#(this is a not small part of the reason i have not gotten the new stephanie carter translation.

[covenofagatha]

A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 3)

A new murder with a different M.O. has you feeling confused

Word count: 4100

Warnings: fingering, murder

It takes you all of five minutes to leave the motel room after you dig more clothes out of your suitcase. 

You looked everywhere for the clothes you were wearing before your nap, but they’re nowhere to be found. 

It would be incredibly bad if you had stripped down and then left the room to put them somewhere else. 

But you don’t have time to dwell on that right now. 

You go fifteen over the speed limit to get to the location Agatha had texted over after she hung up the phone. 

To the location of another murder. 

You had foolishly hoped that maybe The Witch and Lady Death would slow down once you had gotten to town, maybe out of fear of being caught. 

Clearly you had done little to deter them. 

It’s only ten minutes away from your motel, near a creek on the edge of town. 

Police cars are already parked there, yellow caution tape closing off the perimeter. You slam the door shut to your sedan and hurry over to Agatha. It’s late in the afternoon, but the sun is already setting, making the colors of everything look muted. 

“Was it them?” You ask, a little breathless. Agatha glances up and down and looks like she wants to comment on your outfit change, but doesn’t. 

“Come see and tell us what you think,” she says ominously and you follow her into the trees. “Good doctor’s appointment?” 

You stop walking, forcing her to pause too. “You’re married to Dr. Vidal?” 

She chuckles. “She told you that, didn’t she?”

“Did you know that’s who I was going to see earlier?” You ask, not sure why it matters. 

“I had my suspicions,” is all Agatha chooses to say. She’s taking you further into the woods along the side of the creek and it’s getting colder, but the air starts to feel…alive, almost. 

Like it’s crackling with something. You somehow know you’re getting closer to the body.

Are you imagining it, or can Agatha feel it, too? 

And then she stops so quickly you almost bump into her and she points up ahead. 

In the middle of thin, small trees is a big willow tree. It’s a beautiful sight, if you’re being honest. 

You’re transfixed by the icicles gleaming from the barren branches and it takes you a bit to notice the pool of red snow by the roots. 

You stumble forward to get a better look in the last rays of daylight, eyes traveling up the tree trunk and you gasp. 

A man is tied to it, his pants cut open halfway down his thigh and there's a deep gash through both of his femoral arteries. Most likely the cause of death. The only reason you know what color his pants were supposed to be is because the part near his hips is unstained. 

But that’s not all. 

His flannel shirt has been ripped as well, revealing his bare chest, where a heart has been drawn with a knife. It’s a shallow cut, not too much blood, but it’s clear this was meant to be a message, rather than fatal. His eyes are gray and lifeless.

“I don’t understand, this isn’t their M.O. at all,” you say, the snow behind you crunching as Agatha walks to stand next to you. 

You can feel her eyes on you, regarding you carefully. “So what do you think?” 

You think that you’ve never felt this way before. Something is happening to your body, a heat is spreading through it, and it’s like there’s electricity under your skin. Your scar tingles, but doesn’t hurt. 

“Fuck, I don’t know,” you say in frustration. “Maybe they’re switching it up, it’s like they’re taunting me! It doesn’t make any sense to change tactics now, though. All the other bodies were found in homes and now this one is tied to a tree in the middle of nowhere? Doesn’t seem to be poisoned and they didn’t carve out his heart. I don’t – I don’t know.” 

You’re so suddenly aware of the hot blood pumping through your veins and you want something. You can’t put a name to it yet, though. 

“Do you think it could have been someone else?” She asks and you shake your head immediately. 

“No, this was them. I know it, I can feel it.” There’s a thrumming in your head now, behind your eyes and you just want to get rid of it. 

Agatha’s lips stretch into a slow smile and you can see the darkness in her eyes. “What else do you feel?” 

The question makes you freeze. Maybe you’re not going crazy. “Can you feel it, too?” You whisper; you’re afraid to say it too loudly, like it’ll break the spell. 

She slowly walks around and advances on you and you walk backwards until you hit a tree. Your heart races and you can feel it everywhere, like your entire body is beating in time with it.

“You feel the adrenaline, don’t you? Being this close to death, yet you feel more alive than ever?” She asks, and you choke out an affirmation. “It’s addicting, isn’t it? Tell me how it makes you feel.” 

Agatha leans down again, just how she did in the evidence locker, but this time, she drags her teeth up your neck and nips. The pounding in your head gets worse. “It feels…powerful,” you admit, both to her and yourself, maybe for the first time. 

“There’s an ache inside you, right?” She asks, now sucking bites into your neck and your stance widens just the slightest. 

Hearing her put a name to it makes it ever so clear to you now. “Yes,” you gasp, molten heat growing between your legs. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for, but Agatha does. 

Lips still on your skin, her hands fumble with the waistband of your new pants, trying to unbutton and unzip. She’s finally able to slip her fingers in and when she moves your underwear to the side and cups your pussy, you hiss at the coldness. 

“Fuck,” you swear as she starts to swipe at your clit. You’re so sensitive already, and if you weren’t so needy, you’d take a good, long look at yourself to figure out why you’re so turned on right now. 

“Why don’t you think it was them?” She asks, pushing a finger inside you and your head falls back against the tree. She doesn’t move it, waiting for an answer first. 

The ringing in your head comes back with a vengeance. “They’re messing with me,” you stutter. “They want me to be thrown off their game.” She starts moving, slowly thrusting and curling, and you gasp. The mix of pleasure and pain is a combination you never thought would be a good one. 

“You think they’re doing this just for you?” She muses, shoving another finger inside you and twisting lazily and it pulls a groan out of you. 

“The murders were all the same until I showed up,” you whimper. It feels like your body is about to burst. “Agatha.” 

Her thumb finds your clit again and rubs it. “Shh,” she soothes. “I know, superstar. I’ll give you what you need.” She mouths at your neck, lips traveling upward until she reaches your chin, and then her face pulls away from yours. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

“What if it wasn’t them?” She asks in a low voice, fingers stilling in you. You whine and frantically buck your hips to get some stimulation. You just need more. 

You can’t even think straight. “It had to be them. Who else could it have been?” 

There’s just enough sunlight to see the wicked smirk on her face. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 

And then her lips are on yours and she’s ferociously kissing you like she’s trying to devour you, and the pain in your head completely stops. 

She sets a bruising pace inside you and you’re panting into her open mouth while her tongue thrashes against yours. Your teeth clash and it’s messy and hot and everything that you need, and her fingers are hitting exactly where you need. Your hands are rough as they scramble for purchase around her shoulders, desperate to keep her exactly where she is. You dig your nails into her and she moans against you, and you’re so close. 

Your orgasm is building, only this time, it’s heightened and feels way more intense than any you’ve ever had before. You’re throbbing around Agatha’s fingers, clenching and trying to draw her in even more, and she fits a third one into you. It makes you keen and you babble nonsensically about how you’re going to cum.  

“Cum for me, pet,” she orders and you sink your teeth hard into her lower lip as you do. It’s like a dam breaks all over your body, tension and pleasure exploding through every crack and crevice and it’s easily the best orgasm you’ve ever had. 

It takes a minute for you to recover and when you’re able to think clearly again after Agatha takes her fingers out of you, you notice that her lip is bleeding. 

“Fuck, did I do that?” You ask and she chuckles, tongue darting out to lick it up. You follow the movements and feel the heat inside you coming back. 

She holds the fingers that were inside of you up to your mouth and you suck on them without hesitation. “Don’t worry about it. Not the first time it’s happened,” she teases with a wink and your stomach sinks. Your head moves back so her fingers slip out of you.

“Oh my god, you’re married,” you say and Agatha raises an eyebrow as if to say obviously. “And we’re at a crime scene, what did we just do? There’s a dead body right over there.”

Agatha raises up her hands to disarm the situation. “Hey, don’t think too hard about it. You have a very stressful job, sometimes you just need to blow off some steam.” 

“How are you so calm? You just cheated on your wife!” You snap, quickly zipping and buttoning your pants. The electricity in the air is now gone, completely replaced by cold and fear. You have to get out of here. The Witch and Lady Death are two steps ahead of you and you need to stop them. This was them, and you know it.

You don’t even wait for Agatha to respond, you pick a direction and start walking. She calls your name a few times before you whirl around, tears in your eyes. “Rio and I…have an arrangement of sorts. Trust me, she is completely okay with this.” 

Her words do little to calm you down, but you’re getting closer to the detectives and officers and the coroner’s car has pulled up. “It doesn’t matter. This can’t happen again,” you say sternly. 

“Whatever you want, superstar,” she says and it almost makes you furious. It feels like she’s teasing you, for being with the FBI. Almost as bad as the guys around the station calling you Miami. 

But you don’t argue, you don’t speak at all, you just stand there, a bone-chilling emptiness inside you as you watch the body get wheeled out from the woods after about twenty minutes. Detectives keep searching the surrounding area for any clues, but they find nothing. 

Which doesn’t surprise you at all. Lady Death and The Witch are clever. It just means you have to work harder to catch them. 

“Alright, we got everything here. Forensics is going to do some tests on the blood, see if maybe we can get a DNA match for the killer. Photos of the scene will be printed and ready for us tomorrow,” Agatha says gruffly, walking over to you, the picture of professionalism after being three fingers deep in you not forty-five minutes ago. “You should get home, get some rest.” 

You shake your head and clutch your jacket tighter around you. “I’ve been sleeping for the past few hours. I’m not tired. I can head into the station, if you want. Get a head start on work for tomorrow.” 

Something flickers in Agatha’s eyes, something you don’t quite recognize. “No, that’s okay. Go back to your motel. Even if you don’t sleep, you should still try and relax. Take a warm bath or something. That always helps me clear my head.” 

You frown, but before you can ask what she thinks you need to clear your head from, she pats you on the shoulder and walks to her car. The scene quickly clears out, but there’s something still nagging at you in the back of your mind. 

You can’t leave just yet. 

Grabbing a flashlight from your bag in your car, you wander back through the woods, desperate to find something the officers missed. 

The night passes while you tear up every single rock and leaf and clump of snow on the ground near where the man was murdered. And then you expand the search, walking along the creek edge, flashlight sweeping right and left. Your hands are bright red from the stinging frost, having taken off your gloves ages ago to better dig around, and you’ve lost feeling in your face. Tears are permanently frozen in your eyes it seems, and as the sun starts to break through the darkness, you defeatedly drop to the ground on the bed of the creek. 

You don’t know what you were expecting to find, it was a stupid idea. You’re just about to call it a day and trek back to your car to go into the station, when you see a log just a few yards away. 

Brows crinkling, you wince when you stand up, your joints aching from the cold, and stumble over to it. You shine your flashlight into the opening of the hole and you gasp. 

The light reflects off something shiny. 

This time, you’re smart about it. You put your gloves back on, flashing between your teeth, and you carefully reach inside and brush away the moss to grab onto it and pull it out. 

It’s a knife. 

The discovery makes your heart leap. You found something! This could be your first real break in the case, one step closer to bringing the pair of serial killers down. 

You turn the blade over in your hands to inspect every part of it. Strange, you think. It seems almost like a kitchen knife. The serrated edge isn’t as sharp as it should be if it were meant to be a murder weapon. But when you hold it closer to your face, you can make out specks of blood on it. 

And then there’s something else, an emblem of sorts on the bottom of the blue handle. It says WM with a circle around the letters. 

The first thing you think of is Wanda Maximoff and terror spikes through you. Has she gotten out of jail and come to find you? 

But you are absolutely certain that Tony would’ve called you immediately, so that helps calm you down. Still, you suddenly don’t feel safe in the woods, almost like you’re being watched, so you pocket the knife before sprinting back to your car. 

You slam and lock the doors immediately and you turn the heat all the way up to coax life back into your frozen body. It’s still early, barely even six-thirty am, so you decide to go back to your motel room and shower before you head into the station. 

Your stomach rumbles and you can’t remember the last time you ate. You just pulled an all-nighter (although, you could argue that because you took a nap for about five hours yesterday, that counts as sleep) and you haven’t showered since you’ve been here. 

Tony would kill you. 

Once you get back to your room, you turn on the bath, still feeling the chill deep in your bones. You carefully take the knife out of your coat pocket with a paper towel and lay it on the counter so you can remember to bring it in so Forensics can test it. 

You strip off your sopping wet clothes and get into the bath, moaning out loud at how good the warm water on your tired and shaking body feels. 

Sinking into the tub so every part of you except for your face is submerged, you lean down to turn off the faucet and settle back down. You don’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing you know, you jolt awake and splash about a gallon of water over the edge. 

“Fuck,” you cough, trying to get out of the tub, but your entire body is sore and your head feels awful. 

Apparently there’s consequences for spending over eight hours out in the snow with no gloves and then falling asleep in a bath with water that’s now lukewarm. 

You manage to maneuver yourself out and you quickly grab the robe that was hanging on the bathroom door to wrap around your shivering body. Your phone is on the sink counter and it starts buzzing. It’s Agatha. 

A hand grips the vanity to stable yourself before picking it up. “Hello?” You rasp, grimacing at the effort it takes to speak. 

“Yikes, you sound awful,” she says, teasing tone in her voice. “You okay, superstar? Get a little too much rest last night?”

“I think I’m a little sick,” you admit. You’re usually able to tough it out, but you feel like you died and barely came back to life. “Is it okay if I–” 

“Yes, stay there,” she orders and you almost collapse with relief. 

But then you remember the knife. If you don’t go in, that means it’s another day that The Witch and Lady Death remain free. “I found something last night, in the woods,” you say. “I really need to bring it in.” 

“Whatever it is, it can wait. You just need to take some medicine and get some rest. Do you have anything you can take?” 

You search through the items in your toiletry bag. “I have some Advil.” You pop two in your mouth and swallow it with water from the sink. 

“I’ll text Rio and ask if she can bring over some medicine and maybe some food, too. Go to sleep. I’ll check in with you tomorrow,” she says, and before you can insist that Rio does not come here, she hangs up. 

Groaning, you find that you don’t have it in you to be petulant, so you make your way into bed and you fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow. 

Snow. 

It’s just started falling, there’s barely an inch on the ground. 

The branches reach for you as you walk through them, trying to grab on and not let you go. The thicket is getting denser and darker, but there’s something calling out to you, so you keep walking. 

There’s a melodic hum, and it lulls you into feeling safe. Is it real? Is it in your head? 

Is there a difference? 

You can barely see three inches in front of you and everything is going black and you can feel wounds being torn into your face and you should really turn back now –

– you break into a clearing. 

Only this time, there’s a willow tree in the middle. You can hear something, it sounds like two women laughing. 

Are they laughing at you? 

It must be the killers, they must be taunting you, rubbing it in how you can’t catch them. 

More people are going to die, and their blood is on your hands. 

The cackling gets louder and louder and then it’s all you can hear and you clamp your hands over your ears begging for it to stop, please, god, let it stop –

– there’s a hand on your shoulder and everything is silent. 

You turn around slowly. Is it them? 

Instead, it’s a man with his eyes closed. He looks vaguely familiar, where have you seen him? 

He opens his eyes and they’re gray and it hits you. 

It’s the dead man. 

He grabs you by the shoulders and his jaw drops to scream, but no sound comes out. And then his hands grab your throat and he starts to squeeze. 

The knocking on the door to your room wakes you up and you fly out of bed, gasping for breath, still feeling the pressure around your throat. It takes a moment to collect your bearings before you realize that you’re safe and the man is dead. 

Still a little shaky, you walk to the door and unlatch it to find Dr. Vidal standing there. 

“Oh, hi,” you greet, stepping to the side so she can come in. It’s hard to meet her eyes after being fucked by her wife the day before. She holds up a container of chicken noodle soup in one hand and a box of cold medicine and a plastic grocery bag in the other. 

“Agatha said you were feeling a little under the weather,” she says, plopping the stuff down on the counter and thankfully avoiding the mounds of photos and case evidence you have right next to it. Including the knife from the woods. “Did I wake you up?” 

You rub your face and feel the pillow indentions in your cheek. “Um, yeah, I was having a bad dream though, so I don’t mind,” you joke and motion for her to take a seat. 

“I would heat up the soup first before eating,” she suggests and you pour it into a bowl and put it in the microwave. “Bad dream? Do you want to talk about it?

“Would it count as a session?”

Dr. Vidal waves her hand. “Not at all. Consider it free advice. So, what happened?” 

The microwave beeps and you open it, the soup steaming. You set it down to cool off a little. “It kind of lines up with those images I had with you and another dream I had yesterday, I think. I don’t really know how to explain it, but I think they’re memories of something? I just don’t remember it. But then there’s some things that change, like today, there was this new dead man. That was recent, so maybe they’re not memories? Maybe I’m just losing my mind.” 

“You’re not losing your mind,” she chuckles. “Dreams and memories, the real and not real, it’s easy to blur the lines. Maybe your unconscious is trying to tell you something, maybe trying to remind you of something that happened to you.” 

That makes you think for a moment. You can see the woods, the snow, whatever you keep seeing, but it’s more of just flashes in time, rather than the whole thing. You can’t see what happens before, or after. “I guess I’ll just have to see if more pieces start coming together,” you say. 

She sighs. “I know it can be confusing and probably really frustrating, but I’ll help you get to the bottom of this. I have some techniques we can try during your session in a few days. I’ll help you claw your way out of whatever this is.” 

“Thank you,” you say gratefully. “What’s in the bag?” You point to the grocery bag and she nods to give you permission. You open it and with a gasp, you find your clothes from yesterday in it, all neatly folded. “How…what…you…” There’s no words. 

“Don’t worry, it’s our little secret,” she says with a wink. 

You have to grab onto the edge of the counter so you don’t pass out. “Wait, did we…” 

“Have sex?” She asks bluntly and you’re too afraid to move. “No, we didn’t. If we did, you would remember it.” 

The thrumming starts to come back behind your eyes, despite the blush at her flirtatious words. “So, how do you have my clothes?” 

“You better eat your soup before it gets cold,” Dr. Vidal sidesteps the question and it’s clear that you’re not getting an answer. 

You slide open the drawer next to the fridge and pull out a spoon from the silverware caddy. A sharp pain sears through your head and your heart starts to race. 

The spoon has the same blue handle and emblem as the knife does. WM. Westview Motel. The spoon clatters to the ground and you begin furiously counting. Six forks. Six spoons. 

Five knives. 

When they were in your room your first night in Westview, they must’ve taken it from here. 

They’re trying to frame you. 

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (09)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

chapter warnings: stalking, creep behaviour, reader receives an inappropriate package, mentions of Richard Ramirez, mentions of a threesome.

a/n;; AND WE ARE BACK TO UPLOADING BABY!! Have an early Christmas Gift <33

Something feels… off – that was the best way you could put it. A few months have passed since you started your part-time job at the cafe, but you can’t help but shake off a sense of uneasiness. You couldn’t really put a finger on it, but it’s as though someone was watching you; maybe even following you.

You feel a pair of eyes wherever you go around campus, sometimes even up to the front door of your apartment’s main entrance. It can’t have been Seungcheol or either of the boys because while Mingyu and Vernon had done an absolute shit job at “keeping a close eye” on you; you knew they would never go to such lengths to cause you such discomfort.

“Nonnie?”

“‘Sup?”

You were both sitting in the cafeteria with Vernon halfway through his food while you were poking at the sad excuse of a meatloaf. “What would you do if you felt as though someone is following you everywhere?” Vernon’s ears perked at the implication that you may be dealing with a stalker, becoming alert as he gave you his attention. “Have you seen the guy?” he asked, growing worried when you shook your head.

“When did it start?”

You shift a little in your seat, “I don’t know… Maybe a few weeks after getting that job at the cafe?”

Vernon frowns. He knew you were pretty, hell, that was the reason why several boys from his major came up to him to try and get your number. He’d always reject, saying that he wasn’t comfortable giving out your number so easily; or that if they wanted your number, they should grow a pair of balls and ask you themselves. But, he’d never think that someone would go as far as stalking you.

“Have you told Seungcheol about this?”

“He… He’s still avoiding me…” you mutter sadly, “I mean, yeah, he does reply to my texts and he even gave me the study materials I needed for my exams; but… y’know, he’s still being avoidant…”

‘Damn… It’s been months and he’s still hung up on that wet dream.’

“But, he should at least know this is going on, right?”

You shake your head again. You recall the many times Seungcheol has gotten you out of trouble, or gotten himself into trouble for you while growing up. While he brushes it off as something he’d do for you in a heartbeat, you can’t help but feel as though you were burdening him. You remembered there was one time you had accidentally broken one of his mother’s China, you were maybe 10 years-old?

Your parents had gone on a short business trip to New York and thus, you stayed with the Chois. You had accidentally bumped into a chair and the plate fell out of your grasp. Seungcheol took the blame for you, telling his parents he wasn’t looking when he set the table. He had gotten an earful from his parents, telling him he should’ve been more careful because the broken shards could’ve hurt you.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Cheollie? I-It was my fault, why are you–”

“I know, pup. But, whatever trouble you might get in, I’ll always bail you out, yeah?”

“But–”

“No ‘buts’, pup. I’ll protect you no matter how big or small the mess is.”

“Look, ___, I don’t know what’s making you think you’re a liability,” Vernon pauses to take a sip of his orange juice, “Because based on my observation, Jesus, I sound like Wonwoo hyung now… But, based on my observation, he’s more than willing to do anything for you. Study materials, late night snacks, emergency pad runs – he never says no to you.”

When you suggest that he may be doing it because he feels a sense of responsibility towards you, that he’s spent a majority of his life looking out for you; thus he’s compelled to do so even when you’re an adult, Vernon dismisses it immediately. “Look, I’ve seen Seungcheol hyung with some of the girls he’s dated. Sure, he does the usual boyfriend duties but, I don’t think he’s ever been as doting on them as he is with you.”

You look back down at your uneaten cafeteria food, feeling your appetite leave the more you stare at it. “You aren’t a liability, ___. Cheol cares for you like you mean the world to him.” You sigh as you set the fork down, pushing the tray of food away from you. “Maybe I’ll tell him if things go too far… You know any good food spots that’s still affordable? The cafeteria food today is just… nasty… I don’t know how you managed to eat this?”

“Oh, you got the meatloaf surprise,” he answers and motions you to follow him, “I usually go for the chicken katsu or jjajangmyeon! Not the best, but they’re sure as hell better than the meatloaf.”

“Speaking from experience, I presume?”

“Girlie, I had the worst food poisoning in my entire life! Anyways, have you heard of this Open Mic the school’s planning to host?”

“This assignment requires you to work in pairs,” your professor announced, “And, I’ve done you all a favour by choosing your partners for you.”

The class groans, you included as you cross your fingers and beg the Academic Gods to give you a reliable partner. “I understand that you’d all don’t want to get paired with someone whose work ethic you aren’t familiar with, but believe me when I say that it wouldn’t kill you to work with others.”

You continue to chant your prayers quietly as she begins to read out the names. “Lee ___ and Lee Chan.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You’ve worked with Chan for a group project while you were both freshmen and you’ve mentally noted him as one of the more reliable classmates. Though, your course doesn’t require you to do much group projects so that freshmen project was the first and last time you’ve interacted with, until now that is. Chan gently knocks the empty desk space next to you to pull you out of your train of thought.

“___, right?” he asked, a big smile on his lips as he took a seat next to you, “We were in that one project two years ago, right?”

You let out a small laugh, “That’s me and yes, we were.”

“I’ve seen you around campus with Hansol and a few other seniors! You work at that cafe near campus too, right? How’s the job treating you?”

‘That’s… a lot of questions…’ you think to yourself. But, you politely answered his question anyway. You tell him how you never knew cafes put so much sugar in their drinks until you started working, leading you to order your drinks with less sugar. “The pastries are freshly baked, too! I don’t know where news or rumours of them being leftovers or stored overnight came from, but they aren’t.”

You notice how Chan leans in slightly, his eyes scanning your face.

“Y’know, you’re actually prettier up close.”

His statement… To say it weirded you out would be an understatement – you were creeped the fuck out. Could he be the guy that’s been giving you the heebie-jeebies as of late? You sure hope so, or maybe not. But, either way, you tried to brush off the anxiety that’s beginning to rise in your chest.

“T-Thanks…?”

Chan opens up his laptop, tapping on a few keys on the keyboard and moments later, you receive a small text from the chatroom of the platform your school uses. “I sent you a link to a Google Doc! We could just write out our parts and brainstorm how we can link them together once we’re done!”

You nod your head, clicking into the link.

“Do you live nearby, ___?”

“Mmm… No, I actually commute to school. Occasionally, Vernon would pick me up from Sujeong Central since it’s a five minute walk from my apartment.”

It takes you a moment to realise you’ve just exposed your residential address. When Chan asks if it’d be okay to go back to your place to discuss the assignment, you reject immediately. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude or harsh,” you explained, “I’m just uncomfortable with having people I’m not familiar or close with over at my house.”

The boy nods in understanding, muttering a small apology before turning his attention to the professor as she explains the assignment.

Mingyu and Wonwoo leaned against the former’s black 2022 Genesis G90. You were working your night shift and the group, excluding Seungcheol, have taken it amongst themselves to be your personal bodyguards. They’d drive you home if you’d work the night shift, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe and not having anyone trailing you.

“Any luck in finding out who this creep could be?” Mingyu asks, looking into the windows of the cafe and returns the small wave you gave him.

“So far, zero,” the older replies, “Whoever this creep is, they’re good at covering their tracks or not being caught.”

“Do you think they’re from our university?”

“Given the location of this cafe, I’d say yes. But, we also have to factor in the dodginess of her residential area.”

“Do you think we’d catch this guy? I honestly hate seeing ___ getting so worked up over this…”

“We just need more time.”

Lost in their conversation, the two men failed to notice you picking up a box on one of the cafe tables. There was a printed paper stuck on it, stating that it was a little gift addressed to you. You thought it was cute, a customer having a crush on their barista like in the movies or books you’ve read. But, when you opened it – it was far from a romantic gesture. Mingyu noticed you frozen in place, a look of fear on your face as you stared into the box in your hand.

Nudging Wonwoo, they entered the cafe and approached you to ask what was wrong. When the older male peeks into the box, he immediately grabs it to set it aside. “Do you remember who sat here?” he asks.

You shook your head. It had been a busy day and with the amount of customers coming in and out, the crowd just blended in together; and why would you remember the face of a random stranger?

Mingyu continues to comfort you as the older begin to examine the contents of the box – several pictures of you around campus and in the cafe were printed out, alongside a pair of… men’s underwear. ‘With men like these existing, it’s no wonder why women choose bears,’ he thinks to himself, remembering the hot internet debate a few months prior.

“Do you still want to go home?” he asks as closes the box, “I’ll hold onto these until we catch the bastard.”

When you shake your head, they suggest you stay over at their place for the time being. “Are you sure? I mean, that’s nice of you both to offer me that, but I don’t want to –”

“Mingyu hasn’t been bringing girls in since hell week of his semester started,” Wonwoo adds, allowing you to resume your closing shift, “He’s cleared up his schedule too, so you’re safe from hearing two or more models having sex.”

“And, what about you?” you questioned, “I remember Cheollie mentioning you both had a threesome before.”

The man only shrugs, “Only if I feel like it. I’m either studying, gaming or streaming the majority of the time.”

“Well… If it’s safer, then I suppose I’ll take you both up on that offer. But, I don’t have any spare clothes… Should I head back home to get them?”

Mingyu mentions some of the models he slept with left their undergarments and several clothes behind. “Some of them could be your size, plus you can keep them too!”

“Wouldn’t they want them back?”

“Nah, a lot of it has been sitting in my closet for years now.”

“And, they’re loaded – they could just buy another one.”

Given how many girls Mingyu would have over, it’s no surprise that their apartments would have feminine hygiene products. But, it does surprise you to see how expensive the products were. “Oh, a majority of the models I know and fool around with only use luxury or high class brands.”

“And you bought it just for them?”

“Believe me, ___,” Wonwoo hands you a cup of tea, “If Mingyu isn’t shoving his dick into every female model he finds attractive, he’d be a good boyfriend.”

They lead you into a spare room, letting you get comfortable before they start going over the details of the creep that’s been giving you trouble. “My bet is on that Lee Chan you’re partnered with,” Mingyu says as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, Wonwoo asking him why as he takes a seat on the empty gaming chair at the desk.

“I mean, if you think about it, he said you were much prettier up close; which is already creepy in and of itself. Plus, he asked if you lived nearby and if he could go back to your place to work on the assignment!”

“On one hand, that’s a fair point; but maybe the kid is just a loser in a cute boy’s body that doesn’t know how to talk to girls, too. He probably lacks some kind of social cues.”

“Are you defending a creep’s actions now, Woo?”

“Jesus, Mingyu, I’m only giving the kid the benefit of the doubt.”

When you tell them that it’s unlikely Chan is your stalker, Wonwoo is quick to end that train of thought. “___, I’m only giving Chan the benefit of the doubt. But, that doesn’t mean he’s off the hook just yet, considering the things he’s said to you.”

“But, he looks like a sweet guy!”

He raises an eyebrow, “Just because he looks like a sweet guy, doesn’t mean he’s actually a sweet guy.”

“Yeah, like that Night Stalker dude from L.A.,” Mingyu chimes in, “Think his name was Richard Ra… Ramuda? Ramida?”

“Richard Ramirez.”

“Yeah, him! Sure, he’s got some looks, but dude’s a literal murderer! Hell, I can’t believe people would want to bang him!”

“I mean… I would fuck ghostface if given the chance…” you mutter under your breath, getting a judgemental look from the model. Thankfully, Wonwoo justified your statement. “I’m with her on that ghostface statement. It’s a niche market or target audience, it has its appeal.”

“You’re both freaks, but at least that’s a fictional character. Moving on from both of your masked people's kinks, ___, I think it’s best you let Seungcheol know about this.”

You insisted on not telling Seungcheol, continuing with the whole not wanting to be a liability defence and that you were a big girl now; you can handle yourself just fine! No matter how hard the two men tried to persuade you, you wouldn’t budge. For a brief moment, Mingyu could’ve sworn he saw Seungcheol inside you because he too shared the same stubbornness. Realising they can’t get you to change your mind, the men gave up and bid you goodnight.

“You can stay here for as long as you’d like!” the model tells you, “Maybe, even forever!”

Wonwoo scoffs, “As if Seungcheol would let her.”

gamerwoo: hey hyung cheol: sup gamerwoo: ___ would kill me if she found out i told you this gamerwoo: but just a heads up gamerwoo: she’s got a stalker gamerwoo: will let you know when you need to step in

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @minhui896

[meichenxi]

12 hyper-specific actionable neurodivergent-friendly goal suggestions for the New Year!

If you are considering writing goals / intentions / focus points that are more ADHD and/or autism friendly and not overly focused on career or relationships but rather on feeling at home in your body, here are 12 very specific, very actionable tiny steps that have made my life actively better in the last year. Feel free to reblog with similarly actionable points!

(Obligatory disclaimer: these are what have helped me – hence why ‘hyperspecific’! They might be completely the opposite of what you need, or irrelevant to your situation. And all of them, of course, are funds-dependent. But I hope you can find something to inspire you to think about more actionable goals for the coming year.)

1) Get a recipe box

This is number one for a reason. In the past, I have lived for three years on sandwiches (!). I cannot cook or reliably feed myself, and have been beating myself up about it for years. At its best it is humiliating, and at its worst I have gotten various illnesses from malnutrition. I find cooking a sensory hell, as well as triggering past ED thoughts, and shopping and deciding every day what to eat is an executive dysfunction nightmare.

‘You should be able to cook’ – okay, but you can’t. If you can afford it, what’s more important – that you eat well, or that you fail again and again at doing what you ‘should’ be able to do? I think of it as part of my autism accommodations, and just one of the ways that existing as a disabled person is more expensive. Please take the shame away from it, and use it if you need.

I pay for Gousto – it’s the best for vegans, and costs about £35 a week. This is a huge part of my budget for the month, but I find it worth it a million times over. It delivers the recipes and packaged foods in correct amounts to my house every week, and I always choose the quickest recipes to cook. They are done in about fifteen minutes. This forces me to be in the kitchen every day, which has the added benefit of making it very clean, because I can’t stand to cook when the kitchen is very dirty.

2) Go to the gym for ten minutes a day

- (If you don’t want to go to the gym but do other exercise instead, swap the location out for your preferred place!)

- Most traditional advice around exercise revolves around not doing too much – so for most beginners that means 3-4 times a week, at the maximum. The problem is that for AuDHD and other neurodivergent people that habits may be much harder, if not impossible, to form. This means that the executive function required to remember to go to the gym if it’s only 3 times a week, conversely, is actually significantly higher than if you do it every day.

- The ‘ten minutes a day’ thing, for me, means that my goal is not to do X amount of exercise or overwhelm myself. My goal is only to get there. Once I’m there, I can do whatever I want. This formulation of the goal in my mind removes the demand-avoidance and executive dysfunction barriers because if I really don’t want to exercise, I can just walk on the treadmill for a bit and then leave. Knowing this means that I almost always do more exercise than I otherwise would if I were forced to follow a difficult and tiring exercise regime.

- The key to this is that you actually have to mean it. Don’t beat yourself up if after ten minutes, you go home. That’s okay. Your goal was ten minutes – your goal is to make going to the gym a habit, not necessarily the actual exercise you do. That comes next.

3) Use a weighted neck-wrap, cushion or plushie

- For a disorganised sensory system, as many autistic people in particular have, proprioceptive input (that tells your body where it is in space – so weight, pressure, compression etc) can be hugely regulating and calming. A weighted neck wrap is small enough to go under your clothes or can go over your chest as you sleep. I already use a weighted blanket, but this means I can have a little bit of calming proprioceptive input as I work at my desk as well.

4) Get a smoothie box

- This is a similar point to the recipe box. I frequently have health problems because I absolutely hate the texture of fruit and vegetables, and just don’t ever eat them. Rather than forcing myself, as I have done for the past several years, to just try – I’ve leant into my difficulties and worked around them. Smoothies work for me. A smoothie box that comes every month averages out to about £2 per smoothie, which is less than the cost of a bottle in a supermarket. You don’t have to chop anything, just put it in the blender with water or oat or coconut milk.

- Most smoothies have 3 of your 5 a day at least, and some even have 5! If you are struggling nutritionally, it might be something to think about. It’s helped me hugely, and I now consider it an essential part of my budget.

- If it’s too expensive, consider buying frozen fruit by yourself if you have the spoons for that.

5) How can you look the most ‘put together’ without doing anything at all?

- I don’t mean showering. I mean infrequent practices like haircuts! I hate wearing makeup for sensory reasons, but I have a good haircut, one that makes me feel like myself and sharp and confident – I feel so much better, and it’s something I only have to do once. I now make it a deliberate choice to put a haircut in my calendar for every two months.

- Consider a ‘no style’ haircut that will look smart whatever you do! My haircut is a short French bob. You need essentially no styling, it works curly or wavy or straight (though if you have curly or coily hair, you should go to someone who can work with your texture – if you don’t thin it out properly, it’ll give you a horrible triangle shape!). I feel SO put-together with this haircut – it elevates even pyjamas, and I have to do absolutely nothing.

- I bite my nails to the point of bleeding – getting professional gel paint on my nails (no extensions) is the only thing that works to stop me, because the smooth round tips meant I could stim with those instead of biting. For ages, I didn’t because it was a ‘waste of money’. This year I realised: if I’m not going to stop stimming, I need to give myself something to stim with that doesn’t hurt me. Accept your neurodivergence and work around it. I now book a nails appointment every 6 weeks or so, for £20-£25. I find it again more than worth it.

- Similarly, I have just got a nose piercing, and I am considering tattoos for next year. For me piercings and tattoos do the same thing as the above two: they make me look more put together without actually ever having to think about wearing temporary jewellery or makeup (which I can’t for sensory reasons). What might work for you?

6) Dress for Sensory Good

- I have found a noticeable difference in my self-confidence with my appearance once I a) accepted that I have sensory differences, and b) bought clothes that accommodated those differences without making me look like a slob. For example, I hate feeling constricted around my thighs as I like to jump and stim and dance, but I don’t want to live in tracksuit bottoms because that leads to Depression Soup – so I have started buying formal, ‘monk-style’ trousers with a wrap-around belt and flowy legs. I like the feeling of pressure around my waist that a tight top provides, but I hate it around my shoulders (don’t ask me why…), so I have started wearing tops with huge baggy sleeves and a wrap-belt around the waist. So many of these tiny adjustments, and for the first time in my life I feel both comfortable and beautiful in my wardrobe.

- Do you like heavy things? Soft textures? Scratchy wool? Lots of badges to play with? Tight compression? Flowing fabrics? And how does this work with your lifestyle? When I am overwhelmed, I often want to cover the lower half of my face and neck – it feels comforting to me. So I have started wearing light scarves that I can wrap around my face like an old lady (!) which both block out the world, provide that comfort, and also look...normal? It lets me stim without visibly outing myself as autistic, which I don’t always feel safe doing.

- Other things to consider that might help: compression clothing, weighted jackets, heavy boots, ankle and wrist weights (there are some that are very minimalist and look like bracelets), wrap trousers, tight belts, cloaks with hoods, cowl necklines, activewear, Merino wool (if you sweat a lot or can’t shower / do laundry often), complete light-blocking sunglasses (you can buy these from a ski shop), stretchy fabric, etc. Whatever works for you – find it!

7) Use a sippy bottle with a straw

- I can’t stay hydrated. If it’s left up to me, I drink less than a glass of water every single day. I have constantly bleeding cracked lips and skin from lack of hydration. The only thing that has worked so far – and it has been a game-changer! – is to buy a huge 1.2 litre / 40 oz water-bottle with a built-in straw that I can take around everywhere. I can stim with it, the straw feels nice, I much prefer drinking from a straw because I hate accidentally wetting my chin / sleeves - and all I have to do is remember to fill it up twice a day. That’s way less mental effort than remembering eight glasses!

8) Get noise-cancelling headphones and Loops

- I assume everyone who is autistic has these. If you don’t – they will change your life. I only got them last year and suddenly so many places have become accessible to me that I would have just avoided before. I also tell people very honestly that I often wear them, so please don’t be alarmed if I do – if you want to start this, I’ve found it less intimidating to do it with strangers first, and then moving up to friends / family. Now everyone is used to it, and I get way less overwhelmed.

9) Use an audiobook service

- For a long time I thought that I had lost the ability to read. I now know that’s directly correlated to my levels of overwhelm (which makes my ADHD traits worse), but even so, my short-term memory is so poor that I have basically never been able to read non-fiction – it goes in one ear and out the other. Now that I use an audiobook service, however – I am listening to lecture series about so many things I’m passionate about and actually remembering things for the first time in my life!

- Knowing that I can listen to things I love whilst I clean or tidy my room or pack or whatever helps me so much. I also enjoy lying down in the dark under my weighted blanket listening to audiobooks as I wake up and go to sleep – it has completely replaced scrolling on my phone as the first / last thing to do in a day. When I’m overwhelmed I often can’t look at a physical book as it hurts my eyes, so an audiobook is far better.

10) Get Huel / Pleny / other meal-replacement drinks

- Because sometimes even with a recipe box, you won’t be able to cook. You’ll have forgotten to go shopping. You’ll be so sensory-weird that the thought of eating food is awful and makes you want to vomit. This doesn’t work for my partner, who hates the texture of Huel, but for me I can bear it and often enjoy the same-ness of knowing exactly what to expect. On days when I can’t cook or go out or sort out a meal, Huel is a life-saver.

11) Add active rest time to your calendar

- I don’t mean necessarily an actual calendar, but about how you think about time and your day. I make it a habit now to automatically add the same amount of time as the activity took as recovery time afterwards. So if I schedule a date for 2pm to 4pm, then I know that after I get home I will need two hours to recover before I can do something else.

- This has helped me be both more deliberate about my rest time (I don’t scroll or watch anything – I deliberately ‘go in’, as I call it, using my weighted blanket, other weighted things on my chest, a blindfold, brown noise, pitch black room etc), and also be realistic about how much I can do in my life. I know that if I have to rest for two hours after a two-hour event, it’s very unlikely that I can do more than one social engagement in a day. This expands to longer periods: if I go and visit my family for four days, I will likely need four days doing not much afterwards, and certainly no cognitively demanding tasks or socialising. This is a reality check which helps me say no to certain things that are not crucial.

12) Try compression clothes

- These provide a subtle and constant proprioceptive input which can calm the nervous system – as I have said above, proprioceptive input (knowing where your body is in space, pressure etc) is hugely regulating to AuDHD nervous systems. It also massively affects the other sensory systems if it is dysregulated – so if you aren’t meeting your sensory needs for proprioception, it’s likely that visual or auditory will be even harder. You don’t need to buy ones specifically for autism – UnderArmour or shapewear or activewear works just as well.

---

I hope these help! I have many more suggestions, but will leave that to another post :)

[crystallizsch]

I DIDNT THINK THE COLOR-MY-TREE MESSAGES WOULD BE OPEN FOR EVERYONE AT ONCE— IT’S NOT THE 25TH FOR ME YET-

oughhhhhghh anyways very long all-over-the-place, one-thought-leads-to-another sappy message below. read it or not, it’s up to you hdbjss (and don’t worry i’m not putting any messages on blast they were private for a reason 😭) it’s morning for me so i’m just AGH

i wanted to write a general thank-you message but as soon as i started typing all the words i wanted to properly say left my cranium and said “hey let’s be vulnerable” and so here we are.

anyways HI HELLO HI every message means A LOT💥💥💥, thank you to everyone who took time to write one for me. from the simple greetings, the silly messages, and the sweet and vulnerable ones. i will forever remember you all and i’ll keep you in my heart safe and sound. 💖

HARD PIVOT this small part can be skipped but i think i’ve only vaguely and briefly touched on this on my main but christmas eve especially is extremely rough for me. it’s not christmas or the holidays’ fault necessarily, but it’s because one of my parents passed away unexpectedly. so uh not a good memory to put it lightly. i only turned 18 that time, but as the oldest kid, i was already expected to “stay strong” and be the second parent. i felt the overbearing pressure because my family is not really in a “privileged” enough position to even be given the time to grieve + i was in the middle of starting uni so fuck that LMAO.

(something something that’s prob why i relate to jamil a lot HFJDJS but that’s a topic for another day maybe) (anyways just some. necessary??? background context i suppose.)

so uh backstory time. i was there for twst en when it came out but stopped and only got reintroduced to it last year because of an irl friend. i’ve been hooked into it for months BEFORE i started posting at the beginning of this year.

(shoutout yuuna for being my first yuu and shoutout yuusha for taking over my blog, she was never meant to be dragged out of the basement).

i thought this tumblr thing was just gonna be a way for me to distract myself from grief and pressure and the constant thoughts of ending it all. i NEVER would have imagined that i’d be part of community.

i really thought i’d just post art and leave and that’s it. i never thought i’d have people encouraging my creative fixations. i never thought i’d start talking to people. i never thought i’d genuinely make new close friends online. i never thought i’d have impact(???) on people.

i’ve always wanted this blog to just be a fun time where i don’t have to take anything seriously without any pressure. (i’ve definitely gotten more comfy posting whatever and that really feels more freeing).

i never expected to make so many connections because genuinely i only interact without expecting anything back. and the fact people even reciprocated is SUCH a genuine surprise for me. all my experiences thus far is so unbelievable to me even to this day still.

from the bottom of my heart i am trying my best to be a good person, because i don’t think i am. which is why i try to be as kind to myself the way i refer to myself and my work, and that i try to uplift others whenever i can and make sure whatever they do or make will be worth it. i know this sounds so vain of me but if it helps people out and it makes me feel better, i think that’s enough.

also it honestly feels so dumb to realize and admit that technically-speaking, if it weren’t for twst and the following experiences it brought me, i wouldnt be alive rn hdhdj

so to the people who told me i’ve made their days a little brighter. to the people that told me that i’m one of their reasons for getting the courage to start posting/putting themselves out there. to the people who are just so kind and funny to me. and to the people in general who just decided that i’m worth it.

happy holidays!! i love you all, and thank you for being a part of my life no matter who you are 💜💝

[thatlenguy]

"it's the eighties go tear the fabric of the universe or become a lawyer or something"- me, describing this guy's story, circa 2024

(id in alt, reblogs appreciated.)

[guinevereslancelot]

starting to kind of date someone right before christmas is so stressful fr. do i get him a gift or what we've been on two dates but i'm seeing him tonight n it's christmas eve.....but what if he didn't get me anything then it will be weird.....

[finelythreadedsky]

i'm fundamentally opposed to book titles in translations of ancient epics ('beguilement on mount ida,' 'a hero's son awakens,' 'the olive tree bed,' 'camilla's finest hour,' 'juno served by a fury') bc it just seems like too much to me to presume you know what single thing the book is really about, but christopher logue is allowed to do it

[pearlymel]

A duty— Capitano

Synopsis: You were set to marry a fatui... Wait, is that a fucking harbinger?!

Wc: 3.3k

Warning(s): fem reader for this one, reader gets called "wife", Capitano is described to have dark blue eyes (i swear i did my research and they said yes to dark blue eyes), MDNI masturbation but no sex between them.

Notes: don't ask the reason why you are in an arranged marriage, my brain is fried. You can come up with your own reasons ! Wrote this with my eyes cursing at me to sleep so half not proofread. Part 2 is out here. Part 3 is out here!

Tick tock.

You watched as the clock ticked louder than usual, cringing to yourself when the sound became unpleasant to you, it was ringing in your ears.

Even the fatui around you were like statue's, you considered for a minute to check if they were even alive and breathing.

The door then swinged opened, everyone's head suddenly lowering slightly which made you even more confused, but you mimicked their gestures nonetheless for respect.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the room, the sound only getting louder and heavier the closer it got you.

The steps finally stopped, and your glance up to see a big—no, giant man standing right infront of you. He seemed to be wearing a helmet to cover his face, long black hair that protrutes from the back of his helmet and over his shoulders, and the big coat that was full of fur draped around his shoulders.

You must say, he went all out with his appearance as a fatui.

"Are you perhaps..." You started, breaking the silence that hung think in the air, "... The person who I'm arranged to marry?" You finish off, tilting your head curiously.

He doesn't answer immediately, rather, he looks down at you, observing your features which makes you wipe your sweaty hands to your sides.

"Il Capitano," he finally spoke, a raspy voice, you noted. Capitano extended his arm out for you, and you willingly accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.

"Member of the fatui Harbingers."

His next words made your hand freeze. Did he just say Harbinger? Not even a normal fatui like you thought, but a whole harbinger. Standing right before you, and shaking your hand.

Well you were screwed because what the hell have you gotten yourself into.

You both were quiet now, staring at eachother that it's becoming almost painfully awkward.

"Your name?" He asks, letting your hand go and it's like you were snapped back to reality when you immediately blurt out your name.

He repeats your name like you were on his kill-off list, but that was just overthinking on your part.

"I'd like your company from now on." He announced, stepping a tad closer to you which made you hold in your breath.

"then i shall be at your company..." Giving him your best small smile, you bowed your head again.

•••

Your wedding basically consisted of a witness and marriage papers that needed your signature. You didn't even get the chance to wear a traditional wedding dress nor have a honeymoon, which you don't think is necessary for now since everything was going too fast for your liking.

And Marina, your new personal maid, has become your new friend in this big estate of Capitano's, teaching you everything you must and mustn't do. Kind of like a 101 guide on how to be a wife.

Ever since that day a two months ago, you have not done anything but cause trouble.

You wanted to go out? Well you need your husband's permission. You want to eat something? Ask Marina first and she'll whip it for you no problem, and no you're not allowed to cook by yourself. You bombarded Capitano with questions about himself, but his answers wouldn't be enough as they were about a word or a sentence long.

As boring as that is, this is your life now for... Archons know how long. But you remember it being temporary, if your memory did not fail you.

Capitano had returned back to the estate for the night, and for the first time, you greeted him at the front door with a smile, wishing you could see him smile back at you.

"My lord," you bow elegantly like how Marina taught you, speaking even softly like nothing ever happened a week ago, the fit you remember throwing at him, demanding an answer on why you couldn't do anything around.

The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the clanking of his armor as he took a step closer to you, his towering figure cast an intimidating shadow upon you. "It is rare," he spoke in a blunt tone, "to see you this obedient." Capitano paused, his gaze scrutinizing your every move. "You have been behaving recently?"

You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your clothes nervously like you have been caught, a nervous quiet laugh escaping your lips, "i believe I've always behaved."

Capitano let out a terse sigh at your answer, his eyes unflinching through the slits of his helmet. "To your luck," he muttered, "you have been... tolerable." The word 'tolerable' hung heavily in the air, making it clear that it was the most positive adjective he could summon about you.

"However," he added after a few moments, "you seem more compliant than usual today. This is an... interesting change." His tone was questioning, as if hinting that he was wary of your compliance, expecting a hidden scheme behind it.

"Shall we have dinner?" You change the topic, changing your position to stand by his side so that both of you could walk to the dining room together. Capitano nods curtly, acknowledging your suggestion. He allows you to approach, though there is a stiffness in his movements as he lets you stand by his side.

The two of you begin walking to the dining room, your husband's steps were heavy, and it was evident that he was still in his full armor, the sound of his footsteps filling the hall.

"You are not usually the one to suggest dinner," he commented, "I thought today was nice... Despite how i always fight you, forgive me." you mumble apologetically.

You become quiet when he doesn't answer back, your hands clasped infront of you instead.

You both soon reached the dining hall, now sat opposite eachother on the dining table, Capitano's gaze remained fixed upon you as you both sat across each other, the coldness in his eyes didn't waver as he observed you intently. The silence seemed to thicken as the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against the ceramic dinnerware.

"How was your trip?" You asked casually while stuffing some veggies in your mouth.

"The trip was... uneventful," he replied tersely, pausing briefly before continuing. "The usual Fatui business, nothing that concerns you, wife." His words were as biting as ever, indicating that he wasn't keen on discussing his business matters with you.

"nofing mfun?" You ask again with your mouth too full this time, "don't speak with your mouth full of food." You swallow your food down when you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his tone, maybe he was even frowning if you could see him behind his helmet.

"i will retire to my chambers after this," you place down the silverware on the tablecloth to reach for the glass of water next to you. Capitano doesn't answer, but he nods slowly in return.

•••

The world was still and the moon illuminated the grounds outside, casting a soft glow upon the landscape. You could hear the occasional sound of crickets and the whispered rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside the expansive estate.

The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seemingly longer than the last as you anticipated Capitano's return this time. You fidgeted with the sheets, as you waited, you recalled Marina's words, a distant memory echoing in your head, "It is custom for a wife to wait for her husband to return before she retires to bed." You never did that, no. You would always sleep before he did and he would always wake up before you did. It was rare to even see him on your side of the bed, only sometimes when you would wake up from a sudden heavy weight shifting next to you.

Despite being married for quite some time, the connection between you two was still distant and cold. Capitano didn't seem to care for you on any emotional level, instead seeing you as a mere accessory to his life as a mighty Capitano of the Fatui Harbingers. A possession rather than a wife, you thought.

Capitano's steps echoed through the room as he stepped into your bedroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He closed the door behind him with a thump, shutting out the outside world and isolating the two of you in the room.

He observed you quietly for a moment, "You're not in bed yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"And why, pray tell, were you waiting for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Marina..." You mumble, standing up from the bed while looking away in a bit of embarrassment, "she taught me it was custom for a wife to wait for her husband."

Capitano seemed even more surprised upon hearing your answer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Marina... I see," he said slowly, of her name sending a ripple of irritation through him. Capitano disliked Marina's influence on you and how she seethe mentioned to be teaching you things.

He strode closer to you, by now you were used to his presence that it would not make you involuntary step back, you instead wait for his next move.

Lifting his hand to take a few strands of your hair was the last thing you expected. The strands resting on his hand as he lifted it closer to his helmet, almost like a gesture of kissing your hair which made you blink rapidly.

"You don't have to," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing the strands, "don't have to listen to Marina or anyone. You may do your own thing in this estate. I just want you well taken care of and safe."

You think you may have just fallen in love with the man because... Why is your heart beating so fast that it could explode? Or wait, can he hear it?

Capitano then let go of your hair, walking past you as he started loosening the straps of his armor, "it is late," he muttered with a rasp, his hands working quickly to remove his armor. The sound of armor being unthreaded echoed through the room, punctuated by the clinks of metal.

Taking off his helmet next so casually made your eyebrows furrow and sit back on the bed with your head tilted to get a closer look at him.

His eyes were glowing dark blue, the most beautiful shade of blue you think you've ever seen. The prettiest face too despite his dark and intimidating aura.

"you're beautiful." You whispered in awe, though Capitano, who was half-way through removing his armor, paused for a moment as he heard your words. He wasn't expecting such a compliment from you. It was rare for you to praise him, preferring to defy him more often than not.

"Beautiful?" he repeated, his voice gruff, you noticed his expressions and tried to act cool, your fingers nervously scratching your neck out of habit when you get shy.

"You're beautiful too, my wife." This completely caught you off gaurd, but it doesn't stop you from smiling and laughing it off quietly.

"Goodnight." Your head rests on the pillow, and this time you face him in your sleep, and he makes the effort to mimick your gestures.

"Goodnight."

•••

"Marina, where is my wife?" That was the first thing he asked your personal maid the moment he arrived back from his mission. His head looking around rather than looking down directly at Marina.

"The lady should be at her chambers."

"She's not."

"What?" Poor Marina's eyes widened, she was sure she just gave you a basket of fruits and snacks in your room, even asking you if you needed anything else.

"... Forgive me, my lord. She's probably in the bat—"

"She's not in the bathroom." He replied in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Where are you, my lady? Marinas thought through gritted teeth before exhaling out shakily, "i shall go find her at once." Marina began looking around every corner of the estate, and each room she opened without you in it, she would lose two years of her life with Capitano following her.

You couldn't have escaped, right?

Finally when she hurriedly went to the back of the estate, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting outside on the grass with the basket of goods she handed you earlier.

You wave your hands and both Capitano and Marina with a bright smile, causing his shoulders to relax when you were at last seen having fun by yourself.

"you're going to get me killed one day." Marina mouthed at you, but since there was some distance between you both, you just smiled and shrugged at her.

Capitano approached you slowly, his purposeful stride carrying him towards you with measured steps. You were perched on the grass, happily savoring the treats in your hands, when he suddenly materialized before you. "Sit." You pat the space next to you, to which he obliged without hesitation.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"No."

"Never? It's nice."

"You do seem to be enjoying yourself." He hums thoughtfully, and your smile widens, "The last couple of months have been interesting, and i get to know you better now." You say before popping a blueberry in your mouth to chew on.

"Blueberry?" You offer, raising your hand while holding a blueberry in between your thumb and forefinger.

You might think your husband is shy by how he looks around at first before taking off his helmet, cute. Eventually he leans to take the fruit between his teeth before chewing silently, the slight fruit juice glistening on his lips before his tongue along with his thumb swiped over his lower lip.

"you know," you suddenly speak, drawing your hips near him, "we've never kissed yet."

He pauses, staring at you while thinking deep about it, "does it bother you?"

"No, does the idea bother you?" Your question held a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.

Without a warning, his hand held your left cheek with gentleness, his lips slotting against yours for three seconds max before it ended.

What?

Your eyes were wide open the whole three seconds of it too!

"What was that?" The horror in your eyes was evident, not because you were scared, but because you were caught off guard and your eyes were fucking open. Capitano, upon seeing your eyes, he immediately tried pulling away, thinking he might've scared you in some way.

But you were quick to hold his wrist firmly so it wouldn't leave your cheek. "I liked it." You blurt out with the reddest cheeks ever, and he's almost amused.

"But it was too fast," you clear your throat before tilting your head closer, "may i, husband?" How can he refuse when you asked so nicely too?

Your lips latch onto his for the second time, and this time, you were going to give him a proper kiss. With your lips moving with ease against his, the sounds of soft smacks of your lips together filling the air which makes the tips of his ears go red.

You don't continue after both of you pull away to catch your breath, your eyes staring deeply into eachother as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Let's not do this again," your heart almost drops at his words. Did you mess up again? Did he not like how it felt—

"In public, i meant. I wouldn't like anyone to see you in such a state."

You can definitely hear the crickets in your head. "So we can continue kissing?"

"Mm," he only hums back before reaching for his helmet to put it back on. "I have to leave, i will be back by midnight," and when he stands up, it was your cue to stand up to bid him goodbye.

"Take care, husband." You wrap you arms around him, and he circles his arms back around you into a tight hug. It was not your first hug together, so you got used to the feeling of not being able to breath for a couple of seconds before of his tight arms around you.

•••

Capitano expected you to be awake when he returned from a few errands he had to run earlier, expecting you to wait for for him so that both of you could sleep at the same time ever since you did that day.

But you were asleep, peaceful and relaxed on your shared bed. You, wearing nothing but a silky nightgown like you always do, the blanket shuffled messily on you which revealed your legs slightly parted, and your arms hugging the pillow underneath you.

You looked like an angel to him, so vulnerable.. so pretty like this—god was he pent up from today.

He hands clenched tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white as he looked away, instead busying himself in taking off his usually neat coat which was now covered in few splatters of crimson red.

The sound of the running water masked his muttering, instantly regretting his thoughtlessness. As he grabbed the bar of soap, he began to wash vigorously, trying to expel the memories of combat and the musky scent of carnage. His body couldn't be gentler with himself though, as he massaged his muscles that ached from the constant strain.

His heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered back to you. You were the sweetest thing in his life, and he would never ever hurt you, in fact, he would rather die than have your precious skin scratched. Or even cutting off the heads without hesitating if one would hurt you.

He hates himself for envisioning your body under his, or thinking about how skilled you would be with your tongue or hands. he thought he was a selfish lustful man for thinking of such thing when you were sound asleep and tired.

Unable to bear it any longer, he reached for himself, stroking slowly at first before heavier thrusts took over all while imagining how it would feel like to be inside your soft and warm cunt instead of his hard and rough fist. The steam from the shower served to muffle his low groans, half in agony, half in ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he pictured your warm smile or shy and embarrassed facial expressions as his release came steadily forth, his forehead hit the cool tiles as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

After taking a moment to get himself together, he turned off the water and faced the mirror. How can he go back to bed after jerking off to the thought of your smile and sleeping figure? He would very much rather bang his head on the wall.

But he dried off with a sigh and headed back to bed, trying to keep his eyes half closed with his back turned to you as he sinked down on the mattress, taking a bit of blanket to cover himself with his eyes forced shut.

Your sudden arms that enveloped around him from behind is what gave Capitano a scare. A literal scare to the big man.

Were you awake this whole time? Did you hear him back in the bathroom? Was he too loud?

But your soft snores made his stiff shoulders sag in relief, indicating you were still in deep in your dreams.

He decided to turn around to face you, looking down at how innocent you looked, how the moonlight seemed to glow on your face from the window, giving your features a glowy shine.

"You have ruined me," he whispered carefully while brushing off strands of your hair away from your face to press a goodnight kiss on your forehead. "I am yours, ruin me, break me, and love me as much as you want, my wife."

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

series masterlist | next part

masterlist | join my taglist

“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[rainbowsmagicandshit]

Arthur repeals the magic ban! Yay! Druids, Catha, and all others come to Camelot to live peacefully under the reign of the Once And Future King! Yay! The Golden Age is starting! Yay! Merlin still hasn’t told Arthur about magic! …He’s just waiting for the right time. Things have just happened so fast and he just doesn’t know how to bring it all up.

Well, as Arthur and the rest of Camelot get more comfortable with magic, Arthur makes a decision. He’s tried teaching Merlin every type of weapon out there, and he’s hopeless with every one of them. But, Merlin still insists on coming with him on dangerous quests. So, Arthur decides to have Merlin try his hand at magic so he has some sort of self defense.

Merlin: ...You want me to what?

Arthur: I know! I know, Merlin! Magic can be dangerous! But I found a wonderful teacher for you. Say hello, Wallace.

Wallace: Hello

Arthur: He's perfectly trustworthy! And, it'll all be perfectly safe!

Merlin: Arthur, there's something you need to know. About me and magic--

Arthur: I know what you're going to say, Merlin, and--

Merlin: I really don't think you know--

Arthur: --please, for me, just try this. I know you don't really like magic. But please, Merlin. And, you know, even if you're crap at it--which you likely are like everything else--you could probably at least get your eyes to do the gold thing. That'll probably scare off some people from hurting you. Like a rattle snake.

Merlin: Arthur, really, you need to listen to me--

Arthur: I'll even do it with you!

Merlin: Arthur, really...Wait what?

Arthur: I'll do it with you! To show you how not dangerous it is! You have no reason to be scared of learning it, Merlin. It'll be easy.

Merlin: ...You're going to try to learn magic?

Arthur: Yes. How hard could it be. You're going to learn it.

Merlin, crossing his arms: Okay, then. I'd like to see this. Let's see you do magic, Once And Future Prat, Mr. Magic King

Arthur, smug at getting Merlin to agree: Good. Our first lesson starts now.

They both look to Wallace. Arthur happy, Merlin raising a judgmental eyebrow. Wallace starts with the history of magic and the theories behind using it. They don't get to the actually magic using part of the lesson day. Wallace does give them both some texts to study.

Their next lesson does get to the magic part.

Wallace: You want to really feel into the magic of the world around you. Feel the earth. Feel the connection you have to that earth. Feel the power that runs through it.

Merlin's enjoying it, letting the magic wash over him, and also peeking at Arthur who seems to be struggling with it. When asked, Merlin says he doesn't feel anything either. He wants to keep watching Arthur struggle.

Their next lesson, Wallace tries to teach them some basic spells. Lighting a candle. Moving a small object. Merlin laughs at all of Arthur's attempts.

Arthur: Well let's see you do better, Merlin!

Merlin just keeps laughing.

Their lessons keep getting interrupted by this or that. Merlin also has a very busy job. One would think that he'd have less work now that magic was legalized, but no. Now he just has more magic beasts roaming the lands, and people freaking out and attacking those magic beasts, leading to fights and stuff. He's always having to slip away to resolve the matter. He has gotten very good at calming dangerous magic beasts and relocating them. But, relocating takes longer than just killing, so he's still just as busy and gone just as much as he was when dealing with vengeful sorcerers.

Every single start of magic lesson:

Wallace: Did you do the homework I assigned?

Arthur, proud: Yes, I did. I did all the reading, but I did have some trouble with the spellwork.

Merlin, who was up all night settling a griffin family into a new nest on a tall mountain: Uh. No. Didn't have time.

Arthur: Merlin, this is your lesson!

Eventually, Merlin has his fill of watching Arthur struggling with magic, and decides that this time is better spent doing other things. So, during one of the lesson, when Wallace tells them to make the flower bloom, without looking up from the report he's going over, he waves his hand and his pot explodes with the force of plants that grow out of it instantly.

Wallace: ...

Arthur: ...

[ferberus-skull]

man. i was all ready to reopen my adopt shops, thinking that i could do this. wrote out the posts and everything. but then got up to do something and now i'm just sitting here staring like. can i really do this?

[english-history-trip]

Ever see a depiction of St. George and the Dragon? It's pretty fair to say if you've seen one, you've seen them all: Georgie on a horse stabbing a flailing dragon creature, princess piously kneeling in the background, vague landscape alluding to the homeland of the artist's patron.

The most varied part is the dragons. No one had a real definition for the thing, it seemed. For your pleasure and entertainment, I have ranked some medieval depictions based on how impressive George's feat seems once you see the dragon.

Paolo Uccello, 1456

This is a terrifying beast. The hell is that. Uccello was one of the first experimenters with perspective, so the thing also looks surreal, like it's taking place on Mars, or a Windows 95 screensaver. I would not want to fight that, I would not want to be tied to that. (Sometimes the princess is tied to the dragon for some reason.) 10/10

Horse thoughts: Maybe if I look at the ground it will be gone when I look up

Unknown artist, c. 1505

This is a rare change of form for the dragon; it's the only one I've seen actually flying (or at least falling with style). It doesn't look particularly deterred by the spear through its throat, either. Also, George looks appropriately nervous. On the other hand, it hasn't got teeth, it seems to be fuzzy rather than having scaly armor, and George is bolstered by his army of Henry VII and his children, most of whom definitely didn't actually die in infancy. Still, wouldn't want to fight it, wouldn't want my pet sheep near it. (Sometimes the princess has a pet sheep for some reason.) 9/10

Horse thoughts: I am so glad I wore my mightiest feather helmet for this

Raphael, 1505

We are coming to Dragons With Problems. This guy looks about comparable in size to George, and does have wings, but doesn't seem to be using these things to his advantage (and has he only got one wing?) And how does he deal with the neck? He does have a comically small head, but holding it up with such a twisty neck seems complicated at best. But most egregiously, he is doing the shitty superheroine pose where he is somehow simultaneously showcasing his chest and his butt, with its unnecessarily defined butthole (more on this later) (regrettably). 8/10 bc it's Raphael

Horse thoughts: AM I THE BESTEST BOI? AM I DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB? WE R DRAGON SLAYING BUDDIEZ

The Beauchamp Hours, c. 1401

We had a spirited debate about this one at work. Again, the dragon has gotten smaller, and this one hasn't got even one wing. He's basically a crocodile. So the debate became: would you want to fight a crocodile if you had a horse and a pointy stick? Would the horse trample the animal, who can't get on its hind legs, or freak out and throw its rider? Would the pointy stick be enough to pierce the croc's thick hide? In this case, George seems to be controlling his horse and putting his pointy stick in the dragon's weak spot, so we can be impressed by his skill and strategy. However, his hat is dumb. 7/10

Horse thoughts: Dehhhh

Book of Hours, c. 1480

Here we have the same kind of croco-dragon, but George's focus on his strategy has gone out the window. He's flailing around, not even looking at his target, he's about to lose his pointy stick, he hasn't got a hand on the reins, and his sword seems to only be poking the invisible dragon over his shoulder. All he's got going for him is that his hat is slightly less dumb. 6/10

Horse thoughts: Yay, new friend! Come play with me, new fr- what is happening

Final dragons put behind this Read More for your safety:

Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1432

I'm thinking this guy is at least semi-aquatic. Webbed feet, wings that seem more like fins, bipedal but top-heavy, jaws that seem more for scooping than biting. Maybe she's crawled up here from the nearby body of water to lay her eggs, and this is all a big misunderstanding. Moreover, George's dagged sleeves seem entirely impractical for the situation. 5/10

Horse thoughts: i got my hed stuk in a jar and now it is this way forever

Unknown artist, c. 15th century

I hate this. I hate everything about it. Why has it got human eyes and teeth. Why is its nose melting. Why has it got a dick on its face and balls under its chin. The fin/wings are back but they look even more useless. Also, George is shifty as hell, schlumped over in his saddle with his bowler hat thing over his eyes. The baby dragon at the bottom eating some hapless would-be rescuer is kind of metal. 4/10 at least the thing is gonna die

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Crack

Book of Hours, c. 1450

Remember what I said about the buttholes? First, sorry. Second, yeah, we're back to that. I'll admit this one is less about the danger from the dragon itself than the very specific choices the artist has made. They didn't need to do that. It's a lizard. They don't even have. And it's like they had an orifice budget and they skipped an exit wound for the spear to focus. Elsewhere. It's so detailed. And George had an even dumber hat. 2/10 take it away

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Weed

Book of Hours, c. 1415

This is just bullying. There isn't even a princess. That is clearly an infant. Look at that smug look on George's face as he swings his sword that's bigger than the whole little guy. This is the equivalent of when DJT Jr. hunted those sleeping endangered sheep. 1/10

Horse thoughts: ....yikes

And this is the previous one, but now the baby dragon is cute. He's chubby. He's got toe beans. He's Puff the Magic Dragon. His eyes have already gone white, implying that George is just kicking its corpse around for funsies. What's the difference between the dragon and the lamb in the background? That the dragon is dead, like our innocence. This George is truly deserving of the dumbest hat of all. 0/10 plus one more butthole for the road

Horse thoughts: Perhaps it is we who are the buttholes.

[luvrxbunny]

need

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Thigh Fucking

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv attempts, hurt pussy, some sad feelings, creampie(?)  (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.5k

A/N: *sulking in a corner* not proofread at all

He’s gotten used to it, the constant stabbing pain at the base of his stomach, the daydreams and fantasies that plague his every free minute. He’s more sensitive too, you can do anything and it’ll turn him on, make him hard, or raise a new fantasy for him to jerk off to later that night. He got used to waking up in the morning with a throbbing pain between his legs, or a cold wetness soaking his underwear. He got used to having to sneak away to the bathroom, lock himself in his office with his blinds pulled shut because you decided to drop by, or you made him lunch and left a note that was a bit too cute for him to handle. 

He never asked why you didn’t seem to have any sexual interest in him. He assumed that you either didn’t want him that way, or you weren't ready. So when you told him that the real reason was because you’re a virgin… His pain increased tenfold. All his fantasies, all the material he could think of late a night became visions of him taking your virginity, working his fat cock into your tight, unused, untouched, hole. It became a hindrance to his day, something he thought about more than he worried about canon events. He couldn’t get you out of his head, he didn't want to pressure you so he didn’t voice desperation, but it’s like you were trying to provoke him. 

You became more open, more okay with talking about sex, and your fantasies and asking him questions, voicing your curiosities. He found out that you actually think about him quite a bit, almost all the time apparently. There was an entire night, filled with a few blunts and alcohol where you spent hours, literal hours, telling him about all the fantasies you’ve had. You told him about your most used ones, all the ‘odd’ things that turn you on. He had to hide his boner, almost crushing his beer in his hand with how tense he was and his needs doubled again, turning his blood to molten lava.

Then you offered it to him, you came to him and told him you wanted him to be the one who takes your virginity, you wanted his cock to be the first to enter your special little cunt. He almost blacked out. He came at you like a frenzy that night, licking and sucking every part of your body before working you open and lining himself up with your precious hole. Only to find that he couldn’t fit. You couldn’t take all of him, he was able to get a quarter of his dick inside before tears were streaming down your face. You told him he could keep going, that you could take it but you were on the verge of sobbing, there wasn't one break in your stream of tears and this is not the way he wanted you crying on him. He pulled out against your will and spent the night comforting you, telling you it’s fine, that you can try again, as many times as you need… and that's what you guys did. 

It’s been about two months of trying to fit him inside you and it’s becoming unbearable. You guys try every other night, sometimes taking more time in between if you’re too sore or you guys are swamped at work. You guys haven’t done anything else in this entire period of time, wanting the next thing you do together, to be him taking your virginity. He agreed not realizing how long it would take. His hand is nowhere near sufficient anymore, no matter how he tries to pretend it’s yours- especially now that he’s had half his dick inside you. It’s a cycle of build-up, tease, Miguel comforting you, and no-release. 

You’re both pent-up. It’s another night of disappointment, you guys had gotten a little further this time, almost his whole cock and you began to think that this was it, Miguel was finally going to have your virginity. Instead, you tore. It was small, it didn’t even feel like much, a sharp burn at the base of your hole. You decided you would just power through, the burn was worth the fulfillment you’d feel at taking him all, at long last, having your boyfriend be completely connected with you, completely surrounded by you. But Miguel knew you were bleeding, there wasn’t enough that he could see it but he could smell the copper in the air and he forced you to stop. 

You fell asleep upset with yourself and listening to Miguel’s loving words, assuring you he’d rather you enjoy yourself than power through for him but you just felt like a failure. All your life you dreamed of losing your virginity to someone you love, someone who cares about you, someone who deserves it, and now that you’ve finally found that person, you can’t even give it to him. You’re too embarrassed to concede, to give up and jerk him off instead. You want him to cum inside you, you’ve even started birth control secretly, hoping to surprise him once he gets close enough. You’d fantasized about the moan he’d let out once telling him that he can just cum inside you, but you’re too small to even get him anywhere near cumming, let alone inside you. 

You wake up to Miguel groaning in pain, you’re a bit scared at the noise but your fear gets replaced by sadness once you see the source of his pain; a fat bulge resting over his thigh, tenting the sheets slightly. You peak up at his face, making sure it’s slack with sleep before focusing on his hard cock again. You sit, lift your head and rest it on your palm, leaning over Miguel a bit as your other hand comes to stroke over the bulge gently. Your eyes are fixed on his face, watching his eyebrows twitch with your touch. It brings a little rush of pleasure through you, knowing you can pleasure him with the slightest bit of pressure. 

You cover him with your hand, cupping it to feel its length and girth against your palm. He whimpers lightly, a sound you’ve never even fantasized about hearing from him, but you know that no matter what you do, you need to hear it again. You can feel his warmth and the way he’s pulsing under your hand, his fingers dig into the sheets gently next to his thighs and his hips lift off the bed momentarily, trying to pleasure himself with you. 

Your eyes leave his face to watch his movements, deciding to give him some mercy and rub your hand along his shaft, stimulating him through his sweatpants and the thin blanket. You’re mesmerized by his stuttering, sleepy movements, at the soft whimpers that fall loosely from his lips. A gasp breaks the trance and his hands lift from the bed quickly to grip your wrists and his hips thrust up, forcing your palm to put pressure on his sensitive cock and just stay. “B-Baby- ”

His voice is thick and confused with delirium, still not completely aware of what’s happening but all he knows is he doesn’t want you to stop. He’s buzzing, thrumming, and vibrating with arousal, with desperation for you, need for you.  

His eyes meet yours in the dark, taking in your obviously turned-on state, how dilated your eyes are and how your sweet scent is already soaking the air, your taste ghosting over his tongue with every breath he takes. His eyes roll back at the thought, paired with your pressure on his throbbing cock and you pull away. He tries to hold in his groan, trying to be grateful for anything you’ll give him but a small squeak of sadness is what comes out and he chuckles softly at the noise. 

You’re still silent, surrounded by your need for him, the only thought in your head is that you need to make him cum. His thick arm comes around you, resting next to your shoulder and pushing you to him gently, nudging you in his direction for a kiss. You smile and drape yourself over his chest, leaning on him and pressing your lips to him. He groans and pulls you closer, admiring your warmth and pressing his cock into the plush of your thighs as he pulls you on top of him. You giggle and help him situate you over him, the base of his cock resting against your neglected clit, sending a shock of pleasure through you and turning your giggles into a light whine. 

Miguel breathes in a sharp breath at your noise, trying to ignore how badly he wants to hold you down and just grind his cock into you until he cums, staining his clothes and hopefully leaving a mark on yours but he keeps himself in check, offering you a fond smile instead. “You okay, amor?” His hand is rubbing up and down your back now, calmly like he isn’t throbbing against your clit right now. You think of just grinding into him, sitting up to straddle him,  and just fucking his bulge into your clit until you’re cumming all over him. “I wanna cum.” Your voice is weak and pathetic, tired and desperate. 

His eyelids flutter at your words and tone, and his arms tense around you, pressing his muscles into your sides for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Yeah? I can-” He takes another shaky breath as his cock throbs beneath you. “I can make that happen, baby. How do you want it?” His stomach is burning at his words, at the hope of getting to touch you, to make you cum. You’re just staring at him, watching him as you think, trying to figure out a way that will satisfy you both. He’s just getting hotter under your gaze, riled up further by your eyes as his hips rise off the bed slowly, pressing his cock into you subconsciously and his eyelids flutter shut at the pleasure.

Your brain is hazy with his movements, his subtle desperation, it’s driving you crazy. You arch your back and seize his lips again with a soft moan. His hands grip your hips, pulling you into him with a groan. You pull away and pant against his lips, running your fingers through his slightly tangled curls and pressing your forehead against his. “Put it against me. Between my thighs.” He growls at your request and flips you both onto your sides, already nodding at you and working his sweatpants off of his legs, kicking them off under the covers. “You want that, honey?” 

His hand cups your face as his other wrestles his cock from its confines. “You want that? Take these off.” He yanks at your underwear, roughly enough that they dig into your skin harshly before snapping back. You wiggle them off and slide your shirt off, wanting to be as close to Miguel as you can. You can’t stop the pout that settles on your face when you realize he plans to leave his shirt on. He laughs lovingly at your face. “Want me to take it off?” He says with a teasing tilt to his voice. You laugh and slide closer to him, taking the hem of his shirt into your hands and already trying to pull it over his head. “Jus wanna be closer t’you, Miggy.” 

The nickname flips something inside him. You only use that name when you’re feeling extra soft for him, extra tender, and needy. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He pulls you in for a quick kiss before taking his shirt off and kissing you again, swallowing the whine you give him when your naked body rests against his. His wet cock slides against your skin, teasing his sensitive tip, forcing a ragged moan from his mouth when it slides over your mound. You giggle at his reaction, smiling at his eyes, squeezed shut as he takes slow breaths, trying to calm himself. You open your legs, grip his cock, and rest it on your thigh, his eyes snap open. You smile and pull him in for another kiss as he reaches behind him blindly for some lube, lotion, coconut oil- something to get your thighs anywhere near as wet as your pussy is. 

You take rest your hand over his as he rubs himself with lube, moaning into your mouth at the sensation. He brings his hand to your face, giggling and apologizing when it smears with lube but devouring you in a kiss once you tell him it’s okay. You close your legs over his cock and whimper into the kiss when his shaft fits itself between your lips. He pulls away with a moan and his hips start fucking into you fervently, overly sensitive and desperate after months of denial. You’re moaning loud and whiny at the way he’s assaulting your clit, constantly stimulating her from the way he’s thrusting against you. You’re digging into his shoulders, feeling the way they flex as his hands grip your hips and run all over your body frantically. 

“I’m not gonna last, mi amor.” The words spit out of him quickly as his thrusts get shorter, more focused on making himself cum than making the moment last. His head is clouded with need, his balls are pulsing painfully and his cock is throbbing between your thighs. You’re gripping his hair like you’ll fly away if you let go and moaning his name like it’s the only word you know. Your hips are bucking into him too now, some incoherent words falling from your lips like music to his ears. 

You’re trying to tell him that you won’t last either, that you’re on the brink of cumming already, that you’ve been craving him for months, and finally having him is one of the best things you’ve felt but your brain has been shut off since he started moving his hips. You can feel the heat in your stomach bubbling over already, spilling into your bloodstream as you shake against him. “Mig-” Your thighs tense and shake around his cock as he groans your name, almost overwhelmed with how you’re stimulating his cock, at how you’ve been unable to get any sound out but once you’re cumming you can find the strength to say his name. You’re shaking on him, your eyes are rolled back into your head and your jaw is dropped open in a silent moan. 

He’s able to grunt out a warning to you before thrusting once- twice- you reach down for his cock and spread your legs, opening to fit him against your entrance. His third thrust stutters to a stop and he’s cumming. 

Fuck. He’s cumming inside you. 

He folds over like he’s been punched in the gut, a rough moan tearing from his chest as his cock throbs against your wet walls. He sounds distraught, like you’ve ruined him. His entire body is tensing in time with the ropes of cum he’s filling you with. It’s an entire flood, a surplus of cum he’s pouring into you, he feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. He never even imagined that you’d let him cum inside you, let alone that it’d feel so fucking good. He shudders out a groan and holds you to his chest, giving you curt thrusts to ensure he doesn’t push in too deep but still trying to fuck him cum into you. His eyes are crossed painfully and all the air is gone from his lungs as you pulse around him, massaging his tip and forcing him to give you more cum.

Your name is the only thing he can utter as his cock spews its last few ropes into you, softening and letting his cum leak onto your thighs, leaving a slick, shimmering trail on you as it soaks into the bed.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[moonlight-records]

Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts I LN4 (Pt. II)

pairing: Jock!Lando Norris x Nerd!Reader

summary: Formula Ivy Academy, or FIA for short, is the most renowned private in the world who takes such a select few. Usually those from wealth with status and secrets and so much to lose. Yet, you are selected to join the FIA on a full scholarship. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain scares a lot students, especially their star athlete who will do anything to protect those he cares about. Though, he didn't expect you to have as much of a...bite to you for a little nobody.

warning: jealous!lando. also possessive lando again, ig. bestie!charles, MESSY!FRANCO!!! god it becomes SO messy!!! franco is so smooth too. mention of make out. mention of eating out & fingering (f receiving). um idk after, kinda dying like ferrari's strategy by not having it beta read

fc: none!

a/n: since everyone is asking!!! here’s a new part!!! also once again, i opened a ko-fi! feel free to show extra love 💕

wc: 4.5K

part 1 | current | part 3

“Has Lando’s attitude gotten any better since last week?”

“No.”

“Ha! Well, surely he’s been a bit better at practices, no?”

“That, he has. I think it’s because Max snapped at him and the coach backed Max up. Though he still gives me dirty glares during practice when he’s not speaking to me.” Charles shrugs, “though I am unbothered. I wasn’t the one who tried to bribe someone out of this school for people who don’t actually truly like me. Still baffles me that he did that considering how half the school talks poorly about him behind his back. Some are not as subtle as others.”

“Well, everyone has their reasons. Maybe he was more so worried about his friends. Max, Oscar, you—”

“I don't know if I would qualify as a friend anymore.”

“I would consider you a friend if I was Lando,” you admit with a small smile, “friends fight. That’s just the nature of any relationship, romantic or not. I bet he’ll let it go and muster up some apology for being such a dick to you.”

“And you.”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Lando apologize to me? My dear friend, are you sure you don’t smoke anything? Because that sounds like straight delusion. Did you find the delusion at the store? If so, did you get extra because I would love some.” You remark.

“Y/N. I’m serious here.”

“So am I, Charlie. Lando is never going to apologize to me for the shit he tried to pull on me last week.” You lean forward in your seat while making a face at the thought of Lando actually apologizing to you, “Him apologizing means that he was wrong and him admitting that he’s wrong is like hell freezing over or God admitting he was wrong to cast Lucifer out of heaven or like a guy actually knowing where the clit is or—”

“Y/N!” Charles almost shrieks before shuffling closer and murmuring, “you cannot just say things like that! You know how they are about language—”

“Oh bite me.” You groan softly while looking at Charles unimpressed, “The FIA only made that rule because Max was stupid enough to curse at his advisor. Though Marko totally deserved it, if you ask me. Besides.” You take a chance to look on either side of you before looking back at Charles, “we’re the only two here so I doubt anybody heard me. If they did, I think a lot of the girls would be agreeing with my statement and if it was faculty, I will happily take my community service hours because I am not apologizing for telling the truth.” You lean back in your seat with a shrug.

You watch Charles open and close his mouth as he tries to think of something to say and him growing increasingly frustrated because he really had nothing to say besides ‘you’re right, y/n’. You giggle seeing Charles huff and lean back in his chair, grumbling that “ you have some fair points.” You just nod before looking back down at all your notebook. You take a moment before tipping your laptop screen back as you go back to rewriting your notes as silence falls over you and Charles.

“I’ll be right back.” You tear your gaze away from your laptop looking at Charles who is gently pushing his books and laptop back onto the table. “I promised Arthur I would help him with piano and I have to meet him in ten minutes. I’ll be back soon,” Charles is rapidly telling you as he grabs his coat, hastily walking away. You stare, mouth a bit open before just accepting your fate and turning back around. Whatever, it’s fine.

You start finding your groove again as you see just a flash of color across from you. Still, you didn’t even acknowledge the other as you continued to take these notes down. You take a few more minutes to get through the section and let out a sigh of relief. That was one out of four, anyway. Leaning back, you rub your eyes and decide you can take a five minute break. Dropping your hands, you expect to see Charles sitting across from you once again. Instead, someone else sat in Charles' seat.

The universe just loves to test your patience. It has barely been a week since the incident with Lando that you had swore you were done. No more curly hair, greenish eyes, stupid contagious smile, friendly heartthrobs in your life. It was so oddly specific that you were certain the universe would listen but instead the universe decided to test you if you were really done since you now have curly hair, hazel green eyes, stupidly friendly and contagious smile sitting right across from you who was watching you with a gentle smile.

“Franco?”

“Y/N. There you are.” Franco leans forward and puts his elbows on the table, “Leave it to you to find the coolest hidden spot in the library.” He leans over to look at your laptop and then sits back down. “Are you rewriting notes? Gross. I am very sure you have an uh…” he pauses, “photographic memory. That is the word. You already know the things, please put the notes down and have social interactions?”

“Oh why thank you for thinking I have a photographic memory but I do in fact study a lot.” You giggle and feel a blush creep onto your face at the compliment. “I am having social interaction. Am I not talking to you?” You raise a brow at him smiling. “I can talk to you while rewriting my notes, you know.”

“Yes but I do not want you to do that but that means I only have half your attention,” Franco complains as he gently closes your laptop screen shut and grabs your hands. You look at Franco and feel your face turn as red as the school’s hoodie while looking at the other, “and that just will not do.” Franco brings your hand to cup his cheek while looking at you, “you’re always taking notes and talking. I want one hundred percent of your time. Just this once, please?”

You were not the universe’s strongest warrior. The way that Franco looked at you with those wide eyes and small pout. You had found yourself letting your resolve melt quickly as you gently shut your laptop, elbow on the table while resting your cheek against your palm. “Yeah,” you find yourself saying while smiling dreamily at your fellow classmate, “I can do that.”

“Wonderful!” Franco praises as he leans back slightly. “Now, where were we last time we talked?” Franco thinks trying to recall, “I think we were talking about Hamilton—”

“And Toto,” you add on with a grin.

“Right, right,” Franco nods while glancing around before leaning in slightly. “I’m going fucking insane. They have Hamilton coming in as the guest designer for the fashion students this year and they moved the fashion kids into the arts building after that fire. Which means,” Franco grumbles, “I have the fortunate bad luck of seeing Lewis four times a week almost all day.”

“Why is that bad? He’s like your biggest celebrity crush.”

“That’s the thing!” Franco hisses, “He’s a celebrity crush. A crush that was never to see my existence or anything. Now instead of kilometers separating us, it’s just one floor! You think a man that is perfect should be looking at someone like me?” Franco looks at you, horrified, “Y/N. Please. I’ve never been so stressed over my looks before going to class. I don’t know how much longer my fragile heart can take seeing Lewis in all his glorious outfits with all those lovely rings…and tattoos…and stay sane.” Franco drops his head in defeat before looking back up at you. “Well, what about you? How’s your celebrity crush on Toto?”

You sigh and look away defeated. “Sadly, he is no longer a celebrity crush. He’s…” You cover your mouth as you take a moment. You close your eyes before taking a deep breath in and out. “Toto Wolff is…off the roster,” you whisper dramatically while looking at Franco. Franco gasps loudly, covering his mouth.

“What?! Say it ain’t so! Toto Wolff has been on the roster since the day we created the rosters,” Franco stares in disbelief, “What happened? What did he do that was so…dirty that you had to take him off the roster completely.

You stare at Franco before looking away, shaking your head slightly. “He did the one thing that I was terrified of. The only thing that would have me kick a man such as Toto Wolff off the damn roster…he became a full time professor here.” You finally admit, covering your mouth again in disbelief that your worst nightmare came true. You hear Franco gasp again and you nod, “I know. It’s such a sad day. We lost one of our strongest.”

“Here lies Toto Wolff. That man saw the rise of your beautifully curated roster. A moment of silence for our beloved.” Franco whispers as he sits there with you. You two glance at each other and you two break out into laughter. You both lean in, giggling while trying to hush the other so you two don’t get in trouble for being so loud. “Though seriously, he became a full time professor here? Good for him but that truly is a shame. We got new eye candy but at what cost?”

“I know! But hey, at least his teaching style is unique so at least I am very engaged which is really a good thing plus him looking as hot as he does since he’s a psychopath. Who the hell has classes at eight in the morning? I can’t even be happy that it’s once a week because it’s a three hour class that starts promptly at eight in the morning on Monday. Maybe it is a good thing Toto became a professor because this is too much.”

Franco’s been laughing silently the entire time, silently getting more dramatic as you spoke so he wouldn’t scream in the middle of the library. You watch him for a moment before laughing as well, grabbing onto his arms as the two of you laugh.

You two calm down and lean back as someone clears their throat. The two of you look up and your face falls to horror when cold stormy green eyes land on you. You shift uncomfortably as you become defensive. Shoulder a bit further back. Back a bit straighter. Chin a bit higher. You force a smile at the British student while trying to explode him with your mind.

“Y/N.” Lando remarks while looking down at you with pure raging dislike, “Funny seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Ha.” Lando looks at Franco and relaxes slightly. “Dude. Come on. I’ve been looking for you for the past ten minutes, we have to grab Oscar before meeting up with Max and Carlos soon. I really don’t need Carlos getting on me for being late.”

“Oh sorry. I just got so distracted.” Franco tells Lando and stands.

“What were you even doing? Speaking to Y/N?” You glare at Lando. Franco is way too sweet to be dragged into your bullshit with Lando before looking back at Franco. It seems that the Brit has a soft spot for your fellow freshman or something because Lando clears his throat before he keeps speaking, “I didn’t realize you two knew each other. Didn’t mean to sound so rude…sorry.”

Holy shit. Did hell finally freeze over? Maybe it’s pigs flying. Or he’s finally getting laid. It really doesn’t matter the reason why right now because you were still in disbelief that Lando apologized. You never thought you’d live to see the day where Lando apologized in general but apologizing because of the rude tone he had when speaking about you? Did you end up in the Twilight Zone? No no this must be a joke. Okay, cut the cameras. Seriously the cameras can STOP rolling.

“Oh of course I know Y/N! We’re in the same graduating class and we have a few gen eds together. It’s just hard given our schedules but,” Franco grins, “We make it work. Though! Before I leave I actually want to know if you’d be interested in grabbing lunch with me tomorrow” Franco announces as he looks at you, smiling, “could be a date if you want?”

Suddenly the world just freezes and you’re stuck at the library table staring in complete shock at the turn of the events. You hadn’t even told Franco about Lando, not having the heart for his poor heart to be crushed by how Lando could be so nasty. Still, you’re trying to figure out how the hell this conversation got onto the topic of Franco asking you out on a date.

In the heat of the moment, you can’t help but turn to look at Lando as if he heard Franco correctly. Maybe you’ve just fallen asleep and this is some weird dream or something. You come to the shocking yet unsuspecting realization that this is not a dream when Lando meets your gaze having the same idea. You both look back at Franco in a state of shock and confusion. “A date?” You and Lando ask in union.

“Yes.” Franco laughs and smiles widely at you and Lando before looking back at you, “well? Would you like to get lunch with me? As a date?”

“Yes.” You smile while nodding, “I would love to get lunch with you as a date.”

You stare at Franco with a stupid smile. You hadn’t expected this was how your evening would go but you were more than happy about it. You were so happy, that Lando’s look of shock turned to disgust didn’t even phase you. Finally, you’re crashing back to reality when Lando annoyingly clears his throat while looking down at the two of you. “Well, lovebirds,” Lando forces a smile but you can feel the burn his venomous words carry, “sorry to cut the moment short but we really have to leave now, Franco.” Lando manages through gritted teeth.

“Right! Sorry again.” Franco gathers his things and looks at you, “I’ll text you later. Bye Y/N,” Franco waves before Lando sends him off, telling him he’ll be right out.

You watch Franco go off and sigh dreamily. You glance away for a moment before doing a double take. Your smile morphs into a scowl while looking at Lando who—hasn’t moved yet. Looking him up and down, you raise a brow. “Can I help you?”

“Why did you say yes to Franco?”

“You really think you’re entitled to that after the shit you pulled last week?” You raise a brow while clicking your tongue, “besides. Why do you even care?”

“Because Franco’s a freshman and I don’t need him distracted,” Lando snaps and you roll your eyes. Here he goes again about distractions and shit. Lando glances away and huffs. “Also because he’s a bit of a player.”

“Takes one to know one, yeah?”

Lando glares at you and sneers slightly. “So what? I wouldn’t want him wasting any of his time on you.”

“Why?”

“You’d probably bore him to death.” Looking down at you as Lando gives it a beat. “Also I doubt you’d know how to get him off for your first time. Hell, I don’t think you’d know how to get anybody off. Not even yourself.” Giving you a condescending smile, “I would hate for him to be a part of your body count.”

“Oh.” You laugh slightly, “That’s adorable. Well. You know what? I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Lando’s a bit taken aback. “I—what?”

“You know. I’ve been doing some thinking. I think we didn’t quite see eye-to-eye.” You continue as you pack your things. “Which isn’t really fair because you were truly just looking out for your friends. Like you’re doing right now.” Standing straight, “which I just wanna say is the sweetest thing ever so. I want to thank you and I’ve figured out the best way to do that.”

“…Which is…?” Lando leans in slightly, waiting for your answer.

“Which is…letting you know in great detail not only how good Franco’s gonna fuck me this weekend but you’ll also have to listen how Franco’s not going to want anybody else when I’m done with him.” You feign innocence to Lando as you sling your backpack over your shoulders before walking away.

“Now, don’t you move a single muscle,” Franco kisses your forehead with a smile “You just focus on resting and I’ll handle everything for dinner tonight, okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good girl.” Franco winks before leaving your dorm. 

You lay in your bed staring where Franco had just left before rolling over, grunting as your legs failed to work with you. Fumbling around the messy sheets and pillows till you find your phone and immediately open the texts messages because you had to tell someone about the date you just had:

A MINX. HE’S A MINX I TELL YOU. - YN

WHO? WHAT? THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??? - CL

FRANCO. FRANCO IS NOTHING MORE THAN A MINX!!!!-YN

??????-CL

So Franco asked me out on a date for lunch today—YN

HE WHAT?! WHEN?-YN

Yesterday after you disappeared. He showed up and Lando came looking for him.-YN

LANDO? WHAT? Oh my god was he nasty to you? I’ll hurt him istg-CL

No. No he was…civil. Or civilish while Franco was around. But anyway, yeah Lando was asking like why Franco was talking to me cause we don’t really talk and like they had to go to Max’s place and Franco was like “oh we’re in the same graduating class” and stuff but before he left he was like “oh do you wanna get lunch with me tomorrow as a date?'“-YN

And I was gagged! I thought it heard it wrong so I looked at Lando who was LOOKING AT ME THE SAME WAY so we realize oh this is real. This is happening and Franco wants to grab lunch with me like a date. So I say yes, obviously.-YN

IN FRONT OF LANDO!?-CL

Yeah cause fuck him!!! If my happiness is his kryptonite to having a good day, then so fucking be it. But wait!! There’s more!-YN

TELL ME! TELL ME!-CL

So Lando hangs behind and Franco leaves. Then Lando looks at me all like “why’d you say yes?” Bitch what do you mean???-YN

Oh my god, he did not!!-CL

He totally did!!!-YN

Ew. Why does it have a jealous undertone?? possessiveness???-CL

It’s giving ‘you belong to me�� or like ‘nobody else can have you because I want you’ like some dark romance MMC. This is not a bully romance with a mafia subplot or some shit!!-YN

PREACH 👏👏👏. So what happened after?!-CL

Oh so I was like “i’m not telling you after the shit you pulled last week” and asking why he cares and he’s going on about how Franco’s a freshman and he can’t get distracted and how he’s a bit of a player, which he isn’t he’s just kind of a himbo, and I was like “oh takes one to know one, yeah?”-YN

YOU DID NOT. SHUT UP OH Y/N I LOVE YOU SO MUCH-CL

I did and that pissed Lando off. He starts going on about how I don’t know how to get anybody off and I’d bore Franco to death and how he would never want Franco a part of my body count. First off I got three bodies and I have pleased all three, thank you very much but also like fuck Lando!! His opinion? Doesn’t matter!! So I started bout how ‘oh we got off on the wrong foot’ and ‘you’re right’ to throw him for a loop before I told him I wanted to ‘thank him’ for ‘opening my eyes’ and his thank you is listening, in great detail, to Franco fuck me this entire weekend and then listening to Franco wanting nobody else 💋-YN

YNNNN!!! OH MY GOOOOOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! Ugh yes that’s some queen shit. Though how does that tie into Franco being a minx??-CL

BECAUSE. It’s Friday. He has no classes. Mine got canceled so I decided, oh why don’t we stay in today, right? soooo like, we go to the cafe, i get food (that Franco paid for) cause he’s not hungry right now which is whatever, and then we head back to my dorm. We’re watching tv, we’re talking, and I finish eating. It’s great, right??-YN

Yes, correct.-CL

So as I’m talking, I start talking about Lando. Franco’s apologizing, I’m telling him he shouldn’t be apologizing. He’s asking if he should stop hanging out with Lando and you know me. I’m not gonna police people on their friends so I told him no. As long as he holds Lando accountable, then I don’t care. If Franco wants to drop Lando that’s his own doing.-YN

Anyway, we keep talking and laughing. We’re getting closer. And then…you know-YN

…What happened? 👀👀-CL

We start kissing. Then it turns into a lazy makeout. Hands start wandering, nothing real scandalous ya know?-YN

Uh huh…-CL

Then this mf pulls away and is like “Oh, I’m real hungry”-YN

FRANCO!!! WTFF!!!!-CL

OH WAIT!! Cause that’s what I thought. I was like “Oh really? Like now? I mean I guess we can go back to the cafe.” Meanwhile he’s actively getting off the bed. Then Franco pulls me by my ankles to the edge of the bed. so i'm thinking he’s really hungry so I go to sit up and he pushes me back down talking bout some “where’re you going mami?”-YN

SIR?? EXCUSE ME??? I can hear the accent now, oh my god that’s—wow-CL

OH BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE!!!-YN

So first, don’t be calling me mami unless you plan on making me an actual mom. Second, I’m looking at him confused like “you said you were hungry” and he’s like “yeah?” and I was like “Oh I’m sorry, I just thought you’d want me to join you going to the cafe to get lunch” and he’s looking at me like I got ten heads before going like “the cafe? Why would we go to the cafe?” He’s actively like leaning over me while holding my thighs and slowly pushing them opening talking bout “I don’t need the cafe when I got a full five meal course right here sprawled out in front of me.”-YN

FRANCO!?! OH MY GOD—I have to fan myself. Wow that was—🥵🥵🥵🥵-CL

RIGHT?!?!-YN

WELL??-CL

…Charles when I tell you. I do not believe in god but I am pretty sure I was knocking on his door. Two hours. I was seeing god for TWO HOURS!!! Charles when I tell you that man had me screaming crying throwing up I MEAN IT. Charles, I'm still in bed. My legs are still shaking. I can’t feel them.-YN

What I wouldn’t give to be sucked off like that—CL

But wait. There’s a cherry on top of all of this.-YN

WHAT COULD TOP THIS?-CL

Franco really had to make sure everyone knew what was happening. I mean, he’s on his knee with my hips hanging off. He’s got one hand gripping my ass like it’s his lifeline to this world. He’s between my thighs and eating me out like he is a man up next on death row and I am his final fucking meal. He pushed all the pillows away. Got my wrists pinned to my stomach with his other hand. I am solely at his mercy and I cannot keep quiet for the life of me and he ate it up. I was so loud, I heard banging from upstairs.-YN

Banging?-CL

Yeah. Like someone was hitting a broom against the floor. To signal to shut up, which Franco and I ignored. More Franco than me, I couldn’t see straight and that was an hour in. Do you know, what the banging was though???-YN

A disgruntled upstairs neighbor???-CL

Yeah. Do you remember who my upstairs neighbor is?-YN

…OH MY FUCKING GOD, LANDO LISTENED TO YOU GETTING THE BEST HEAD OF YOUR LIFE?-CL

Yes SIIIIIIIIRRRRRR. Dude Lando got so mad he CALLED Franco in the middle of it and he answered.-YN

HE ANSWERED?!-CL

Yes. He answered. Pulls back enough to start fingering me and hands be a pillow telling me to bite down on it which I do without a second fucking thought. But tell me why Franco put Lando on speaker and Lando asking “what are you doing right now??” and Franco looks me dead in the fucking eyes going on bout “Oh I’m just having lunch right now with Y/N.” and Lando’s like “oh yeah? Is that so? Then why the fuck is she screaming so god damn loud? Huh? Thought it was a lunch date?” and Charles. I shit you the fuck NOT, Franco without missing a beat goes, “It is. She’s my lunch and my mother always told me to finish everything on my plate and I plan to do just that.” THEN HUNG UP THE PHONE AND WENT RIGHT BACK TO EATING ME OUT.-YN

Y/N…you are the luckiest bitch around. Holy fucking shit. I need a man like Franco—do we know if Franco swings both ways??-CL

He does. Though you might not like him. He’s got a huge crush on Lewis—YN

Never mind. You keep Franco. Gives me an easier chance to steal Lewis' heart. Or just get one chance with him.-CL

I think you can do it. I believe. Anyway, yeah so that happened and—YN

You accidentally send your message to Charles early when a new text comes through. It’s by an unknown number and you click on it.

Lacrosse field. 8pm. We need to talk.-Unk

You think for a moment trying to figure out who this could be. No names come to your mind so you think that someone texted the wrong number. Typically, you’d leave unknown numbers alone but you got the impression that this was something important and urgent that you respond.

Oh I’m sorry, you have the wrong number-YN

I don’t-Unk

Excuse me?-YN

You look up hearing the familiar broom hitting against the floor. You scowl at Lando and his antics before looking back at your phone. Huh. That was…too coincidental. You lay there for a moment before the banging came again, this time a bit more urgent. You send your message before realizing it.

Lando?-YN

The banging stops. Suddenly, your dorm is eerily quiet and you hold your breath. You watch the familiar three bubbles appear and disappear before appearing again as your heart sinks.

Bingo. 8pm. Tonight. Lacrosse field. Alone.-LN

tag list: @dripostsstuff, @tinyhrry, @formulaho, @green--beanie, @brekkers-whore.

@fat-meh, @landossainz, @jaydensluv, @carpediem241108, @rayaharper,

@bookishnerd1132, @asmoothoperator, @loloekie, @kawaiifurychaos

@st0rmzi3, @tygecjjd, @eclipsedcherry, @linnygirl09, @ln4-cl16-world

@poppymelonz, @katiascraft, @fangirl125reader, @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs, @norrisleclercf1

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, smut mndi, chronic pain mention, I always feel like my confessions are awk so sorry if you think this one is too

note for minors: a lot of this chapter is smut, but you can read up until the red line without worrying about it. There's no summary this time because it really is just smut for smut's sake and all the character development happens before it starts, so you won't need it for the plot. There is one vague mention of boners before the red line (sorry it's just for a laugh), but that's it

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 3.2k words

You catch on quickly to what’s happened between Sirius and Remus. What you don’t understand is why they’ve interrupted it to come talk to you. And how you could be wrong twice—do they cancel out if you were truly right the first time? 

Clearly, the chemistry you’d felt between Remus and Sirius wasn’t imagined. You’d convinced yourself you must’ve gotten your wires crossed—otherwise why would Remus have kissed you?—but evidently they’ve come to some sort of agreement. Are they here to ask for your permission? Intra-team fornicating: approved. 

You’re not sure if you wish they’d waited until they were less hard to pop by. 

“Um.” You keep your eyes very intentionally on the boys’ faces. “What’s up?” 

Sirius looks almost nervous, skittish even, but Remus’ hand wraps around his to pull him closer to your doorway. Your heart does something funny in your chest. 

“Could we talk?” Sirius asks. 

“Er…yeah. Of course.” You step aside, letting them into your small room. Remus sits politely on the edge of your bed, giving you deja vu from the night before, while Sirius makes himself comfortable further back. He leans his side into your pillow where it’s propped up on the wall. 

“We were talking,” starts Remus, “and I told Sirius about what happened between us.” 

Your next breath seems to come slower. Unwillingly, your gaze flits to Sirius, but he looks impassive, only like he might be scrutinizing you in turn. You look back at Remus. “You did?” 

“I did,” he says gently. “But it wasn’t—” 

“Babe,” Sirius interrupts, “don’t look so freaked. What’s the matter? And why are you still standing there?” 

You realize you’re hugging yourself around your middle, standing awkwardly in front of the bed. “I’m not sure it’s meant to hold three people,” you say weakly. 

Sirius snorts, whatever nervousness he’d arrived with vanishing. Sirius has always been good this way; he can only ever panic when no one else is, but the second you’re panicking too he’s all ease. 

“Don’t be silly.” He pats the space between himself and Remus. It’s as ample as the bed allows, which isn’t saying much. “It’ll be fine. Anyway, it’s your bed.” 

You can’t think of a good reason to argue. Something in you calms as you settle in between them, Sirius’ hip touching yours and the warmth of Remus’ body on your other side. It’s familiar, safe. 

“Are you upset?” you ask Sirius. 

His brows pinch. “Why would I be?” 

“Because…” You cringe. “Aren’t you two…?”

“There’s been a lot of confusion, I think,” Remus says kindly. “But when we were talking, we both sort of came to the realization that we fancy each other…and you.” 

There’s a dense pause. 

“And me?” you echo. 

Remus’ lips tilt slightly. “Yes.” 

“As in…” You rub your eyes, dumbfounded. “Sorry, I did just wake up.” 

Sirius laughs. Remus too, reaching over to rub your knee like he can’t help himself. 

“For the record, I didn’t plan any of this,” says Sirius, “but if I had, I’d have done it exactly this way. It’s very gratifying to finally disturb your sleep schedules the way you pricks have been doing to me all these weeks.” 

“Oi,” Remus chides teasingly, reaching over you to push at Sirius’ thigh. You marvel at this new easiness between them, now given even newer context. “Anyway, we thought we’d come see if you might be interested.” 

“In…you.” You rub your lips together, looking between them and noticing Sirius’ gaze has fallen to your mouth. Unless you’re terribly mistaken and you’ve got it all wrong, this means he fancies you as well. Your partner, your best friend. 

The idea isn’t as upsetting as it ought to be. 

Do you fancy him too? You’ve never thought about Sirius in that way. You love him, of course, but you’ve never taken the time to parse out if it might be a different sort of love than the kind between friends. And as for the rest—well, who wouldn’t be attracted to Sirius? You’re only human. 

“In both of us, yes,” Remus confirms patiently. 

“Is that something you’d be into?” Sirius asks. 

Your answer leaves you on a breath, thoughtless but true. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” Sirius grins. 

You nod. You’re suddenly fixated by the way his cupid’s bow flattens out when he smiles like that. It’s something you’ve noticed a thousand times before, but now…

“Yeah,” you say again. “Um…what do we do?” 

Remus chuckles. “I don’t really know. I’ve not been with two people before.” 

“Believe it or not, this is a first for me as well,” Sirius says lightly. 

“Right,” you laugh. It breaks up some of the apprehension in your chest. 

“If you want to,” Remus’ voice softens, “I suppose you could start by kissing him.” 

You look at him, then at Sirius. For the first time, something like insecurity flashes across his face. 

“You don’t have to,” he says quietly. No longer the brazen flirt, but the kind, considerate boy you know. “It’s okay.” 

“I know,” you reply. 

It’s like he’s afraid to touch you until you get to him. You steady yourself with a hand on his jaw, your other pressing into the mattress as you lean towards where he’s reclined against your pillow and bring your lips to his. 

You know all the ways that Sirius moves, and even this new, completely uncharted part of him is consistent. Sirius’ kisses start out slow, probing, feeling out what you like and what he can do, but then he gives himself over to it. His hands find first your hips, urging you closer to him before one slides to the small of your back. Greedy fingers curl in the fabric of your pajama top. 

You make a small, accidental sound in the back of your throat when his teeth tease your bottom lip, and Sirius pulls away. You’re both breathing hard. 

Sirius stares at you for a weighted moment before his eyes drift behind you and he huffs out a laugh. “Enjoyed that, did you?” 

You look over your shoulder, and Remus is watching you both with a low flame burning in his gaze. He flushes a tad at the question but his expression doesn’t change. He leans forward, kissing you, tasting Sirius on your lips. 

───────────────────────────────────────────

The three of you don’t need to speak much to communicate. Remus pulls you back into him, his length hardening against your ass, and Sirius follows. He kisses Remus over your shoulder with a relieved sort of sigh. All the while, his hands are roving your thighs, pushing up your pajama shorts until they crease and pinch at your crotch. 

You exhale and tilt your head to the side when Remus drops his lips to your neck. “We have a competition tomorrow,” you remind them both. “We ought to be resting up.” 

You feel Sirius’ grin as he brings his mouth to yours again. “Yup.” He nips your bottom lip. “I’m aware this is a bad idea.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t condone it,” Remus agrees, one hand covering your ribs while the other sneaks down to tease the waist of your pajama shorts.Your poor shorts are being attacked from both sides. “How far do you want to go?” 

Sirius pulls his lips from yours to watch you think. They still tingle, and you rub them together unconsciously. His eyes darken. 

“You drive me mad when you do that,” he says. 

“Do what?” 

Sirius’ mouth kicks up at the corner. He brings his thumb to your lower lip, pressing down on it gently. His own lips are swollen and gleaming prettily with spit, eyes nearly all pupil. Remus’ hand strokes lazily at your side. 

“I want to go as far as you guys want to,” you say without breaking Sirius’ gaze. 

His grin widens, and he looks at Remus, shrugging. “We could just go until somebody says stop.” 

“Alright,” says Remus. One of his hands leaves you, finger hooking in the waist of Sirius’ trousers. “Can we take these off, then?” 

Sirius isn’t shy, but you didn’t think he would be. He sits up on his knees and pulls them down, letting Remus help them over his ankles before they’re discarded in a heap on the floor. Remus gets rid of his too, and then you’re staring at the outlines of both boys through the far thinner material of their underwear. 

Remus ghosts a touch over Sirius’ cock, making the other boy’s expression pinch with want, before pulling down the waistband. Lithe, graceful muscles and hip bones curving inwards. Sirius curses as Remus’ long fingers wrap around him. 

Remus pumps slowly, his own arousal an insistent heat at your hip. You find your attention torn between the feeling of his body against your backside and the sultry droop of Sirius’ eyelids as he watches Remus work his cock. 

“Doesn’t he look pretty?” Remus murmurs. 

It takes you a second to realize he’s speaking to you. “Yeah.” Your mouth feels dry. You swallow, and watch as Sirius’ eyes flit up to the motion. “He always does.” 

Remus hums in agreement, pressing a light kiss to an exposed bit of skin beside the neckline of your top. “Do you want to try, lovely?” 

You turn your head to look at him. Remus’ eyes are glued to Sirius. “What about you?” 

A chuckle, and another soft kiss to your shoulder. “I’ll be alright.” 

Remus waits until your hand is around Sirius’ shaft, pumping a couple times against his own fist, before letting go. You choose a slightly less languid pace than Remus had. Sirius twitches in your grasp, taking your face in his hands and setting his lips to yours with a muffled groan. 

Behind you, Remus moves closer until his length is pressed against your ass. One of his hands steadies you by the hip while the other dips below the waistband of your shorts, palming you through your underwear. You shift, and he hisses when you move against him. 

You turn your head on instinct, Sirius’ lips smudging across your cheek. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright.” Remus’ voice is breathy, amused. “You just surprised me.” 

“What’d she do?” Sirius is never one to be left out of the loop. 

“Just backed into me.” 

“Oh. Gorgeous,” he smiles, turning you by the chin to capture your lips again, “who wouldn’t want that?” 

Their praise soon has you devolving into a thoughtless, sensory creature. Sirius’ hands caress your face and neck and Remus’ fingers brush your panties aside to toy with your cunt. Every movement of your hips makes him push more insistently against you. Your shirt comes off, Remus dotting your shoulders with sweet kisses. Your grip tightens on Sirius’ cock, and a low, needy sound tears out of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart. Just like that.” 

Your heart flutters at the endearment, but you don’t let your movements stall. Soon he’s pushing his hips into your hand, kisses turning messy and desperate, your own sounds harder to suppress as Remus bullies your clit with two fingers. You’re glad to know at least Sirius’ room is empty on your other side, because you’re beginning to wonder how thick these walls are. Remus pushes his length into the crease between your asscheeks through your shorts, Sirius’ cock beginning to twitch in your hand, and you press your lips together to contain a sound that promises to be both loud and mortifying—and the bed collapses. 

You fall backwards onto Remus as the cardboard on his end gives out, sending all three of you to the floor. Sirius’ teeth knock into yours and Remus catches you around the waist with both hands, keeping you from fully sitting on his hard cock. 

“Fuck.” Sirius brings a hand to his mouth. “What the fuck?” 

“Oh, shit.” You scramble away from Remus, onto the floor. Both boys look at you in alarm. You’re looking to where Remus’ leg is bent underneath him, not at a terribly cruel angle, but still— “Your hip. Is your hip okay?” 

“Oh.” Remus glances down as though he’s forgotten it himself, realization dawning over his features. 

“Fuck,” Sirius breaths, remembering as well. His hand moves toward Remus but lingers in the air, afraid of hurting him. 

“It’s…yeah, it’s okay,” says Remus. His eyes meet yours. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” 

Sirius’ brows pinch, but his hand makes it the rest of the way, rubbing tentatively over Remus’ hip joint. “Are you sure?” 

Remus shifts slowly, sitting up off his knees to move closer to Sirius. “I’m sure.” A little smile graces his lips. “You worried about me, Pads?” 

Sirius’ face splits in the sort of grin you can only ever surprise out of him. “Fuck off,” he laughs, pushing Remus away when he tries to kiss him. Remus catches Sirius’ hands, his own smile unfurling slowly, almost unwillingly. It makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“How sweet,” he hums, smug. 

You find yourself smiling at them both, your heart a balloon in your chest. 

“Okay.” You give the mattress a little tug. “In that case, could you guys get off?”

“What’re you doing?” Remus asks. Both he and Sirius move. 

“Having this on a slant doesn’t seem like a good idea, so I’m moving it.” 

It should be awkward, this break in the tension, but maybe it’s because you’re so used to working as a team that it isn’t. You all get the mattress situated on the floor, and then you’re dragging Remus’ underwear off, his hands moving kind and doting over the lengths of your arms. He inhales a small breath as Sirius takes his cock into his mouth. 

You watch Sirius’ lips move up and down his shaft, his eyes dark and growing shiny as he takes Remus as far as he can. You aren’t quite sure how to contribute, but when you rub the inside of Sirius’ thigh tentatively both boys moan. You take that to mean you’re on the right track. 

The muscles in Sirius’ back flex as he raises and lowers his head between Remus’ legs, mouth growing wet with spit and slick, and it’s not long before Remus’ fingers are curling in Sirius’ hair, curses spewing from between his lips in a Welsh accent you’ve not heard before. You can’t help but follow them back to the source, kissing Remus just before he cums down Sirius’ throat. He grips you by the arms with something like desperation. You’re happy to stay as the tension unwinds from his body, until his hands are moving down you, smoothing across the skin just above the waistband of your shorts. 

“Are you planning on keeping those on all night?” 

It’s Sirius who asks, his gaze sultry as he watches Remus’ finger skim just underneath the fabric covering your ass. He wipes the corner of his mouth with a thumb. 

“How’s this?” Remus suggests. He pulls you gently into his lap, situating you between his legs with your back against his chest. Again, you can feel the impression of him pressed against your backside. 

Your voice comes out weak. “This is good.” 

He chuckles, soothing a hand down your side while Sirius grins. Sirius’ fingers grasp the elastics of both your shorts and your underwear. “Okay?” he asks you. 

You nod. 

He takes his time working them down your legs and off your ankles, his eyes locking on your exposed cunt and the arousal Remus has coaxed out of you already. Remus, too, is watching over your shoulder. His fingers gravitate back to it, dragging slick up through your folds idly, almost worshipfully. He kisses behind your ear. 

“Fuck, you’re lovely,” says Sirius. 

Both boys’ gazes stay glued to your cunt as Sirius positions himself over you, pushing into your warmth. You bite down on a small sound. Remus tuts at you, his hand spreading reassuringly over your navel. 

“You can do better than that,” he chides. “Don’t think we don’t want to hear you.” 

Sirius holds your hips as he sinks into you. His fingers dent your flesh, and you marvel at the fact that you’ve wasted so much time not doing this. That you’ve ever been in a room with either Remus or Sirius and managed not to kiss them dizzy. You’re not sure you’ll be able to manage it again. 

Remus draws slow, tight circles around your clit with his finger. You arch your neck back onto his shoulder, and Sirius groans as you tighten on him. 

“God—you’re so perfect,” he says hoarsely. “You feel so good.” 

Your reply gets lost on a lewd sound as he drags his cock along your walls. Remus kisses you rewardingly in the soft skin underneath your ear. “There you are,” he says. “Good girl.” 

Warmth unfurls through your gut. 

Sirius grins whatever reaction must show up on your face, his hands migrating to your ass as he thrusts into you. As he gets rougher, so do Remus’ ministrations to your clit, his slow circles turning quick and jagged. You feel yourself tighten on Sirius in little flutters that have him gripping you tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises. 

“Fuck, like that, yeah. Just like that, baby.” 

Your lips part at the pet name and Sirius’ eyes flick up to yours like he’s surprised too, like he’s let slip something he didn’t mean to. But you say, “come here,” and he goes, leaning over you to let you take his face in your hands and kiss him until you can’t breathe. 

Remus feels your high approaching before you do. His free hand smooths over the inside of your twitching thigh. 

“Are you close?” he asks you. 

Sirius parts his lips from yours, looking down to see the confirmation on your face. You give it.

“Good,” he says, picking up his pace, “good, sweetheart, that’s it. Cum for me, yeah? I’ve got you.” 

You nearly bite your lip in half when you do, Remus tsking amusedly and kissing your neck while the tightening of your cunt threatens to send Sirius over the edge as well. He starts to pull out of you, but you grab his hand. 

“It’s okay,” you manage. “In me.” 

“Really?” he asks in a strangled voice. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I wanna feel it.” 

That’s all it takes. Sirius’ expression pinches like you’ve said something cruel as he thrusts into you one last time, a shock that reverberates through you as he warms you from the inside out. He’s rigid for a few seconds before tipping forward, his head to your shoulder and to Remus' chest, which you’ve slipped down without noticing. His breath fans softly over your skin. 

Remus rubs your thigh comfortingly and with his other hand pets down Sirius’ hair, cupping his flushed cheek. “Alright, love?” he asks. 

Sirius’ blush seems to worsen. “Yeah. You?” 

“More than.” Remus kisses his head. 

It’s only after a few seconds of silence that you realize Remus’ question was posed to the both of you. 

“That was…” you shake your head, at a loss “...fantastic.” 

“Yeah?” Sirius nudges his nose into your skin. “I thought so.” 

Remus’ chuckle rumbles through all three of you. “Cocky,” he says fondly. 

“And decent enough with it, by all reports.” 

It starts up a round of sweet, half teasing kisses Sirius pretends to want to escape despite making no real efforts to do so. You give and receive plenty of your own, until not just your lips and shoulders but many other parts of you are wet with spit and slick. You fall asleep all three on a twin mattress on the floor, your head on Remus’ chest and Sirius’ arms wound around your middle. It might be the best sleep you’ve ever had.

[parkerslatte]

Clouded | Part One

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: blood and injury. mentions of torture. beron in general.

Summary: Y/N works as a servant in the Forest House when an unfortunate encounter with Eris leaves her without her job with no valid reason. When she is at her small house, Eris shows up covered in blood. Truths Y/N has wanted to know for years come to light.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

•••

Y/N tried to carry herself with as much grace as she could muster. At least if she looked like she belonged, people would respect her more. Her servant clothes were ratty and torn, Beron had no care in the world to use his money to supply the servants who weren’t typically seen around the Forest House in a lavish uniform. The only reason Y/N was walking around the house was because her friend had gotten sick so Y/N took on her duties as well as her own. 

The hall was empty when Y/N entered it. No voices were to be heard so Y/N relaxed her shoulders. All she needed to do was get to Beron’s personal kitchens and collect all of the pots and pans to be swapped out with new ones. The only thing Y/N wanted to avoid on her way there was—

She collided with a firm chest and before Y/N knew it, she crashed to the floor, knocking all of the air out of her. 

“Of course it would be you I run into,” a voice sneered. 

Y/N finally looked at the person she collided with and her worry turned into anger. “Out of everyone, why have I been cursed to see your face this early in the morning.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “What are you doing in this part of the house? The last I heard you work four floors below where no one is witness to your unsightly appearance.”

“I am doing my friend's work while she is sick,” Y/N answered. “I guess it is a foreign concept to you. Both work and friends.”

Eris offered a sarcastic smile in return. “I see your comebacks have changed.”

“I see you have changed, for the worse,” Y/N muttered. 

Y/N remembered centuries ago when she once considered Eris a friend— perhaps even more. She thought he was the most amazing person ever. What a huge misjudge of character. 

Y/N held out her hand. “The least you can do is help me up.”

Eris looked around the hallway for a brief moment. Y/N sighed. Of course he would look before being caught touching a simple servant girl. 

The moment their hands touched, Y/N gripped onto Eris’s hand tightly before pulling harshly. The heir of the Autumn Court was swept off his feet and came tumbling to the ground. 

Y/N only intended for him to fall down next to her— not on top of her. Eris’s elbows were braced on either side of Y/N’s head as he saved himself from his entire weight pressing on top of her. His body was perfectly slotted between her thighs. His face hovered over hers, so close she could feel his breath brush her face like a gentle caress. 

Y/N met Eris’s eyes and her heart skipped a beat. She had forgotten how beautiful the colour of his eyes were. 

“Y/N, I—“

Footsteps echoed down the hallway and Eris rushed to get up from Y/N. The moment he was on his feet and straightening his jacket, Beron walked around the corner. 

Eris looked down at Y/N, a scowl on his face. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

Beron cleared his throat. “Eris, is this vermin bothering you?”

“No,” Eris said quickly. “She isn’t.”

“But, you mentioned—“

“I will escort her out, Father,” Eris said and gripped Y/N’s upper arm. 

Before Y/N could say anything, Eris dragged her down the hallway and out of sight. Once Y/N was sure they were alone, Y/N pulled her arm from Eris’s grip. 

“Eris, get off me!” Y/N exclaimed. “I need to get back and do my job.”

Eris only gripped her arm once more and pulled her into a small storage room. He pressed his back against the door. 

“Eris,” Y/N said. “I need to get back to work.”

“No you’re not, Y/N,” Eris said. “You are leaving.”

Y/N scoffed. “I am not leaving. If this is just for pulling you down to the floor and harming your ego—“

“It isn’t about that, Y/N!” Eris snapped. “But you are leaving and never coming back here again. If I ever see you in this house ever again, I will banish you from this court myself.”

Y/N’s heart dropped. “Eris…”

“Go, Y/N,” Eris said. “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

Eris opened the door and gestured for her to step out. Y/N followed, her gaze cast down to the floor. 

“I am sorry, Eris,” Y/N muttered. “But I need to keep this job. I cannot afford my house without it.”

“That is not my problem, Y/N,” Eris replied, straightening his jacket once more. 

“Please, Eris,” Y/N begged. “Out of everyone in this house, you are the one who knows of my situation.”

There seemed to be a flash of regret across Eris’s face but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a sneer. “Y/N, I do not care about your situation. If your father were any smarter then he wouldn’t have gotten himself in debt before he passed, leaving you to pay it all off.”

Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. “I hate you, Eris Vanserra.”

“I hear that a lot,” Eris said, looking away from Y/N. “It doesn’t sound any different when you say it. Leave, Y/N, before I need to force you.”

Eris sauntered down the hall, leaving Y/N alone in the centre of the grand hall, tears falling down her cheeks. 

***

The following day, Y/N spent hours looking for jobs in the nearest village. Conveniently no one was hiring. The moment she was home, Y/N spilled out all of her savings onto her bed. Although she had already paid over half of her father’s debt, she still had a long way to go. Paying only half had taken her nearly a century with the wage she was on. 

Y/N sighed and slumped down into the small tattered armchair. She loved her father dearly, she always had and she grieved him more than she cared to admit. But she hated him sometimes. She hated him for leaving her with the burden of his debts. 

Before she and her father were cast out in the Autumn Court, her father was well respected amongst the nobles and often spent his time with Beron and his other advisors. He often brought Y/N along and it was there she first met Eris. The heir was an only child at the time so was often bored of playing on his own. It didn’t take them long to form a friendship. They were attached at the hip…until the long awaited consequences of her fathers debts caught up to him. 

Beron offered her father a job in the house to earn money to pay his debts, probably the only kindness Y/N saw the High Lord give at the time. Only it wasn’t a kindness at all, it was simply a death sentence. Beron was well aware of her fathers debts amongst the other nobles and allowed him to fight in his army, completely untrained and unarmed– leaving Y/N completely alone. 

At first she thought she could rely on Eris and she could, until his brother came alone when they were twenty. It was as if a switch flipped within Eris. He went from Y/N’s best friend to someone she hated and despised. He was cruel and cold, despite the fire coursing through his veins. Y/N hated that she still saw him occasionally around the Forest House…well, that wouldn’t be a problem now. 

Y/N tried not to cry as she looked at the money on the bed. She barely had enough to pay for her food for the week. There were times where Y/N debated running away, she debated leaving Prythian completely, somewhere where Autumn had no ties. She could start a new life– a happier one. 

But something always pulled her back. Y/N didn’t know what but she needed to find out. 

A loud thump echoed through her small house. Y/N stilled and didn’t move. What if it was someone trying to claim their money now that they knew she wasn’t protected by the walls of the Forest House? What if they weren’t there for money at all?

Another loud thump, this time more desperate. 

Y/N carefully slid her dagger out from its hiding place and slowly walked to her front door. 

Another thump more desperate than the last. 

“Y/N…” Eris’s voice weakly called out. “Please…let me in.”

Y/N walked faster over to her front door and opened it with a scowl. 

Her dagger clattered to the floor. 

She let out a gasp. 

Eris collapsed into her arms.

***

Y/N panicked as she rushed around Eris to clean up all of the blood covering his body. And from the scent of it, every single drop was his. The rise and fall of his chest was shallow as she cut away his white shirt. Well she assumed it was originally white. 

His pale torso was coated with a layer of blood, some had dried but most of it seemed fresh. The deeper wounds still bled freely. 

Y/N wasn’t sure what to do. She could only heal small wounds and gashes, that was only what her father had taught her. This was extreme but they were too far away from a proper healer. By the time they got there, Eris would be dead. 

“Come on, Y/N,” she muttered to herself. “You can do this.”

She worked on stopping the blood flow from the large open gash in his side. She wiped away all of the dried blood surrounding the area. The gash wasn’t as large as she originally thought but it was deep– too deep for her to deal with. 

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes. Not only would she be an outcast from the village because of the debt she owed but now she would be an outcast because she let the heir to the court die. 

“Eris,” Y/N whispered. “Please stay with me. Don’t you dare die on me. Not today.”

***

Most of the larger wounds on Eris’s body were cleaned and were slowly beginning to heal. The smaller cuts and bruises were only faintly there now. Y/N’s hands were still stained red from Eris’s blood. She hadn’t moved from her position on her coffee table since she finished sewing up the gaping wound in his side. Y/N was sure she had never been so scared in her life. What would have happened if she wasn’t able to help Eris? There were instances where she was sure he was going to die right there on her couch. Y/N shook her head, banishing the thought from her mind. Eris was alive, the clear rise and fall of his chest gave that away, no matter how shallow it was. 

Despite her uncomfortable position atop the coffee table, Y/N didn’t move, didn’t blink as she watched Eris. His wounds had slowly begun to heal but she still did not trust her own healing abilities fully. If any of the wounds got infected whilst they healed, Y/N didn’t want to wake to Eris dead on her couch. 

Y/N let out a yawn but continued to keep her eyes open. 

***

When Eris finally awoke, it was to a shout of pain. He shot up from his position on the couch, ripping open the wound Y/N had so carefully stitched. His hand flung to his side, pressing down to slow the bleeding. 

Y/N ran into the room, panic flooding her eyes. Eris was confused. Why was Y/N here? His heart beat faster as he surveyed the room. It had been many, many years since he had last been inside this small cabin but he recognised it instantly. Eris only began to panic even more. 

“Of course you wake when I was getting a drink for myself,” Y/N said, sitting down on the table in front of him. “And you ripped your stitches open.”

“Y/N,” Eris gasped. “What am I doing here?”

Y/N wiped her hands down her face. As she shuffled closer, he could identify the dark circles under her eyes that he knew were not there the last time he had seen her. And as she shuffled closer he only now noticed his lack of shirt, bare skin exposed to the air. Shame instantly rose within Eris. 

“You turned up here yesterday evening,” Y/N said, a haunted look in her eyes as her gaze drifted to the side. “You were covered in blood– your blood.”

Eris gulped down air as he pressed on his wound harder, he could feel the blood begin to slither between his fingers as he tried his best to keep it within his body. 

“Here,” Y/N said, the softest Eris had heard her voice in years. “Let me help.”

“You’ve done enough,” Eris said, letting his facade and walls turn to steel. “I can deal with it from here.”

The moment Eris went to stand, he collapsed instantly. Y/N rushed to his side and helped him settle back on the couch. The bloodstained couch. It was a wonder how he was even alive.

“Let me help you, Eris,” Y/N said, more firmly this time. A tone he was far more used to.

“Why?” Eris scoffed. “Because you care about me?”

“No,” Y/N said. If she had any idea of the dagger that word sent to his heart. “I don’t need the heir of Autumn to die on my couch. I’m already an outcast in the village already.”

Eris's eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Y/N.“

“I’m glad I could help you Eris, but why are you here? You threatened me with banishment not even a day ago and now you show up here begging for help,” Y/N said. 

Eris sighed. “I don’t know why I ended up here, Y/N.” It was a lie but Y/N didn’t need to know the truth— at least not yet. 

“Then what happened? You nearly died on me multiple times,” Y/N said, her voice catching. Eris fought the urge to reach out. 

“I can’t say, Y/N,” Eris said, looking at his bloody hands. 

Y/N scoffed. “Eris, you show up on my doorstep close to death and you cannot tell me what happened?”

Eris squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t, Y/N.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” 

“Both,” Eris said, meeting her eyes again. 

Y/N sighed. “Let me see your wound back up.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I need to leave,” Eris said. 

He tried to stand but the moment he tried, he grunted in pain. His side felt as if it were on fire. 

“Eris, you need to have this stitched again,” Y/N said, shuffling closer. “It won’t heal properly otherwise.”

Eris held her gaze. He could see the gleam of the unshed tears lingering in her eyes. Eris knew they weren’t for him. They were because of him. If he had died within her house, he didn’t even want to imagine what the rest of the village would say about her. He didn’t want to imagine what his own father would do to her. Eris only knew it would be far worse than what was done to him. 

“Fine,” Eris said and allowed himself to pull his hand away from the wound. It was still bleeding but not as much as before. 

Silently, Y/N moved to his side, sitting down on the dried blood. Eris cringed. That was his blood covering the couch. It was his blood covering her dress. 

Eris could barely feel the needle stitching his skin back together. All he did was stare forwards at the small table in the centre of the room. It was the same table as the last time he was in this house, Eris noticed. 

***

511 Years Ago

Eris laughed as Y/N pulled him into her house. It was late at night and the house was empty, her father was working late and Y/N took it upon herself to drag Eris back here. 

“Y/N, why have you dragged me here?” A twenty year old Eris asked as a nineteen year old Y/N dragged him down to sit on the couch. 

“It was your birthday a few days ago,” Y/N said. “And I know that you didn’t do much for it because your mother and father have been fussing over your mothers pregnancy. So…”

Y/N reached into her small bag and pulled out a small box. She handed it to Eris. 

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Eris said. 

“Well I did,” Y/N said, casually holding onto his arm. 

Eris slowly opened the box and was greeted by the sight of the most beautiful ring. 

“I had it engraved!” Y/N said excitedly. “I know how much you love to be around me…”

Eris rolled his eyes but didn’t object. 

“So,” Y/N continued. “You will always have a piece of me with you. I asked for the gem in my necklace to be split into two.”

Eris read the engraved text on the inner part of the ring. 

“For the days you feel alone…”

“I have a matching one,” Y/N said, taking her own ring out of her pocket. 

“All you need to do is touch the gem embedded in the metal and I will feel it,” Y/N said. “The same with me.”

Y/N slipped her own ring onto her finger. It was thinner than Eris’s ring yet just as beautiful. She lightly ran her finger over the gem and Eris felt his ring heat up the smallest amount. 

“Y/N…” Eris said, looking at the ring in his finger. “How much did you spend on this?”

Y/N shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

Eris looked at Y/N, many emotions overwhelmed him to the point where he couldn’t find the words to say. Despite having a good relationship with his mother, she had never gotten him a meaningful present before. His father never really cared about birthdays so Eris rarely even got a ‘Happy Birthday’ from his father. 

But this gift from Y/N trumped any other gift he had received before, or will ever receive. He felt a tug and his breath was gone for a brief moment. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” Eris said, his finger gliding over the small gem. 

Y/N smiled. “You’re welcome. Now you will always know I am beside you.”

Eris couldn’t think of anything to do but pull her into him, wrapping his arms around her body. Y/N’s arms snaked around his neck, embracing him tightly. 

The scent of her overwhelmed Eris. Her scent was once he could always pick out in a crowd of a thousand. It was comforting for him, it made him feel safe, loved. 

“Y/N…” Eris began, afraid for the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “I love you.”

Y/N’s body went rigid before she pulled away from Eris, an indescribable expression on her face. Eris’s heart sank. 

He quickly avoided her gaze and shuffled uncomfortably on the couch. “I’m sorry. Just forget I said anything.”

Just as he went to stand up, Y/N gently clasped his hand. “You love me?”

Eris met her gaze once more. “I do. I have for a while now, I just didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t want to lose you as a friend.”

Y/N shook her head. “You haven’t lost me as a friend, and you never will.”

Eris offered a stiff smile. “Well I would prefer it if we just completely forget that this ever happened between us.”

“Why?”

Eris shuffled. “Because you don’t return my feelings.”

Y/N smiled, soft and gentle. “I never said that.”

Eris’s heart skipped a beat. 

Y/N laced her fingers with his. “I love you too, Eris. I never said anything because I thought you would never return my feelings.”

A sigh of relief slipped past Eris’s lips. “You love me back?”

“Of course I do,” Y/N said, positioning her body closer to Eris. “How could I not?”

Eris smiled. “I honestly don’t know what to do.”

“I do,” Y/N said and soon enough her lips were pressed firmly against Eris’s. 

***

“Eris,” Y/N said. “Eris!”

Eris snapped out of his thoughts and turned his attention away from the table in front of him. “Yes?”

“You’ve been staring blankly at the table ever since I began stitching up your wound,” Y/N said. 

Eris looked down and noticed she had already finished. He barely felt it at all. “Thank you.”

Y/N nodded before moving away from him. Despite the fire coursing through his veins, Eris suddenly felt cold. 

“Now are you going to tell me what happened?” Y/N asked as she wiped the blood from her hands. 

“No,” Eris replied, grunting in pain as she shifted positions. 

“Still so stubborn,” Y/N muttered.

“I need to leave,” Eris said. “I don’t want my mother wondering where I disappeared to. And I have other matters to finish.”

“You are not going anywhere,” Y/N said. “Not until you are fully healed anyway.”

“I am leaving, Y/N,” Eris said.

“You can barely stand without causing pain,” Y/N commented.

“I can,” Eris said. 

Y/N folded her arms across her chest. “Prove it.”

“Fine,” Eris said.

This time Eris did manage to get to his feet but the pain all over his body made him sway in place. He felt as if he were being beaten all over again. 

“See,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Sit back down, Eris.”

“I’m not staying here, Y/N,” Eris said as she took an excruciating step towards the front door. “I can’t.”

“Why? Afraid being seen with a servant girl will ruin your image?” Y/N spat.”

“Don’t,” Eris hissed.

“Don’t what?” Y/N said, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Eris said. “You are so much more than that.”

“As if you believe that, Eris,” Y/N scoffed. “For years you have looked down upon me for being a worker in the Forest House. You have sneered at me in the halls. You have constantly belittled me whenever someone sees you talking to me. You act like I am the scum of the whole of Prythian. I can’t believe I loved you all those years ago.”

Loved. 

Past tense.

The one word cut Eris deeper than any other wound on his body. Of course he already knew that Y/N no longer loved him but it didn't hurt any less to hear it come from her mouth. 

“I have my reasons for everything, Y/N,” Eris said, closing his eyes, wishing he were anywhere else. 

“It would help a lot for you to justify them,” Y/N said, her voice cracking. “You were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything. I always imagined what our life would be like together. I pictured it every day. The day my fathers debts were made public, you comforted me, you stayed with me for those first few weeks when it was the hardest. It was in those moments when I realised how deep my love went for you. Everyone else abandoned me, but you stayed.”

“But the moment your brother Tycho was born, everything suddenly shifted. You became a completely different person. You became cruel, distant and cold, not just toward me but to everyone who was close to you,” Y/N said, her eyes brimming with tears. “You became a stranger to me. I thought it was just the stress and gave you the benefit of the doubt but the moment my father passed away and I heard you laugh with your father about it, I knew that beautiful heart inside your body had turned to stone.”

Eris squeezed his eyes shut. “I had my reasons.”

“As you’ve said, but I deserve to know the reason why the Eris standing before me right now, killed the male I was once in love with.” Y/N’s voice broke and Eris dreaded to find out what he would find if he opened his eyes. 

“I can’t–”

“That is bullshit, Eris,” Y/N exclaimed. “I deserve to know why the male bleeding in my living room replaced the one who I shared so much of myself with.”

Slowly, Eris opened his eyes. Tears were streaming down Y/N’s face. Eris’s heart clenched as he fought the instinctual urge to reach for her. 

“It was because of you,” Eris confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I did all of it to protect you from my father and my younger brothers, everything.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked. 

“I have already told you too much, Y/N,” Eris said. “I need to go before my father finds out where I am.”

As Eris turned, Y/N suddenly gasped. 

“Eris,” Y/N said. “Your back…”

He knew what she could see. The scars that littered his back were his own secret, one he preferred no one else knew about, not even his own mother. When Eris had received the beating from his father, he was shocked to discover that he wouldn’t be adding to the collection on his back, but on his torso and chest instead. 

“I told you I needed to protect you from my father,” Eris said before limping out of the small house. 

The moment the cold air hit his skin, Eris hissed in pain. He was more aware of every cut and wound on his body. 

“Eris, don’t walk away,” Y/N begged as she followed him.

“Y/N, go back inside,” Eris said. “And don’t ever talk to me again. I can’t let him anywhere near you.”

“At least stay until you are healed,” Y/N said. “Your power is drained. Are you really going to walk all the way to the Forest House from here? You could die in this cold.”

“Better out there than in your house,” Eris said, each step felt like a rain of daggers. 

“Eris, please just come back inside,” Y/N said. 

“Y/N, the longer I stay here, the more danger you are in,” Eris said. “My father has most likely already sent my brothers after me. I cannot be seen with you. It will only confirm his suspicions.”

“What suspicions?” Y/N asked.

The more Eris walked the more he could feel his energy drain. He dragged his feet along the path to the gate of Y/N’s garden. His legs began to get weaker and weaker and his head spun. He had lost too much blood to be up on his feet this fast. 

“Please, go back inside,” Eris muttered.

“No, what suspicions, Eris?” Y/N asked. 

“Please…” Eris said, feeling himself get weaker. 

He buckled under his own weight and fell onto the cobblestones below him. He could barely lift his arm up. The sound of Y/N’s quick footsteps echoed on the ground and she appeared in his vision. 

“Y/N,” Eris mumbled. “Please, just leave me here.”

“No,” Y/N said. “I told you to stay inside but you didn’t listen.”

“I can’t be seen with you,” Eris siad, his vision becoming blurred.

“I don’t care, I am not leaving you here to die. I won’t let you,” Y/N said.

“I can’t let you get close to me,” Eris whispered. “It was the only way to stop it.”

Eris couldn’t stop the words falling from his mouth. Everything he never wanted to say aloud was coming to light. 

“Stop what? You are not making any sense right now,” Y/N asked and Eris felt the warm caress of her hand on the side of his face. From what he could see, Y/N looked concerned, all the hatred for him had seemed to be wiped clean from her face. 

“Stop the bond snapping,” Eris mumbled, leaning into her touch. “You are my mate, Y/N.”

Eris’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt himself drift into unconsciousness.