonight as it had been an eventful day and eventful past couple of weeks.

[its-time-to-write]

hi i love your work.

can i get touch deprived reader with jamie or roy

you totally can! It just comes at the low, low cost of way more words than you bargained for. Fair warning, Jamie isn’t even introduced for a good solid chunk of the first half. I also have been touch deprived so this is based on personal experience lol.

I feel like I let this get away from me in the same way the Vienna fic got away from me😂

sinking into your worn out mattress

It’s the same routine every day.

Wake up, get dressed, go to work, come home, make dinner, fall asleep, repeat.

It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. You’re nothing if not efficient, maximizing your time to the best of your abilities. It’s not the most glamorous thing in the world, but you enjoy it. You’re lucky enough to be working on your supervision hours under a renowned psychologist, Dr. Fieldstone in London, and it’s paid. Over half the people in your cohort are struggling through unpaid internships and juggling a second job just so they can make ends meet. You’re all propelled forward by the promise of better pay as soon as it’s all over, dreaming of the days you can own your own practice.

You’re not even sure how you landed this internship, as Dr. Fieldstone rarely ever takes on interns. (She’d tell you later it’s because she saw the same potential her supervisor saw in her.) But you have it, and you’re now assisting her in her on-location therapy to various sports teams. You’d been at a rugby club for a few months, but now it’s time to move on. Dr. Fieldstone was asked to come back to a previous club and although she’d never admit it, you know it was her favorite group to work with. It’s the only club who’s picture is on her desk. It makes you smile every time you see her surrounded by a rowdy-looking group of footballers and two very American coaches. She had said that the one with the mustache was no longer at the club, but the bearded one still was along with the angry looking man to the side and the short, grey-haired man.

You’ve seen the photo so many times that you have everyone’s faces memorized. You’re secretly excited to meet the team that made Dr. Sharon (in her colleagues’ words,) loosen up.

You weren’t friends, with Dr. Sharon, never once dropping the “doctor,” that preceded her name, but she would occasionally swing by your standard housing with a bottle of wine after a particularly difficult day. 

“This job can be emotionally draining,” she’d say. “I always wished I had someone there for me at the beginning.”

She rarely smiled or showed outward affection, but you understood that this was her way of saying she cared. 

But now you’re packing up your flat into your car, and headed to your new quarters in Richmond, London.

—

It’s apparent that Dr. Sharon has a strong connection with the players. There are a small few who allow you to run each session, most preferring to stick with who they know. Your days are mostly filled with analyses and treatment plans, with about two real session a week, one with Rojas, D and Maas, J. You don’t even sit in with Dr. Sharon much anymore, as the thought of an observer makes some of the players uncomfortable.  

It’s stressing you out.

How are you supposed to fulfill your hours when you can’t even get consistent sessions?

Dr. Sharon, in her limited kindness, refers you to a friend of hers in town. 

“She runs a small practice and works mostly with women. You’ll be able to keep your housing and fulfill your hours. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You look at her. “Right,” you reply, “because you’re going to have so much time to help me out between all the things you’ve got going on.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Listen. Since you’re not my intern, I can become your therapist. I’ll even give you a discounted rate since you’re still interning. We’ll set up weekly sessions. You’ll be fine.”

You’re still not sure. Dr. Sharon can see the apprehension in your face. “Alright,” she says. “If you schedule our sessions in the evening and cook dinner, I’ll do it for free. It’ll be informal, one therapist to another.”

That’s big. She rarely does anything for free. In a moment of boldness, you say that to her face.

She cracks the tiniest smile. “It’s possible that I’ve grown fond of you. And even more possible that I’m addicted to your cooking.”

Huh. You suppose miracles do still happen.

—

Sharon is over for dinner for the third time in a week, and you’re suspicious that she might actually enjoy spending time with you. You’re laughing about some stupid story that happened during a natural environment observation (it involved a slip n slide, an obscene amount of shaving cream, and footballs being thrown at players heads) when out of nowhere you feel tears slipping down your face.

“Oh my gosh” you say while maybe laughing, maybe crying, “I think I’m broken.”

Sharon (she insisted you drop the “doctor,”) asks, “Are you alright?” and you shrug while you begin full-on sobbing.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you say between gasps. “What the actual heck.”

At that, Sharon grins. You’re retaining some element of your humor, despite actually crying.

“Just go on and fucking swear already,” she says. “I think we’re past a truly professional relationship.” 

You shake your head. “No!” you say. “No, my mum wouldn’t like it.” Fresh tears start to fall at the mention of your mum. Sharon is actually concerned now.

“I’m not sure you’re alright,” she says, and you shoot her a no duh look. “Let’s discuss what might be the root of your issue. Have you been feeling differently lately?”

You’re wiping your eyes and trying so hard to get it together. You’re not even sure what your problem is. You were pretty sure you were doing fine, but you think back to your week. It had been pretty standard, nothing out of the ordinary. You shake your head.

“There is nothing too small to mention. Anything out of your usual routine? Physical discomfort, emotionally-draining sessions?” Sharon asks.

“No,” you reply, tears almost under control. “Wait. Yes.”

Sharon looks at you expectantly. “God, this is going to sound dumb.”

She reaches out to pat your hand. “There’s no such thing as too dumb,” she says in her therapist voice. 

The gesture is so much like something a sister would do. 

“Right,” you say. “Ok. My, um, the insides of my elbows like, hurt? They just feel weird, I don’t know. It started two weeks ago I think and usually I can just pinch them and it’s fine, but that’s the only thing I can think of, I guess.”

Sharon has gone full therapist, and is giving you an analytical look. “Hm,” she says. “Tell me more.”

You shrug. “There’s not much to tell. It’s not like painful, it just feels weird. I hug my pillow when I sleep and that also helps. Um, I push up my sleeves so they go around my elbows and the pressure helps.”

She asks, “When was the last time you saw a friend?” and you can’t think why this is relevant. But you also can’t remember.

“Probably since before I moved,” you say.

“And when was the last time you saw your family?”

You begin to see where she’s going.

“God,” you groan. “I’m an idiot.”

Sharon laughs. “Do you see why it’s so difficult for therapists to self-diagnose? We’re so busy trying to save the world that we forget to save ourselves.”

“But it’s so stupid,” you say. “It’s like, one of the most basic forms of self-care.”

Sharon shrugs. “Touch-starvation is a real thing. It manifests itself in different ways and apparently yours manifests itself in your elbows.”

It’s so ridiculous that you laugh. She does too, and reaches out to squeeze your arm. “I’ll be more mindful of it,” she says. “In the meantime, you need to find yourself some friends. Some people your own age. I’m prescribing you at least two nights out a week.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “I don’t even know where I would go. Or how to meet people. Or what to say!”

“That’s the problem with us therapists,” Sharon says. “We’re really best in a clinical setting. Shouldn’t be let out of the house, really. How about this; next time Richmond has some group event, you come. They’re a rowdy bunch, around your age, too. It’s an incredibly healthy environment, and you’ll be easily accepted. It will be a nice gateway to having a social life. There’s a match this weekend and they’re almost guaranteed a win, so keep your calendar open.”

You open your mouth to protest but Sharon holds up a hand. “I’m prescribing this as your mentor, not as your friend. It will be a healthy change of pace, I promise.”

—

Seeing AFC Richmond in person and off the pitch is like an out-of-body experience. 

You’re putting names to familiar faces, and getting a crash course on their personalities. 

You know Dani and Jan Maas from your short stint as their counselor, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to introduce you to everyone else. Dani is holding your elbow to guide you around to all sorts of people, and you can physically feel the serotonin production in your brain. 

You meet Higgins and his wife, the hosts of this barbecue as well as some of their children. It’s hard to miss them because they keep coming up to shoot Dani and Jan with nerf guns. They’re weirdly prepared, pulling out their own from thin air. 

“Don’t worry,” Jan says, “We’ll defend you.”

It’s very much like a large family gathering. You meet Richard, who kisses your hand and comments on your beauty. Zoreaux, who smiles and asks if you want anything to drink. Bumbercatch, who asks if you can read minds. And finally, Roy and Keeley who are standing in the kitchen and definitely were not kissing right before you walked in.

“This is one of our coaches,” Dani beams. “He and Keeley are very much in love, but they will not admit to  each other, least of all themselves.”

Roy says, “Oi!” while Keeley blushes. Jan shrugs.

“It’s true,” he says. “There is no point in dancing around it.”

“Fuck off!” says Roy, and Jan and Dani are saved from certain death by head-butt as Keeley steps between them and says, “It’s nice to meet you! We’re so glad you could come,” and wraps you in a tight hug.

She’s small, but she’s strong. You have trouble breathing for a moment in the best possible way.

“Heard you work for Dr. Sharon,” she says. “That’s got to be fucking difficult.”

You laugh. “Yeah, but not in the way you’d think,” you say. “I’d already sold my soul to my education long before I met her. She’s actually trying to help me get it back.”

Keeley grins. “Is that why you’re here then? To reinstate your soul?”

You’re cut off from replying by the appearance of someone new. This one is in Sharon’s picture too, standing in the middle slightly to the left and smiling with the tip of his tongue sticking out. You always thought he seemed like one who looked so happy and carefree because he actively chose to be that way.

“Who’s reinstatin’ their soul?” he asks, squeezing in between Dani and Keeley.

“This one here,” Keeley replies. “You met her yet? She’s Dr. Fieldstone’s protégé.”

“Oh,” you say. “No. Not really. I was just doing my internship with her, but I had to move because…” you hesitate.

“Because no one wanted to talk to her except me and Jan,” Dani helpfully fills in. 

Jan adds, “They were all intimidated by the fact that she is close to their age and so beautiful, as well stuck in their ways of having Dr. Sharon. Only Dani and I were willing to give her a chance, and she actually helped me through some important life decisions.”

You had? It hadn’t seemed that way at the time. You feel less crappy about your time at Nelson Road, though. It wasn’t like they didn’t like you, they just preferred to stick with what they know. That, you can understand.

“Mint,” Jamie says. “So you ain’t the team’s shrink anymore?”

Roy rolls his eyes. “Fucking observant, you are. She hasn’t been around in fucking ages.”

Jamie shrugs. “I was just checking!” he says defensively.

You smile. “It’s alright,” you say. “I’m sure you’re busy, and there’s always a lot of people coming and going.”

That seems to surprise Jamie. Almost as if he isn’t used to people defending him. You file his reaction away in your brain, adding it to your collection of knowledge about the football team that made Sharon zip across England for.

—

It’s been two and a half hours, and you’ve have more food and laughter than you’ve had in ages. Dani and Jan Maas had left your circle in the kitchen a while ago, fulfilling their promise to chase around the youngest Higgins boys as well as Roy’s niece Phoebe, and another girl who’s name you didn’t catch. Sam has joined your group now, and he and Jamie are funny together in a way that reminds you of your brothers. They’re constantly ragging on each other, teasing Roy, and throwing things.

Jamie, it seems, is the comedian of the group. You can tell he’s showing off, presumably because there’s a new face. When it’s time to eat, he says, “Stick with me, love, that way you don’t get stuck next to some uncultured animal,” even though Sharon is there and you’d be fine to sit with any of the boys.

But, he’s already grabbed your hand and is pulling you to a spot near Roy and Keeley as Sharon looks on with an amused expression. You send her a single pleading glance (although you’re not sure what you’re pleading for) and she just gives you a shooing motion. She’s happy to sit with Rebecca and her boyfriend. And someone who’s name you’re pretty sure is Coach Beard. 

Ever the gentleman, Jamie pulls out your chair for you before settling into his own. There are tables all throughout the house and a few in the front yard, and you’re glad he picked one outside. It’s a little cloudy, but nice weather.

And god, there are people. People who are talking to you, hugging you, tapping you on the arm and holding your hand, even if it is just to make sure you don’t get separated in the stampede to find seating. Your arms aren’t even a little sore, and you can feel Sharon’s observing eyes on you. You know for a fact she’s going to have a lot to say next time you have dinner, but for now all you can think about is the way Jamie’s arm is pressed against yours, as he leans in to explain a football term that Roy just used to threaten Jamie with.

—

You’re not sure how long this party is supposed to last, but it’s three hours later and there is no sign of stopping. The sun is just barely starting to dip, and time has lost all meaning. You don’t know if the meal you ate was supposed to be lunch or dinner but it doesn’t matter because you’re so full that you can barely make room for the pile of desserts that Mrs. Higgins has pulled out. 

You’ve moved inside now, since Jamie pulled you through the dessert line saying, “You have to come with me, so I can put my dessert on your plate. That way grandad can’t have a fit.” You understand that “grandad” is Roy.

You’re smart enough to notice that Jamie’s hand is in yours at every opportunity he can find, and that he’s still holding it even though you’ve finished your dessert and are flopped on a couch inside. He’s absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb as you chatter on about nothing. 

“Oi,” he says, when you’ve lapsed into silence, “is this alright?”

You’re not sure what he means until he holds up your still-intertwined hands.

“Keeley says I’m more touchy than most. Don’t want to fuckin’ weird you out or some shit.”

You smile. “You’re fine. It’s actually really nice.” You decide to leave it at that. No point in explaining touch-deprivation to the cute footballer you just met. Talk about oversharing.

Jamie smiles back, a real one that lights up his whole face.

“Mint,” he says.

—

“Jamie’s romantically interested in you,” says Sharon’s voice through the phone.

“How do you know that?” you ask. It’s the morning after the Higgins party and you only have a 2pm session. Sharon texted you to call her as soon as you woke up, so you do and she drops a bombshell on the first ring. You doubt Jamie would have told her this himself, as Dr. Fieldstone isn’t one to break a confidence.

“Basic body language,” she replies. “Repeated physical contact, the way his body was angled toward yours all day, the fact that he went out of his way to make you smile. All classic markers of romantic attraction. Any trained therapist should be able to pick up on it.”

What she means is, you’re a trained therapist. You should be picking up on it.

“There’s no way,” you say, but it comes out more doubtful than you’d hoped. 

“Right,” says Sharon, “there’s no way. In the same way that there’s no way I’m only mentoring you because I see myself in you.”

“Oh,” you reply weakly, because that’s a lot to unpack. 

“Oh,” she mimics. “Right. Well. I’ve got to go. Make sure you remember the mental exercises I gave you. Therapists need to take care of their minds too.”

You say thanks and hang up. 

Oh.

—

You’re home again from your session, and you are tired. It was mentally exhausting and all you can think about are the pair of sweatpants in the drawer by your bed and the box of pizza that should be at your flat in fifteen-to-twenty minutes. That was about thirteen minutes ago, and you’ve just been puttering about since placing the call and changing out of work clothes. 

There’s a knock on the door and you say a quiet yes, before hurrying to answer. You open the door to two people on your doorstep instead of one.

“This your pizza?” the delivery boy asks. You nod, thank him, and hand him the money. He’s gone so you acknowledge the other person in front of you.

“How’d you know where I live?”

Jamie shrugs. “Asked Dr. Fieldstone. She isn’t as scary as she looks.”

“And why are you here?”

You place the pizza down on the small table in your entryway. It hasn’t escaped your notice that Jamie is practically standing in your doorframe now, inches away from you.

He wraps his hands in the front of his shirt. “Isaac was telling me about body science,” he says. “Been teaching me how to read people and shit based on how they move.”

You nod. Body language. Yeah, you know a thing or two about that.

“Anyway, he said you thought I was proper fit. Which is good, because I think you’re proper fit. But, just in case he were wrong, I thought I’d come over and give you a chance to tell me.”

His left hand is on the doorframe now, and you can see the top of his tattoo peeking out from under his bright orange hoodie. There is exactly one inch between you two as he slants his body toward yours.

“You can tell me to bugger off, if you want,” he murmurs. “Won’t hurt my feelings.”

You don’t say anything, just stand on your toes the tiniest bit so he has better access to your mouth. 

You can feel his breath when he pulls away.

“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t come here for sex. Me mum raised a gentleman. I’d buy you a coupla dinners first.”

“Shut up and kiss me already, Tartt,” you say, and he’s grinning, free hand cupping the back of your head.

—

You think that’s probably the fastest you’ve ever gotten into a relationship.

“Labels are important, babe,” Jamie had said that night. “How else will you know if food is poisonous?”

You’re pretty sure he’s talking about checking for allergens, but you don’t correct him. You’re on your couch watching a movie with his arm around your shoulders. He’s playing with strands of your hair and it’s strange that you’re this comfortable with a boy you just met yesterday.

Because he is a boy. You’re the same age, but you feel impossibly, inadequately young. He plays it off as youthful exuberance, and you’re sure it’s an advantage on the pitch. Your age doesn’t feel like an advantage to you, but you can’t change it so you might as well just deal with what you’ve got.

You can be professional in the morning, but right now you’ve got a cute, fit boy who thinks you’re cute and fit and so far has not given off red flags. You’re extra alert ever since your call with Sharon, trying to pick up on every subtlety, but you stop trying as soon as Jamie rolls up a piece of pizza like a burrito and tries to fit it all in his mouth. You know that Sharon would have been the first to tell you if this was a bad idea, and the fact that she even told you Jamie was interested is basically like her giving her blessing.

Jamie leaves too soon, but he does so with your number in his phone and the promise of “a proper date,” as soon as you both can manage.

—

“A proper date,” turned into two proper dates, then three, then four, then seeing each other steadily throughout the weeks, then your first sleepover after the third week. Your skin was all tingly when Jamie invited you over to his for dinner, telling you he was going to cook for you. You knew exactly what was going to happen that night and made sure you were prepared. 

You dressed nice, in clothes that gave him easy access to your skin underneath. 

“Am I rushing this?” you had asked Sharon the day before. “I’m asking you as my mentor. Am I being an idiot?”

Sharon had taken a moment to consider before answering. “You’re smart for your age. And wise beyond your years. I don’t think you’re being an idiot. We can’t let our work consume us, no matter how important it is. You’re a brilliant therapist. You’re always giving yourself away to those around you. You deserve something for yourself, and you know how to pick a good one.”

You hugged her for those words. She seemed startled, but accepted it. You didn’t think life could get much better. 

You were wrong. You discovered life could be so much better the moment Jamie’s hand slid under your skirt and you were kicking off your shoes on the way up the stairs. 

“Stay,” he whispered when you were done. “It’s fuckin’ late anyway. You can use my shower and wear one of my shirts. I have an extra toothbrush. I fucking hate sleeping alone.”

So you’re in one of his t-shirts and your underwear, arms wrapped around Jamie’s waist. 

You think what am I doing? but Jamie presses a soft, sleepy kiss to your temple and you think maybe you’re doing something right.

—

It’s been a hell of a week. You’re swamped, Jamie’s always at training, and neither of you have been able to make the time to see the other in days. Your inner arms are sore again, and your dinners with Sharon have been short and extremely clinical in a way you desperately need. However, once-a-week therapy is not enough to get rid of the feeling you have, and you wake up throughout the night holding your pillow as if it were Jamie. 

You’ve gotten used to having his hand in yours, your head on his shoulder, knees touching and arms wrapped tight around your body. Having it taken away is worse than before, because at least then you didn’t really know what you were missing. Now, you feel as if you’re going to die unless someone does something, even if it’s just a high-five. 

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, one knee pulled up to your chest as you review case notes. Your food has gone cold because all you can do is cry. You’re so tired and so lonely and it shouldn’t be this way, but it is and you’re just over it. There’s a knock at the door so you wipe your eyes and answer it, hoping you look normal.

It’s Jamie.

The moment you register who it is, you’re launching yourself into his arms, wrapping around him like a spider monkey. He laughs. “Hello to you too,” he says, spinning you around. He stops when he feels you shaking in his arms. 

“Oi,” he says, frowning a little, “you alright, love?”

He can feel tears on his neck.

“Babe,” he says, “did something happen at work?”

You shake your head, face still buried into the crook of his neck. “I just missed you,” you croak, voice muffled.

Jamie chuckles at that. You’re lucky he’s strong, because he’s able to carry you to the couch like it’s nothing, kicking the door shut behind him without losing his balance. He settles with you in his arms, rubbing a pattern on your back. 

“It’s alright, love, I’m here,” he says, and you’ve never been more grateful for the fact that he calls you love more than your actual name. It’s like he’s always reminding you how he feels about you.

You just hold him tighter, letting the terrible feeling you had all week fade away. When it’s mostly gone, you pull away so you can look him in the face.

“I- I have this thing,” you say. Jamie looks concerned.

“Are you dyin’?” he asks.

“No!” you reply. “No, I’m not dying. I have- I’m touch-deprived. I let it get really bad sometimes and then I can physically feel it. You can look it up, it’s a real thing.” You don’t know why you feel the need to defend yourself. Jamie’s just looking at you, all quiet seriousness.

“That what it’s called?” he asks. “I know what you mean. Fucking had it two years ago. Used to egg Roy on just so he’d push me around and the lads’d have to hold me back. Wasn’t near me mum anymore, so I didn’t have anyone to hug me or anything. Sounds dumb, but… I just needed someone to touch me. Like if they didn’t, it meant I didn’t exist. Fucking mental.”

“Mental,” you agree.

Jamie smiles. “You’re the fucking best, you know that?” he asks. “I’m never bored when I’m with you. Came over to see if you wanted to watch a movie or play video games.” 

He’s stroking your cheek with one hand, other still wrapped around your back.

You smile back. “I really, really love you Jamie Tartt. I’ll play video games, I just don’t want to play FIFA.”

Jamie’s smile drops. “Shit,” he says, and you think it’s because you don’t want to play his favorite video game. “You weren’t supposed to say it first, I was. I was gonna tell you tonight anyway.”

“It’s not a big deal, babe,” you say.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s a big fuckin’ deal. Now I’ve got to make it up to you.”

“No you don’t,” you say.

“Yes I do,” he replies. “I’m gonna tell you every fucking day how much I love you. I’ll drive home early from away games just to hug you. I want you to always feel like you have the love you deserve.”

You’re at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue, don’t it?” Jamie asks cheekily. “Not a problem, babe. I know how to get it back.”

[nekosounds]

Mafia!Rhea Ripley x reader

Summary: Being broke with a dead end job, you thought your life was going to stay this way. That was, until you met Rhea Ripley, the queen of the mafia.

----------

After spending most of my money on rent, I went to the one place I knew I could get a meal for cheap. The local pizza parlor sold pizza slices that were days old for a cheap price. It was always lukewarm and chewy on the best of days, but it’s better than starving.

As I enter the place, I notice a familiar sight of a woman with slick, black hair and a casual suit. Rhea Ripley, the infamous mafia queen. Usually I’d catch her glance once or twice. But for the past few weeks, she’s been staring me down. I try to avoid her, I’m already broke as is. The last thing I need is to be indebted to the mafia queen herself.

Walking up to the counter to order, my eyes widened at the price. Instead of the usual $1 per old slice, it was now $3!

“Shit.” I sigh. With only $2 to my name, there's no way I could afford to eat now. Just as I was about to walk out, an arm blocks my path. I look up to see none other than Rhea Ripley herself.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Rhea asks me. I feel my mouth go dry. What does she want with me? Can she see that I’m desperate and broke? Is she gonna make me loan myself out to her? “I’m starting to get impatient, princess. So I’ll ask again. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Um…I-I don’t have enough to pay for a meal.” I say, “Surely I’m not welcome here if I can’t pay.”

Rhea nods. But instead of letting me go like I hoped, she grabs my hand and pulls me to a table. One in the back that I usually saw her and her men sit at.

“Sit.” She commands. I do as she tells me. She smirks at this, “Good girl. I like the obedient ones.” She says, making my face flush. She sits down next to me, our thighs practically touching from how close she is. “Now, order anything you want. Food, drink, desserts. Anything. It’s on me.” She said.

“B-But I don’t want you to spend money on me.” I say, feeling like this was the start of me having to owe her something. But she just rolls her eyes.

“Sweetheart, I own this place. It won’t cost a single dime. Now order and eat.” She says before leaning in close to my face. “That’s an order.”

I nod. Feeling both scared, and aroused? Her commanding me makes me feel oddly good. And I want to do what she tells me to do. I want to make her happy. So I order a decent meal for myself. And she looks pleased.

The food arrives fast, and I don’t have a single doubt as to why that is. As I start eating, Rhea starts a conversation.

“So sweetheart, I see you around here quite often. Ordering the cheapest thing we have on the regular. Why is that?” She asks.

I start to explain everything to her. My job, my shitty boss, how he only pays me when he feels like it. And when he does, it’s always never enough. And how nowhere else is hiring, so I’m stuck at this crappy, dead end job.

She listens to me with interest. And I don’t know why, but I feel so comfortable telling her all of this. Once I finish my sob story, she smirks at me.

“How about I make you an offer?” She asks. I feel my skin turn pale. I knew this was going to happen. I’m going to be indebted to people I will never be able to pay back! Rhea notices my fear.

“Oh don’t look so scared, princess. I promise you’ll like this offer.” She says, leaning in closer to whisper in my ear. “How about you quit that shitty, no good job of yours…And you come with me?” She chuckles, her warm breath on my ear making me shiver.

“Like to be your servant or your maid?” I ask, unsure of what she meant. She chuckles again.

“No sweetheart. I don’t want you as a servant, or a maid, or anything like that. I just simply want you to be…mine.” She leans in closer with every word she speaks. Her lips are now barely touching. “I’ll treat you like royalty. You can have whatever you want, whenever you want. In return, I get to keep you all to myself…How does that sound?” She asks.

I’m at a loss for words. The deal sounds so nice, surely there must be a catch? But I can’t think of one right now. All I can think of is how beautiful she is, and how badly I want to kiss her.

“C-Can I…” Before I could finish, she leans in and kisses me. My hands clutch at her short, black hair. And her hands trail up and down my back, pulling me closer to her until I was sitting on her lap. Once we finally pull back for air, Rhea laughs.

“So, I take that as a yes?” She asks before trailing a few kisses down my neck. I nod ini response. “I want your voice, baby.” She says, “I want to hear you say it. Say that you belong to me.”

“I-I belong to you, Rhea.” I say, my voice wavering as she kisses down my neck some more. “I belong to you and only you. No one else.”

“Good girl~” Rhea chuckles and pulls back. “From now on, you’ll be treated so well. I’ll give you whatever you want, baby, just stay loyal to me, and I’ll treat you like the princess that you are.” She says before pulling me into another kiss.

As we continue to kiss, Rhea makes plans in her head. She wants what’s best for her baby, that’s for sure. And to start off, why not take care of that shitty boss of hers? The man owes her money anyways, having him six feet under means nothing to her. Besides, what her baby doesn’t know can't hurt her.

[theemporium]

how about 💰with famous!eddie? he could be a rockstar or maybe he’s made it big in the hockey world! whatever creative licenses you want to take is perfect!

maybe something with them having been apart for a little while and just wanting to spoil his girl now that he’s back? fancy dinner and nice music, some good old romance and fluff. <3

- 🦇

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Eddie, this is too much.”

“Nonsense.” 

“There aren’t even prices on the menu,” you murmured in a hushed voice as you leaned over the table, staring at him with wide eyes. The restaurant was dimly lit and intimate, and far fancier than you could ever imagine choosing—let alone affording. “The food is all written in French!”

“Calme-toi, mon amour,” Eddie grinned back at you, the French passing past his lips with ease. But you guessed after a world tour or two, it would make sense that he would pick up a few phrases in other languages here and there. “Just enjoy it.”

“Ordering a pizza would have been fine too,” you said to him, something in your stomach twisting at the idea that maybe he expected you to want this. 

“But then I wouldn’t get to see you in that killer dress, baby,” Eddie retorted. “And that would have been a tragedy.” 

Eddie Munson, a joker at heart even if his name was blasted over billboards and stadiums across the world.

Eddie Munson, your dinner date even when he had half the world throwing themselves at his feet of the most renowned rockstar in the music industry today.

He had just finished the North American stint of his tour and he had a gap between he headed down to South America and then Europe. And as much as he begged and pleaded, you couldn’t join him around the country which led to a very needy boy who was desperate to spend every possible moment with you. 

But the boy never did anything half-assed. He was never one to flaunt his money or throw it around, but when it came to you? The boy pulled all the stops. He dolled you up a new outfit he bought earlier that day, treated you with more gifts than you could count before dragging you to the fancy restaurant uptown that you couldn’t even afford to step foot in, let alone dine. 

But this was Eddie Munson and he wanted to give you the world.

“I would’ve worn it for you at home,” you told him, the words light-hearted but the truth still lacing your voice. “All you had to do was ask.”

His eyes darkened. “That is all I have to do?”

“If you asked nicely, I might’ve even let you pick what I wore underneath,” you teased as you reached for the glass of wine, taking a sip as your gaze caught his over the rim.

“Don’t do this, baby,” Eddie groaned, though there was a smile on his face. “You’re gonna make me ask for the bill before the starters come out.” 

You grinned. “Maybe that was a part of my plan.”

He raised his brows. “You have a plan?”

“A girl’s guide to seducing a rockstar,” you told with him a nod of your head. “So far, it’s been working out quite well. I might make the thing my autobiography.”

Eddie’s face broke out into a massive grin and it made your chest feel funny. “If you want a quote, I can happily tell you how effective methods have been.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it in a chapter if I have the space,” you retorted. 

Eddie couldn’t help himself as he reached over the table, taking one of your hands in his as he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm. “Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?”

Your cheeks burned. “Eddie—”

“No, I mean it, baby,” he said, the sincerity of his emotions evident in his eyes. “All of it wouldn’t be worth it without you. The fame and the touring and the music—you keep me grounded. You make it easy.”

Your chest tightened as you squeezed his hand. “I wanna keep being that for you.” 

“Oh I’m not letting you go anytime soon,” Eddie said with a laugh, placing another kiss on your knuckles. “You’re my inspiration. Which artist gets rid of their muse?” 

“An artist that takes their muse to a restaurant where the bread rolls cost more than her rent,” you retorted playfully.

“Yeah, it’s a bit much,” Eddie laughed before giving you a look, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “What do you say I pay the bill and we ditch this place? Get some pizza on the way back to eat so I can enjoy that dress of yours when we get home.”

“I’d say you’re gonna have to carry me because these heels are killing my feet.”

Eddie grinned. “Anything for my muse.”

.

[wayfayrr]

I see your human!reader and raise you: the Chain struggling to find food they can actually eat, reader feeling terrible and maybe a bit like a burden because of it, and getting into a dangerous situation in order to make it up to them

Source: the Owl House :)

I'm so sorry that this took so long to answer!! I've been quite busy recently but while I haven't watched the owl house I hope this does what you wanted justice, it got out of hand the more I wrote!!! I've heard it's great I just don't really watch shows :( Fair warning this got way more angsty then I planned for it too, with reader being pretty flippant about their own safety than they really should be, there's a brief not very detailed description of gore too. (it's also fairly wars centric towards the end)

[masterlist]

“[Name]! So wind and I’ve just been to the village right? I think I’ve finally found something I can cook that you should be able to eat! It was quite expensive but I’m sure it’ll be worth it for you!” 

“We looked around for ages, so if you can’t eat this then there might not be anything in Hyrule that you can eat!”

Wind means well with what he’s saying; I know that Wild does too, they don’t mean to make me feel bad - I think they don’t anyway. Not like they really need to try with how much of a burden to them I am. Buying expensive supplies just for me? When they’re already struggling to afford their own basic supplies, now I’m just adding unnecessary costs for them. Don’t get me started with the looks of pity they give me either. 

“Thank you both but, please don’t go spending so much on me.”

“But we have to find something you can eat, you’ll just be a… It’s not good for you to starve!”

That - that’s the closest any of them have gotten to saying it outright, they really do just see me as a burden - they aren’t even trying to hide it now. No wonder I’ve always been kept to the side in any fights, Hyrule can’t heal me so I’d just be deadweight if I got hurt, I can’t fight like they can really all I’m good for is as a meat shield to defend them from magic. “Hey [name], are you alright? You zoned out a bit there…”

“Oh, yeah I just - I think I just need to have some time alone if that’s alright? I’ll make sure to stay in distance of the camp.”

“As long as you’re careful and not there too long, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll tell the others for you.”

I hope he doesn’t.

He seemed content with how I nodded at him, so I should be in the clear to go and just vanish for a while even if it’s just to pretend I’m not causing them issues for a little while.

It doesn’t feel like it takes me long to get to a nice place to sit, so it should still be pretty close to camp - not that they should be worried for me. Somewhere nice and open to sit next to a gentle babbling brook, it’s calm and I’m alone, everything I need at the moment.

Shit - how did I not see a sleeping lynel!? No no, not now I don’t even have a weapon! … What if I did kill it though - their parts can be sold for a fortune… I could pay my way and prove I’m not just useless. Even if I don’t - well they won’t have to worry about me in that case.

It hasn’t seemed to notice me yet, maybe there’s a chance I can come back from it. If I just stay low and as silent as I can then I should be able to jump it. 

Stay quiet, take its weapon. Wow, that’s a lot lighter than Wild makes it out to be. Now to just - Just go for its neck! I - I actually managed to slit its throat!

IT’S STILL ALIVE!?

Okay. OKAY! Its movements are sluggish and it seems to be bleeding out so just get away from it - 

Why - why can’t I feel my arm properly? Why is my shoulder so wet all of a -! The pain hit harder than a truck every nerve on my left side feels like it’s being set ablaze, there wasn’t a single hope of keeping in the scream I just let out, one I didn’t even realise had ripped its way from my throat. Tilting my head down to see the cause; suddenly my body feeling nothing but raw visceral pain suddenly makes a lot more sense than before. The stupid thing cut half through my shoulder with my arm now hanging limply by my side. 

“[NAME]! WHAT ARE YOU DOING - YOU’VE BEEN MISSING FOR HOURS - WHAT Did you - [name]!?”

Wars is here..? Didn’t Wild say I was going off for a bit? Why would he be looking for me? I can’t be worth so much that he’d go off on his own to look for me.

“Oh goddesses [name] what - no, no, no stay awake, you’ve got to stay with me darling.”

“‘m awake… ‘m - still ‘ere…”

Is that really what I sound like right now…  I sound so slurred… like - like how people on tv sounded when they were. Oh.

I’m bleeding out and delirious then, no wonder Wars is ‘here’, he’s just my brain giving me one last happy memory before I kick the bucket. Isn’t that wonderful, to spend my last moments hallucinating my unreciprocated crush caring for me. Closing my eyes feels all too easy, even when I’m about to drift off it still feels as if he’s holding me, maybe this won’t be too bad?

“[Name] don’t you DARE close your eyes, you - I’m not losing anyone else I care about - I can't lose you… I haven't even-”

A harsh slap to the face after a shaky breath - one that feels all too real - has me reconsidering things, the feeling of something tears dropping onto my face is the thing that finally has me opening my eyes despite how hard it is to do so. 

“I - I have some bandages, a potio- no that’s not going to help you I’ve got bandages I just need you to talk to me while I use them, so I know you aren’t close to passing out. You’re going to make it out of this - I need you to make it out of this.”

The agony of him adjusting my arm to bind it, well it’s proof that I am still very much alive. If he really wants me to talk… well then I might as well try to get some answers out of him.

“Why - why ‘re you - wh’ ‘d you come lookin’ fr me?”

“You - vanished for hours without a word, did you really think none of us would get worried? Even if none of the others would, I will always come for you.”

“Hm’ wild said he w’s gonna tell the rs’ o’ you… b’sides ‘m just a burden ‘nt I? Wil’ pretty muh said i’.”

“...Wild. but why would he risk - he wouldn’t put you in the… Don’t worry about what wild says he’s lying, you’re not a burden, even if you were. You’re one I would choose to carry every day for the rest of my life without a single regret. Don’t let what he says get to you, darling.”

Murderous, that’s the best way I could hope to describe the look on his face, it’s like he wants wild dead. His bandages seem to have stopped the bleeding though, so while I still feel lightheaded I should live as long as the wound doesn’t get infected. 

“Wai’ why’r you callin’ me darlin’? ‘M not - you’r…”

A little smirk crossed his face then barely lasting long enough for me to just notice it before it was replaced by concern, did I forget something, I mean it’s not impossible that I also hit my head right? Right?

“But you’re my partner, honeybee, we’ve been together for a few days now - you - you can’t have forgotten that right? If that’s the only price for you surviving, I mean we can always just make better memories. You - You’re still alive and that’s the most important thing.”

Well that’s not impossible, I know I’ve had feelings for him for a while so if he did ask I would’ve said yes…

“We can remake the memories later after you recover. You know I’m so glad that human blood flows slower than ours, those precious few extra seconds are literally lifesaving.”

He’s just babbling to himself now, must’ve been stressed over me; now that I’m safer it’s all just draining out of him. The way he’s clinging to me and shaking shows that fairly well too, like he doesn’t plan to let me out of his arms for a long while. 

“Please never do this ever again, I don’t even know what you were planning but you could’ve died [name], you could’ve died and I wouldn’t have had a chance to say goodbye. Please you have to explain why when you’re better. Please promise me you’ll tell me why.”

“I will Wars, I swear.”

“...That’s all I needed to hear, thank you darling.”

[dbnightingale24]

React

A Stepcest love story about Jim

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Because why not? I have a million other stories to update, so why not add another one to the list? I've been working on this story for a while, but I've been anxious to upload it. I've decided to go back to my old ways (for this story only) and not give you guys a novel. We're gonna do this bit by bit. I have more than enough to post the full story, but I know a good amount of people haven't seen it. As always, thank you to @fuckingbye for an amazing moodboard! I think the world of you, and I can't wait to hug you again, and cry entirely too much over life. ANYWHO, let's get started, shall we?

P.S. The playlist is going to be the same for this entire story. K, lets go!

Word Count: 3,514

Warnings: Swearing, Family Drama, Stepdaughter/Step Father interest, Drinking, Drinking Relapse, MINORS DNI, Emotional Cheating...I think that's it for now?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You're Turning Me Cruel Cause I'm Just Wanting You To React

Summary: You and and your Mother have never had the best relationship, but the both of you have always tried. However, when she invites you to stay, and you're met with the last surprise you were expecting, will any progress be made? Or will it just get worse? Catastrophically worse.

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I do not give permission/consent for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior/relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

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Chapter 1

It wasn’t exactly exciting, going home for Summer Holiday, but the thought of getting your own place just feels too daunting . Yes, graduation is coming up soon, but with the cost of everything as it is, you’d much rather wait until you actually have to rent one. Yes, you’re Mother is the last person you want to spend any time with, but who knows? Maybe she finally got a handle on her drinking?

Yeah, that’s likely.

As you knock on her door, you shift nervously from foot to foot, and you don’t know why. It doesn’t matter that you two rarely talk, or rarely see each other, she’s still your Mother.

Whether she likes it or not.

“Hello,” a man greets with a soft smile once he opens the door.

Well, hello to you too.

“Hi, I’m looking for Y/M/N? Last I was told, she still lives here.”

“She does,” he laughs softly, standing aside to let you in, “she ran off to the store. She wanted to be back by the time you got here. She’s been anxious,” he confesses softly, closing the door. 

You give him a look over as you place your bags down, and you can’t help but marvel at how handsome he is. He has beautiful ocean blue eyes, a slender physique (but you can tell there’s some muscle there), black hair that’s starting to gray a bit that you just wanna run your hands through and, lastly, a gold band on his finger.

Pause. There’s no way...oh, fuck no.

“What’s your name?” you ask with a kind smile, though your mind is racing a million miles a minute. 

“Jim. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“That wouldn’t be because you’re married to my lovely Mother, is it?” you question, and he softly shakes his head.

“She wanted you to be here.”

“Oh, I bet she did,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I bet she fucking did. Do you want a drink? I want a drink.”

“She doesn’t keep booze-” “Oh yes she does, you just have to know where to look,” you smirk, making your way into the kitchen. “How long have you two been married?”

“About a year.”

“Well, God bless you,” you mutter, stomping around on the kitchen floor. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gone all saintlike on me now,” you scowl, before finally stomping on the hollow tile. “If there’s one person I know, it’s my Mother,” you scowl with a nod, before crouching down and picking at the at the worn tile. “So, how did you two lovebirds meet?”

“Maybe it would be best if she told you,” he mumbles as you pull up the tile on the floor. 

“I’m gonna level with ya, Jim. My Mother and I? Not the best relationship. So, whatever she says, I’m not gonna believe her. Hell, she’s been married a year and I’m just finding out about it. So,” you huff, standing on your feet once you’ve dug out the bottle of whiskey from the floor, and recovering the hole with the tile, “how’d you two meet?”

“At a bar,” he tells you, seemingly shocked that you actually did find a bottle. “Someone I used to see worked there. Her and I broke up and soon enough I started seeing your Mother.”

“I’m guessing things went well if you married her,” you mutter, grabbing two glasses.

Do you mean to turn her world upside down? No. However, it doesn’t change the fact that your world has been turned upside down, and you can’t help but be a little irritated by it.

Irritated by her.

“Do you have a drinking problem too?” you ask, pouring you both a drink, “don’t wanna mess up anyone’s progress or lack of,” you scoff.

You really don’t mean to be rude to the handsome man, this is just the last thing you expected.

“No, but-”

“Well, lets work on that,” you laugh humorlessly as you raise your glass to cheers him. 

Once again, it’s not the handsome stranger’s fault, but you’re also caught completely off guard.

“Has she cut down on drinking?” you ask, after taking a sip.

“She really hasn’t started drinking since she told me you were coming home for Holiday.”

“That makes an awful lot of sense. I handle her about as well as she handles me. She didn’t give you a warning?”

“She just said that things will be tense for a few days, but things will smooth out.”

“ ‘Things will smooth out’. Well, that’s one way of putting it. Well, Jim..Dad,” you scoff humorlessly, “I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this,” you mumble as the front door unlocks. 

“Honey, is she...oh,” your Mother sighs as he closes the door.

She’s more than likely seen the bags by the door. 

“I wanted to be here when you first got here, but I realized I forgot a few things at the market and had to...ah,” she mutters, taking note of both you and Jim drinking whiskey.

How the hell else did she think this was gonna go?

“I know what it looks like, but it’s not-”

“If you’d have told me, I would’ve gotten you a wedding gift,” you laugh as you raise a glass to her. 

“I didn’t want you to be mad.”

“You got married and this is the first time I’m hearing about it. What reaction did you think you were going to get?”

“I just knew you wouldn’t get it. I know we’ve been through a lot, but once you get to know him-”

“I don’t need a Father, Mum,” you shrug before finishing off your drink. “I’m not even trying to be a cunt. I’ve just gone all these years without one, and I’m a full grown adult now. I just would’ve appreciated a heads up,” you shrug before pouring yourself another glass. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

You’re quick to grab your bags in the entry way, and finally make your way upstairs. You only make it three up three steps before an argument breaks out. You take a deep breath before continuing your way up the stairs. You know what’s coming, and you know it’s gonna last for the entirety of the Summer. God, if only you knew how much damage you’d truly done.

You would’ve never come home for the Summer.

**

“I don’t want to argue,” Jim sighs, clearly exasperated, “I just wish you would’ve told me! I’m coming into this looking like the bad guy.”

“Of course, make it all about you,” your Mother slurs and you roll your eyes.

They’ve been arguing since you’ve retreated to your old bedroom. You truly didn’t mean to start an argument between the two of them. Despite what your Mother believes, you do want her to be happy, but you’re just tired of her shit. At this point, it truly feels like she goes out of her way to make things complicated, and there’s no fucking reason for it. She always needs to paint someone else as the bad guy and, for as much as she may love Jim right now, she will make him the bad guy if she thinks it’ll workout better for her in the end. 

“Honey-”

“I’m meeting up with Rose. Don’t wait up,” she slurs as she storms out, slamming the door shut behind her.

Somewhere deep, deep, down inside, you do feel bad. However, it’s not bad enough for you to actually apologize to her. Yes, you’re used to her bullshit, but this? This is a new level of audacity, even for her. Not to mention, you do feel bad for Jim. You know absolutely nothing about the man, so he may be complete and total scum, but you do know she won him over with a personality built on lies. However, you truly didn’t mean to drag him into you and your Mother’s years and years of drama.

Which is why you’re now picking up your empty glass and making your way downstairs, taking a deep breath as you reach the last step.

Can’t hurt to get to know the man that’s apparently your new stepfather. 

“I’m sorry about that,” you greet as you make your way into the kitchen, taking a seat at the small table.

“It’s not your fault she kept things from me.”

“While that is true, I didn’t have to burst your bubble like that. You two had a life, and I just came in and made a mess of it. When it comes to my Mother, no one ever seems to make me as angry as she does.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that angry before,” he laughs halfheartedly.

There’s an awkward silence, so you take the moment to pour the both of you a drink.

“She told me that you’re in your last year of Uni?”

“Yeah, so it’s about time for me to find my own place. The price of everything is just so damn high right now,” you sigh, finally looking over at him.

No, you’re not exactly a fan of your Mother going out and getting married without a word to you, but you have to commend her on her taste in men.

The man is gorgeous.

“You’re not wrong, I don’t know how your Mum was able to afford this place before I moved in.”

“Her parents. My grandparents kind of always took care of us, because shes always been a wild child and they never really trusted her to be able to make a stable living. When they died, they left her everything. Including this house,” you mumble, swirling the dark brown liquid around in your glass. “Lets table the talk about the crazy lady for a bit though,” you smirk and he chuckles, “tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Is this your first go at marriage? What do you do for a living? Any kids? Fill me in on all the basic information I should know,” you shrug, cocking an eyebrow.

“I’ve got two kids, this is my second time being married, and I’m a writer.”

“Your second time getting married, and you chose my Mum? I’d really love to know how she won you over.”

“She loves does love you, Y/N.”

“In her own way, yes she does. However, you’ll come to find this Summer that, that love will drive you mad. You’ll find out just how strong your love is for her.”

“Well, what’s so wrong with you?”

“God, if I knew, I would tell you,” you laugh before taking another sip of your drink. “I think I just remind her of failure, which is fine by me, honestly. I learned to accept it early on, and we’ve both been better for it. I call her on Christmas and her birthday, and that’s enough. She calls when she remembers or when she’s drunk and sad, but I barely heard from her this past year and I assume that’s because of you. Thanks for that.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, I genuinely mean that. You’ve made her happy and I appreciate that. I’ll try not to stay long-”

“She does want you here,” he interjects sincerely before taking a sip of his drink.

“Not as much as you’d think she would. You are her do-over, and I could easily ruin that for her. My best friend lives close by and I wasn’t gonna ask to stay with her, cause she has a daughter so space is limited, but I will. I know she’ll be more than happy to have me, and I miss her like crazy anyway.”

“I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

You stand up and grab your glass and slowly make your way to the counter, “well, you shouldn’t because you’ve done nothin’ wrong. You can’t break or cause more damage to something you had no knowledge of. Have you eaten today?”

“Y/N-”

“It’s alright, Jim. You’re not breaking up some happy Mother/Daughter relationship,” you laugh softly. “Now, have you eaten?”

“I had a light lunch, your Mother said she wanted us all to have dinner together.”

“She has these ideas, and then she gets drunk. Lets see what we have,” you mutter, opening the fridge and bending over to see what your Mother picked up from the store.

You and Jim spend the next hour or getting to know each other as you bake some salmon, make some mashed potatoes, and steam a bit of broccoli. You make sure to make enough for your Mother, because you know by the time she gets back, she’ll be shitfaced and will need something in her stomach as soon as she wakes up tomorrow. 

“You and your Mother have two very different cooking styles,” Jim notices as he leans against the counter, his third glass of whiskey in his hand.

“My grandmother taught me how to cook,” you smile at the memory while taking the salmon out of the oven, opening the foil just a bit to check on it. “My Mother learned how to cook from me and then put her own twist on it.”

“What did your Mother teach you how to do?”

“Umm, I’m really good on skates because of her. That would be our thing on the weekend. She taught me that getting hurt is okay and apart of life, and that I shouldn’t ever fear pain from anything or anyone. That she was right about.”

“She truly was excited about you coming, Y/N.” “I don’t doubt it, but she and I...we’ve always had a difficult relationship. She never wanted to be a parent, and she got to play “big sis” until my grandparents died. I was 12 and she never grew into the roll of being a parent. I used to hate her for it, but I learned to accept it. She kept a roof over my head, food on the table, and attempted to show up to school events. She wants a friend, not a daughter. There’s a reason she never told me about you, can you pass me two plates?” you ask, turning the oven and the stove off. “You seem like a nice guy though, and that’s what she needs. She’s never had a good guy before.”

“What about your Dad?”

“I’ve seen him twice, and both times, he was a complete and total cock. Pardon my language,” you smirk as he laughs. “No, my Mum wasn’t all that great, but at least she stuck around and tried. He only came around for money, both times my grandparents told him no and Mum threatened to break his knee with that fire poker in the other room.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t a good man,” you shrug, starting to plate the food. 

“I feel like I should’ve helped.”

“You kept me company, and that’s just as good as helping,” you smile up at him.

“I should at least set up the table,” he offers, clearing his throat as he stands up right, taking the silverware out of the drawers.

“If you insist.”

“Can’t have you thinking too little of me so soon,” he teases and you scoff. 

“You get a pass for today, it’s been a rough one for you.”

You don’t notice the way his eyes travel over your body, and even if you had, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. He’d had a few drinks and his day went from good to a headache. He wasn’t the first guy to look you over and he wouldn’t be the last.

While he poured more drinks, you grabbed two water bottles out of the fridge, before finally taking a seat across from him at the table. Once again, the conversation flowed effortlessly and, the more you both drank, the harder it got to remember that this man was married to your Mother.

He’s your stepfather. 

When dinner is done, he insists on doing the dishes.

“It’s no big deal-”

“I derailed your day a bit, it’s the least I can do,” he laughs softly as he starts washing off the plates.

“Alright, you have a job, you’re a good Father, you’re good looking...why didn’t your first marriage work out?” you question, leaning against the counter.

You don’t miss the heavy sigh or the way his movements faltered a bit before answering.

“I cheated on my wife with a family friend. She never found out that it was a friend, but it wasn’t hard for her to figure out that I’d been up to something I shouldn’t have been.”

“Ah, so you are capable of making a mistake.”

“You’re not mad at me?” he laughs softly.

“It’s not like you cheated on my Mum, besides, it’s not like her record is perfect.”

“No stern talking to?” he smirks towards you.

“I’m just getting to know you,” you laugh. “She clearly saw something in you and didn’t feel the need to consult me on it. If she trusts you, I’m gonna have to trust that she knows what she’s doing.”

“You are somethin’ else.”

“I get that a lot.”

For just a moment, as both gaze at each other, you forget that there’s a line you shouldn’t be crossing with this man. It was literally just discussed that he’s married to your Mother. That doesn’t seem to matter right now , though. Not when he’s fun, handsome, and looking at you like he wants to get to know every little thing about you.

Well, that is until your Mother comes stumbling through the front door. 

“Fuck!” she exclaims, crashing into the wall.

“I’ll handle it,” you mutter, quickly pushing yourself up from the counter.

You need to get away from him anyway.

“I hope you’re happy,” she slurs as you collect her. “He hates me and it’s your fault. Men always hate me because of you!”

“So happy to be staying here,” you mutter, kicking the door close as you help her stand upright.

“You ran your Father off, my other boyfriends-”

“Did ya eat tonight?”

“As if you give a fuck,” she scowls barely bothering to help you get her up the steps. “Jim is good man-”

“He’s done nothing but sing your praises all bloody night, he’s not goin’ anywhere. Now, stop being difficult and walk with me.”

“I can do it m’damn self!”

“As tempted as I am to let that happen, you’d break ya neck and I’d feel bad. Now, lets go.”

“Bitch.”

“I know,” you sigh.

Lacking both style and grace, you get her up the stairs and unceremoniously into the bed, helping her to get her shoes off as well as her shirt. By the time you pull the covers up over her, she’s snoring. You’re quick to get to the bathroom and fill up one of the disposable cups in there and grab two aspirin, before quickly and quietly making your way back into the bedroom and putting them down on her nightstand. Giving your small kiss on her temple, you quietly make your way out of the room and let out a deep breath. 

There’s no way you can stay here for the entire Summer.

With a look of pure pity written across his face, Jim asks, “are you okay?” once you’re back in the kitchen.

“Nothing I haven’t handled before,” you respond with a defeated smile. “I’ll be out of here by the time both of you are up.”

“Y/N-”

“She’ll be like this for the entire Summer if I stay, which will make the both of us miserable in return.”

“I can talk to her.”

“You’re sweet. I can see why she worked her magic on you.”

“Please-” “Thank you for doing the dishes and putting the food away. Don’t stay up too late,” you smile at him before getting on your tiptoes and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Jim. It was nice meeting you.”

You grab your phone off the table and make your way upstairs, laughing softly and shaking your head at your Mother’s snores which have grown much louder in the short amount of time it took you to get back upstairs. 

Plopping down on your bed with a heavy sigh, you unlock your phone and text the one person you can always count on.

Y/N: I’m sorry it’s so damn late, but would you be okay with me stayin’ with you for the Summer?

Cherry Bomb: Just put your goddaughter down. You know you’re always welcome here! Y/M/N being a cunt?

Y/N: I’ll tell you all about it in the mornin’. Love you and thank you.

Cherry Bomb: I should’ve been ya first stop ;) 

You laugh softly, placing your phone down on your nightstand and turning over to your side, doing your best to ignore the events of the day. You’re half asleep when you hear Jim make his up the stairs and join your Mother in the bedroom. 

‘Soon enough, all of this will be a distant memory,’ you think to yourself as you drift off to sleep.

If only that were true.

~~

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me is so Nesta coded and I’ll die on this hill.

The who's who of "Who's that?" is poised for the attack

You don’t get to tell me about sad

Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream/"Who's afraid of little old me?"/ You should be

The scandal was contained/The bullet had just grazed/At all costs, keep your good name/You don't get to tell me you feel bad

Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one morе joke/Then we could all just laugh until I cry

I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean/ "Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth"

I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me/ You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

You caged me and then you called me crazy/ I am what I am 'cause you trained me

[shadowisles-writes]

High Society 🎩 Elucien Week Day 4

A/N: I struggled hard with finding ideas for today’s prompt and eventually settled for focusing on Lucien’s heritage as a future High Lord. I've been reading angst lately so you’ll have to forgive me for incorporating that in my writing today! I swear it gets happy… eventually. (Apologies for typos I wrote this one in a rush <3) And thank you @damedechance for your help on this one!!

Word count: 2955

@elucienweekofficial

The scandal was contained The bullet had just grazed At all costs, keep your good name You don’t get to tell me you feel bad. - Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me, Taylor Swift

Heir to the Day Court. That was who he was, not Beron’s failure of a seventh son, nor the Spring Court courtier who had abandoned his post and turned over to the court that should have been his enemy. Lucien huffed a laugh that was almost a sob and lifted the bottle of liquor to his lips.

The ceiling of his childhood bedroom hadn’t changed, it was still the same sage green he had picked so many years ago. A soothing color, his mother had smiled at his choice at the time, but it only seemed to mock him now. There was nothing soothing about the Autumn Court and the smell of damp leaves, or the forest green curtains he used to hide behind when Beron was in one of his moods.

Beron was dead, but the entire place still had Lucien on edge since he had stepped foot in it. Only the steady stream of alcohol infusing into his blood with every gulp relaxed him enough to lay back on the old carpet and stare at the ceiling as he tried and failed to process everything that had happened.

A knock came on the door, followed by the still familiar squeak of the hinges. “Lucien,” his mother said his name with a softness he hadn’t heard in years.

“Get out,” he gritted out, pushing up on his elbow just enough to be able to take two heavy gulps of the liquor. The bottle was getting too close to empty, but he’d fix that when he found the energy to care about something other than making himself numb.

“I’m sorry,” she walked in anyway, the black of her skirts visible from the corner of his eye when she took a seat at the foot of his bed.

Mourning clothes. Lucien almost barked a laugh. Was anyone in this court truly mourning that monster? Or were they all still putting on a show for no one’s benefit? He kept himself silent, though, knowing better than to snap at his mother after she took the brunt of Beron’s wrath for his sons more times than any of them would ever know. Except Lucien wasn’t Beron’s son, he was a bastard who had never belonged to this court in the first place.

His mother shifted and cleared her throat, “Lucien, you have to understand—”

“Get out!” He interrupted before she could explain anything.

Lucien didn’t care for explanations, not when he had lived his whole life as a lie, not when the entire room was spinning around him. His mother said nothing more, but he heard her sharp breath in response to his anger before she got up and left him alone to wallow. Being alone was what he was used to, anyway. Everyone around him had some sort of family, some sort of unbreakable friendship, but Lucien was alone.

His own mate didn’t want him. His human friends were happier when they were left alone to fuck all over their little house. Tamlin would never forgive him. Feyre might never forgive him either, after all that had happened to her, and the rest of her court only tolerated him because she handed out the invitations.

A wave of self-disgust washed over him and made his stomach churn. It took one spasm of his body for Lucien to surge up and into the bathroom, where he fell to his knees and emptied his guts into the toilet bowl.

“A little pathetic for a future High Lord, don’t you think?” Eris said from somewhere behind him.

He must have been more inebriated than he thought if he hadn’t heard him come in, but Eris had always been skilled at sneaking up on people. It was something all the Vanserras were good at, after being raised in a house where they were constantly walking on eggshells. Except Lucien wasn’t a Vanserra, of course.

“Fuck you,” Lucien managed before the rest of the alcohol had to make its way out of his stomach.

Eris made a disgusted noise and Lucien would have cursed at him again if he could. When he was done, his chest shuddered with a couple of breaths before he deemed it safe to sit with his back against the edge of the tub.

“What do you want?” He asked Eris as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“You don’t think you’re being a little dramatic?” His half brother leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest like he had any power to scold him.

Eris might have just become High Lord, but he was the asshole Lucien grew up around before anything else.

“I wish I’d thrown up on your shoes,” he said. His head was still spinning, and he could barely keep his eyes focused on anything. Closing them made the spinning worse, which forced Lucien to sort of squint as he waited for the feeling to pass.

“Classy,” Eris rolled his eyes. “And a great way to speak to the High Lord you’ll have to ally with someday,”

“Helion’s nowhere near death,” Lucien reached for the edge of the toilet bowl in anticipation of another wave of nausea, “Or are you planning on killing every father figure in my life?”

“Like anyone in this damn house wanted to see Beron alive for another minute.” Eris cursed and gagged quietly as Lucien threw up again, mostly dry heaving over the toilet bowl because as sick as he felt, there was nothing left in his stomach. “Get your shit together,”

“Get my—” Lucien’s words got cut off by another fit of nausea. “Fuck you,” was all he managed to croak as he settled against the bathtub again.

“All I’m saying is—”

“Fuck you,” Lucien interrupted again and watched the tips of Eris’ ears turn red with anger. Nothing like a little brother—half-brother—to get on his nerves. “It’s only been hours why can’t you just let me—” fall apart, would probably have been the rest of his sentence if something hadn’t clicked in his brain at that moment.

The room briefly stopped spinning, and Lucien pushed himself to sit up straight. “You weren’t even surprised.” Anger bubbled inside of him, heightened by the alcohol still coursing through him.

“Lucien,” Eris said his name like a warning, and it was all he needed to confirm what he had already guessed.

“You knew,” he accused. “How long?”

“It’s not that simple,”

Lucien was yelling now, “How fucking long?”

His broken voice rang in his ears, making his head hurt as his question was only met by silence. Since he was born, then. Lucien wished he could be sick again so he wouldn’t have to keep looking at Eris.

“So you, and mother.” Lucien croaked. “Who else?”

“No one else,” Eris answered quickly, this time. “Beron pretended not to know, it would have been a public embarrassment.”

“And what’s your excuse?”

Eris had the decency to look uncomfortable for a passing moment before he crouched in front of Lucien and handed him a damp towel. “Do you think he would have let her live, if anyone else knew?”

“Helion could have made himself useful,”

“You’re an idealistic fool if you believe there was anything he could have done for her. There are laws—”

“What about me?” Lucien seethed. “What about telling me that there was somewhere I could have gone that wouldn’t have to be fucking exile,”

“Tamlin was your friend,”

“Tamlin has the same anger issues Beron does, you’re the fool if you believe depending on him was a good thing.” Eris quieted at that, and something almost like pity shone in his eyes. It was enough to enrage Lucien once again. “And fuck you,” he grasped the first thing near him to throw at Eris.

His aim was shit when he was drunk, but he was close to his target and the bar of soap made a dull thud against Eris’ head.

“You little—”

“Get out!” Lucien yelled with enough anger that Eris simply stood up straight, kicked the soap out of his path and strode out of the room without another word.

Finally alone. Lucien’s eyes fluttered shut, then opened once again to squint when the spinning in his head became too much. It was uncomfortable enough to make him groan, but anything was better than being sober and having to deal with all of his feelings. Hopefully with enough silence, he’d find just enough strength to winnow out of this nightmare of a court before the sun rose again.

Choosing where to go was more of a dilemma when Lucien could stand again. He had washed the scent of alcohol from his skin, but he still felt like he’d gotten run over by several horses when he stepped out of the wards of the house and winnowed away from Autumn.

For the first time since he had started working for the Night Court, he abused his privilege and ability to get through the shields of Feyre’s home without warning. He barged into the living room in the middle of their afternoon, finding her and her mate sitting on the floor with their child. The last time he had been here, Nyx was crawling all over the floor, now, he was taking small steps in between his parents.

“Lucien!” Feyre exclaimed as she scooped her son up in her arms and stood. “We didn’t expect you today, what brings you here? You look—”

“Like shit,” Rhysand finished for his wife before she could find a nicer way to phrase it.

“Rhys!” She hissed as she covered the child’s ears, but it was already too late.

“Shit!” Nyx exclaimed with a laugh. When Rhys couldn’t contain his own chuckle, he did it again. “Shit!”

“Oh gods,” Feyre glared at her husband and adjusted the wriggling child on her hip.

“I need to know how long you’ve known,” Lucien interrupted their little family scene with more venom than necessary.

Rhys picked up on his anger and seamlessly threw a shield around his child and wife. “Known about what?” He asked Lucien calmly and took a small step to set himself in front of his family.

“About Helion being my father.”

The thud of a brutish Illyrian landing just outside the window had become familiar enough to Lucien that he didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “Really?” He rolled his eyes at Feyre. “I come here for a conversation and this is what you do?”

“Sorry,” she cringed.

“No we’re not,” Rhys crossed his arms over his chest.

“Hey there little Vanserra,” Cassian grinned as he walked into the scene, knowingly using the name Lucien hated without realizing how big of a slip it was that day.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to stop using that one,” Lucien didn’t bother greeting him back. “Apparently, it’s Spell-Cleaver now.”

“What?” Cassian looked over at Rhys, and a few beats passed as they conversed silently.

Lucien threw his hands up and began to pace the length of the room. “At least one person was as surprised as me by this whole mess.”

“I guessed it,” Feyre admitted. “It was during the war and we had so much going on, I didn’t know how to tell you.”

That stopped him in his tracks with a sarcastic laugh. “It’s wonderful how many excuses everyone has been able to make up about this in the past few days.”

“What do you want us to say?” Rhys asked, still calm as ever.

“Feyre, what in the world is—” Elain stopped in her tracks halfway down the stairs. “Lucien,” she greeted with a nod as her cheeks turned bright red.

She seemed to hesitate between running back up or walking the rest of the way down for several seconds before she settled on joining everyone in the living room.

“My lady,” Lucien murmured and pulled himself together enough to bow.

“Well it’s a party now,” Cassian coughed out, though a glare from Feyre was enough to shut him up. If anything, he should be the one to empathize with a male struggling to get attention from his mate.

“Well,” Feyre said. “Why don’t we all sit down for some tea?”

Lucien—who had shown up for answers but with absolutely no plan of what to do next—couldn’t refuse even if there was nothing he wanted less. He stood there, as Cassian sprawled himself in one of the chairs while Feyre left the room and Rhys busied himself with his son.

“Are you alright?” A small hand rested on his arm, and Lucien froze. “You look…”

“I’m sorry,” he tried to tuck strands of hair that fell in his face back to look pulled together, but he was still a mess. “I am alright, thank you for asking.”

“Come,” she gave his sleeve a slight tug and disappeared into the corridor without anyone else noticing.

Either Rhys was now ignoring him, or he was done considering him a threat, because he didn’t even glance up as Lucien slipped away after his mate until they were in the sunlight between the rose bushes of her garden. Feeling the warmth of it on his skin soothed him enough for him to take a deep breath, but something was tight in his chest as he remained aware of his mate watching his every move.

“Better than having to sit in there for tea, isn’t it?” Elain brushed her fingers over one of the roses.

“Yes, thank you,” Lucien had always loved nature, he felt at his best when he was outside, and he should have known that winnowing from house to house couldn’t do him any good.

“You don’t look alright,” she eventually looked up from her flowers to let her gaze run over him.

Lucien did the same, starting at his feet to take in the wrinkles in his usually immaculate clothes. He didn’t need a mirror to know his face was hardly any better with the hangover headache still pounding at his temples.

“I just found out that the High Lord of the Day Court and my mother had an affair, and that my existence is the result of it,” he dropped the news without ceremony and watched Elain’s eyes widen as she stilled. “You didn’t know,” he could tell her surprise was genuine and she shook her head.

“Of course not, how would I have known that?”

 Lucien tried for a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Apparently, your sister and her mate found out long before I did.”

“And they said nothing?” Elain’s question was soon answered by his silence. “I’m sorry, that must be… do you know what you’re going to do now?”

“Not a single idea,” he shrugged and meant for it to be casual, but it only made her look more worried.

“Does Helion know?”

“I don’t know that either,”

Elain nodded and smoothed her hands down her dress. “That could be a good place to start, if you’re ready to find out.”

Lucien picked a leaf off a bush and sighed, “I can’t just waltz into his court and—”

“Your court,” Elain corrected.

“What?”

“It’s your court.” She repeated. “I’ve watched you bounce from one place to another for months… what if this is where you’re supposed to go?”

And there it was, the one fear that had brought Lucien to the Night Court instead of Day.  “But what if it’s not?”

“I may not know you very well,” Elain started hesitantly, “But I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong anywhere. The Day Court could be worth a try, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Start a diplomatic incident between the court I’m emissary for and the one I should supposedly belong to?” Lucien guessed.

A soft laugh escaped her lips, and that sound alone might have been enough to put his heart back together. “Feyre and Rhysand are good friends with Helion, I doubt he’d cause any trouble regarding that.”

“You sound like you know him too,”

“I’ve been to his court,” Elain admitted. “He’s very nice, and it’s a beautiful place.”

“You’re right, I should go,” Lucien sighed. “But what if he did know?”

She walked a few steps ahead of him, deeper into the garden and around the house, where a wooden bench waited for her to sit on. “I doubt it, I know a feeling is not much to work from but… I don’t know, I really don’t think he does.”

“Elain,” Lucien looked amused as he took the spot next to her. “You’re a Seer, I’d trust your feelings.”

“I, ah, I’m still not sure what that’s supposed to mean,” Elain shrugged and adjusted the fabric of her dress on her lap. “I tried to find out more, in the library, but it hasn’t been that helpful.”

“Have you tried the Day Court? It is known for its scholars and collection of knowledge, I’m sure someone could help you there,”

At that, she actually laughed. “I thought I was trying to convince you to go.”

“Maybe we should both go,” Lucien said before he could stop himself, and Elain quickly looked away from him to stare in the distance instead.

“Lucien…”

Her gaze had fallen to her lap, and he immediately regretted his lack of filter. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You should go, find out what you need to, and maybe… if you stay, maybe I could come visit, in a little while,” Elain met his eyes again, something like hope shining on her face.

It was subtle, but it was there, and for the first time in weeks Lucien genuinely smiled. “I would like that, wherever I am.”