#Easily the best part of the chapter.
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kyouka-supremacy · 22 days ago
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Well.
#(I'm back)#It was. Uhm. A chapter#First of all: I'm ENDLESSLY GRATEFUL to the person who sent me the translation basically as soon as the chapter came out.#I even did like 90% of typesetting but didn't finish it because I had to go out#(aka with my friends were literally knocking out at my room and I couldn't make it any more late lol)#Mixed feelings about it? Mostly because there's so much exposition... I'll need to reread it another three times before it sinks in#The color page is AMAZING 10000000000000/10 I love my sskks so much they're so cute I love them so much they're so cute.#Easily the best part of the chapter.#The color page was? Very very pretty too? Like a lot more than usual if you ask me! I can't wait for the volume cover 🥺🥺#It should come out soon shouldn't it? Usually color spreads / pages open the volume...#Akutagawa fake dying again is funny. Like it isssss but also. Idk it's a little lame how we're changing the pov from ss/kk again :/#I can't even tell if I'm being biased or if it's an actual storytelling critique. I don't care right now I just want to see Akutagawa–#being cool rather than. You know. Dead on the ground.#That said! It's also very funny and touches my sense of humor precisely.#Like yeah Akutagawa being like the second strongest pm member and overall one of the most powerful ability user in the world–#that everyone fears (and I know he is! He is indeed for real!)#And yet he always ends up face to the ground 😂😂😂 Like if we don't count the ss/kk fights he literally only ever won against Hawthorne.#And even then he failed to kill him and Mitchell. It's so funny to me. I love him. He's so pathetic#“Wow! Akutagawa is so cool and invincible now!” *ends up biting the dust not even two chapters later*#It's okay because I love him. He's very very powerful and he's also very very pathetic I love that for him#That said :/ I don't really care about Fukuzawa :/ Idk :/ Like :/#Don't get me wrong I LOVE Fukuzawa (I don't. I'm mostly neutral towards him) but this is the ss/kk moment man :/ Whatchu doin#That's about it. Let's see what the next chapter brings!#Everything accounted for I'm glad there wasn't like. A ss/kk kiss or any other big big ss/kk moment#(although Atsushi admiring Akutagawa and thinking about his eyes has its fair share of neatness to it!!)#Because with everything going on this evening I really would have been let down to miss it#But I keep hope for the next chapters!! Please...#random rambles#Had tons of fun typesetting! Even though I don't think there's a point in posting it now. But would love to do it again in the future!#bsd spoilers
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idk-ilike5sos · 2 years ago
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Holy fuck I just finished writing chapter 2!!
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bloodyshadow1 · 7 months ago
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I feel like something that really works for Dungeon Meshi is that all the characters are good at their jobs from the beginning. At the start of the show/manga the Touden party is one of the best parties in the business.
They got wiped in the first episode/chapter, but they got wiped on the 6th floor where we don't see another party on a floor lower than the 5th, castle town, even then the only group we meet is Shiro's who was part of the original party and super skilled. Shiro is an expert swordsman who went to the dungeon to test himself, he was the best fighter in the party and the ace to deal killing blows to dragons. Namari is a dwarf who is likely a better fighter than Senshi and takes better care of her equipment. Laios is a good fighter, maybe not the best, but he is good an super knowledgeable. Falin and Marcille are two top class mages, Marcille might be inexperienced as a practical caster, but by the time the series starts she is very powerful. Chilchuck is the leader/creator of the half-foot union, he is good at his job and has survived since he was a wide eyed kid to a grizzled old man who looks like a kid to other races. they were stacked at the start of the series and it makes sense why they are well known in adventurers circles.
They aren't newbies who are blessed with plot armor and being the main characters of the story. They are very powerful and experienced adventurers who just happen to meet the most powerful monster in the dungeon on empty stomachs. Even once the series starts, they're at a disadvantage not because they're lacking skills, just they lose two of the parties best fighters. Marcille, the parties mage, is easily able to knock out/kill a running mushroom that was giving a party of noobs a thrashing.
I get why a lot of stories start with young inexperienced kids, but sometimes its nice to read stories that star older heroes who are good at their jobs instead of something like a rookie red ranger situation. Especially now that I'm older
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scarlet-star-witch · 5 months ago
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The moon and his sun
Aemond Targaryen x Female reader
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Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.
Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.
Word count: 11.5 K
Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house
AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue
~~
He was used to playing for second best.
In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son. 
But never from her.
She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.
He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.
It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly. 
She made his miserable heart full. 
Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life. 
He never believed he was worthy of her love. 
And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.
~~
It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.
A day Aemond was dreading. 
It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it. 
Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn. 
“This place is disgusting.” Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground. 
“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”
“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.
His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun. 
“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.
“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”
“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.
“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly. 
Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.
It was the socialization he dreaded. 
Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight. 
But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.
Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well. 
Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.
His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne. 
“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.
Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.
“It’s been too long, my friend.” 
“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.” 
Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time. 
He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else. 
As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.
“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.
He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.
“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously. 
“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.
“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.
Viserys laughed and looked at his friend. 
“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics. 
Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything. 
If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.
Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.
“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”
“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line. 
She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.
Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her. 
The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.
Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding. 
He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room. 
She looked at him first. 
She smiled at him first.
It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.
He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.
~~
“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings. 
They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast. 
Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.
“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.” 
Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave. 
The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal. 
The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found. 
As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully. 
“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.
“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing. 
Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.
“She’s in her tree.”
“Her tree?” 
The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them. 
He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree. 
She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.
As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them. 
“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”
Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice. 
“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation. 
Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself. 
He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.
“Would you like to sit?”
He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.
Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him. 
He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her. 
“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words. 
“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.
His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago. 
“They’re beautiful.”
She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting. 
“Do you draw?”
“No, nowhere near as well as you.”
“You must be shit then because these are awful.”
Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him. 
But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him. 
A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before. 
“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature. 
“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”
No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile. 
She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced. 
Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave. 
He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease. 
She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal. 
~~
The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering. 
She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed. 
She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through. 
With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation. 
“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”
“I was.” 
Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”
She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause. 
“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”
Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer. 
Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain. 
They couldn’t say no to her. 
By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer. 
A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow. 
~~
She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing. 
She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.
Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.
She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm. 
With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat. 
The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair. 
Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated. 
She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table. 
Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached. 
“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily. 
“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”
“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”
“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held. 
“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly. 
“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her. 
“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.
“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”
Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against. 
“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”
Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.
“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known. 
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”
“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”
He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously. 
“You would do that?”
“Of course.” He insisted.
“That would be wonderful.” 
He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet. 
By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her. 
She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before. 
“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.
They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had. 
Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.
But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears. 
He had never felt so important. 
~~
King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.
Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history. 
It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.
A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.  
“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm. 
“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior. 
“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day. 
“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife. 
She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.
“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door. 
“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl. 
She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.
“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her. 
“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him. 
“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.” 
It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.
He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.
~~~
She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic
princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.
“What is this thing?”
Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.
“That’s a beetle.”
“They’re not poisonous, are they?”
The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”
The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands. 
Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.
“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”
The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.
“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”
Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.
“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.
“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”
“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”
Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.
The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving. 
Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.
Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window. 
“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.
“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”
The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious. 
Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.
“What are you doing here?”
“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.
Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.
The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name. 
“Hmm?”
“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.
“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”
“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”
Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower. 
“Here.”
She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.
Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair. 
The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance. 
“You two are pathetic.”
“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.
Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.
“You shouldn’t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.
“Do what?”
“Antagonize him.” 
“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.
“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Why would anything happen to me?”
“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.
“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”
Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries. 
~~
A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 
She recognized the boy immediately. 
“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze. 
But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her. 
“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.
“Nothing.”
“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew. 
He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. 
“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.” 
Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her. 
He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood. 
“I just want to go to my chambers.”
“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.
Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves. 
He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.
Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him. 
“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”
Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze. 
She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair. 
“Were you in the dragon pit again?”
He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless. 
“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon. 
She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense. 
“They gave me a pig.”
Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed. 
“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”
“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”
“Aemond-”
“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”
“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”
Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 
“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence. 
“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”
Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history. 
“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”
The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her. 
He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her. 
“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”
“You would want me there?”
“Of course I would.” 
She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”
~~
Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around. 
How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.
His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil. 
Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra. 
He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised. 
He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her. 
She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself. 
He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.
“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again. 
His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes. 
“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile. 
“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard. 
He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard. 
He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes. 
By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him. 
The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.
“Aemond!” 
His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her. 
She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book. 
He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.
“Why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.”
She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”
He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend. 
“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly. 
Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond. 
She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him. 
She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him. 
“You could never intrude.”
Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him. 
“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him. 
“I’d rather be with you.”
Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant. 
She chose him. 
No one had ever chosen him.
~~
She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.
She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure. 
A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave. 
She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.
“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”
“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.” 
The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free. 
“Is he alright?”
Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him. 
“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.” 
A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him. 
The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival. 
On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother. 
She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached. 
Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed. 
“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words. 
“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.
“Where is he?”
“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.” 
“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.
“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.” 
She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”
She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her. 
After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.
She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying. 
It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could. 
On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.
“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.” 
She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her. 
She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before. 
She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.
The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could. 
He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks. 
His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar. 
She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers. 
“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile. 
He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair. 
“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”
Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities. 
“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear. 
“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks. 
His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred. 
The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming. 
The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted. 
She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him. 
Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid. 
“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye. 
“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.” 
It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.
“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.
“Aemond, I-”
“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks. 
Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life. 
“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!” 
She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste. 
Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost. 
Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything. 
~~
She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet. 
The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered. 
“Darling?”
She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side. 
“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”
“I’m fine.”
The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.
“Was it not what you expected?”
She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”
Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together. 
“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.” 
She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away. 
“Aemond?”
She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave. 
“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat. 
“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”
She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt. 
“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”
She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”
The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful. 
Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now. 
~~
She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong. 
Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised. 
As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort. 
As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.
She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold. 
She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left. 
She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived. 
It suddenly struck her. 
They were marigolds. 
She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them. 
Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile. 
She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes. 
I am deeply, truly sorry.
I didn’t mean a word of what I said
Please forgive me
- Your Aemond
Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow. 
The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.
She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.
She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.
“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.” 
The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior. 
They were the last things on her mind.
Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together. 
Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him. 
She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation. 
Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers. 
Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry. 
He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain. 
Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world. 
“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”
Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.
“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time. 
He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame. 
“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.” 
She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.
He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him. 
She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him. 
“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day. 
Aemond sighed and bowed his head. 
“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.
“Like what?”
“Like you were horrified of me.”
“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears. 
“But-”
“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.” 
The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.
“You… you’re not-”
She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.
“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”
The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath. 
He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.
He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child. 
But none of it mattered. 
She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.
Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.
“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.” 
Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter. 
His first laugh since the incident. 
From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side. 
The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish. 
Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.
The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying. 
“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her. 
“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”
“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”
Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate. 
“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”
“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily. 
Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl. 
But they all had a duty to perform.
~~
Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit. 
“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed. 
“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.
Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins. 
Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm. 
“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”
“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.” 
Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly. 
Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time. 
She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her. 
“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers. 
The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them. 
She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her. 
Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands. 
She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on. 
Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer. 
She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place. 
He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her. 
She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life. 
“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her. 
She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker. 
She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.
“It’s alright.” He assured her. 
He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe. 
A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep. 
The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays. 
The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers. 
Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew. 
She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him. 
~~
I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx
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yandere-daydreams · 2 months ago
Text
Title: Or Someone Finds The Lid.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).
Word Count: 8.0k.
Commissioned by the very lovely @elsecrytt.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Prolonged Captivity, Severe Infantilization, Forced Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Wildly Unhealthy Dynamics, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Geto Suguru has an Oral Fixation, Gojo Satou has a Mommy Kink, and Nonconsensual Drug Use. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
[Part One]
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“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
It had to be close to the hundredth time you’d in the past week, in the days since you woke up in a distressingly pastel bedroom, hostage to your two always worryingly possessive, but only recently deranged boyfriends. You knew, more concretely, that it was around the eleventh time you’d spouted that exact line today and the fourth time in the past hour, and as always, you were answered with a sympathetic glance, a patronizingly sweet smile. You could only be thankful it was coming from Satoru, this time. Suguru would’ve been much more condescending.
“Because we love you.” Another common sentiment, purred with just as much enthusiasm as it had been the first time you’d heard it, or the twelfth, or the forty-seventh. “And because you look good in pink.”
You sighed audibly, and Satoru pretended not to notice – only pulling you that much closer and resting his head on your shoulder. You were quickly learning that personal space, like many prior luxuries you hadn’t known to enjoy, was a right that Satoru and Suguru could revoke at will. Currently, your body was folded against Satoru’s – your back slotted against his chest and his legs spread on either side of you, the chain still attached to your ankle spread out over the mattress and the handheld console he was only partially focused on balanced on your lap. You tried to treasure the opportunity to stare mindlessly at a screen (a special privilege, considering your usual means of entertainment consisted of crayons, elementary-grade chapter books, and a plastic tea set), but for whatever reason, watching Satoru play Animal Crossing for three consecutive hours was just as under stimulating as it had been pre-kidnapping.
“That’s not a real answer.” You nudged your elbow into his chest, and when that didn’t work, pushed at his arm, just trying to get his attention. Yet another perk of your newly assigned position in this relationship – Satoru and Suguru had never made an exceptional effort to listen to you before, but now, you might as well have been speaking another language. “This is just—It’s just been so much, and it’s all so frustrating, and I don’t—”
And, just like that, you were tearing up – your vision going foggy as you struggled to hold back tears, to swallow down the whine building at the base of your throat. It was less that you’d been crying more easily and more than you were always on the verge of tears; your anger and frustration and confusion constantly at their peaks, just waiting for an excuse to spill over and leak out. Immediately, Satoru dropped his console, cooing softly as he scooped you up and turned you around. You moved to hide your face, but he was faster, more determined – his hands cupping your cheeks before you could swat him away. You weren’t crying yet, not really, but he took pains to hum and kiss away the few tears that escaped despite your best efforts. It was alarming, that crying was the only thing that consistently got them to hear you out. You tried not to think about the implications of that when paired with the pastel-pink aesthetic and the overall toddler-adjacent treatment.
“I’m really frustrated, ‘toru,” you repeated, melting into his hands. There was another coo, another peck to your forehead, before you went on. “I just— I need to know why you’re doing this. You can tell me that much, can’t you?”
“I’ve already told you, baby. It’s because we—” You cut in with a miserable, heart-breakingly pathetic sniffle, and Satoru pouted, shaking his head. Still, he broke quickly enough. “Look, you know that Suguru and I had it kinda rough before we met you, right? When we were growing up, I mean.”
Vaguely. You knew that Suguru’s parents died while he was in high school, that it’d been some kind of freak accident, but he didn’t like to talk about it. You’d met Satoru’s family once, but ‘met’ might’ve been the wrong word for it. Really, you’d sat in the antechamber of an estate the side of a small shopping mall for a little over an hour, answering questions asked by a woman who hadn’t introduced herself before being informed that, while you were not deemed a suitable partner for Satoru, you also weren’t dangerous enough to be worth the effort it would take to actively keep you away from him. Most of the time, you just tried to pretend that neither of your former partners, current captors had any immediate family.
Reluctantly, you nodded, and Satoru rewarded you with another kiss – this one to the corner of your jaw. “I know you probably don’t get it, but me and Suguru – we care about you, we care about you a lot. And the world’s a really, really dangerous place. If something happened to you out there…” He trailed off, laughing airily. An arm looped around your waist, pulling you into his lap, his chest. Instead of trying to resist, you curled against him, burying your face in his shirt as he rubbed slow, small circles into the small of your back. “You’re better off here. Getting to keep you all to ourselves is just a bonus.”
You wanted to scream, to bash your fists against his chest, to point out that they were the only people who’d ever isolated, assaulted, or kidnapped you, but he was doing what you asked him to, and the worst thing you could’ve done was give him a reason not to be as generous in the future. “…I don’t understand why you had to do—” You nodded towards your clothes – a set of bright pink cotton pajamas dotted with strawberries – then the rest of the room. “—this, though, if you’re trying to keep me safe. Couldn’t you have just… not?”
Another laugh, this one more sincere. “That part’s just for us.” This time, when he squeezed you against his chest, he didn’t let go until you were squirming against him, struggling to breathe. “Suguru does tend to let the roleplay get a little out-of-hand, but it really does help. There’s just something about seeing you all sweet n’ dressed up, surrounded by cute, soft things...” He trailed off with an airy laugh. “Makes me feel… secure, y’know? Like we’re keeping you safe.”
Something thick and jagged caught in your throat. “…this was Suguru’s idea?”
If he heard you, then that was a question he wasn’t interested in answering. “I meant the other part, too.” And then, with a slightly longer, more lingering kiss to the apex of your throat. “You look really good in pink.”
You felt it a second later – a familiar shape pressing into your ass, already worryingly stiff. You pulled away from him, your disgust too reflexive to hide. “…it gets you hard to see adult women dressed like first-graders?”
“No, princess.” A pause, a sudden nip to the side of your neck. “It gets me hard when you dress like a first-grader.”
Thankfully, before you had time to start to unpack that, you heard the bedroom door open and glanced over your shoulder to find Suguru leaning against the frame. Concern was written clearly across his expression, but it dulled to affectionate exasperation when he saw Satoru wiping away your non-existent tears. “I thought I heard a struggle,” he explained, unprompted. You hadn’t put up much of a physical fight yet, but they were both clearly concerned you would – the literal chain around your ankle was evidence enough of that. “Is it time for the little princess to take her medicine?”
You seized up at the mention of your ‘medicine’ – sedatives administered in the form of tiny, heart-shaped pills that left you exhausted and disoriented for hours at a time, if they didn’t knock you out entirely. It was what they’d used the night they’d taken you, and Suguru seemed to like to pull them out whenever you cried, or screamed, or did anything they should’ve known to expect from an acclimating victim.
To his credit, Satoru didn’t jump at the opportunity to drug you into oblivion. Not this time, at least. “She got a little overwhelmed. I took care of it.”  You slumped against him, letting yourself relax. That was your mistake, really. Maybe you should’ve had more realistic expectations, too. “But,” he went on, pushing another, sloppier kiss into your neck. “She’s still pretty fragile. A few hours off probably wouldn’t hurt.”
It was awful – how easily they could talk about you like some distant, abstract subject, how quickly they seemed to forget you were capable of listening when not addressed directly. With a smile, Suguru moved forward, resting one knee on the edge of your mattress while Satoru held you in place – keeping you from scrambling back as far as your chain would allow. You tried to grit your teeth, to keep your mouth shut, but Suguru only clicked his tongue, cupping your face with one hand while pressing something small and chalky against your pursed lips with the other. “Darling,” he drawled, infusing as much syrupy condescension into the pet name as was humanly possible. “You remember what happens to bad girls who don’t do what they’re told, don’t you?”
Instantly, your heart dropped. You remembered.
Driving your nails into your palms, you unlocked your jaw and hesitantly opened your mouth. Suguru barely waited for your lips to part before shoving the pill past your teeth and down your throat, keeping two lingers lodged in your airway even as you sputtered and gagged around him. It was less that you swallowed his pill and more that you would’ve had to choke down anything he all-but force-fed you, but whatever you called it, Suguru was satisfied – drawing back with a pleased hum only to tap his saliva-coated fingers against Satoru’s lips, instead. You shut your eyes, but it wasn’t enough.
The last thing you heard were the wet, stomach-turning noises of Satoru’s affection before everything went fuzzy.
~
You only really acted out once – about three weeks in, when the initial adrenaline was starting to fade and the slow, vicious dread of prolonged captivity had just begun to set in. You weren’t allowed to leave your windowless, ambiently lit bedroom, and by end of the first week, time had turned into something viscous and unforgiving, the endless hours only broken up by visits from Satoru and Suguru. It was hard not to be constantly on edge – unsure if you’d been alone for hours and minutes, simultaneously dying to see them again and hoping you never would. It was hard to tell what they were thinking, when you were so caught in in your own spiraling thoughts to try and guess at theirs.
Speaking of – their dynamic had become a little clearer, even if how things had spiraled out of control so quickly was still lost on you. You and Satoru had always been the dominant personalities in your relationship, with Suguru as the calming presence that leveled the two of you out, setting arguments and keeping you from tearing out each other’s throats. Now, though, the roles were reversed. Satoru was happy enough to spend most of his time treating you like an oversized, particularly uncooperative stuffed animal; something to cuddle and coo over, but not necessarily train or expect to reciprocate. Suguru, though…
Suguru had expectations.
“I need you to hold still, love.”
Suguru’s fingers brushed over your spine as he fiddled with the complex array of buttons lining the back of tonight’s nightgown. You’d seen your closest, knew they must’ve spent a small fortune on dresses and shoes and accessories, but Suguru still seemed to prefer you in sheer, cotton nightgowns and lacey lingerie and humiliatingly childish loungewear – nothing you would’ve been able to wear outside of home, even if you’d put it on willingly. It was a blessing that Suguru and Satoru were as busy as they were – Satoru with his classes and Suguru with his religious group. Most of the time, you’d find Suguru’s chosen outfit on the foot of your bed and be trusted to dress yourself. Most of the time.
Just not tonight.
“Someone’s a little antsy.” It was Satoru, this time, as unhelpful as ever. He was sprawled across your bed, toying idly with your chain while you sat in front of a vanity on the other side of the room, deliberately avoiding your reflection in the tri-fold mirror. “You should’ve let me play with her in the tub. Then, she wouldn’t have the energy to squirm.”
You felt your face burn. As if being forced to drink out of sippy cups and color with crayons wasn’t enough, bathtime was quickly becoming one of your most unbearable daily trails. Suguru always made sure things stayed above-board, but having to watch Satoru fuck his own fist while Suguru lovingly dictated where, when, and how roughly to clean yourself wasn’t much better than the alternative.
“Absolutely not. You’re too rough, and the last thing we want is for our princess to get bruised because you can’t wait another half an hour.” Fenagling the last button into place, Suguru straightened his back, sighing contentedly. “Can you turn around for me?”
Biting down on the side of your tongue, you shifted on the velvet-cushioned stool, your back pressing into the edge of the vanity’s counter as you faced Suguru. You’d made a point of not looking at yourself, but you could imagine what he saw – a thin nightgown clinging to your damp skin, your posture shrunken and your eyes downcast, every part of you made to seem small and helpless. If the feeling of his gaze burning into you wasn’t telling enough, the overwhelming delight audible in his voice would’ve given him away in a heartbeat. “Satoru, you have your phone, right? I want a picture. And—oh.” Your eyes darted in his direction just in time to see him pull a stuffed animal from one of the larger stacks; a large, white rabbit teddy, its button eyes an overly familiar shade of blue. He held it by its ears as he handed it to you. “Hold onto this for a second, love.”
You felt something tighten in your chest. You were in a bad position. You were in a bad place. You needed to be careful, and yet, when you finally managed to say something, you could only seem to spit out the one thing you knew he wouldn’t want to hear. “I… I really don’t want to take a picture right now, if that’s alright.”
To his credit, Suguru’s didn’t falter, his grin only wavering slightly. “Love,” He paused, sighed. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to.”
“I know, but—” Your breath hitched in your throat. Really, it was a miracle you weren’t already crying. “Please, Suguru. Not right now.”
His expression darkened, and yet, the gentle sigh that slipped past his lips was nothing short of tender. Still holding the rabbit, he reached out – catching the lace of your nightgown’s collar with two fingers. For a second, he just played with the delicate fabric, careful not to damage it.
Then, before you could think to react, his fist was around your neck and you were being slammed into the vanity.
There was enough force behind the collision to splinter the wood upon impact, to knock the air out of your lungs and seed an awful knot of blinding pain in the back of your head. You gasped, but it was too late – his fist tightened around your throat and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move save what it took for your hands to find his and dig your nails into his wrist, his forearm, his knuckles, whatever you could reach. You never would’ve been able to pry him off, but you didn’t need to. He released you as abruptly as he’d lunged, and without his support, your body dropped off of the vanity’s now-dented desk and onto the carpeted floor, your dress falling into a limp heap around you. You were too shocked to cry, to sob, to scream. Suguru and Satoru had kidnapped you, dehumanized you, isolated you, but neither of them had ever hurt you. They’d never—
Except, that wasn’t true, was it? They had hurt you. The first thing Suguru ever didwas hurt you, bending you over his knee the second you disobeyed him, and Satoru helped.
For your own sake, you decided to consider this an escalation, a new development. Something neither of them would’ve been capable of, back when you still considered them your Suguru and your Satoru.
 You also decided, still for your own sake, that you couldn’t afford to think about this any longer. Suguru was already moving on, lowering himself to your height, pouting as he raked his fingers through your now-disheveled hair and evaluated your newly wrinkled dress. “I’m sorry, princess. I must’ve lost my temper. I know you must be upset – having your pretty outfit ruined and all.”
He waited a beat, then asked, “Don’t you have something to say to me?”
If you hadn’t been so scared, you might’ve slapped him. Instead, you just bit down on your bottom lip and mumbled an unsure “I… I’m sorry?”
“For what, exactly?”
“For—For talking back, and making you angry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know, love, I know. You would never mean to do anything like that.” He was still holding onto that fucking rabbit. You felt its velvet-soft material brush against your leg as he placed it, almost carefully, on the floor next to you. “I’ll tell you what – there don’t have to be any pictures. Why don’t you take your medicine, and we can allgo to bed?”
“No!” It was a purely automatic response, as reflexive as lashing out and latching onto his arm. When you realized what you were doing, you pulled away with a jolt, forcing your hands back into your lap and staring wide-eyed at the floor. “I mean, I’m sorry, I just—” You swallowed harshly. “Isn’t there… uh, another option? Please?”
Suguru opened his mouth, but Satoru cut in before he had the chance to answer. “Think it’s time to break out her pacifier, Suguru?”
You perked up. No part of you wanted to suck on a piece of plastic for the entertainment of your captors, sure, but it was better than the alternative. Fuck, you were having trouble of thinking of something that wasn’t.
Suguru seemed to like the idea, too. He shot Satoru an appreciative smile before pushing himself to his feet, before turning his attention back to you, eagerly waiting for your next bout of psychological torture.
It was only when he reached for the waistband of his sweatpants that you realized your mistake.
You might’ve protested – or, whined, at least – but the back of your skull still ached, and you could still see Satoru smirking in your peripheral, and he was already forcing his boxers below his hips, already curling a hand around the shaft of his cock. Disgustingly, terrifyingly, he was half-hard; his bloated tip flushed a darker shade of red, beads of arousal leaking from his blunt head and dripping down his shaft. Your thoughts seemed to waver, then fry, then blot out altogether – like a video game glitching in the middle of a cut scene. Maybe you should’ve just sat still for the fucking picture after all.
“The poor thing looks so startled,” Suguru cooed, glancing to Satoru. “Why don’t you lend her a hand?”
You were vaguely aware of Satoru moving, shifting, pushing himself off of your bed and crouching behind you. His thumb pushed past your lips and hooked your lower jaw easing your mouth open with as little grace as you had remaining dignity. You tried to bite down, obviously, but Suguru took hold of your hair and pulled – the sharp spike of pain immediately dispelling any thoughts of disobedience. “He’s helping you,” Suguru chimed, his voice taking on a cloying overtone. “You’ll have to thank him properly later on. When your mouth isn’t full, I mean.”
It wasn’t, but that changed quickly. Suguru was kind enough (or cruel enough) to move slowly, easing the head of his cock past your lips first, letting it sit on your tongue as you fought not to cringe against the bitter, musky taste. Satoru pulled his hand away as Suguru eased another inch into your mouth, then another, then another – letting out a rough groan as his tip hit the back of your throat with more than half of his shaft to spare. You fought the urge to gag, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You’d given him head before, but it’d always been on your own terms, with Satoru waiting on the sidelines to bail you out if you ever got tired of choking on your boyfriend’s stupidly big dick. Now, though, Satoru didn’t seem to want to do anything but breathe down your neck, and you doubted your consent was a factor either of them would stop to genuinely consider.
Ultimately, your enthusiastic cooperation proved unnecessary. Suguru kept his fingers tangled in your hair, his blunt nails biting into your scalp as he manually bobbed your head – slowly, at first, then faster, with enough force to leave your jaw sore after less than a minute of being split around his shaft. Saliva and pre-cum drooled from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chest and onto your nightgown, but if Suguru cared, the feeling of your throat convulsing around him was enough to warrant a momentary lapse in decency. “T-that’s it,” he muttered, mostly under his breath. “Good, good girl. See what happens when you’re well-behaved?”
You felt Satoru shift behind you, his hands skirting over your back as he skillfully undid the buttons Suguru had spent so much time fussing over. A pair of large, velvet-soft hands grazed over your waist, then your sides, before reaching your chest and cupping your tits – kneading the soft tissue like a pair twin stress balls fitted perfectly to his palms. “She looks better already,” Satoru laughed, thumbs swiping over your nipples. “You’re gonna thank mommy for being so nice with you, right?”
Suguru snorted. “I’m mommy?”
“Mhm. ‘cause you’re so pretty and you take such good care of our little princess.” He nudged you, propping his chin on your shoulder. “Go on, baby. Tell mommy how much you love him.”
You choked something out – more of a desperate whine than anything coherent – and Suguru threw his head back, cursing silently as his pace turned from sloppy to erratic. His cock battered into your throat with every thrust, your air supply constantly somewhere between minimal and nonexistent. It was only as the outskirts of your vision started to fade that Suguru hissed, gritting his teeth as he dragged your head into his hips, your nose pressing into his pubic bone and his cock so far down your throat, you could practically feel him in your lungs. A sudden twitch, a groaned exhale was all the warning you received before you felt something hot and thick fill your throat, your mouth, your diaphragm. He held you there for a moment, then another – savoring the sound of your fractured whimpering all-but drowned by his cum – before letting you go, watching through half-lidded eyes as you collapsed into Satoru’s waiting arms.
You lurched forward, moving to spit, to get him out of you, but Satoru’s hand was already covering your mouth – determined to keep Suguru’s taste on your tongue for that much longer. At the same time, you felt something small and soft being dropped onto your thighs, heard the shutter of a camera above you. Rather than trying to look at Suguru, you let your gaze fall to your lap.
Or, rather, the perfectly white, perfectly posed rabbit now resting peacefully on top of it.
~
It was two months before the chain came off – meaning, before Suguru and Satoru were happy enough with either your behavior or their security to let you roam freely (with heavy supervision, of course). It went without saying that you were ecstatic. You could barely sit still while Satoru undid the shackle, barely listen while Suguru told you their plans for the night – dinner and a movie marathon, not totally dissimilar to something you might’ve suggested when you still had the authority to be making suggestions. It didn’t matter. You were just happy to be doing anything, especially if it meant you got to leave that godawful room.
You only realized that you’d still been picturing your old apartment when you stepped out of the bedroom an abruptly realized you weren’t in an apartment at all, but a house – two stories with every window looking out onto a fence so tall, you would’ve had to be on the roof to see over it. It was decorated sparely, with what few shelves there were littered sporadically with Satoru’s gundams or parts of Suguru’s ongoing trinket collection, but minimalism was an appreciated change compared to the ongoing sensory nightmare that was your bedroom. You gawked at every empty surface, every plain white wall as Suguru herded you to the kitchen, where Satoru was busy plating what looked like udon. The seating arrangement was strange – there were only two chairs at the dining room table, but you were too caught up in your own euphoria to care. You grabbed a bowl and a pair of chopsticks, fell into a seat, and—
“Sweetheart,” Suguru started, his voice somewhat strained. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Uh,” You glanced at your bowl, abruptly confused. “Eating? I think?”
“Almost, but not quite. I guess I can’t blame you for not knowing.” He rounded the table, coming to stand at your side. You tried to get up, but it only took a hand on your shoulder to stop you. “Even something as simple as using utensils can be dangerous for little ones like you. Me and Satoru will be feeding you by hand, from now on.”
It was strange, really – how many little deaths you could die before going numb to it. It was terrible, how many times you could hear one of the two men you loved most in the world say you were more incapable than a literal child before it all just turned to static.
You wondered, distantly, if Suguru was offended that you didn’t engage with this part of him more willingly. It was clearly sincere, if fucked-up, and if he’d ever bothered to ask, you probably would’ve agreed to try it – not that you would’ve had much of a choice, in the later stages of your relationship. It was different for Satoru – as long as you were trapped and at his mercy, he’d be happy. Suguru wanted something… different, more complex. Suguru wanted reliance.
Suguru wanted to break you down.
“If you say so.” You heard your voice, felt your mouth moving, but you weren’t talking. “Can I… um, would it be alright if I asked for something, first?”
Suguru’s satisfaction was almost palpable. “Of course. Anything for you.”
“I think I’d like to take my medicine, now.”
Suguru answered quickly, but not quickly enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Satoru reach for the cabinet above the stove before thinking better of it and glancing over his shoulder, as if to make sure you hadn’t seen. It took everything you had not to react as Suguru responded.
“Of course,” he said with an airy laugh, nearly purring. “Not right now, though – we’ll wait until it’s closer to your bedtime. Try to focus on dinner.”
You only nodded eagerly, smiling sincerely for the first time in weeks.
~
It took two weeks for you to get your hands on their pills (you stole two, just in case), and three more to convince Satoru that a field trip – his description, not yours – wouldn’t be that big of a deal, not if you kept it short, not if Suguru didn’t find out. He’d always been ecstatic when you visited him at his university (a historic private school, so unlike the local community college you’d gone to, the one you missed with all your heart), and besides, what was worst that could happen? He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight, and the students were still on winter break. You could even wear your old clothes, just to make sure you didn’t attract attention. It’d just be the two of you, all alone in his office, with hours and hours and hours to kill. Really, how could it possibly go wrong?
You waited until you reached his office to slip both stolen pills into his coffee. He’d barely gotten his belt off before the effects kicked-in, but still, you waited until he’d been reduced to a drooling, half-conscious shell of himself before making your escape.
You’d been right – his campus really was deserted. You hurried past dark lecture halls and empty offices as you rushed in a direction you hoped would lead to an exit, glanced out of windows that looked onto lifeless courtyards as you thought about what to do next. The police weren’t an option. They hadn’t hurt you, not in any way you’d be able to prove, and even if you had the evidence, Satoru was rich, and to the law, there was no greater proof of innocence. You tried to think of phone numbers, of addresses, but you hadn’t had many friends before meeting Satoru and Suguru, and they’d made sure to whittle that unimpressive number down to zero over the course of your relationship. You cursed under your breath, even though there was no one around to hear you. You should’ve taken Satoru’s wallet after he passed out. You wouldn’t have been able to use to his cards, but it would’ve been nice to—
You rounded the next corner, then froze.
At the end of the hall, like an omen of death granted human form, stood Suguru.
You took a faltering step backward before breaking into a full, heart-pounding sprint. Suguru wasn’t close, but he was close enough. He let you get all of three steps away before fist curled around the back of your shirt, his muscular arm wrapping around your midriff, trapping you with as much effort as it might’ve taken to lift a kitten by its scruff. Still, you thrashed, struggled, fought – throwing your elbow into his stomach and kicking at his legs as he lifted you off the ground entirely, pinning your body against his chest. He wasn’t supposed to be here. You were told he’d be at his shrine today, all day, with a thousand little things to do that’d keep him distracted until you got away. This wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to be—
“Calm down,” he muttered, his voice distant, cold. “You’ll only make this worse for yourself.”
Immediately, you went still. It was a vague threat, but it was a threat, and Suguru had never threatened you before.
Or, you didn’t think he had, at least. It was getting so hard to tell, after everything they’d done to you.
He didn’t sigh, or shake his head, or speak again. He only lowered you back to the ground and, after taking your hand in his, led you back down the vacant halls, past the abandoned classrooms, and to the door of Satoru’s office. He paused outside of it, his dark eyes falling to you in a way you could only describe as void-like. You had to wonder why you every thought you knew him.
“You were trying to…?”
He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. Reluctantly, you nodded, and Suguru turned away from you, shouldering open the office door.
Satoru was on his feet, but only barely. He was supporting himself on the corner of his desk, his pale face flushed red and his clothes noticeably disheveled. At some point, he’d lost his sunglasses, and you watched his sky-blue eyes go wide as Suguru crossed the threshold with you following shortly after. “Suguru, princess.” His voice was weak, breathy. You could only imagine how you’d sounded strung out on their sedatives. “How far did she get? She caught me off-guard, but—”
Suguru let go of your hand and closed the distance between him and Satoru. You heard the sharp crack before you could process what he was doing – saw Suguru raise his hand and Satoru’s head snap to the side without ever linking either action with the other. Even Satoru, always so resilient, took a moment to recover, his expression going blank as Suguru spoke, unphased. “If you ever leave me, I’ll break your legs so badly, you’ll never be able to walk again.” You didn’t have to wonder if he meant it. It didn’t matter if he meant it. The words alone left shaking too violently to move, let alone run. “And if you do anything to help her, I’ll gut you alive.”
Your eyes darted to Satoru, to his visibly swollen cheek. Somehow, he seemed even more flushed than he had seconds before, his eyes half-lidded and his lips slightly parted. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought he looked—
Oh, god.
You should’ve gotten away when you had the chance.
Of course, things only got worse when he opened his mouth. “Yes, mommy.”
“Get on the couch and lay down. It’s not like you’re good for anything else, right now.”
“I will, mommy.”
He obeyed mechanically, collapsing onto the well-worn sofa that sat against the far wall. You’d always thought it was too big, too bulky, especially in such a confined state. When you asked Satoru why he bothered to keep it, he’d just laughed and claimed he liked to keep his guests comfortable.
You doubted you counted as a guest. Then again, you doubted you were going to be very comfortable, either.
Suguru glanced over his shoulder, his lifeless stare boring into you. “Straddle his waist and help him undress. You did this, so you’ll be taking responsibility.”
Fear was a surprisingly strong motivation. You were scrambling onto the sofa before you had a chance to think, planting a knee on either side of Satoru’s hips as you fumbled clumsily with his shirt. For his part, Satoru was either incapable of or unwilling to help you – a distant, careless smile soon painting itself across his lips as he watched you struggle. When he did move, it was only to bring a hand to the back of your neck and drag you downward, his mouth crashing into yours. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy attempt to choke you to death with his tongue, but Satoru still groaned as you separated, his face immediately finding the crook of your neck. “So glad Suguru got you back,” he slurred, nuzzling into you. “He’s so hot when he gets all jealous like that.”
You were only half-listening to him, already distracted. Suguru had moved, too – kneeling behind you, his hands finding your hips and dragging them into the air. Your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties to the side, and just as abruptly, three of Suguru’s broad fingers were pushed into your cunt. You whimpered at the sudden, borderline painful intrusion, but Suguru only scoffed. “Be grateful you’re getting this much prep. It’s already more than you deserve.”
That didn’t do anything to stop the pain, though. Suguru was merciless – sheathing his digits to the knuckle, spreading his fingers apart, making it clear that he wasn’t doing this for your pleasure, even if he didn’t seem to be getting much out of it, either. You tried to shut your eyes, to grit your teeth and bare it, but any attempts to ignore reality were swiftly cut short by the feeling of his unoccupied hand coming down on your ass with enough force to bruise. “Did I say could stop?”
He hadn’t, but Satoru was making things difficult – keeping you slotted against him as closely as you could. As Suguru’s fingers fucked into you, you managed to get an arm between your body and his, for the waistband of his jeans down just far enough to earn a satisfied grunt from Suguru. Strangely, the worst part wasn’t the strain in your cunt, or the heat of Satoru’s cock pressing into your stomach, but the feeling of Satoru’s wide, toothy grin pressing into the side of your neck – tangible proof of his euphoria. It was awful – just how clearly he was enjoying this. At least Suguru had the decency to go blank.
It was too much too suddenly with too little build up, but Suguru knew your body and, more damningly, your body knew him. Barely a minute had passed before you felt arousal stain the inside of your thighs, before the sound of his digits plunging into you took on a distinctive wet quality. You let your head lull into Satoru’s chest and dig your teeth into your tongue, willing away any embarrassing noises that would’ve added to your ongoing degradation, but if Suguru cared, you couldn’t tell. He soldiered on with that brutal, unyielding pace, ignoring your clit entirely in favor of beating his frustration directly into your pussy. Really, it was a miracle you felt anything at all. Well, anything beyond pain, anyway.
It was only when you tensed against Satoru, when you finally let a single, fractured moan slip past your haphazardly sealed lips, that Suguru abruptly stopped; pulling out of you before you could fully process what was happening. You glanced over your shoulder, misplaced disappointment softening the harsher edges of your fear, but Satoru was quick to catch your chin – redirecting your attention back to him. “Where do you think you’re going, princess?” he asked, rocking his hips into yours. “You’ve gotta stay on my good side too, remembered?”
As if you could forget.
Behind you, Suguru glowered. “I’ll deal with you when we get home.” To Satoru, and then, to you, “Do it. Make sure he doesn’t cum.”
Your instructions were clear, albeit unappreciated. Satoru let you straighten your back, his hands kneading at your thighs as you picked yourself up and, as mindlessly as you could, aligned the head of his cock with your entrance. You wanted to move slowly, to give your abused cunt time to adjust, but Suguru proved uncharacteristically impatient; taking you by the shoulders and spearing you on Satoru’s cock before you could so much as consider protesting. You went stiff, your brain too busy trying to make sense of your sudden fullness to order your body to move, but Satoru didn’t seem to mind – only tightening his vice-like hold and bucking into you from below, his cock battering into the deepest, most vulnerable part of you without the slightest trace of concern.
You were too startled to make noise, but Satoru had always been so much louder than you, so much more eager to pour out his every little thought. “She’s so fucking tight,” he breathed, grinding into you. “Been ages since I had her on top of me, too. Almost forgot how—” A slight gasp, a pitchy whine, “Almost forgot how pretty she could get, sitting on her daddy’s lap.”
Your sight blurred, and a few seconds later, you realized you were crying. Suguru didn’t respond, but you heard fabric shifting, felt one of his hands disappear for a moment before returning, now on the center of your back. With more force than he really had to use, he shoved you back down, pressing you flat against Satoru as he maneuvered himself behind you. Space was limited, availability even more so, but still, it wasn’t until you felt the head of his cock press against your stuffed slit that you realized what he was doing.
“N—no,” It was almost impressive, just how quickly you abandoned what was left of your pride. You tried to pick yourself back up, but Satoru was a snare – an arm looking around your waist while the other found your hip, holding you still for Suguru. “Please, you can’t, it’s not—It won’t fit, and—”
And, just like that, Suguru was pushing into you, bottoming out in a single thrust. As his hips pressed into your ass and he let out a quiet, almost inaudible groan, you could only wonder if either of them had ever really loved you.
There was a lapse – more for their sakes than yours – before Satoru started moving, already acclimated. “Such a good girl,” he drawled, grinding into you, seemingly unhappy unless he and Suguru were both fully planted inside of you. “See? It’s not that bad, right? I knew you’d be able to handle it.”
But you couldn’t. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably, hitched sobbed and agonized moans trickling past your lips every time either of them moved. Suguru sucked in a shuddering breath, then planted a hand on the small of your back, thrusting into you sharp and deep – his movements a stark contrast to Satoru’s. The stretch along was unbearable. Even on your best days, you’d struggle to take either of them to the hilt. Taking both seemed fantastical, implausible, fatal. It was genuinely surprising that you weren’t already dead.
It was doubly as surprising, then, that it felt so good.
 Most of it had to be your own fried nerves trying to make the best of it, to get you through this as quickly and as painlessly as was possible. You weren’t in control of anything; not your hands as they clawed blindly at Satoru’s chest, not your hips as you bucked pitifully into Suguru, and certainly not your cunt as it clenched even tighter around the cocks splitting it open. Satoru let out an airy laugh, two fingers dropping to your neglected clit. “It’s okay, baby, you deserve to feel good too,” he gushed, pushing lazy circles into the small bundle of nerves, drawing out yet another miserable sob. “Told you she’d like it.”
“She’s not supposed to,” Suguru grunted, digging his nails into your waist. Still, that didn’t stop him from burying himself inside of you, his cock twitching against the walls of your cunt. You couldn’t be sure what it was – the fullness, maybe, or the overstimulation, or your own desperation to just get this over with – but your vision burnt white, your body convulsing against Satoru’s as you came undone around them. Satoru followed shortly after, digging his teeth into the curve of your neck as he pumped something searing and vileinto you. Suguru let out a rough, throaty growl – throwing his head forward and hilting himself entirely inside of you. You shook your head, pleading silently, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to notice, and even if he had, you doubted it would’ve been enough to stop him from cumming inside of you, from ensuring that no part of you was left uncorrupted.
There was a short period of numb, thoughtless stillness – filled only by Suguru’s panting, Satoru’s mindless cooing, and the absence of your voice. Suguru shifted, and for a second, you panicked, convincing yourself that there was more, that he wasn’t done – but he only pulled out of you, fixing his clothes with his eyes focused pointedly on the point where your cunt was still stretched around Satoru’s cock, where it leaked and drooled onto Satoru’s lap. You weren’t so resilient, letting your eyes fall shut and slumping against Satoru.
For the very first time, as you lost consciousness, you felt the smallest, tiniest, most microscopic spec of relief that, at the very least, you wouldn’t be responsible for cleaning yourself up.
~
“Stay in the car. I’ll call when it’s time for you to bring her in.”
The ride had been near-silent, only occasionally interrupted by an odd comment from Satoru or a hissed warning from Suguru. Suguru drove while Satoru held onto you in the back seat, keeping you gathered in his arms, his jacket draped loosely over your shoulders. Satoru only nodded as Suguru let himself out, making no move to follow. Whatever this was, they must’ve already talked about it while you were blacked out.
You waited until Suguru had disappeared into the house before speaking, your voice hoarse and unsteady. “He hit you.”
“Mhm. You did a number on my chest, too.”
“But—” You cut yourself off and started over. “He hit you.”
He flashed you a smile, as careless as it was dismissive. “What do you want me to say, baby?”
“That this insane. That he’s insane.” You crossed your arms over your chest, curling into yourself. “You can leave, Satoru – we can leave together. All we’d have to do is—” The air hitched in your throat, but you managed to snarl something out. “—fucking go.”
“And why would we want to do that, exactly?”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
Satoru laughed, the sound breathy and light. “Because,” he said, nuzzling into your hair, “Suguru loves me. He loves us. You should know that – after today, especially.”
You opened your mouth, but shut it just as quickly.
This time, you had a feeling that he’d given you the only answer he was going to.
The next few minutes passed slowly. Satoru kept himself occupied, pushing slow, lingering kisses into your cheek and neck, while you stared mindlessly out of the window, trying to savor the last minutes of sunlight that you’d have for a long, long time. Eventually, Satoru’s phone buzzed. He didn’t even bother to check it before gathering you up in his arms and carrying you inside. You expected him to take you back to your bedroom, with its stuffed-animal lined shelves and bright pink walls and polished silver chain, but instead, he turned down a hallway you’d never seen before, into a bedroom that was distinctly not yours. Suguru was waiting for him, standing in the doorway to a dark closet. The edges of his lips quirked upward when he saw you. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was the closest thing you’d gotten to one from him all day.
Satoru placed you next to him, and your attention turned back to the closet. Any clothes or shoes had been cleared out to make room for a single, silver dog crate, nearly big enough to stretch from one wall to the other. The bottom was padded with a light pink blanket that you recognized from your bed, and a white rabbit plush had been left in the far right corner. A deadbolt hung, undone, from the open kennel door.
You might’ve broken down entirely, if you hadn’t been so devastated.
Suguru’s voice was deafening and serene, as beautifully composed as it was unspeakably terrible. “Get in, love.”
“I’m not—”
“You should probably listen to him,” Satoru cut in, placing a hand on your shoulder. “This is just about the nicest thing he suggested.”
You swallowed, your heart failing to beat. Out of some ancient, primal, preservatory instinct, your body moved towards the crate, falling to its knees and bowing its head to fit inside. The kennel was big for a dog, not for a person. You had just enough room to huddle against the farthest wall as Suguru slid the door into place, the deadbolt locking with a sadistic click.
“It really is a shame,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I was hoping you could be our darling princess for a little longer, but I’m sure you’ll make a much better bitch.”
Satoru helped him back to his feet, and together, they retreated back to the closet door, Satoru casting one more lovesick smile over his shoulder as he shut the door behind them, leaving you in total, endless, solitary darkness.
Your wretched sobs echoed off the barren walls as you finally started to cry.
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bamsara · 1 year ago
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Some side characters/cult members for The Rehabilitation of Death. This originally was just supposed to be some light sketches but now they're all fully lined up and colored oops
Info about all of them under the cut:
All followers were designed based off of the actaul follower forms in game. Characters in order:
Bremar 🦊 (He/Him): Boy that often gets peer pressured into doing dangerous or scary things by his friends/bullies. Good heart, not a lot of spine yet.
Finor 🐰 (She/They): Elderly follower.  A devoted follower, but much too in the habit of behaving like an overbearing grandmother to those who aren’t even her kits. Comes from bearing so many in life before losing them to heretics in the wilds. Lambert found her already aged out in the forest after her husband and family were slaughtered, and she has been caring for others ever since her rescue. Stern and not a big fan of PDA, but good heart.
Cow Nurse 🐄 (No Name yet, She/Her): A nurse that works in the healing bay; takes care of the injured and sick while the lamb is gone. Stern and easily frustrated but it comes from a place of concern.
The Shrew and The Otter (No names yet) 🐁🦦 (Both She/Her): Lovers that often leave their work posts to be affectionate with each other in secret (even though everyone already knows). Eventually asks the Lamb to officiate their wedding.
Joon 😺 (Any/They/Them) (Otherwise known as 'the yellow cat' from that one COTL short): The best farmer the cult has, wasn't born until long after the bishop's defeats, and is a part of the generation that is blissfully unaware of Bishops prior tyranny. Bright but a little nervous at times, the Lamb asks them to watch over a certain 'new arrival' as their own hands are full, and Joon becomes the unaware caretaker for a certain God of Chaos.
Paazi 🐸 and her parents🦅🦇: (She/Her for Paazi, Unnamed: Eagle is He/Him, Bat is They/Them): Paazi is a orphan rescue from Anura found as young as a tadpole, later adopted by this older couple. She is the frog that fell from the cliffside and was later saved by Narinder, in which gains him her parent's appreciation.
Grekimar 🐷 (He/Him): A lumber worker who was exiled from his village in Anura, and taken in by the cult as 'all past sins are forgiven here'. Very critical of Narinder's presence, and is one spit away from dissension
Jayen 🐻 (He/Him): One of the two followers Narinder killed during his dramatic arrival to the cult grounds when Jayen was just trying to protect his leader, later resurrected by Narinder and Lambert in Chapter 2. Conflicted about Narinder's presence: grateful to be resurrected (Lamb told Jayen that Narinder helped) but still traumatized from the murder. Feels tingly in his hand and arm often. Sweet but nervous.
Tyren 🐶 (He/Him): One of the stone miners. Rescued from Darkwood. The very 'golden lab retriever' personality makes him one of the more friendlier types; this dog has a big crush on the Lamb that goes past prophet idolization.
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smutoperator · 17 days ago
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A Horny Hostage
Lalisa Manoban (Lisa) x Male Reader
Kinkvember Chapter 1
Main kinks: kidnapping, golden shower, interracial (BWC), car sex
Word count: 3239.
New York City, United States, October 15th, 2024
What a day it has been for Lisa. Never in her wildest dreams when she started her idol career, she thought she would become a Victoria's Secret angel. She was as happy as ever.
"Come here, let's take some pictures," a photographer oriented her, bringing Lisa close to a van with its right side door open, where you took some pics of her, with her liking the best the one where she flaunts her cute ass.
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"Good, let's take some more pics," you say to her after she looks at the ones captured in your camera and approves them. However, all that was just a trap to lure the (not so) innocent Thai girl into your plan.
A pair of masked dudes emerges from the side and shoves Lisa inside the van; you follow them, getting yourself on the backseat of the van while your two partners drive it away from the show. The newly crowned Victoria's Secret Angel is now just a hostage.
Lisa panics a bit; she screams for help at first, but no help is about to come. "So, let's blackmail her billionaire boyfriend into dropping some good money for the new woman we got with us," you say to your partners in crime. Despite the crowded traffic of New York City, your van quickly passes through Brooklyn, then Queens, and soon reaches the wilderness of Long Island.
Lisa is tied up, but you slowly calm her down. "We are going to free you in exchange for some favors," you tell her. "What kind of favors?" she asks. "You'll find out soon," it's all you can say for now.
You untie Lisa and start touching her body parts. Her long legs, her dark hair, and then hovers your hands around her pussy. "Careful, boy, you're looking for something that you can't handle," Lisa says to you. But you quickly shut her down. "I'm pretty sure I can handle you fairly easily; if your ugly ass boyfriend can do that and all he's got is money, I can do it too," you tell her.
"So you think you can handle this?" Lisa says, flaunting her ass for you. That arrogant brat is starting to get on your nerves. You then play with the dark wings from her outfit, which were stored inside the fan as well. "Fallen angel, I want to see you turning into a wild devil," you tell her. "If you say so, then I'll show you something," Lisa says.
"Then show me what kind of badass you are," you tell her, reaching with your hands to touch her pussy. "You have a nice pussy out there, you tell her, taking off the bottom parties of her outfit and leaving just her panties on. "Those bare legs are so sexy," you say, running your hands over them. "Take it off; I want to see you with just a bra and panties, the way I bet your boyfriend does every day," you tell Lisa, who obliges and takes the piece of fabric covering her bra.
"You really like to flaunt how much of a hottie you are since leaving idol life," you say to Lisa. "Well, if you let me, I'll do it even more," Lisa says, reaching towards your crotch and noticing your cock is already throbbing for her and ready to burst off those pants. But you slow her down, grabbing her neck and kissing her. "You're a bad bitch, aren't you?" you ask her.
"You're hot as fuck; now come suck my cock," you tell Lisa, unzipping your pants and showing off that big white cock to her. "Bet it's much bigger than your boyfriend's," you tell her. Lisa strokes it, then bends over to get a taste of your cock, allowing you to see her great ass from above as her sexy mouth gets it wet.
"Hmmmm, it tastes so good," Lisa says. "Fuck yeah, it does," you reply, letting her take the initiative and blow that pipe off while you caress her ass. You push your balls closer to her mouth, challenging her as she deepthroats you. But you quickly put a halt to her fun, pulling her top down and sucking her little tits.
"Hmmm, you like my cute little boobies," Lalisa says to you. "Yes, they are cute, but your mouth full of my cock is hotter," you say, dunking her head against your massive shaft and making her take it. "Fuck, that booty is so hot; I didn't know Asian girls could be so thicc at the bottom," you compliment her ass. "Well, it's definitely good; I bet you want to put that big fat cock in it later," she says.
"Give those fucking balls some love too," you tell Lisa, letting her lick it. But what she likes the most about sucking cock is the ability to deepthroat it, so Lisa just gets back up and takes your whole shaft in her mouth shortly after.
"Ohhhh shit, you suck my cock so good," you say to Lisa. "It's because it's so big and perfect for my little mouth," she answers as you just let her take it and give her butt a little spanking. "Now I want you to lick it like ice cream," you say to Lisa.
Lisa obliges and licks that shaft like the good whore she is. "Perfect, keep licking it and look at me when you do it," you tell her as she giggles. "Come on, show me you're a bad bitch; it's just you and me in the back seat of this car," you continue.
You pull Lisa's panties down, giving her sexy ass a few spankings. "Get them all the way down; I'll keep them as a souvernir," you say to her. "Now get on the floor and spread those legs," you give her another command.
You reach your hands and start toying with Lisa's fuckholes. Her pussy gets some fingering while your thumb goes straight into her butthole. You enjoy watching her moans just get muffled by your massive cock stretching her mouth.
"Perfect cocksucker, let me reward you for that," you say to her. "OUCH FUCK YES," Lisa screams as you start repeatedly hitting her ass hard. "Good girl," you say after, patting her head too and pushing it deeper down your shaft.
"You want that dick in your Thai pussy?" you ask Lisa. "Of course I do," she answers. "Then let's go for a ride," you say. "Bro, she is indeed the bad bitch you claimed; I'm jealous," the guy driving the van says, sliding the window down to check it a bit.
"Let's go, baby," Lisa says as she gets your cock wet with a few more suckings. You take her top off and then finally manage to grab her panties as a souvenir like you wanted, pulling it down once again and this time for good. Lisa is now butt naked as she prepares to sit her cunt on your cock.
"OHHHHH FUCKKKK," Lisa gets surprised by the size of your big white manhood in her pussy. Even her boyfriend's can't match. As a big white cock whore, she's truly having the time of her life. You make sure to use your hands to reach and push your shaft as deep as you can in her cunt. "OH MY GODDDD, UHHHHH," she moans as your tip is already reaching her cervix, the 10 inches of your massive pale pole stratching her out and bulging under Lalisa's long torso.
Lisa tries to bounce on your big cock, but her fun is short-lived. As soon as you get fully inside her, you start pumping it upwards. "UHHHH, UHHHHH," she says, getting caught off guard by your thrusts. "OH FUCK ME," she moans as you grab her butt and take full control of her body, your hips clapping fast against her cheeks as you destroy her cunt.
"UHHHHHH, UHHHHH, UHHHHH," Lisa keeps moaning as your cock attacks her pussy relentlessly, her body swinging as the car makes a sharp turn. "OHHHHHH MY GODDDD, JUST LIKE THAT, YEAHHHH," she screams with no fear of getting heard by anyone besides your crew. She clings to any support she can find in the van, as you only increase the pace of your pumps.
You thurst so hard against Lisa's Thai pussy that her pink anus is already winking. "DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP, USE ME," Lisa begs. And indeed, you won't stop, moving Lisa's body to the side and keep pumping her pussy hard, treating her like the fucktoy her boyfriend had too much respect for to use her like that, unlike you, who has none for this whore.
"FUCKKKKKK," Lisa keeps screaming, her voice cracking at all points. She probably used it more already by moaning like a bitch than in any of her performances as a soloist. "Oh, it's so good; oh, it's so fucking good; keeps using that pussy; oh my GODDDDDDD," she moans. "Uh uh, uh uh, uh uh," she moans as even her little tits are managing to bounce, given the intensity of your thrusts against her.
"OH YEAH, OH YEAH, SPANK MY ASS," Lisa says as you add extra hit to her already intense punishment, slapping her butt nonstop without losing any speed as you continue to fuck her pussy like a madman. "Come closer," you tell Lisa, who is so numb already she doesn't even notice the roof of the van, hitting her head against it.
"That's so good, so good, so good," Lisa repeats as you push her skinny body close to yours. Lisa stares at the window, the cary flying fast towards the roads of Long Island while your cock does your work in her cunt. Her spatial awareness is completely gone as her head keeps hitting the roof, and your cock hitting her cervix at all moments doesn't help.
"OHHHHHH GODDDDDDD," Lisa screams as she clings onto you, barely avoiding a hit against the glass as you keep attacking her pussy. A police helicopter flies close to your car, making you wonder if they are coming to rescue her. But you just don't care; her pussy is too good and worth getting arrested for.
You finally come to a stop, giving a little tap on Lisa's ass. "Good girl," you praise her abilities to take your white cock in such a confined space. But that's no surprise, given her flexibility acquired from years of dancing. You give her pussy a few extra pumps. "Oh my God, you fuck me so good, ah, ah, ah ah, ah," Lisa moans as your balls hit all the way up to her winking butthole.
Lisa climbs out of your cock, moving cautiously to avoid hitting the roof. She twists sideways and tells you to put your cock back in her pussy, starting a reverse cowgirl ride where the guys driving the fan will have a privileged and distracting view of her hot body bouncing on your cock.
Well, so she thought. You aren't keen on changing your ways, pumping your cock once again hard against her pussy. "OH MY GOD, PLEASE," Lisa begs, trying not to fall down as your cock pumps deep inside her. She opens her legs and moves them around, trying to get better support, but you just don't stop, grabbing her thigh and continuing to thrust like a madman. "OH MY GOD, IT'S SO GOOD," Lisa moans as your balls hit right at her clit.
You fuck Lisa so fast her head now uncontrollably hits the roof of the car. You lean her body against yours, pumping her pussy at a pearly gates position, her Thai pussy just getting used by your big white cock. "FUCKKKKK, AHHHHHH, YOUR COCK IS SO GOOD," Lisa screams, getting out of breath as you just can't stop leveling her cunt. "OH YES, OH YES, OH YES," Lisa says as your cock hits her cervix constantly, you push her up, and her head hammers the roof once again.
You pull out of Lisa and pick up one of the folded seats of the van, pushing it back up. Lisa sits on it and spreads her long legs. You dive to eat the pussy you just obliterated for long minutes, licking her wet and used-up folds. "Looks like my big cock wrecked it good," you say to her.
"And I want it to wreck it again, uhhhh, ahhhhh," she tells you, interrupting herself with moans as your licking is too good for her to resist. You don't need much to put her on the verge of orgasm, as her pussy is already throbbing after so much pounding, and soon Lisa's long legs start shaking.
"Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhhh, ohhh yeah, eat my pussy good" she moans as you tongue her folds. You kiss Lisa's pussy and move into thumbing her anus. "Hmmm, it's so tight, I wonder if my cock can fit in it," you say. "I guess you should try it, baby," she replies.
But first, you have to get your cock a bit slicker to slide on Lisa's sexy ass, giving a few pumps to her pussy instead as her wet folds lube up your shaft. You grab Lisa's leg and fuck her sideways, pinning her against the seat of the van. "Oh my God, oh my God, ahhhhh," Lisa moans.
You finally switch to fuck Lisa's ass, but your cock is so massive you struggle to get in at first. Lisa gasps with just your tip inside. "It's too fucking big for my tiny little ass," she moans. "Well, let's see," you reply.
You thrust your cock against Lisa's ass, her now coping with her butthole getting stretched out by fingering herself. "FUCK THAT ASS, YEAH," she moans. "God damn it, why do you have to be so big?" she asks as your cock digs deeper and deeper.
"Keep going; I need you all the way deep in my fucking ass, uh huh, uh huh," Lisa says as your cock slowly disappears inside it. You twist your fingers inside Lisa's pussy while your cock stays buried inside her asshole, making her scream even further. From time to time, you switch to her pussy to get some extra lube from her juices onto your cock.
Lisa's legs are so long the fingers in her right foot are now what's hitting the roof of the car while you keep fucking her ass. She opens her legs further, hitting the glass that separates the backseat of the van from the cabin. "DON'T STOP FUCKING MY ASS, PLEASE," she begs.
And who said you ever planned to stop? You push the pace and the depth of your cock inside her butt, rubbing your hands against Lisa's little tits as well while she moans like a good slut. You started choking her. "I love that baby, getting shocked while you fuck me in the ass; keep going," she says.
"Come here, let's try a different position, get on your knees, slut," you say to Lisa, who follows your orders, getting herself on all fours and clinging to the backseat of the van as you stay fucking her ass this time from behind. "AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, OH YEAH, FUCK FUCK FUCK," she moans hard as your cock stretches her tight butthole out while your big hands reach to keep choking her.
"What the FUCK FUCK FUCK," Lisa says as you suddenly change the pace, grabbing her waist and giving her ass fast and hard poundings. "Fuck, I love stretching your tiny little ass, Lisa; your cute, sexy butt looks so good with my cock deep inside it," you say to her.
You stay grabbing Lisa's waist, not letting her get out of your grasp at any second as you fuck her ass. "YEAH FUCK THAT ASS, YEAH, OH MY GOD," she moans. You grab her arms from behind and thrust hard up her butt, using the motion of the van in your favor. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO GOOD IN MY ASS," she says.
"Spread those legs wide," you command to Lisa, enjoying the way your cock just disappears inside her tight butthole. You then slide Lisa's body on the car's floor. "Wow," she says, as you get ready to get on top of her and pound her tasty ass even harder.
"Get that ass all the way up," you tell Lisa, who obliges, gaping her tight butthole as you slide inside it at a prone bone position. Lisa spreads her ass, trying to ease off the pressure of her tight hole, but it's to no avail; you just pound her relentlessly. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, OHHHHH, IT'S SO GOOOD," Lisa moans as you stretch her tight asshole hard, hitting her in the face and mounting on top of her like a raging bull, your hips clapping hard against her cheeks.
"OHHH, DON'T STOP BABY," Lisa begs as you impose on her a hard anal destruction; her body shakes with the insensity of your fucking. Your big white cock sends her to the heavens in a way her boyfriend's never could. She moans like a good whore, pleading to God. 
"Are you ready for that cum?" you ask her. "OH YEAH, BABY, I'M MORE THAN READY, OHHHHHHH," Lisa answers as you grab her waist and push your cock deeper and deeper in her ass. "Shit, Lalisa, your butthole is too tight; you're going to make me cum at any second," you say to her, clapping her cheeks hard.
"FUCK YEAH, GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE ME THAT CUM," Lisa begs. "Then come here, get that ass up," you tell her, pulling out of Lisa and jerking your cock off until your seeds coat her sexy butt. You pick your phone up and take a picture of Lisa's cum-covered ass, giving it a little taps aftwards. " "Send it to Fred," you tell her.
Lisa messages her boyfriend as you stay starting at her butt and appreciating your white sperm all over it. You enjoy looking at her body, but one of the guys on the cabin suddenly interrupts you.
"Bro, we need to pee," he tells you.
"Alright, let's find someplace," you say to him.
"We are too far from the city; we'll need to pee at those woods," he replies.
"Wait, I think I have a better plan; stop the van," you answer him.
You slide the van's door open and bring a completely naked Lisa to the outside. It's freezing cold out there, but your cock is still throbbing. "Guys, I think I found the perfect place for us to pee," you tell them.
The three big white cocks start bursting hot piss all over Lisa's sexy body. To their surprise, she fully embraces it, opening her mouth when the pee gets close to it and loving the way you guys turn her into a walking urinal and cover her entire body full of that dirty liquid.
"Wow, that's so hot," Lisa says after you three finish pissing on her.
"Glad you liked," you say to her.
"Bro, looks like Fred paid the rescue money; should we just leave her there and tell him the location?" one dude asks.
You look at an abandoned cabin hidden in the woods and sense Lisa is still horny and wants more.
"I think we can wait until dawn; let's fuck that bitch airtight at the cabin first," you say.
"Done deal."
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textmel8r · 6 months ago
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[ DRABBLE + SMAU ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( seventh installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.
୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro
୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , masturbation , angst , profanity , descriptions of violence , toji being a pathetic little sicko :D
୨୧˚ an; sorry this part is on the shorter side😅😅 it’s more of a filler chapter but i still like it!
It’s well past midnight when Toji slips his way back into his motel room. It’s dingy and drab, the once-white walls twinged a sickly yellowish tint from chain smoking guests. Ugly bedspread details different flowers that Toji couldn’t name, the same aged pattern clinging to the drapes that were pulled shut over the front window, never to be opened. It smells of heady sweat and open wounds, though maybe that’s just him. No, it definitely is him. He’s hyper aware of the grimy layer of filth that acts as a second layer of skin. It’s gritty and uncomfortable.
The bathroom cubicle is claustrophobic; if Toji were to stand in the center of the room, he could easily touch all four walls that boxed him in. He sits on the closed toilet seat lid, staring at his hands. They’re huge, intimidating. Trembling, spattered in blood that’s long since crusted into a dark concretion, cracking at the hinges of his fingers. His hands that took the lives of two innocent men just hours prior. Toji didn’t want to kill them, but they wouldn’t cooperate. Oh, how they shrieked and hollered for their lives as he dragged them into that alley. They just kept fucking screaming. 
“Fuck…” The man sighs grimly, letting his head dip forward to rest in the cups of his filthy palms. His bangs feel matted and crunchy with remnants of sweat. Disgusting self-pity blooms at the base of his hollow chest, and suddenly Toji has the urge to ram his skull into the drywall. Or dislocate his finger. Or do anything to punish himself for that feeling of defeatism. The nerve to possess such a shameful victim mentality, as if he deserved sympathy. He’s a killer; the best he deserves is a fucking electric chair.
Toji showers. A long, scalding shower that singes him to the bone. Water stained red cascades down the rippling wall of muscles that was his body and swirls down the rusty drain. These post-slaughter showers used to be blank canvases of his life. Ones where Toji’s brain would shut off and try to forget the atrocities committed by his hand. He would scrub his flesh raw, scrub scrub scrub mindlessly until he ached all over. But now, he only thinks of one thing.
You.
Maybe it’s some sick coping mechanism, turning to thoughts of you in times like these. In a pathetic form of self comfort, he reminisces. Your hands holding his face, your know-it-all smile, your way with words. God, your fucking way with words. 
“My sweet boy,” Toji whispers under his breath, touching himself. As if he could replicate the delicate way in which you spoke to him. His eyes shut, desperately clinging onto the mental image of you beneath him in his bed. Your arms outstretched, reaching for him like you want him. Like you love him. “My sweet…” Toji tries to fade into the warmth of the spray, imagining it to be your body heat encapsulating him instead. But the water is far too hot, it hurts; you wouldn’t hurt him like this. He tries so damn hard to disassociate into the pleasure, as if his hand would magically dissolve into yours. Yeah, right. His hand is too big to ever compete with yours. Too fucking rough and gritty and mean.
The flat of his palm finds the greasy tiles of the shower wall. Toji fucks himself with all the roughness he deserves, lower lip staked between two rows of teeth to cease its quivering. He’s going to cum. Your face appears in his psyche once more, but this time, it’s from the first time you visited him in the hospital all those months ago. He can see the picture so vividly, it scares him: you seated at his bedside, poking and prodding over his obliques, muttering a stream of concerned questions. But you were never upset or angry. No, despite the worries, you were still smiling. At him. 
Fuck, he’s really going to cum.
Toji grits his teeth, climaxing with a harsh shudder and a broken gasp of your name on his lips. Small jolts force him into a twitchy state, and he leans forward to rest his forehead against the tiles beside his hand. Semen paints the wall below, too far to the left for the shower spray to rinse it off. He doesn’t bother to clean it off. He’s too repulsed by himself to do much of anything. 
The plasticky sheets stick to his skin. Sleeping in just a pair of boxers was probably a stupid idea, bed mites were a real cause for concern, or so Shiu had told him. But it’s hot. He’s hot. And restless. And uncomfortable. He always had trouble falling asleep in foreign beds. Lidded eyes peek over to the alarm clock perched on the side table, its cherry digits splaying 2:47am. You were asleep. 
He reaches for his phone anyway, wracked with guilt all the while. The tension in his thighs still persisted, still succumbed to the aftershocks of his orgasm he fucked himself to with your face in his mind. He’s fucking gross. This is gross.
She’s sleeping, jackass. Don’t wake her up because you’re lonely.
Be a fucking man and lick your own wounds. That’s what his father would say.
He texts you anyway.
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He presses the call button. It only gets through half a ring before the line cuts on and he hears a groggy “hey” filter through the receiver. How long has it been since he’s heard your voice? Not that long, only three days and yet it feels like it's been three lifetimes. And that’s truly the moment when Toji knows you’ve fucked him for life, because when did he start thinking such sappy shit like that?
“Hi,” he answers, melting back into the stiff mattress. His gaze wanders along the waterlogged ceiling, tracing the abstract damp stains that have settled in its popcorn surface. He thinks offhandedly that one of them vaguely resembles a rabbit. “Sorry for waking you.”
“You already apologized, silly. I told you it’s okay.” There’s a pause. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”
It’s nice to hear yours, too. “Go to sleep.” 
“Yeah, okay.” The sound of sheets stirring crackles, Toji assumes you’re tossing in bed. “You’re sleeping now, too, right?”
He paws at his stomach, the pads of his rough fingertips tracing the gutters of his abdominal plates before he sinks his blunt nails into his own flesh. “In a bit.”
“Soon. It’s late, Toji.” You order him to bed like a mother would her child.
He nods as if you could see the gesture. “Soon, then.”
You bid him a good night, turning once more into bed before settling back into the depths of the slumber Toji had interrupted. He clasps his cell between his ear and shoulder, basking in your gentle breaths. It’s the same sounds you made the night you fucked him. He slept upon your chest, head over your heart, listening to its beats. You drooled on his pillow, he gave a quiet scoff at the memory. Are you drooling now?
Toji never sleeps.
likes and reblogs are appreciated !
tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0semultiverse @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni @taelattecookie @purple-obsidian @hqtoge @khaothick @saintkaylaa @ya9amicide @crayzyaarna @saiki-enthusiast @haesify @nyamocka @sixxze @lifesucksweswallow @darkstarlight82 @megumisdivinedogs @celestialol @yunho-leeknow @ghostfacefricker6969 @aizawa19 @lupicalbestwolf @nymphsdomain @makuzume
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y3sterdaysproblem · 3 days ago
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smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo
chapter six part two
summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.
{enemies to lovers, fake dating}
includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn
wc: 5.4k
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You guys stood a few feet apart for a few moments, your body further into the room than him, his feet inches from the door. Your eyes flitted to the counter quickly, noticing a basket of complimentary alcohol. You instantly moved towards it and grabbed two shooters, throwing one towards Chris. “One more for good measure,” you joke, but you both quickly crack them open and swallow them with a grimace.
Chris throws his empty bottle on the floor and walks towards you determinedly, leaning down as he approached you to scoop you up with his hands under your ass. Your legs instantly wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, lips colliding harshly.
He walks a few more steps and plants you on the desk connected to the wall, not at all concerned about the creak you both heard. The only thing you guys cared about was the lust rushing through your veins.
As you kissed, articles of clothing started to come off. First, his suit jacket, then your shoes, then his shoes, then his tie was ripped off and thrown across the room, until you guys were only left in one layer each, and that somehow made this all feel even more real.
“Are you sure?” Chris clarifies again, his hands resting on the top of the zipper on your back, and all you had to do was nod before he started to pull it down, sliding you off of the desk to let it fall off of you.
You stood up on your now bare feet, slipping the straps off of your shoulders and allowing your dress to slide off of you and pool at your feet on the ground, left in only your underwear as you didn’t wear a bra with the dress. Chris’s breath hitched in his throat as he took in the sight of your nearly naked body, his dick twitching in his pants. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, putting his hands to use as he unbuttons his dress shirt, sliding it off as quickly as he could.
He steps back to you and wraps his arms around you, fingers exploring your back as you looked down to work on the button on his pants, quickly popping it open and shoving them down, leaving you both in just your underwear.
“Chris,” you whine, looking back up at him, your hands palming him through his boxers. He groans, his own hands sliding down to your ass.
“Hmm?” He hums, trying to focus on the fact that you were speaking.
“Bed, please?”
Chris shoves your hand away and picks you up again, dropping you back on the desk. He leans down and wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth enthusiastically. His right hand dips back to your underwear, pulling it to the side easily as it was a thong and already pretty thin. His middle and ring finger glided through your soaked slit, making you whimper and roll your head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. “Bed is boring,” he mutters, kissing up your chest until he reaches your face again. “Bed is last.”
You cry out and arch your back towards him as his fingers slip inside of you with ease. “Oh my god, you sound so fucking good. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you like this, to make you sound like this.” Chris praises you, just like he had promised you on that date. The same comment that had sent your thoughts into a spiral.
“Chris!” You cried out as his fingers curled inside of you, thumb brushing over your clit simultaneously.
“Yeah, baby?” He coos, placing a soft kiss on your chin. “What’s on your mind?”
Your pick your head up off the wall and turn to look back down at him, your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as his fingers worked inside of you, your arms holding yourself up starting to become weak and shaky. “You. You’re on my mind, clearly you’re on my fucking mind,” you groan, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Fuck, I want you to make me cum so bad.”
Chris only smiles back at you, using his thumb a bit more as he fingered you, causing you to cry out. “Don’t worry, you’ll never want anyone else to make you cum after this.”
“You’re cocky,” you huff out, trying to hide the moan that slipped from your lips.
Chris laughs, pausing his fingers inside of you. “I’m good at what I do.”
You groan, reaching down to grab his wrist, trying to guide him to keep his fingers moving. “Come on.”
Chris furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. “What?” He asks. “What do you want?”
“Don’t tease me,” you try to demand, but it comes out soft and whiny.
“I’m not teasing you, baby, tell me what you want.” Chris’s left hand strokes up and down your leg as you share this exchange, his touch seemingly lighting your skin on fire.
“Chris!” You huff in aggravation. “You want me to beg for it? Fine, I’ll fucking beg for it. I need you, Chris. I need you to finger me, to eat me out, to fuck me, to do whatever the fuck you want with me for the rest of the fucking night. I need you so bad it physically hurts right now. I’m so desperate and horny that I feel like I could cum just from looking at your dick so please stop teasing me and fuck me until I’m crying, please.”
You’re almost out of breath when you’re done speaking, sucking air in quickly as you finish. Chris’s eyes darken at the permission to do whatever he pleased, knowing in his head you’ve just consented to the best sex either of you have ever had. “Coulda started with that,” he teases before slipping a third finger inside of you, making you cry out.
His fingers pump inside of you quickly, your body starting to shake from the pleasure. It’s been so long since you’ve had sex that it doesn’t take you long to start feeling your first orgasm crawling up inside you, your eyes clenched shut tightly as you focused only on the fingers buried deep inside of you, pressing everywhere you needed them.
“Chris,” you moan, a hand aggressively reaching out to grip onto his bicep, nails digging into the back of his arm. “Chris, I’m… fuck, I’m-.” You cut yourself off, legs trying to clench as the band in your stomach snaps, head falling back against the wall behind you as he coaxes you through your orgasm, lips coming down to press onto your neck, sucking a purple mark on the soft skin.
Your moans slow as his fingers slow inside you, pulling them out once you’ve come down, making you twitch lightly. You’re breathing heavily as you open your eyes and bring them to Chris’s as he pulls away from your neck, his own eyes falling down to where a long, sticky string of arousal connected your core and his fingers, completely fascinated by how wet you were.
He looks up into your eyes and smirks, breaking the silence. “You’re pretty wet for someone you hate. Can’t imagine how wet you get for someone you actually like.”
You roll your eyes and punch him in the chest lightly. “Shut the fuck up about how wet I am, I’m sure you have the worst blue balls of your life right now.”
Chris laughs, using his hand to slap down at your swollen clit, making you gasp and jump, clearly overstimulated. “Yeah, it actually kind of hurts but it’s so worth it to hear you like that just for my fingers.”
You push his hand away from you and stand up off the table, ignoring how shaky your knees were. You loop your fingers through your panties and slide them down, grimacing at how soaked they were. You definitely wouldn’t be able to wear those tomorrow morning on the way home.
You’re both standing in front of each other now, you completely naked and Chris in his underwear, dick clearly straining against the fabric. Your hand reaches out and starts to palm him, causing him to moan out quietly, feeling the first bit of relief for himself since the first kiss outside. “Fuck,” he groans, his head falling onto your shoulder. “Want you so bad.”
You thread your free hand through his hair, tilting your head down to face him as your hand stroked him over his boxers. “You’ve got me,” you tell him in a whisper. “You can have me however you want.”
Chris picks his head up and connects your lips again, sliding his tongue against yours sensually as his hand comes up to rest on your jaw. He’s moaning into your mouth, damn near whimpering and it’s making you even wetter than before if that was even possible. He’s got you weak in the knees in more ways than one and you aren’t complaining a single bit.
You pull away from the kiss first, using both hands to slide his boxers down his legs, finally locking eyes on his rock hard length, a shiver making its way down your spine. “Holy fuck, Chris,” you whisper, and he just laughs.
“What?” He teases.
“You know what,” you tell him, looking up at his eyes that sparkled even in the dimly lit hotel room. “Go sit on the couch.”
He listens, turning around and walking to the couch with a bit more excitement than he usually would, plopping down on it with his legs spread, ready for whatever you wanted him for. You walked over slowly, eyeing him up and down where he was sat on the couch until you were directly in front of him. He had no idea where you were going with this and the thought of you having your own plan was exhilarating to him.
You shot a smile his way before sinking to your knees in front of him, hand reaching out to grab his dick and start stroking it, pulling small moans from his lips as you did so. You lean down, keeping eye contact with him, but don’t let your lips touch him quite yet.
“Tell me, Chris,” you say quietly. “Tell me how long you’ve wanted to get me like this. How long you’ve wanted to see me on my knees for you.”
Chris’s jaw is slack as he stares at you running your closed fist up and down his dick, heart pounding in his chest. “I-I don’t know, a really long time,” he whines out. “Fuck, you’re lucky I’m drunk otherwise I wouldn’t last at all, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
You giggle, leaning down to lick a strip from the base of his dick up to his tip, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking lightly before popping your lips off, pulling away again. “Not good enough. Tell me how long.” You demand, pulling your hand away completely and resting it on his thigh.
Chris groans at the lack of contact. “Since we were like eighteen! I can’t sleep with anyone without imagining what it would be like with you. I think about you when I get myself off. Every time I see you at my house I just want to bend you over the table and fuck you right then and there. It’s why I can’t be alone with you, because every time we’re alone and you’re just sitting there I just think about taking you wherever we are. You’ve had me wrapped around your finger for fucking years and you’ve had no idea, which is why I’m so desperate right now for something, anything, I just need you.”
You’re pretty sure the insides of your thighs were slippery at this point, completely coated in your arousal, not only from the orgasm but just from Chris’s words. He was so desperate for you and it was the hottest thing you had ever seen. It was enough for you to bring your hand back to the base of his dick and lean in, wrapping your lips around him and taking the first few inches, moaning when the taste of his precum hit your tongue. Chris’s hand instinctively went up and tangled in the back of your hair, wanting to push you down farther but resisting.
“Fuck,” he moaned, head lolling back onto the back of the couch and eyes fluttering shut. He focused on his hand in your hair, the way your head was bobbing up and down and your tongue where it was flattened on the bottom of his cock. It was all so overwhelming and he couldn’t believe it was finally happening after all of his fantasies. Though he was drunk, the fact that it was you overpowered his normal ability to last for what seemed like forever, his orgasm coiling in his stomach. “You’re so good, I’m- shit- gonna-.” Chris couldn’t even complete a full sentence and you knew what that meant, pulling your lips off of him completely.
You started to pump his full length with your hand, staring straight up at him. “Look at me,” you tell him and he picks his head up, eyes heavy as he looks down at you, mouth open as moans and whines leave his lips.
You’re not stroking him for long when he finally lets out a loud moan and shoots ropes of cum on his own chest, hips twitching and stomach tensing as he came. You smile at him and slow down, removing your hand once he’s finished, moving your eyes to look at his torso where his cum had been spread out, slowly dripping down his skin. “You look so good like that,” you whisper, bringing your hand that was coated in his semen to your lips, sucking off between your pointer finger and thumb while keeping eye contact with him. “Shame we didn’t do this earlier.”
Chris just watches you in awe, unable to say anything at the moment, too caught up in how sexy you looked. You just laugh at his silence and slowly rise to your feet before straddling him on the couch, sitting comfortably on his thighs. You lean down and lick a stripe up his chest, collecting more cum on your tongue, then bring your lips to his to kiss him again, cum slipping past your lips as your tongues danced together, causing Chris to moan at the taste.
He’d never had a girl do something like that before, but he thinks he would find literally anything you did hot, so he wasn’t even grossed out when he swallowed some of his own load, hands reaching down to grip at your bare ass, pulling you closer. Your hands rested on his cheeks and your hips started to grind against him, causing you to whimper out small moans of pleasure.
He noticed this and slipped one hand between you guys, grabbing his cock that was hard again, not sure if he even went soft after that orgasm, guiding your hips up with his free hand. Once you lifted your hips enough he positioned his dick at your entrance, ready for you to drop down on top of him and finally cross that line that he’d fantasized about for what felt like forever.
It was better than he’d ever imagined it when you finally sunk down and bottomed out, moaning into his mouth as you did so. “Shit, Chris,” you whine, pulling your face away from his. “You’re so big, feels so good.”
Chris planted both hands on either one of your hips, looking up into your eyes that stared down at him. “You feel incredible. I could stay like this forever.”
You couldn’t help but smile at him, placing a small, gentle kiss on his lips before pulling away and lifting your hips up, crying out as you drop back down again. You felt so full with Chris inside you like this and it was no doubt the best sexual encounter you’d ever had, and it was barely starting. “Chris,” you mewl, hips keeping a steady pace bouncing on top of him, his hands helping guide you so you weren’t too exhausted.
Your forearms were rested on his shoulders, using them for leverage slightly as your hips slammed against his repeatedly, the only sounds filling the room being the sounds of your bodies colliding and both of you breathing heavily. “Chris, I’m gonna cum again like this,” you whine out, the muscles in your thighs getting tired and your bouncing getting sloppy.
Chris wanted nothing more than to watch you fall apart again, but not like this, not yet. He looped his arms around your back and leaned you backwards until you were laid out on the coffee table in front of the couch, your ass barely on the wood and your legs hanging off. He moved his hands to the underside of your thighs and pushed them back, pulling out of you and dropping down to the floor on his knees. “What are you doing?” You question, propped up on your elbows to watch him. He doesn’t answer, only drops his head down and latches his mouth onto your pussy, tongue connecting with your swollen, sensitive clit, causing you to cry out and drop your head back.
He easily slips three fingers inside of you, curling them expertly, and the feeling of him eating you out and fingering you had you shaking almost immediately, legs twitching against his head. “Chris!” You moan, dropping your elbows out from underneath you and reaching down to grip his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. He moans against your clit and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge again, a chorus of moans and whines leaving your lips as he fucks you through your orgasm once again.
Only this time, he didn’t stop or let up, he only pulled his fingers from you and wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you even closer to his mouth if that was possible. You were no doubt crying at this point, tears dripping down your face as he continued to eat you out. “T-too much!” You tell him, but he didn’t let up, and you didn’t push him away, and it took no more than thirty seconds of him overstimulating you with his tongue to cum again, your head hanging off the coffee table and your jaw slack, completely silent as your body shook.
You finally sucked in a deep breath as he pulled away from you, kissing up your thighs as he looked down towards your completely spent body, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Eventually, you pick your head up and lift yourself back onto your elbows, looking down at Chris where he smirked at you from between your legs. “I almost passed out,” you huff.
Chris just laughs and stands up, helping you to your feet, his arms wrapped around your back to hold you up since you were too shaky to stand on your own. “I would’ve kept going even if you passed out.”
Your eyes widen at his words. “That’s fucked!” You say, but you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. He just smiles at you before shoving you forward on the couch, causing a squeal to leave your lips. Your knees land on the cushions and your hands on the back of the couch, looking behind you to watch Chris step up behind you.
He places one hand on your hip and the other on his dick to line it up with your entrance, and you smirk to yourself as you press against him, arching your back for him. “You’re going to ruin me for anyone else,” you tell him, and it sounds like a joke, but you’re pretty sure it’s a hundred percent true.
Chris smiles and leans to press a kiss into your shoulder. “That’s the goal.”
He presses in and bottoms out in one go, making you gasp. You’d already had him inside you once, but the change in angle had you seeing black spots in your vision. “Fuck,” you whimper, placing a hand on the wall to brace yourself a bit from the harsh thrusts he was delivering, sending your body forward every time.
“You feel so fucking good,” Chris groans, both hands placed on your hips as he watches your ass bounce back every time he pounds into you, the sight of that and your pussy swallowing him whole making him lightheaded. “You’re so perfect, taking me so well. S’like you were made for me,” he slurs.
You couldn’t even speak at this point, too fucked out and overstimulated to be able to think about choking anything out, the only thing leaving your lips being a string of moans and whimpers, and maybe a little bit of drool from your mouth hanging open.
Chris’s hand slides up your back as he continues fucking you seemingly as hard as he can, grabbing your hair and creating a makeshift ponytail, pulling your head backwards, causing you to arch your back more. “This pussy was made for me, huh? Made just for me, for my cock only. Got you fucking speechless.” He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, not only drunk off of all the alcohol you both had consumed, but drunk off of you. The way you smelled, the way you tasted, the way you felt gripping around his dick with your pussy. It was making him fucking delirious.
You used your left hand to hold yourself on the wall, your right hand coming down to rub back and forth on your clit, the feeling of your hand and Chris inside you triggering your tears once more, unable to hold back the way your body shook with a loud cry. “Fuck!” You yell out, feeling yet another orgasm bubbling up inside of you. No one’s ever made you cum this much in one night. You didn’t even think you’d made yourself cum this much in one night.
“Chris, don’t stop,” you breathe out, fingers still rapidly moving back and forth on your core, thighs shaking. “I’m so close, please, you feel so good inside me, don’t stop, fuck,” a string of profanities spilled from your mouth, not really making much sense as Chris turned you into a blubbering mess.
“That’s it, baby, cum all over my cock, I got you,” Chris coos, voice a stark difference from the way he was dominating you, dick feeling like it was about to split you in two from how hard he was thrusting and pulling your hips back to meet him. You happily listened, nearly screaming into the couch as you touched yourself through your orgasm, lurching your hips forward and away from Chris as you felt something you’ve never felt with a partner, only ever with yourself before. You cried out as you came, the sound of a small stream coming from between your legs as you squirted onto the couch and your fingers, your release dripping down your legs.
Chris’s eyes widened as he watched you shake, coming down from your intense orgasm. “Holy shit,” he muttered, to which you only whimpered, dipping two of your fingers inside yourself to coax a little bit more liquid out, pulling your fingers out and spreading your lips apart as you squirted a bit more.
“Chris…” you whine, turning your head to look at him, seeing him staring down at your completely drenched pussy and thighs, watching as the liquid dripped down your legs and into the couch. “I’m sorry, that’s never happened with anyone before, normally it just happens when I’m by myself.”
Chris reaches forward again and grabs your body, helping you turn around so you’re sitting on the couch, finally relaxing and not holding yourself up. “Why are you apologizing?” He asks, breathless just from the sight of you. “That was… the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You blush, looking away from his eyes, but he just sits next to you and grabs your jaw in his hand, turning your head to face him. “I’m serious. Don’t get all shy on me now.”
You giggle a bit and move your body, swinging your leg over his lap once more, taking up the same position you guys were in earlier. “Chris?” You start quietly.
He hums in response, moving his hand from your face and sliding them both down your body. On your waist, your hips, your thighs, finally reaching around and resting on your ass. “Yeah, baby?”
You smile at his words, lifting your hips and grabbing his dick, dropping yourself back down onto it, causing him to let out a small hiss as your hips landed on top of his. “I want you to cum inside me. Please.”
Chris brings his eyes up to yours, and in that moment you know you’ve got him wrapped completely around your finger. He’d do absolutely anything you’d ask him. You could’ve asked him to nose dive out the window and he’d do it just because you asked him. He was completely and utterly whipped just after one taste of you, and he couldn’t even complain. He lets out a small breath of air, clearly struggling to breathe at your words. “Anything,” he whispers. “I’d do anything for you.”
Chris stands up and takes you with him, walking you both over to the bed where he tosses you down, still inside you. He’s standing next to the bed and you’re laid on it, legs hanging off as he hovers above you. He grabs your legs and puts one on each shoulder before resting his hands on the tops of your thighs, starting to thrust into you again.
You’ve felt his dick at so many different angles tonight, each one better than the last, and this one was no different. Maybe it was the eye contact, or the words he had spoken to you seconds prior, or maybe it really was just the position you guys were in, him leaning over you and pushing your legs back as he fucked into you, you had no idea, but the way you looked up at him and he looked down at you it felt like you were the only two people in the world, and that feeling absolutely terrified you.
It didn’t take Chris long until his hips were stuttering and his moans grew louder, signaling he was close. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or if all this dick was getting to your head but you moved your legs to wrap around his waist and reached up to cup his jaw, sitting up on one elbow and pulling him down to meet you, pressing your lips against his firmly, but still someone sweetly. You both parted your lips as you kissed passionately, his hips coming to a stop as he completely sheathed himself inside of you, whimpering quietly into your mouth as he came, shooting long, hot ropes of cum deep inside you.
You stroked his jaw with your thumb as he came down, pulling away and placing a final kiss on his lips, both of you just staring into each others’ eyes for a few moments, not saying a word.
You were the first to speak, giggling a bit before you did so. “What the fuck?”
Chris laughs in response, nodding his head. “Exactly my thoughts.”
-
The two of you were laid in bed, Chris on his back and you on your side, head resting on his chest as his hand that was wrapped around you trailed up and down your arm, the room completely silent apart from your breathing. You hadn’t said much after you two had finished, only moving to grab one of the hotel towels to clean up between your legs as much as you could before the two of you crawled into bed under the sheets, still completely naked, room only lit up by one lamp in the corner by the desk.
You had so much you wanted to say, so many questions to ask, but you didn’t know how, and you had no idea Chris’s mind was filled with the exact same turmoil, wanting to speak but afraid to ruin the moment.
He had to, though. He had to tell you his true feelings.
Sucking in a deep but quiet breath, he began to speak. “Sophomore year,” he started quietly. “I wanted to tell you how I felt. I had finally worked up the courage to tell you, to tell my brothers, that I had feelings for you. That I wanted to date you. I was so young but I was so sure that I wanted you. I thought you were so pretty the first time I met you at lunch freshman year but I never could get the confidence to tell you. So… I waited until I was brave enough, and I went to find you at school. I couldn’t find you anywhere and I thought maybe you had left already, even though I was pretty sure you were going to walk home with us that day, so I almost gave up and told myself to do it the next day. I decided to look one more time, and I looked everywhere. Then I found you under the bleachers kissing that fucking asshole loser Theo Mason and… my heart fucking shattered. I realized in that moment that I had waited too long and you had no idea how I felt. I was so mad at myself for thinking you’d like me back and it was that moment that made me want to hate you. So I pretended to. I thought that hating you would be easier than dealing with my real feelings. That’s also why I got so mad at dinner last week. His name just… brought up so many bad memories and the fact that he was flirting with you right in front of me and you were clearly into him and the way you said you liked his name, I-fuck.” Chris’s voice cracked, his heart pounding in his chest and he poured out all of his feelings for the first time, to anybody. “It hurt and I felt like a little kid getting rejected all over again.”
You let Chris speak, not wanting to interrupt him or scare him away. You had no idea of any of this, and his confession and raw feelings brought made your eyes water, a fat tear rolling and landing on his chest. You felt terrible that he had been feeling this way all these years and that you were completely clueless. It wasn’t your fault, you had no idea, but it just made you so sad that this all could’ve been avoided with a simple conversation.
You assumed Chris had finished, so you picked your head up and propped yourself up to stare down at him, bringing your other hand up to his cheek to caress it softly. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, making Chris shake his head.
“You didn’t know,” he responds, just as quietly. “It’s my fault.”
You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, pulling away slowly. “I liked you, too.” You tell him, almost sadly. “I thought there was no way you liked me back so when he asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend and kiss after school I agreed. I never knew you were there, Chris, I would’ve chosen you in a heartbeat.”
Chris sighs, rubbing your back softly as he listened to you. “I’m sorry for treating you like shit all these years. I thought hating you would be easier than loving you and even after all this time I still just want you so bad.”
You smile down at Chris, eyes sparkling as you looked at him. You felt like for the first time you were seeing Chris for who he really was, seeing the man his brothers saw and loved, seeing the little boy his mom still saw when she looked at him. You didn’t see the person that stared at you in disgust, you saw the person whose eyes softened every time you looked away from him. You saw the person who stole as many glances your way as he could. You saw a man that seemed perfect for you, and you wanted nothing more than to try with him, to give you and him a chance.
“You’ve got me,” you tell him. “However you want me, I’m yours.”
-
a/n: thanks for waiting {: I hope it was worth it.
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andypantsx3 · 8 months ago
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𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4
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Then
It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.
You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.
After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.
He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.
That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.
You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.
You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.
You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?
“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”
“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”
The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.
She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.
“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.
As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.
“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.
Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.
He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.
“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.
Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”
Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.
“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.
“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.
“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.
Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.
“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.
You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.
“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.
His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.
“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.
You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.
Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.
By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”
“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.
“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.
Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.
“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.
That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.
Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.
A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”
A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.
You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”
Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.
And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.
You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.
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Now
Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.
Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.
Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.
You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.
“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.
“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.
“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”
That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.
“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.
Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.
“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.
The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.
“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”
“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.
“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”
Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.
“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.
But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.
The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.
You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.
Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.
Purportedly.
“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”
You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”
“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.
You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.
And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.
The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.
“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”
Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.
On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”
You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”
Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”
You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.
“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”
Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.
“Wow, good for him,” you said.
“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”
And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.
Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.
And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.
Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.
Yeah. He was most probably an omega.
“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.
Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.
“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.
You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.
When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.
The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.
Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.
The house said otherwise.
Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.
“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.
Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.
You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.
You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.
Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.
“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.
“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.
“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.
“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.
“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.
“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.
It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?
You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.
That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?
Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.
You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.
No. No fucking way.
Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.
An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.
Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”
He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”
You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.
“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.
“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”
Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.
“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.
“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.
“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.
Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”
You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.
“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”
Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.
“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”
“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”
“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.
You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.
You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”
Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”
You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”
“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.
Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.
“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”
Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”
“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”
“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.
Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.
You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”
“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.
“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.
You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.
“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.
You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.
“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.
Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.
Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.
You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”
Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”
A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.
“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.
But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.
The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.
And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.
You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.
After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.
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igotanidea · 9 months ago
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Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader
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A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)
part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
***
One year ago
„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”
“What irrational thoughts?”
“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”
“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—
“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”
“But-“
“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”
“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”
“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”
“There is no possibility that I-“
“Hush!”
“Mother I –“
“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.
“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”
“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”
“I will not!”
“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”
“Commitments!?”
“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”
“Mother!”
“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”
***
The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.
It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.
However-
Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.
Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.
Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.
Getting burned with the tea in response.
Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.
For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.
Next few visits were no better.
Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.
“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”
She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.
“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”
“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”
“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”
“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”
“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.
“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”
“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.
“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”
“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”
“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”
“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.
“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”
“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”
“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”
***
Dearest gentle reader,
It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.
Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it. 
Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.
This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.
It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.
After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.
***
Now.
“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”
Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.
“What is so funny?”
“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”
“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.
“Seem like you do after all.”
“Y/N…”
“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.
“Y/N…”
“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“
“Don’t you finish that sentence.”
“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.
At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.
Being called too much, constantly.
Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.
And then meeting Anthony.
And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.
But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.
Too much.
Not enough.
And it made her angry.
“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”
“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”
“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.
“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.
“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.
 “I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”
And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.
Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.
Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.
next part (finale!) : Just right
@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall
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mountainsandmayhem · 1 month ago
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BDSMaid - Chapter 5 (Part One)
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Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.
Chapter Summary: You let Mister Miller help you out of a slump and learn you might like a little pain
WC: 8.9k
CW: Reader as some descriptors (freckles, long hair etc) so this might be more of an original character vs female reader. Dom/Sub dynamics, pet names (sweet girl, baby, baby girl etc). More CW in red below the cut but will contain spoilers.
AN: THANK YOU for being sooooo patient with me while I delayed this chapter. This is only HALF of the chapter and as soon as my lovely @lotusbxtch beta's the other half I will post it. No pressure thought, bb!! I just couldn't WAIT to share this since you've all been so wonderful and supportive. Moodboard by me, dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
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CW: riding crop, oral (male and female receiving), male masturbation, female orgasms, hand cuffs, deep throating/face fucking, descriptions of self doubt and panic attacks; reader is going through it, ok? Hair pulling, Joel is a bit mean but he does it with love and care. Joel being a consent and aftercare king.
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Joel
Joel sits on the Trocadéro platform of Café de l’Homme, the birds chirping and the sound of rustling papers keeping him from getting too lost in his thoughts of you. Sarah sits across from him, a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower to their left, and a buying agreement typed out in French taking up most of the table. Joel might not look like it, but he can see himself eventually living out his years in either Paris or Italy. He speaks enough French and Italian to get by, but relies on Sarah to read over the contract for her new condo. His baby girl is a doctor and now that she’s almost a year into her surgery residency, this condo is her graduation present finally coming to fruition. 
He looks down at his phone, opening the text thread he has with you. He’s been trying to give you space to study this week, telling himself each day that this isn’t what you signed up for but he can’t help himself, and when you responded with a selfie of yourself in your maid discreetly polo the other day he knew there was no way he’d be able to keep that pledge to himself anymore. Joel looks at the time, factoring in the time change, and your LSAT retake is in a few hours. His thumbs move on their own.
Good Morning. Good luck on your LSAT today.
He attaches a picture of the coffee he had that morning before hitting send. 
The waiter comes by to take their orders, Sarah’s French flowing from her lips as easily as she breathes, happily telling the waiter what both her and her dad will have. Joel mutters a ‘merci’ as the waiter nods. 
Thank you. That coffee looks a lot better than mine.
A selfie of you, all pink cheeked and smiling follows. A paper to go cup with a plastic lid in your hand beside your face. 
Were you running?
“How’s it going over there?” Joel says over his phone screen to Sarah, her focus is intent on the stack of papers in front of her. 
“Shh, I’m reading,” she says lightly as the waiter opens an expensive looking bottle of white wine and pours a little for her to try. After taking her small sip and nodding at the waiter she looks to her dad. “What? I thought we were celebrating!”
He shakes his head, laughing at his daughter as both of them look back at what they were doing.
Yes. I run most mornings. Gotta clear my head.
What’s bothering you, sweet girl?
You know, you calling me that has the same effect as me calling you Mister Miller.
Ok, we’ll just call each other by our names then.
Joel is so wrapped up in his little bubble with you that he doesn’t notice Sarah sitting back and watching him as she sips her wine.
That’s no fun, let’s come up with safe nicknames.
He feels the side of cheek tug up. She’s so fucking cute.
Alright, I’m calling you giggles
What am I, a rodeo clown?
Joel laughs silently to himself, not realizing that he’s sporting a full and cheesy ear to ear grin across his face. 
Fine - Freckles
Eww, that’s what the mean girls in high school used to call me
Well the hot, successful man who owns a sex club and supplies your orgasms finds your freckles incredibly sexy. What’s my safe nickname?
“Who are you texting?” Sarah says, her voice thick with amusement. 
Joel clicks his phone shut, laying it face down on the table. He wipes the smile off his face and looks up at Sarah like a child who just got caught stealing candy. “No one. Just work stuff.”
“Uh huh, sure dad. I know that smile. Did you meet someone?”
Joel grabs his wine, taking a larger drink then necessary. A drink of someone who’s lying. There’s no way he can tell his daughter about this. Sure, Sarah knows about the club but they never talk about what goes on there. “No! Of course not. I’m too busy for that.”
Her eyes blink to his phone as it vibrates on the table, but he keeps his attention on Sarah, his wine glass looking comically small in his large hand. “I’ll just ask uncle Tommy.”
“Funny story, he’s been removed from the family.” He deadpans.
“Tess will tell me then,” Sarah says, her and her dad both challenging each other jokingly.
“Who? Never heard of a Tess before,” Joel says, crossing his arms. 
Sarah laughs into her wine glass, “Ok dad. Look, I want you to meet someone, so don’t hold back on my account. Seriously, you’re a catch and have been alone for a long time.”
“I don’t want to talk about it with you, Sarah. Not yet at least.” His phone vibrates again and she cocks an eyebrow before going back to her papers.
Joel scoops up his phone to read your texts.
Huh, suddenly I’m over being bullied. Weird.  Oh, I have the peeerrrfect nickname for you!
Go on, Freckles…
Sweet Cheeks, cuz seriously Miller, dat ass. 
Daaaammmnn!
You’re treading on mighty thin ice, baby girl 
Joel, I have a serious question…
Go on?
Are your suit pants tailored TO your ass?!
Joel chokes on his wine, trying to stifle his laugh.
“Alright, who is she?”
“Fine. I met someone, but she’s really young, like younger than you, Sarah. And she’s leaving soon for law school so it’s just best if I don’t talk about it.”
Sarah smiles at her dad. “First of all, I don’t care if she’s younger than me, especially seeing you smile like that. Do you have any idea how many of the girls at college wanted you? You're my dad, so it’s gross to say, but you were the campus DILF.”
Joel feels himself blushing as she continues, “Second of all, you don’t have to end things just because of school. Me and Wyatt maintained our relationship while I was in New York and he was in Seattle.” As she wiggles the pear shaped diamond on her left hand the waiter brings out their food, and Joel changes the subject to the condo that he just bought for his incredible daughter. 
Our little girl did it, Tiff. Thank you for giving her to me, he thinks.
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You
“That’s time, everyone,” The proctor calls from the front of the stuffy, windowless room that you and forty five other law school hopefuls have been in for just over three hours. 
You let out a slow breath, cheeks puffing and eyes fluttering closed. You didn’t finish, last time you finished, and the proctor has been eyeing you the entire time. He knows, he fucking knows you aren’t nearly as qualified or as smart as the rest of the people in this room. That line from Gilmore Girls, something about having shiny Harvard hair is all your anxiety can focus on. The people in this room have Havard hair, even the men. You don’t belong here.
You’ve never been in a lower spot and after the high of the flirty text conversation with Joel this morning you didn’t anything could get you down. In the span of just a few hours you’ve been completely torn apart, you can feel the panic attack clawing greedily at your chest. You fucking blew it, all of it. You blew your chances at law school, you blew your future as a lawyer and, in turn, your future as a judge. You’ll be cleaning houses forever, and not that there’s anything wrong with being a professional maid, but it’s not your goal.
Maybe I was fucking stupid for only having one goal. Maybe I need to do something else with my degree. Maybe my father was right, I’m nothing and I’ll always be nothing. Maybe my mother was right too, I’m the smartest girl at home but the world is going to chew me up and spit me out. It’s doing that right now, isn’t it? 
Your feet take you to the locker where your phone’s been locked up, and then out to your car. You don’t notice the warm late March air when you leave the testing building and there's a good chance that you jay walked, narrowly missing being hit by a car as you walked to the parking lot. Before turning the key in the ignition you open your phone, there’s a little red bubble on the JMK app. When you tap on it you have a new calendar section and Joel has invited you to the club tomorrow night. You stare down at it, waiting and hoping to feel something. That excited giddiness you usually feel, or the butterflies that typically erupt in your stomach, but nothing comes. You close out of the app without accepting the invite and drive home. 
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A soft knock on your door pulls you from the anxiety-ridden nightmares you’ve been slipping in and out of. In the first one, you were having your degree taken away. In the second, you were sitting on the end of the bed in Joel’s private room looking out a window into the voyeur room. Joel was walking another woman around, similar to how he did with you the first time. The one that your roommate interrupted involved you being completely naked while trying to find your first class at Harvard.
“Babe?” Odette’s calm voice fills your room, “You ok?”
You tap your phone screen: 9 pm. You’ve been passed out all afternoon and evening. 
“Ya, just had a hard day.” You try to move out from the blankets, but they’re tangled around your limbs; a clear sign that you were restless in your sleep.
“Are you hungry? I ordered pizza. You have a few more college letters too, I think three were in the mailbox today.” Her voice is light and excited, as if she’s trying to pump you up. 
“Thanks, O. I’ll, umm, I’ll be out in a sec.”
The door shuts gently and the tears finally come. Five minutes, you tell yourself, before you start sobbing into your pillow to not alert Odette. After your allotted crying time is up, you open your phone. Messages from Jamie and Laren are left on read before you slide into the JMK app and accept Joel's request to meet at the club tomorrow night. You join Odette for a late dinner, but there’s no way you’re opening those letters tonight. 
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Cap drops you off outside of the club the next night. This seems to be the officially unofficial routine of being Joel’s sub and you aren’t sure why. Cap confirmed last time that he didn’t do this for the other girls; you don’t deserve special treatment.
Any treatment, really, you think. Even the little box of feelings in your mind feels the same way, sulking sadly in the dark corner you banished it to. 
The black marble foyer feels cold and mocking tonight, even with the beautiful hostess smiling brightly and greeting you by name. As you turn towards the entrance to the club, a man dressed in an impeccable black suit holds his arm out for you. 
“Good evening, Miss. Joel asked me to escort you to his room tonight.”
You nod, forcing a smile and a thank you. All this black feels like he’s walking you to your own funeral. As you step into the club there are people everywhere. Couples are dancing, people are taking up the tables and the barstools. The deep bass of the music thumps through the club and the nagging pressure behind your right eye threatens to pop it right from its socket. 
The security guard holds his wrist to the pad on the door and holds it open for you.
“Thanks,” you say again through another fake smile. 
The door clicks behind you and the music dulls, the only light on this side of the door comes from the propped open door of Mister Miller’s room. You rap your knuckles lightly on the door frame and Joel steps into view. Your eyes travel from his shiny black dress shoes, up the perfectly tailored black dress pants and fitted white dress shirt. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, exposing the strong muscle lined forearms that usually drive you wild. You stand there, waiting and hoping to feel something, but just like in your car yesterday, nothing comes. Meanwhile, he’s smiling at you as if he’s just discovered the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. 
“Hi, my sweet girl,” Joel’s voice usually coats you like warm molasses, especially when he calls you his. But the rejection letters feel like they have plastered themselves onto you, seemingly creating a hard shell, keeping that miserable gray fog from escaping. 
“Hi, Mister Miller,” you say obediently, hoping he doesn’t notice anything is wrong. 
He motions for you to come inside, and pulls you into his arms as the door quietly clicks shut behind you. You wrap yours around his waist subconsciously as he presses his lips to your forehead. You’re sure the two of you have embraced like this before but right now it feels foreign. “What’s wrong?”
Fuck.
“Nothing. I’m sorry, it’s just been a long few days. I’m sorry, I can go. I don’t want to drag you down.” Your hands fist his dress shirt, a silent cry for him to not let you leave as an annoying dry lump forms in your throat. 
“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry, baby girl.” His hands run long, slow lines up and down your back as he brings his forehead to meet yours.
The pounding of the music on the other side of the club fades away completely as his eyes melt into yours. It's absurd that you missed him, isn’t it? You are his submissive, nothing else. But when he looks at you the way he is now it’s hard to remember up from down. The pressure behind your eye dissipates as one of his hands cups the nape of your neck and squeezes gently. From the outside eye, you could almost argue that he’s acting as if he missed you too.
His voice is a soft whisper as he continues, “Did you want to talk about it?”
Maybe it’s his years of experience as a dom and taking care of his subs. Or maybe this is just normal for him, but you aren’t used to someone wanting to talk about it. You’re used to a quick hug and a shitty pep talk. His hands felt heavenly on your clothed body, but as they brush against the bare skin of your neck to cup your cheeks they’re out of this world. This strong, successful, handsome man is giving you his full attention, wants to give you his full attention, and as his nose runs down yours it finally happens. 
Your body is flooded with that familiar desire. Your breathing catches as you practically moan, “No, I need you to make me forget. Help me, Mister Miller. Please?”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, exposing that dimple that makes him so damn endearing as he pulls his face back from yours. “I’m going to push you tonight, sweet girl.” He slides your faux leather jacket off, letting it hit the floor. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, Mister Miller,” you say, your voice turning husky. 
His eyes dance around your features and with a single blink he switches. You don’t think you could ever describe it, but it’s like he puts on a mask. His soft brown eyes turn almost onyx, the muscles in his jaw seem flexed, but it’s his voice that really gives away when he’s transformed into his fully dominant form. Joel’s voice is deep yet has a soft aura. Mister Miller's voice on the other hand is full of gravel, and nothing is a suggestion. 
“Take off your clothes.”
Joel steps back, watching as you slip your bare feet out of your sandals. You felt underdressed tonight, but you just couldn’t convince yourself to put together an outfit. Your denim shorts and oversized black t-shirt come off easily and after stepping out of your shorts you look up at Mister Miller. His tongue runs along his bottom lip as he takes you in, eyes widening at your lack of bra and panties tonight.
“Dirty little girl.” He accentuates every word as his eyes travel a burning path up and down your exposed skin and then to the side of the room behind you. “See that pillow?”
You spin slowly, a black velvet pillow sits on the floor, handcuffs hanging above it from a chain connected to the ceiling. You look over your bare shoulder at Joel who simply juts his chin towards it in a silent command. As you walk towards the pillow, the metallic clink of his ring hitting the ceramic dish washes over you. Goosebumps spread across your skin and you feel the anxiety leaving your body. The doubt that has been screaming at you dulls to a barely-there whisper. For a second you feel weightless, floating towards the black pillow like the little styrofoam packing peanuts you used to place in rain run off as a kid.
‘No one has ever made you feel like this’. The little box of feelings says from the dark, ‘He’d take care of you, if you let him.’ You push that box deeper into the archives of your mind as you stop in front of the pillow.
Joel’s voice is deep, almost a menacing growl from behind you as he says, “Kneel.”
Your mind shuts off completely as you comply, dropping to your knees, facing the wall, and tucking your feet underneath you.
“Toes planted on the floor, sweet girl.” You adjust how you're sitting, exposing the soles of your feet to Joel as he walks towards you, his expensive dress shoes clicking slightly on the hardwood. You can feel the heat of his body as he stops just inches from your bare skin. “Good. Hands up.”
His touch is gentle as he places the cuffs around your wrists. “What’s your safeword?”
“Stegosaurus,” you say softly.
“Louder!” He barks.
You jump slightly before saying it again with confidence, “Stegosaurus.”
Joel takes a small step towards the wall and tugs the other end of the chain to pull it tighter, stretching your arms up above your head. You’re almost lifted off your knees. A small piece of leather running up and down your spine and your breathing starts to speed up. The anticipation of what’s to come almost has you bursting at the seams.
“This is a riding crop. You said you’re interested in impact play, as well as paddles, whips and crops. Is that correct?”
You nod, your throat going dry and voice cracking as you say, “Yes, Mister Miller.”
“How’d your LSAT go, baby?”
“I…I th-think I failed,” you murmur.
A sharp snapping sound fills the room, quickly followed by red hot pain on your right ass cheek; you gasp at the sensation.
The soft leather goes back to tracing your spine, slowly up and down, almost feather light and ticklish. “Again, how did your LSAT go?”
“I’m sorry, Mister Miller. But,” your try to swallow the dry lump in your throat. “I think I failed.”
As if he’s had years of sniper training, he strikes you in the exact same spot. This time your body jerks, the chains rattling above you as you cry out. However, the heat of this strike spreads right to your clit, and your cry morphs into a whine of pleasure.
“Sweet girl, do you belong to me?” He trails the leather along your hip, slowly teasing up your side.
“Y-Yes, Mister Miller.” 
“Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect?” The soft end of the crop continues its trail, over the side of your breast and to your armpit.
“No.” You whisper. 
I can’t do this, he’s going to ask me to say I’m perfect and I can’t do it. 
“I don’t appreciate you talking bad about something I own.” A strike lands on the sole of your left foot, you hadn’t even realized the crop had moved from your arm. He taps the foot again, lighter this time but the pain from the first strike hasn’t ceased, a strangled cry passes your lips. “Especially when what you’re talking about is yourself.”
Another strike hits your right ass cheek and the red hot stings of it causes you to shoot up onto your knees. The chains above you rattle and go slack. Joel makes a noise similar to a growl behind you before two quick snaps land on the back of both of your thighs. “Kneel, sweet girl.”
You’re shocked by the moans and gasps that are filling the room, sounds that are unconsciously coming from your own mouth. Your pussy is throbbing and as you settle back onto your heels you realize how wet you are. You didn’t think you’d like this this much. 
“You need to learn how to stay still without being tied down.”
“Sorry, Mister Miller,” you whine through the panting breaths you’re taking. 
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, striking your left cheek and then gently rubbing along your ass. “How did your LSAT go?”
“I…It…I don’t know,” you say defeatedly.
He hits the sole of your left foot again, then your right ass cheek and this time your body acts on its own, your hips tilting to push your ass out towards Joel, a needy moan filling the room. “Come on, baby girl. Use your words.”
“It was harder then I remember,” you hum, your body practically vibrating with need. God, you can’t believe how good this feels.
The crop makes a slow line from the top of your ass, up your spine again and you tense up, sucking in a big breath. “Relax, my sweet girl. Until we talk about it, I will never strike you anywhere above the waist.”
“In fact,” he continues. “Anywhere here,” he draws a big circle along your entire lower back, “Should never, ever, be hit.”
“Ok, th-thank you.” You sink onto your heels again, your inner thighs are almost slippery with how turned on you are. 
Joel laughs lightly, “You’re welcome. So, it was harder than you remember?”
“Y-yes. I think I failed, Joel.” As soon you say it, you know you’ve fucked up. Eight quick, sharp snaps of the crop hit; two on each ass cheek and two on each foot, all at random. It’s over faster than you can apologize, and the walls of your pussy spasm with each crack of leather on skin. “Sorry, Mister Mill, hnng, M-Miller.”
Your head falls back, eyes fluttering closed as he speaks. “Again, it was harder than you remember?”
You whine before whispering, “Yes, but I tried my hardest.”
“Up,” Joel commands, pulling the chain so you’re up on your knees. “Good girl. Spread your legs.”
He bends down behind you, the heat of his broad upper body warming your back. His strong hands grip your waist to steady you as you walk your knees out. “That’s it, good job sweet girl.”
His praise shifts everything. Sure, maybe you failed, but you are stronger than a little test. You are bigger than law school. If you don’t get in, you’ll try again and you’ll keep on trying, because you can do anything. A bright light shines on the little box of feelings.
The crop lightly tapping your inner thigh brings your back to the moment. “Please, Mister Miller.”
“You don’t have to ask, sweet girl. If this is enough to make you come then let go for me.” He whispers, trailing the leather of the crop up your thigh before trailing down the other.
“I need you to touch me,” you whine, letting your head fall forward. 
“Aww, poor baby,” he mocks before bringing the little leather square between your legs and taps lightly against your swollen clit.
“Oh god, oh god, don’t stop,” you moan.
“Yea? My perfect sweet girl gonna come?”
“Yes,” you cry, head now falling back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.
"Tell me,” he commands, stopping the tapping and just letting the soft leather rest against you, “Tell me you're perfect.”
“No, please,” you murmur.
“Tell me you’re perfect and you can come, sweet girl.” The crop is barely touching you now. 
“I’m perfect,” you whine.
He smacks your clit harder once, twice and with the third snap of the crop you fall over the edge. The chains rattle as pleasure consumes you. Your orgasm rolls through you so hard and all you can do is take it. You moan loudly and your legs start to give out beneath you, the handcuffs and chain above you the only thing holding you up.
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Joel
Fuck, she looks absolutely stunning when she finally submits. My beautiful, broken girl. She’s so smart, so driven, always pushing, pushing, pushing. Always taking care of everyone else. I wish she’d just let go, let me take care of her. 
As you slump forward he drops the riding crop, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you up, as he undoes the cuffs. You go completely boneless in his arms, your back pressed to his front, his soft lips peppering kisses along the top of your glistening shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart. God, you’re so beautiful.”
He supports your weakened body, lowering you to the floor and rolling you onto your back. He pushes the hair that’s stuck to your sweat soaked forehead back. The soft and mischievous smile across your face is exactly what he was hoping for; you’re not ready to be done yet and luckily, neither is he. 
“I’m not done with you,” he whispers, gravel in his throat, before kissing your forehead.
Joel stands and takes a few long strides across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. He can feel your eyes glued to him as he walks away. After your joke about his pants he picked a pair that's extra snug, just for you. He’s never picked an outfit for a sub before, and this just further proves that even if he’s not ready to fully admit it to himself yet, you are so much more than just a sub. 
“Sweet girl, come here.” He pats his thigh. As you sit up he says, “No, I want you to crawl to me.”
Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing, and his heart nearly flutters right out of his fucking chest as you say, “What?”
He leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. He wants to wrap you in his arms and praise you, but you’re responding so well to him being mean and he knows you need him to keep going. “I said to fucking crawl.”
When you get on your hands and knees, his cock swells to its full potential, pushing painfully behind the zipper of his dress pants. He begins memorizing every inch of your glistening skin and the lust-filled expression on your face as you move so beautifully across the room. 
“Like this, Mister Miller?” You ask innocently, wetting your lips and effectively ruining his life at the same time. 
“Just like that, my sweet girl,” he praises, sitting back up and patting his thigh as he adds, “All the way, then rest your head right here.”
You finally reach him, settling yourself in a kneeling position again and laying your head on his lap, big eyes looking up at him sweetly. His short nails scrape along your scalp as his fingers card through your hair and butterflies fill his stomach as you melt into his touch. “You look so pretty like this. So sweet and submissive. I’m a bad man for the thoughts I have about you when you’re like this.”
You hum quietly, eyelashes hitting your cheeks as your eyes flutter closed. You’re fully at his mercy, trusting him to do what he thinks is best. It’s not a role he takes lightly, not like when he was younger. If this was fifteen years ago you still be handcuffed to that ceiling as he fucked you, but after breaking a lot of hearts he’s reformed his ways. No sex, that’s the rule, as badly as he’d love to sink into your tight, wet heat, you’re trusting him to keep you safe. 
A sense of calm and comfort washes over him as he continues to massage at your scalp, and he smiles to himself as your body gets heavier between his spread thighs. There’s lots of things he likes about you, but the thing he loves the most is how he never knows what’s going to come out of your mouth next. And you prove that when your eyes flutter open and you confidently say, “I want to suck your cock.”
“Fuck, baby. Gonna give me a heart attack sayin’ shit like that outta the blue.”
Your perfect pink lips curl up into a shy smile, his hand moving from your hair so he can brush his knuckles lightly down your cheek. “S’ that what you want? To suck on my cock?”
Your head comes off his lap as you nod up at him. “Yes, Mister Miller. Please?”
“You know that you don’t have to do that. Right? I don’t do this for orgasms, it’s about so much more than that for me.” He asks softly, knuckles trailing your jaw. 
“I know, it’s more than that for me too, but I want to.”
The two of you look at one another for a while, eyes dancing along each other's faces. His voice comes out thick and full of sand, “Take it out.” 
He sits back, resting his hands on the bed behind him as your hands go to his belt, quickly undoing the buckle and then opening his pants. His thick cock springs free as you pull down his soft black boxers, the tip already leaking a bead of milky precome. As you eagerly press the flat of your tongue to the tip, he stifles a moan and watches as your eyes widen. He knows that look, it’s the same look every other man and woman has when they see it for the first time. Joel’s never been with someone of the same sex, but on the rare times he’s shared a sub with another man they have the same expression too.
“You have a piercing,” you say, curiosity thick in your voice, eyes glued to the nickel sized silver hoop that sits at the very bottom of his pelvis, the bottom of the hoop sitting just above the base of his cock.
“Yes,” he confirms, watching the questions about the unusual placement of it run behind your inquisitive eyes. 
Your hand is wrapped around the base of his cock now, your pinky grazing the shiny metal, and his hands fist the sheets behind him to stop himself from grabbing you. “I didn’t know that was a place people pierced.”
He smirks. “Welcome to the wonderful world of kink, sweet girl.” 
He got the piercing shortly after he began his journey to become a dom. In certain positions it can be very beneficial for his partner, and even though he’s vowed over and over again to himself that he’s not going to cross that line with you, he can’t help but imagine your perfect face as you find out exactly what it can do. A little piece of metal that would stimulate your clit as he fucks you.
Your soft pink tongue wets your lips before you begin to suckle on the sensitive rosy pink tip of his cock. His lips part with a quiet sigh. The entire tip of his cock slips into your mouth and his hands clench harder at the fluffy white sheets, desperately trying to let you explore him when all he wants to do is wrap your silky hair around his hands and hear what you sound like when you gag. His efforts double as you hum and then swirl your tongue around the leaking tip, big doe eyes looking up at him. 
“Fuck, baby,” he almost whimpers. “Do that again.” You smile up at him sweetly and his heart starts to thunder behind his ribs. This isn’t a good idea. He should just focus on you, he gets off on that too, just in a much different way. 
Submissives come to him for many different reasons but he’s a dominant for one reason only. From the minute Tiffany passed, Joel has been responsible for everything. From raising Sarah, to bailing out Tommy whenever he got in trouble. Not to mention his construction job, which eventually led to being a business owner. Everyone needed everything from Joel. He had to pivot plans or multitask, nothing ever went as planned; but when he’s Mister Miller it goes exactly how he wants it to. He can say no, he can make them beg or say please, he plans what happens and it goes just how it’s supposed to. For a man who is supposed to be “the boss”, he only feels in control when he’s playing the role of dominant. 
And then came you. This beautiful little ray of light. From that first gasp and wide eyed stare in his office he had a feeling about you. And then everything that came out of your mouth took him by surprise. And right now, how good your mouth feels has him even more surprised. 
You haven’t looked away as you’ve worked more of him down your throat, your hand moves in tandem with your mouth, and your tongue flicks against the ridge along the bottom of the tip each time. 
“Feels s’good, sweet girl.” One of his hands moves on its own, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You can take more though. Come on. Be a good girl and take it all.” 
A small humming giggle vibrates along his length as you work more of him into your mouth and he can’t fight it anymore. Both his hands come to your hair, pushing it back as he wraps the soft strands around his fingers and grips tightly, guiding you down and holding you as low as he can get you before you gag. “Good fuckin’ girl. Jus’ like that.” 
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You
Joel’s salty precum is like a drug. You want it. Need it. And know you’re going to crave it forever. He’s been mean tonight, something you haven’t really seen from him, but it was exactly what had to happen to get your head back on straight. You needed a harsh hand to snap you out of the dark looming cloud that’s been threatening to swallow you whole. 
You’ve probably always suffered from depression or high-functioning anxiety, not that your parents would have noticed or said anything. And even if they had, they wouldn’t have gotten their braggable daughter diagnosed. God forbid you weren’t something for them to hold over their friends’ heads.  
Joel’s hands tighten in your hair as he starts to take over. He let you taste him, let you get his cock nice and sloppy with your saliva. He looked down at you softly while you started, but now he’s back to full dominance. Full Mister Miller. 
He pushes you down onto his cock, the tip just kissing against your gag reflex. Your scalp burns under his strong fingers and you can feel yourself submitting. Everything goes quiet: your limbs feel heavy yet ready to move or adjust as he commands, the sides of your vision darken, and the only thing that matters now is him. His wishes. His desires. His commands.
He pulls you off of him, and you gasp in air, a string of your spit landing on your chin, your eyes watering. “You snap if you need me to stop, got it?”
“Yes, sir, Mister Miller,” you say hoarsely. “Fuck my mouth, please.”
“Open,” he says growls.
You do as he says, opening your mouth wide while looking into his dark obsidian eyes. You can see his cheeks and tongue working behind his closed lips before he spits into your mouth. 
“That’s my fucking girl,” he rasps and then roughly guides you back onto his cock. He doesn’t take his time or stop at that point of resistance this time. No, this time he pushes you further than you’ve ever been. The cool metal of the ring on his pelvis touches your nose. The juxtaposition of his hard cock meeting your soft mouth and his cold piercing meeting your warm face is staggering, yet comforting.  
“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. 
You switch your focus, sucking air in through your nostrils slowly. “That’s it, sweet girl. Relax.”
You let your body sink again into his muscled lined thighs. He starts to move you up his cock. He gets about halfway before he forces you down again. You gag as he hits the back of your throat, shocking yourself when the gag ends in a moan and your pussy starts to weep for him. In fact, almost everywhere is weeping for him. Salvia drips from your lips and onto his lap, tears run down face. 
You’re a mess.
‘His mess’, says that annoying little box in the corner of your mind which now has ‘Mister Miller’ written across it in loopy cursive handwriting, the dots of the i’s little bedazzled hearts. 
Joel uses your hair to pull you up to the tip and you gasp in a few breaths before he starts moving you up and down his now obscenely wet and fully erect cock. Your jaw aches with how wide you need to open your mouth to fit him. Your fingertips just met around the tapered base earlier. You’ve never looked at man’s cock before and thought much, but Joel’s might be enough to ruin your life.  
 “Fuck, this mouth. Feels s’ fuckin’ good. Look at you, takin’ it so well. You like this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you say, although it’s muffled around his cock. He pulls you off fully, releasing his grips from your hair. You sit back on your heels, his eyes raking over your body, pausing to watch your heaving chest; a mixture of needing to catch your breath and being insanely turned on. You don’t take your eyes off his face.
“Stay.” Joel’s voice is deep enough that you feel it reverberate through you. You lick your lips, swallowing down the taste of him that you’ve become addicted to and place your hands on your lap. 
One of his hands comes up to his mouth and he spits into his own palm before bringing it down to fist his cock. Your eyes flick down to watch as he pumps himself slowly. “You have me doin’ shit that I didn’t plan, sweet girl. I give in to you, let you take the reins. But I’m in charge here.”
He pumps faster, and you fight to stay where you’re supposed to. “You need to remember that, so you don’t get to be the one to make me come today, you don’t get to feel it or taste it. No, you’re going to sit there, like a good little obedient submissive, and watch.”
You whimper, your right hand moving on its own to between your thighs. 
“I didn’t say you could touch yourself. Keep your hands on your lap.” His voice is strained as the movement of his hand becomes less fluid. His free hand comes to his balls, massaging them lightly and you try to commit the sight of him like this to memory. Tall, wide, and commanding, yet falling apart as he looks at your naked and kneeling form in front of him.
“Mister Miller?” You ask, your voice small and cracking, the back of your throat raw from the way he fucked your mouth. “I’m so wet. Please, can I just touch for a little bit?”
His mouth falls open, pleasure etched across his features, his focus never leaving you. “Show me how wet you are. Spread your legs for me.”
You raise off your heels slightly and slide your knees apart, exposing your wet and swollen cunt to him. Then you lean back, hands resting on the floor behind you, tilting your hips up so he can see all of you. 
“Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty,” he moans and then you watch as white ropes of cum spill over his hand. Your name passes his lips in a groan as he comes simply from the sight of your pussy. His hand stills and you lock eyes. You should feel shy like this, but instead you smile at him, a mischievous giggle bubbling up your chest as you bite down on your bottom lip.
His head nods towards the small dresser by the door, the one with the ceramic dish where his ring is on top. “Bring me a small towel from the top drawer and then get on the bed.” 
You saunter to the dresser, trying your hardest not to look too eager, and then back towards him with a small fluffy white hand towel. He takes it from you and cleans himself up as you lay on the bed. He stuffs his softening cock into his boxers and then removes his pants and shirt. If you thought you were turned on before, it’s nothing to how you feel now seeing him almost naked in front of you. 
That whole looking like you’re carved from stone gene is strong with the Millers, you think, watching the muscles behind his toned skin flex beneath his tanned skin as he climbs onto the bed. He grabs you by the ankle and pulls you to the end of the bed, a squeal leaving your lips. You had almost forgotten about the riding crop welts, but the friction against the sheets has them burning slightly and you wince as the heat settles. 
“I’ll fix those sore spots, but first I need to taste you. Is that ok?”
You spread your legs wide for him, “Y-Yes. I need you, Mister Miller.”
“Tell me what you need,” he hums, settling himself between your legs. 
“What you said,” shyness seems to have finally caught up to you, although you aren’t sure why.
He raises a thick dark eyebrow at you. “Ask for it, tell me how you like it.” He nods at you encouragingly as you take a few breaths. “Come on, my sweet girl. You can do it.”
My sweet girl, you melt. That fucking bedazzled box of feelings is fully in the spotlight now. He has years of experience in this role, but you can’t be imagining it. Looking at someone the way he’s looking at you now isn’t something that someone can fake. You can’t be the only one to feel whatever this invisible teether is between the two of you.
“I like fingers curled inside while the tip of your tongue flicks at my clit. I like suction too.” The pride in Joel’s face is almost overwhelming as he listens. God, he’s beautiful. 
He hums slightly, readjusting himself between your spread thighs. “My pretty girl gets what she wants,” he whispers before using the tip of his tongue to gently work at the soft folds of your cunt, working his way from your tight entrance to your clit. 
Your body jerks when he reaches your most sensitive part and you can’t stop the salacious moan that fills the room. “Oh god, Mister Miller.” 
He runs his tongue in slow, teasing circles around your clit. Not with enough pressure to actually make you orgasm, just enough to taunt you, and your entire body breaks out in goosebumps and a thin sheen of sweat at the same time. He slides his right arm under your leg, hooking his elbow under your thigh and reaches his hand up and over towards your pussy. His thick pointer finger and thumb easily slip to each side of your puffy clit. Just as you’re about to float off into another dimension he pinches hard. You scream out in a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, your back arching off the mattress. 
He holds your clit in his fingers, easing up the pinch to tease at it with his tongue again while he works the middle finger of his other hand inside of you. 
“You’re so tight,” he hums between licks. “Gotta relax for me. Let me into this tight little cunt.” 
You whimper at the push of his finger inside of you. One of his fingers is easily one and half of yours, and if he’s having a hard time getting just one of them in, you can’t imagine how it will feel to have two. 
“Eyes on me, sweet girl,” he rasps, releasing your clit from his fingers. His strong hand presses lightly on your mound. “You’re safe here, baby. Open up for me.” 
As always, you follow exactly what your dom says. Craning your neck slightly and opening your eyes to lock your gaze with his. The honey flecks in his dark brown irises warm your skin and as your body relaxes he smiles up at you. You feel Joel’s finger slide the rest of the way in with minimal resistance and it sends a wave of pleasure from your core to your toes.  
“There’s my perfect sweet girl.” He groans as you let out a euphoric whimper. And then he’s back on you. Soft lips pressing to your wet heat, the flat of his large tongue circling your clit. 
Your head falls back to the mattress, “Fuckfuckfuck. Oh god!” 
Your orgasm is embarrassingly close. Joel is hitting almost all the spots you love. No man has gotten you to the edge this quickly. Just as that tingle at the base of your spine starts to spread he curls his finger forward and sucks your clit into your mouth. 
“Mis…hnnng…fuck. I’m - I'm gonna.” You can barely think outside of the pleasure, nevermind form a sentence. 
A second finger slips inside of you, “Give it to me, sweet girl. Show me what I do to you.” 
Your orgasm hits you like an earthquake, making you shake harder than you ever have. The walls of your pussy clench hard on his strong fingers. His mouth is back on your clit, sucking it between his soft, warm lips. The lewd sounds of his sucking mix with your cries of pleasure. Joel is ruthless, never stopping as you absolutely crumble underneath his touch. Another strong wave of your orgasm rushes through you when he curls his fingers forward again, pressing right on your g-spot.
“Oh fuck, fuuuck Mister Miller.” You whine.
He slows the motion of his tongue as the convulsions of your body slow, working you through the aftershocks of your earth shattering orgasm. 
“Good girl,” he whispers before placing a light kiss to your spent clit and slowly slips his fingers out of you. As your gazes lock he licks your arousal off his fingers and then rolls you onto your stomach. You hear him suck in a breath through his teeth when he sees the aftermath of his riding crop punishment earlier. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. Just stay on your stomach for me.”
His lips press to your shoulder blade as the mattress baubles under his weight leaving the bed. You glance over at him, watching his broad, tanned back as he grabs a few items. He spins to face you, coconut oil in one hand and an orange juice and a bottle of water in the other. He places the drinks on the bedside table then scoops a bit of coconut oil onto his fingers. 
You wince as he makes contact with your right cheek, “Ouch, Mister Miller.”
“I know. This will help, and hopefully you learned your lesson about talking badly about what belongs to me.” His voice is sweet yet serious and he moves onto the other cheek, then the back of your thighs before his hand wraps around your right ankle, guiding you to bend your knee so he can look at the sole of your foot. 
He places a light kiss on the light pink spot and you giggle, “Your beard tickles.”
He laughs and does the same thing to the other foot before lining his body up with yours and pulling you in to be his little spoon. “How are you feeling, sweet girl?”
“Mmmm,” you hum, sinking back into his warmth. “Much better. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” he holds you tighter, biceps flexing around your body like a ring of muscled safety. You're both quiet for a few minutes before he breaks it. “You kinda scared me tonight if I’m being honest.”
“Sorry,” you whisper, hiding your face in the arm he has under your head.
“No, don’t be. I’ve always been good at reading people, it’s probably more of a curse than a gift, but I just - I could feel that you weren’t in a good space when you got here.”
“Ya,” you agree.
“I know I can’t fix it, it’s not my place, but I hope I at least helped.”
You fixed it.
“You did help. I feel much better. Plus,” you turn to face him, both of you using one of your own arms to support your heads and your other arms wrapping around the other person. “Plus, you were right. I am smart. I can do this. I need to not be so hard on myself.”
Joel smiles sweetly, straight white teeth shining at you. 
“If I can be spanked with a riding crop while handcuffed, fuck, I can be aaaanything.”
You and Joel laugh together and it all feels so natural. Maybe too natural. There’s something comfortable and familiar about him. It might be that southern hospitality, but in all the years you’ve been in Texas you’ve never felt this content with someone else. 
“Mister Miller?” you say as the laughter subsides.
“You can call me Joel now,” his eyes widen just for a fraction of a second after it leaves his lips, almost as if he didn’t intend for it to come out before adding, “The scene is over.”
“Ah, so you’re saying this is a safe nickname zone now?” His smile makes your stomach flip.
“Careful, freckles.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you. 
You give him a closed lipped smile, “Hey, if you’re gonna use it then so am I, sweet cheeks. Don’t think I didn’t notice the extra tight pants tonight.”
He shrugs a strong shoulder to his ear as you continue. “So, if you don’t sleep with your subs, why the piercing?”
He takes one big breath and licks his lips before he starts, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “I got it a long time ago, I wasn’t always as strict with my rules. I’m not proud of it, I broke a lot of hearts when I first started this whole thing. I haven’t taken it out because…well, I don’t really know. I guess because when I do finally reach that point with a partner I want them to experience the benefits.”
Always the giver, you think. 
“Can you have a traditional partner while living this lifestyle?” You immediately begin to back track, realizing that you don’t want to seem like you’re getting attached. “Not you in particular. What you do outside of this room isn’t my business. I just mean like, are there doms that have subs that are married? Again, not you.”
He stares at you as you continue to ramble. “That whole thing came out wrong.”
“Relax, freckles, I knew what you meant. You’re kinda cute when you get all flustered and start to ramble though.”
The lid of the now pink painted box of feelings in your mind lifts a little. It seems to have gained an entire personality, and has the voice of Mrs. Potts from Beauty and The Beast as it says, ‘oh he definitely feels that tether too.’ 
“To answer your question,” his voice pulls you out of your own mind, “There are doms that do this professionally. I did have paying subs at one point myself and had a fairly serious girlfriend.”
Jealousy churns in your stomach. It’s irrational and you really hope it isn’t whoever Tess is. 
“But,” he continues, “It’s a tricky situation and involves a lot of trust and communication. Probably more than a sub-dom dynamic. But, yes, I’ve seen lots of happily married people who live and explore the kink lifestyle.”
You shiver slightly and he pulls you in closer, tucking your head into his chest, inhaling that ash, leather and natural Joel musk. His hand runs up and down your naked back, the calluses on his fingers scratching slightly. 
His body tenses, almost as if he’s nervous before he speaks. “Did you want to come to a Shibari class with me this week? We are hosting a demonstration at the club on Wednesday.”  
You glance up at him, “I’d really like that, Joel.”
He tucks your head back into his chest. His lips press to the crown of your head at the same time that yours meet the soft skin of his sternum. “It’s a date.”
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Part Two
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navybrat817 · 2 months ago
Text
Hold You Tight: Part 10
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Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 9 | Series Masterlist | Part 11
Chapter Summary: You're determined to have a good day today.
Chapter Word Count: Almost 4.4k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, mild dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The next day you cautiously looked around your bedroom as you opened your eyes. You expected to find Bucky in bed beside you since you wouldn’t have put it past him to sneak back into your place once you fell asleep. It was a relief to find yourself alone. It also surprised you that you slept so soundly, but the night before had mentally worn you out. Bucky and his crew were a lot to handle.
If you truly accepted that you were going to be Bucky’s girl, you’d have to get used to them.
“No,” you whispered. You weren’t going to accept it. Not today. Bucky may have taken a few hits at your inner armor, but you’d repair it. You couldn’t give in. But last night, thinking of asking him for your own space at his place, he was luring you in his direction. You had to tread carefully and not lose your resolve.
You got out of bed and went to retrieve the necklace that Bucky gifted you on your first “date”. The diamonds sparkled and reflected the light as you admired them. Beautiful, lavish, something you could easily lose if you weren’t careful. A gift for a pretty doll. Not for someone like you.
“Just buy me a collar and show the world that you own me,” you muttered.
Grabbing your phone, there were no new texts or calls from Bucky. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but you’d take it as a small win that he hadn’t blown up your phone. Smiling to yourself, maybe you could have another small win today. An opportunity.
“Hey! I know it’s short notice, but are you free Saturday? Maybe we can do a small girls' day outside of the city if you aren’t busy with wedding prep.” You sent to Addison. “And I can’t wait to hear about The Terrace.”
It didn’t matter to you that Bucky had some sort of power in various parts of the city, more than you could possibly imagine. You were still your own woman and you wanted to spend time with your friends. After he had a hand in messing up your night with Addison, he owed you that. And the best part? If you went outside of the city, it meant you could have fun at a place he couldn’t touch.
Right?
“The Terrace was AMAZING! I can’t wait to tell you all about it. And are we sharing a brain? I was just getting ready to text you! How about The Winery at Hunter’s Cove? It’ll be fun!” Addison sent back.
You frowned at your phone. The Winery at Hunter’s Cove was beautiful and the perfect place to relax with a drink and good company. Reading that should’ve filled you with joy, but your shackles rose up. It didn’t feel right. Did Bucky or Nick or someone have anything to do with that?
After a second, you laughed. Your nerves were continuing to get the better of you. It wasn’t as if you could go the rest of your life with second guessing everything. It would drive you crazy.
“Just give me a time and place to meet and I’ll be there. Can’t wait!”
A bright smile on your face, you got ready for the day with a spring in your step. A spark of optimism lit within you and you let it spread as you set out your work clothes. You even sang to yourself in the shower and drew a smiley face in the fogged up mirror before you dressed yourself. It was going to be a great day.
“I’m walking on sunshine. Whoa-oh,” you sang as you opened the front door.
“And don’t it feel good,” you heard from the hallway.
“Shit!” Your heart pounded as Bucky stood there with an amused smile on his face. How long was he waiting there? Did he know you were leaving right now? “Bucky, what are you doing here?”
God forbid the man give you even half a day to breathe.
“I know I said I’d try to meet you for lunch, but I couldn’t wait. I thought it’d be nice to take you to work instead,” he said, his eyes still sparkling as he moved closer. An impeccable suit like always, but today he wore an aqua shirt. He was really leaning into the shirts that enhanced his eyes. “You’re in a chipper mood. That’s nice to see.”
You were in a bit of a chipper mood until now. No, you wouldn’t let him showing up put a damper on things. “Just determined to have a good day,” you explained, looking at his arm before you took it. “I’m actually glad you’re here,��� you added. You did have to talk to him about Saturday and, well, whatever the future would bring.
“Yeah? I’m glad I’m here, too.” His eyes lit up as he glanced at you. He looked over the moon and you had to sweep your gaze down to avoid his stare. “Is it bad if I admit I stayed up way too late staring at your photo?” He smiled, leaning in like he was telling you a secret.
If you had to guess, he likely jerked off to your picture. How long would that keep him satisfied? His control had to be diminishing. “A picture of me is hardly a reason to lose any sleep.”
“Worth every second of lost sleep. I definitely need more pictures.” Your stomach dropped when his smile widened. “You know, the more I think about it, I kind of want to replace that painting in my office. Maybe it could be a photo of us or even just you? Or Steve could paint us! I know he’d love that.”
Guilt brewed within you since he sounded so enthusiastic and you would likely crush that mood, but you pushed that feeling aside. There was no reason for you to feel bad in the least. “So, I’m going out with my girlfriends on Saturday. Somewhere outside of the city,” you blurted out to change the subject, staring at the elevator door when the smile slipped off his face.
You were suddenly terrified of his reaction and you were about to step into a very small space with him. There would be no hiding. So much for treading carefully, but it was better in this case to just rip the bandaid off.
Bucky’s stare was almost impassive as you went into the elevator, which had your heart speeding up. “You’re going outside of the city?” His voice was soft, but had an edge that threatened to cut through you like a knife. “Without me?”
“It’s just a short girls trip. A bit of time with my friends. You understand, right?” Your voice cracked, your body tight with tension. “You and I didn’t have any plans, so maybe you can hang out with the guys.”
“I don’t want to hang out with them. I see them all the time,” he said, bringing his lips to your ear with a shaky breath. “I want to be with you.”
The air thickened, the elevator feeling smaller than usual as you considered his words. He didn’t sound upset that you wanted to go, but because you wanted to go without him. Sympathizing with his loneliness wouldn’t help your case, not when he manipulated things in his favor.
“I know this may not be easy, but you need to accept that I have friends, Bucky. That I had a life before you… showed up. It wasn’t much, but it was mine,” you said, not daring to turn your head and risk his lips touching yours. “It’s good for us to have things outside of each other. And may I remind you what you said on our first date? You said you wouldn’t stop me from spending time with my friends or having hobbies.”
Bucky almost seemed to need you and no one had ever needed you before. But he couldn’t completely depend on you for whatever it was he needed either. Relying on you too heavily wasn’t healthy. It wouldn’t just smother you, it would eventually destroy you both.
“I remember,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I just don’t know if it’s safe for you to be so far away from me for the time being. I think I’ve said I don’t even like you being in this building because my place is safer than yours. And if I haven’t, I’m telling you now.”
Worry crept into your face as you inched away a bit and faced him. “Why wouldn’t I be safe going out with my friends?”
His blue eyes narrowed, but there was no annoyance there. “Kotyonok, you may be innocent in some ways, but you aren’t naive or that forgetful. I told you last night that you need people looking out for you if you’re with me,” he said, your stomach sinking more. He was right. “And you must be aware that I have my hand in things outside of the club. You’ve seen some of the company I keep. Do you think everything we have was earned through honest, hard work?”
The men Bucky surrounded himself with lived in the gray. You couldn’t ignore obvious signs, like how Marc reacted to hearing his name. Bucky even treated your courting that way, breaking in and intimidating you. “It’s none of my business,” you said. The more you knew, the harder it would be to get away. “I haven’t even looked for anything about you online.”
“The harsh reality is that it’s going to become your business, at least it will to a certain extent. I can’t leave you in the dark, but I don’t want you fully exposed.” He sighed, suddenly looking tired. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a hint of regret there. It disappeared quickly. “As far as looking online, you probably wouldn’t find much. We work hard to keep it that way. I don’t even have social media. Though if I did, it might just be photos of you and the two of us together.”
“So, you don’t want me to go out of the city for my safety?” You asked, stepping off the elevator. You wanted to believe that was his twisted reason for having you move in so soon and not because he wanted you close for his own selfish desires. Wasn’t it selfish though for dragging you into his world without so much as a warning or giving you a choice? “Do you really think people outside of your circle know we’re ‘together’ yet? You said it yourself, you don’t have social media and it isn’t like I’ve been in your life for that long.”
“As far as I know, no one is aware,” he said slowly. After what he did to John for merely insulting you, you prayed no one would be stupid enough to cross your path and try to cause you hurt or harm. “But I don’t know if I want to take the risk.”
“You wouldn’t be taking the risk. I would. And it isn't fair that you’d expect me to put my life on pause,” you argued, seeing Ray standing outside of the car. How the hell did they get a spot right in front of the building? “Ray, would you kindly tell your boss that I should go out with my friends on Saturday? Please?” You cut him a pleading look, needing this.
Ray blinked twice. “I’d rather not get involved in that quarrel,” he said, looking at his boss. “But perhaps if she really does want to go and you’re unable to accompany her, boss, someone could discreetly keep an eye on her.”
“Yes! That’s a great idea. Thank you, Ray,” you smiled before Bucky could interject. You wouldn’t normally agree to someone hovering nearby, but right now you could kiss Ray for the suggestion. “See? I get time with my friends and you don’t have to worry about my safety. Problem solved.” You even flashed him a soft smile for good measure.
You weren’t sure if it was your smile, the stare from his bodyguard, or the combination that made Bucky nod, but your heart soared. “I guess I’ll have to see if someone is free.” He let out a humorless laugh and raked a hand through his hair as Ray looked at his feet. “Using one of my men to sway me? You’re playing dirty. I’m impressed.”
“Or maybe I’m just learning how to play your game,” you said, ducking into the car with Bucky right behind you. The happy feeling was back in full force. Had Bucky not agreed, you would’ve been defiant and gone anyway. Who knew how that would’ve gone? This was a better compromise. For now.
“Ray really does have a soft spot for you,” Bucky said once the door was shut, taking your hand. “It would worry me if he wasn’t so loyal.”
“Worry about what exactly?” You asked.
“Him trying to get you away from me.” He smiled a bit, making you shift in your seat. Did he know you had tried to get Ray on your side? “But he isn’t a man to typically let his emotions drive him. He’s loyal.”
“He won’t try to get me away from you, Bucky. He knows you’re happier because I’m in your life and wouldn’t risk changing that,” you said, thinking back on your conversation with Ray. It wasn’t like you wanted to assure Bucky that you two would be together, but you also didn’t want his bodyguard on the man’s bad side indirectly because of you. Not when he watched out for you. “Maybe he isn’t a man driven by emotions, but I think he does care about your emotions.”
“Maybe,” he smiled softly as he kissed your hand, making you gasp when he gently nipped one of your knuckles. “There’s something else you want to say. I can feel it.”
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “If I move in with you, I need my own space.”
He looked surprised. Not entirely, but there was still a flicker there. “So, you’ve accepted that you’re moving in with me. I’m glad to hear that.”
“I said ‘if’, Bucky.” You had to emphasize that. “I’m not saying it’s going to happen, but you do need to give me some leeway if it does.”
His tone was calm, dare you say serene, when he asked, “And what exactly would your own space entail?”
“An area for me. Not for you, Ray, or anyone else. Just me,” you said. Nothing in your life felt sacred anymore. You needed your own sort of safe haven and a place to relax, even if it was in the prison he helped create. “That’s important to me and I won’t budge on that.”
“Okay. A space just for you if that’s what you want. I won't let anyone go in there,” he promised.
Your gaze was skeptical. Why was he being so agreeable? Well, agreeable to a point. “That would be really nice,” you said, your eyes shifting from suspicion to gratitude.
“But as far as sleeping arrangements, I want you in bed with me,” he said, his voice raspier as his gaze went to your legs. “It’s a shame you have to cover yourself up for work, but I’m looking forward to helping you out of your clothes. I wonder if the smell of those petals seeps through the fabric. I can’t wait to find out.”
“Bucky,” you whispered, his gaze telling you to part your thighs. You didn’t, even when he sighed.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t get us worked up and make you late for work,” he said, sounding anything but sorry before he reached for something beside him. At least he didn't push it further. “Before I forget.”
“What’s this?” You asked as he handed you a book.
“The one from the shop yesterday. You left it here last night.”
“Oh.” You were so eager to get out of the car that you had left it behind. There was also a small stack of books on the other seat you hadn’t noticed before. “And what are those?”
“I went back to the shop and got more from that same author,” he smiled, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “You seemed to like the book you were reading and I don’t recall seeing any of those books at your place.”
The gesture took you by surprise. “How? The shop opens later and was closed by the time you brought me back last night.”
“They were kind enough to open a little earlier than usual for me,” he said.
You ran your hand over the spine and smiled before you could stop yourself. It was the kind of gift you wished for, books to line your shelf. “You didn't have to do that,” you said when you caught him staring. “But thank you.”
“You have such a beautiful smile,” he whispered, brushing his hand over your cheek again before he took out his phone. “And you just inspired me.”
“How did I do that?” You questioned, watching him quickly type a message. “And should I be scared?”
“I can’t spoil the surprise,” he winked, typing a bit more. “But I do have a plan and I think you’re going to like it.”
“We’ll see about that,” you said, your mind drifting to work. “I’m curious. You mentioned that the last flower your dad gave to your mom was a black dahlia. Was that her favorite flower?”
He paused before he put his phone away. “No. She loved alstroemerias.”
“The Peruvian Lily. Those are beautiful,” you smiled. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s one of the flowers I like to donate to the hospital because they have no fragrance, but still brighten up the room.”
“I know.” He swallowed, a shine in his eyes before he blinked a few times. “Yellow ones.”
Your eyes snapped to his face. “I donate a lot of flowers. It’s oddly specific that you know I donate yellow alstroemerias.”
“I told you I did my research on you,” he whispered.
“So, what? You got… hospital footage or something of me?” You felt your blood boil. How many boundaries did he cross, rules did he break? “I saw the look you gave Thor. You didn't want him to mention that, did you?”
His gloved hand curled a bit. “He was complimenting you, but I wasn't ready for that conversation. At least, not last night.”
“Why not?” You asked. Why did it matter?
“Because you already think I’m crazy,” he said. You didn’t deny that. “And what I tell you, you may either agree with me that fate brought you into my club and life or that I really am crazy.”
“I don’t know what that means,” you said. The grave look in his blue eyes gave you pause. The fond gazes and even the heated, intense ones, you were almost used to them. Sadness? That was something else.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He nodded toward the window. “You should head into work.”
You didn’t realize the car stopped. Work would be a good distraction anyway. “I’ll get the books later.”
“And I’ll walk you to the door,” he offered.
Helping you out of the car like he did every other time, he guided you toward the flower shop with a possessive touch. “You know, you haven’t asked where I’m going on Saturday.”
“I’m sure I’ll get it out of you, especially if one of my men needs to be nearby. Maybe I can buy you a new outfit to wear,” he said, tracing a finger along your neck. “Or maybe a collar to show off while you tell your friends all about me.”
“A collar.” Your body went rigid, remembering what you muttered in your bedroom. “Why would you…”
“Maybe I’ll see you at lunch? I’d love to look around the shop.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Have a good day and be good,” he added, opening the door and giving you a pat on your ass before you went inside.
You looked over your shoulder as he went back to the car. The first thing you were going to do when you got home was tear your place apart from hidden microphones or cameras. You should’ve done that the second he broke into your place. You live and you learn.
“And who is that handsome young man?” Mrs. Crandle asked from behind the counter.
You smiled as you turned toward your boss and the owner of the shop, one of the kindest people you had ever met. It was a good sign that she didn’t recognize Bucky. “Someone who thinks he’s my boyfriend,” you teased a little. You couldn’t burden her with the whole truth.
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” She knew you hadn’t dated in ages. “And what do you think?”
“I think he’s very determined to win me over,” you said, going to put your bag away.
“Let him!” She called after you.
“Maybe!” You called back.
As you went about your tasks, you pondered on what Bucky had to tell you and the anniversary Marc mentioned. It had to do with Bucky’s mom, it had to, but what did that have to do with you? Not every customer became registered in the system, but your team did a great job of keeping order history for deliveries, parties, and more. Nothing came up when you searched “Barnes”.
You tapped your finger against the keyboard before you straightened up. Hospital donations likely wouldn’t have a name saved since you weren’t usually given the patient names. You did, however, keep track of the dates. If you knew the range to check…
“Excuse me?” A deep timbre pulled your attention away.
You glanced up to find one of your regular customers towering over the counter. Blue eyes crinkled behind his glasses when he smiled, his dark curls adding to his boyish charm. For such a large and imposing man, he kept his shoulders hunched and voice gentle. Like he was trying to make himself look friendlier. “Clark, hi. Sorry about that,” you said, closing out your search screen. Mrs. Crandle was back in her office and you wouldn’t make her help him. “How are you today? A dozen red roses, right?”
Clark usually showed up once a month to get a dozen roses for his girlfriend. No more, no less. But the mention of his usual order made his smile disappear. “Actually, I don’t think I’ll be needing those today.” He took off his glasses to clean them when you set out the bouquet, though there wasn’t a spec of dirt on the lenses. “I, um… Well, I’m not in a relationship anymore. We broke up a couple of weeks ago.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” You felt terrible, especially since you weren’t sure what to say. It wasn’t your business regarding why things ended, but he always seemed so happy when he purchased the roses. “Are you okay?”
He put his glasses back on, his eyes holding a weight of sadness. “I’m sorry, too. And I’m not sure if I’m okay. Everything seemed fine and then it fell apart.” He sighed, looking around the shop. “I’m not even sure why I came here today.”
You felt for him. You really did. “Well, it could’ve been part of your monthly routine and you went on autopilot? Or you wanted to go somewhere familiar?” You suggested, looking around, too. “Or maybe you thought the bright atmosphere would help?”
He nodded after a moment. “It could be any of those things.” Scratching the back of his neck, he sadly chuckled. “It’s just an empty feeling being alone again, you know?”
“I do know. Emptiness can weigh a lot and it’s very lonely to walk alone. But that walk, no matter how long or short, makes us stronger. It gives us a chance to grow until we find someone to walk with us again. And when that happens, things will look much brighter.” You said, your heart heavy as you selected a couple of roses from the bouquet. “I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for my input and that’s probably the last thing you want to hear.”
“No, that’s… Thank you. You’ve always been really kind. Insightful.” He glanced down as you put the roses in his hand, his large hand closing around the stems. “What are these for?”
“I’m happy to help,” you smiled. “They’re for you. No charge.”
He gazed at you before he placed them back in your hand. “You take them.”
You weren’t sure why the gesture made you feel uncomfortable, but it did. Maybe it was because he was fresh out of a relationship. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. I’m surrounded by flowers,” you said, gesturing with your free hand. “You keep them. Or you could always give them a neighbor or someone who needs cheering up.”
“You sure you don’t want them?” He asked when you passed them back again. You pulled your hand away quickly, refusing to let it linger. “You really have been so kind to me whenever I’ve stopped in.”
“Well, you’re a great customer.” You also didn’t want to have to explain to Bucky that a customer tried to give you flowers. “Take them. I insist.”
Flashing you a warm smile, he relented. “Thanks,” he said, hesitating when he went to turn away. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”
“I’m sure you’ll see me at the shop,” you said carefully. Unease filled you, which didn’t make sense. Clark was a regular customer who wanted nothing to do with you. But if he did have some sort of intention, you weren’t about to lead him on. “I hope things look up.”
Clark hesitated again before he pushed his glasses up and headed out of the shop without another word. You swallowed, staring at the remaining roses as if they would tell you what to do next. For now, you’d have to brace yourself for Bucky stopping by for lunch. And maybe you’d ask him if there were any devices hidden around your place and save you the trouble of tearing the rooms apart.
Though you had a feeling you weren’t going to like the answer.
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Awful nice of Ray to suggest some leeway, wasn't it? Is Clark going to be a problem? What's Bucky going to think? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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redflagshipwriter · 4 months ago
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Fast Car Masterpost and Prologue
dead on main fic, intro + four chapters.
Summary: The Red Hood starts off his righteous campaign with a lot of nerve but no legal identification that will let him behind the wheel of a car. Public transportation really doesn't have the panache he needs to start off as a fearsome crime lord, so he needs a driver. He finds Danny Fenton, a grungly college student trying not to be noticed by any government agencies or vigilantes.
to subscribe to this post, on mobile open the notes and click the bell on the upper right hand corner of the post. on desktop, open the notes at the bottom and press the bell on the right edge of the notes.
Links will be added to chapter list as the story posts. Chapter one will go up on July 14th. Updates are approximately every other day.
LINKS/ chapter count
chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4
prologue
“No, Habibi,” Talia said calmly into the phone. “I will not falsify you an American non-commercial driver's license for motor vehicles. If you cannot prove yourself to Gotham without American motor vehicle operating permissions, you will never prove yourself. Rise above this challenge.” Talia covered the phone for a second but he could hear her talking to someone else about tile options.
“It's an unnecessary challenge,” Jason argued, doing his level best not to let his tone go up. It was undignified to whine. He was a man now. “The important parts of the challenge are the tactical planning and the skills.”
Talia sounded like she was filing her nails. “Tactically plan to take the bus. Or walk. Walking is free and healthy.” 
Jason made an indignant sound but she mercilessly hung up. The worst! She made the top three of his worst mother figures, easily.
“She's just doing this so I can't go drinking.” He scowled into the air. “I don't even want to!” His voice broke mid whine, which was an insult to add to all the injuries visited upon him by the cruel whims of women who weren't even his legal guardian. He was an adult in most countries!
The worst part was that Talia didn't care about underage drinking. She just didn't want to hear shit about enabling him from Bruce when he eventually figured out that Jason was alive, 19, and in Gotham. His passport claimed he was 21 because it had to for him to travel alone, but she knew damn well no one used their passport as ID in bars. 
He couldn't just go get a license. Jason sulked viciously and threw himself into fixing his plans to accommodate for this. 
He was legally dead and living under a fake name. If he tried to sign up for the driving exam, it'd be too much scrutiny on his paperwork. But he was not taking the bus around as a crime lord. It lacked panache. More importantly, it didn't go where he wanted it to go.
Fine. He didn't need her help. He didn't need anyone's help. He just needed to download Uber. 
That was how Jason wound up wiping a mob lieutenant’s blood off of his hand onto his pants so that he could use the guy's touch screen phone. Victor Woodward's account put in a request for a ride to the Gotham police headquarters. He killed time kicking ass in all the Words with Friends games that Victor had ongoing, which was really gonna surprise anyone who normally played with that boob. Victor’s last ever play was ‘cat,’ for fuck’s sake.
A few minutes later, a skinny teenager pulled up in his clanker and opened the door. Jason put on a smile and hefted his duffle bag a little higher on his shoulder. 
“Hi! Victor?” The guy, Danny, waved his phone at Jason.
“That's me!” Jason lied breezily. “Can I put this in the trunk?” 
“Go for it.” Danny popped the trunk open from inside the car. He watched Jason with his big blue doe eyes.
For an instant, Jason thought that Danny might have seen something. Paranoia reared up. Was there blood visible? Was it easy to tell that the shapes in the bag were heads?”
The moment passed. Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 
Jason got in the car and let satisfaction wash over his body as the weirdly timid kid pulled them out into traffic at a snail’s pace. Whatever. They wouldn’t get stopped for a traffic violation when the driver was cautious.
He’d done it. His debut as the terrifying Red Hood, hunter of the wicked and bane of the Batman, was launched. And he didn’t need a license to do it.
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celestiamour · 24 days ago
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ where he finds home ]❜
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ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ you and your daughter have managed to fall into a comfortable pattern of life with logan by your sides, but your ex shows up one night to stir up some trouble and the wolverine isn’t having any of it┊2.9k words; prt one, prt two (here), prt three (coming soon)
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: hurt/comfort? mostly fluff, ooc logan probably, single mother reader with an unspecified age but still younger than logan, this chapter is mostly in your perspective, asshole exes, rushed ending what, but love confessions & getting together isn’t that cute
➤ author's note: alright, part two of the single mom! reader & her daughter!! the amount of support i’ve had on this was overwhelming, so sorry that this chapter isn’t on par with the first one, hopefully the next one will be better!
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ever since that night, logan found himself rarely going a single day without interacting with you or your daughter. he can’t explain the force that seems to pull him towards the two of you, but he can easily realize that the sheer magnitude of it overpowered the little voice in the back of his head spewing pessimistic comments about how this couldn’t possibly end well just like everything else in his life did. his little made-up rule not to get attached is thrown out the window every time he sees either of you, reminding him that one simply cannot fight against the impossible no matter how much of a hardened killing machine he used to be. how could he try to avoid these feelings when they seemed to fill the hole in his heart until it was bursting at the seams with affection as if it was as easy as the apple pie you sometimes baked to share?
besides, even if he tried to hide this rapidly growing fondness, it’s not like anyone would have let him: not when wade keeps on offering to babysit while you’re at work, not when your baby has picked up the habit of running up to him to ask for hugs or to be picked up, not when you’re a sight for sore eyes as you follow up in the evening in your formal attire and pearls to pick her up, and especially not when althea keeps asking you when you two are getting married with the claim that she doesn’t need sight to see the chemistry happening at the dinner table. 
you’ll laugh and brush it off as the old lady watching too many romance films in her free time, but your cheeks are secretly burning in embarrassment at how literally everyone can tell that you’re crushing like a high schooler in your grown age except for the subject of your fancy. 
logan himself is pretty difficult to read, but thankfully, his roommates are open-book, blunt to a fault, and willing to tell you anything and everything you need to know whether or not you even asked. for example, they confirmed he did indeed have a soft spot for you and your daughter, one that made them howl with laughter as they bully him relentlessly for it (feel free to tell them that they shouldn’t because he’s just being nice, they aren’t going to listen to you). he tries his best to refrain from swearing within earshot, not even under his breath on the off-chance she will hear it and pick it up. he fixes his appearance whenever he knows he’ll see you in an attempt to look more approachable. he never cares to listen to the ongoing conversations about other friends, but he’ll lean in a little closer if it’s about you. he even buys toys or stuffed animals on occasion because he thinks of her when he sees them.
you probably shouldn’t be thinking about these things during such a busy moment of your life when you’re focused on raising your daughter, getting that job promotion in the bag, and finally agreeing to take your ex to court for him to take responsibility by paying child support. although he’s as kind as a man who is as gruff and rugged as he can be, he’s still an older man (both chronologically and biologically) who is a mutant superhero with powers you were still unaware of. it’s not you questioning if he’s safe to be around, it’s you questioning if it’s in his best interest to have a family with all that going on (especially if he wanted to play father to a toddler who had no blood relation to him. playing uncle is one thing, but father? you can never be sure).
still, you would be lying if you said that seeing him being so tender and sweet with your daughter didn’t stir up a domestic image in your mind. a girl could only dream, right? 
recently, he’s been showing up at your doorstep with a toolbox in hand every other day. you’ve been complaining lately about how nothing under your roof seems to work anymore and every time you inform the landlord, you get a half-assed job that falls apart within the span of a week: the pipes are leaking, the windows refuse to open, the gas stove won’t start, and there are also other things you never got around to fixing yourself like a wobbly desk or putting together a little bed for your baby since she’s outgrown her crib.
the conversations usually go a little something like:
“oh, you really don’t need to—”
“no, no, i insist— it’s not like i have anything better to do, and i’ll do a much better job than whatever the fuck those maintenance men have been doing anyways.” he’ll purse his lips at the unintentional curse word which slipped and then push past you. “anyway, which windows have been giving you trouble?”
it takes him an hour maximum to work his magic, always leaving behind something fully functional and stable enough to last for years. you’ll compliment his handy skills and try to push a wad of cash into his hands, but he refuses it every single time. you can’t match his stubborn personality for more than a few minutes, so you’ll sigh and offer him to stay for dinner instead because you refuse to let him go home empty-handed after helping you out so generously. 
while you’re busy rummaging through your pantry and fridge for ingredients to cook something of varying degrees of complexity each time, your daughter will make an appearance to keep logan occupied because you refuse to allow anyone to enter your kitchen ever since that incident with wade. yes, he is more careful and mature, no, you’re not taking any chances. 
tonight, she’s playing forcing him to play with an assortment of dolls. he’s never done this before, and it looks so awkward to see a grown-ass six-foot-two man holding a little blonde barbie limply in his hand without any idea what the setting is or the storyline or the characters supposed to be played, but your girl was smiling and cheerfully babbling something barely legible every time he played along so he wasn’t about to complain about it. 
you hummed a tune while slicing thin slices of beef, completely on autopilot and enjoying the night of peace. the doorbell suddenly rang throughout your apartment and you rushed to wash off your hands before wiping them off with a dishrag, assuming it was one of his roommates. who else could the unannounced visitor be at eight-thirty in the evening?
the smile on your face immediately dropped when you saw the unusually unkempt appearance of your ex-fiancé, reeking of booze with his hair sticking out a little past his ears and rough stubble lining his jaw. before you could even say something, he rudely pushed past you and stood in the center of the unfamiliar space. maybe it was for the best since he definitely would have caused a massive commotion in the hallway and disturbed the neighbors who didn’t need to be subjected to your personal issues. your daughter had fallen silent and stared at him in a mix of confusion and something else that was unreadable yet clearly not joyous in any way. 
the entire world seemed to stop for a moment as you held your breath in anticipation of his next move, wondering if he was going to be amiable or (more likely) stir some trouble to disturb the peace. your eyes met with logan’s and you shifted your gaze to the hallway entrance for a split second to signal him to bring your daughter into her bedroom, sparing her the scare that would come when her father would inevitably lash out. 
he understood immediately and picked her up in a single swift motion, “come on, bub, it’s time to go to bed.” his hand rested her head on his shoulder and she appeared to be okay, just wide-eyed with her thumb in her mouth, almost as if she could recognize the gravity of the situation despite barely being able to comprehend such things. 
“it’s only been a few months, and you’re already living with another man…:
“it’s actually almost been a year, but what are you even doing here? i thought you had a wedding to plan.”
“... wedding’s been canceled…”
“aw, really?” you could already tell where this was going. althea told you plenty of times that once he saw how much better you were doing without him while his life quickly tumbles down a slope, he would come crawling back. she made you promise on your life that you wouldn’t take him back no matter what, whether he begged on his knees promising he’ll be better or revealed he was the new ceo of amazon with riches beyond your imagination. you didn’t quite understand her concerns because the thought of it never crossed your mind once, but she just tutted and reminded you that love was unpredictable before revoking her statement when she remembered you wouldn’t get back together with your ex when the wolverine was on the table.
“she was seeing someone else…”
“well, well, well, you know what they say, ‘karma’s a bitch.’ it’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine, you cheating bastard.”
he took a step towards you and you flinched in response, making the other man standing in the shadows straighten his posture. he was never physically abusive, but you had no idea how he would behave under the influence. “you know she was the reason everything fell apart…”
“oh, don’t try to pin the blame on her when you were the one who was about to get married and you were the one who made the choice to abandon her family. good on her for leaving, and you should do the same.”
“do you ever think there would be anyone who would love you like i did? i was your first, and there isn’t anyone else who would take you as is. hell, i don’t even think the other guy will be around for much longer—”
“alright, i’ve had enough of this.” logan came forward from his spot in the shadows, getting closer to your ex until he was clearly intimidated by his looming figure and threatening aura. it’s the first time you’ve seen such a dangerous edge to him, yet strangely enough, you still felt safe knowing he was acting in your defense (if it was any other man, you probably would have kicked them both out before it could escalate). “get out of here.”
“can’t believe this,” he spat, turning his head to look back at you, “you bitch—”
he grunted at the insult, feeling more pissed off about it being directed at you rather than him, promptly throwing a punch into his face and gripping onto his collar before he could stumble over. an unfamiliar *schlikt* sound was heard before your eyes managed to process the long metal claws mere inches away from gouging out your ex’s eyes, making you gasp quietly in shock.
“okay! okay! i’m leaving!”
“i’ll escort you out,” he growled, still not letting go of him as he shoved him out of the door and closed it behind him, wanting to make sure that he would never come to bother you like this ever again and also drag him to apartment security to ensure they understood not to let him in ever again. 
then once he was gone, logan stood outside in the slight cold for a moment wondering what to do next. he just revealed his true nature to you that he’s been trying so hard to suppress: violent and animalistic. he should just prepare to hear you say that you are now scared of him, that you would prefer it if he didn’t come over anymore and to stay away from you and your daughter. 
the worst part is that he can’t even blame you, and a part of him feels like this was for the best. he was stupid to hope for a peaceful domestic with two human civilians when he was a mutant through and through. still, his heart drops at the thought of your eyes looking at him with fear rather than the usual caring, gentle look that made him forget all of his pain.
there was more impending doom weighing on him as he stalked up the stairs than there ever was for certain death missions.
his hyper-sensitive hearing easily picked up the sound of a baby crying, one that he immediately recognized as your daughter’s. he slowed his pace to hear you trying desperately to calm her down.
“oh, oh, shh, i know, i know,” you sighed, “god, logan, please hurry back…” he practically ran when he heard that, bursting through the door and rushing into the nursery which was in the process of being turned into a proper bedroom. there were slight tears pricking at your eyes when you looked at him, “sorry, can you put her to sleep? s-she won’t stop crying…”
“it’s okay, it’s okay, i got it,” he assured, taking her off your hands and soothingly patting her on the back, “please stop crying, you’re breaking your momma’s heart.”
after a minute or so, her high-pitched wails gradually quieted down, falling asleep in his strong arms and allowing him to place her in her little bed which was newly constructed by him just a few days ago. you led him out of the room, being careful not to make any sudden noises so as to not wake her again, and returned to the living room where it all started.
“i’m sorry you had to do all that,” you groaned, placing a palm on your forehead in a poor attempt to ease the forming headache. “i really don’t know what i would have done without you…”
“don’t apologize, i’m happy to help… but i completely understand if you don’t want to see me ever again…” he wasn’t sure why he brought it up when you didn’t even say anything about it, but perhaps he wanted to get the inevitable over with because this conversation would have happened sooner or later.
“what? why would i never want to see you again when you just saved me from my ex?” you asked, genuinely confused as you moved to pour out two glasses of wine and plopped down onto the couch with your head thrown back. “is it because of the claws? i don’t really care about that stuff— i mean wade runs around with at least one knife and gun on him at all times. besides, it’s not like you can’t control them, they only came out because you were trying to protect me…”
“well, yes, but—”
“logan, i really don’t care that you’re a mutant or a former killer or whatever— you’re a superhero who runs around in yellow spandex, fights evil, and is the only one who can get my daughter to sleep most of the time— i trust you.”
“... you do?”
“of course, i do,” you reach out and motion him to join you, leaning against his frame and feeling all of your stress dissipate at the contact. “i trust you with my life and you’ll always have a home here, i want you to know that..”
logan was silent for a moment, trying to remember the last time he heard words along those lines. “i don’t know if you mean that…”
“of course, i do, why wouldn’t i? although…”
“although?”
“i… i don’t think i could handle being just friends for much longer.” you cringed at your own words, sounding like a fucking teenager who was confessing to her first love. something straight out of a cheesy romance movie, or as deadpool would say, straight out of a fanfiction written by a lonely teenager who is trying to move the plot along and finish up. “god, that was so stupid—”
“well, no one said we had to be ‘just friends.’”
you looked at him ludicrously, “really? do you mean that?”
“i mean… if you’re okay with an old man who has adamantium claws in his knuckles…”
“are you okay with a lady who’s a single mom?”
“i think mine is a lot worse than that. sweetheart,” he chuckled, returning to the light-hearted tone. “so… does that mean i can kiss you?” 
you hummed, “of course, you can.”
even with your spoken consent, he still seemed a little hesitant when his hand found its way to the back of your head and he stared deeply into your eyes. his gaze was honestly a bit overwhelming since you’ve never seen anyone else look at you that way before, making you wonder if this was how to felt to be truly desired as a person.
you leaned forward to finish the kiss for him, a quick peck at first, then a deeper one that carried all of the bottled-up feelings from the previous few months. it wasn’t anything too crazy, yet it felt like your very first kiss all over again, clumsy and inexperienced. when you finally separated from him, you pressed your nose against his and giggled, “spend the night?”
“i thought you would never ask.”
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tag list: @natsukitakama @fandomxo00 @wolflover-20 @dannsparrow @honestlysublimecherryblossom @acescutejeans-1247 @burkayyy @hotmesshobbit
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bunnis-monsters · 27 days ago
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A witch and her werewolf Pt1
Male!Werewolf x Fem!Witch Reader
Bunni’s Monstertober Event
Oct 25th
Oct 19
Oct 26
summary: You meet a lone wolf in the woods, and realize he’s more than you thought.
a/n: this is a reskin of a Kurapika x reader fic I wrote, but never got past the first chapter. If you want a continuation, please comment or send me a Kofi.
WK: 5k+
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It was finally spring, a time where flowers bloomed and the snow melted away to reveal all kinds of herbs and plants for the little witch (Name) to gather.
Today she was doing just that, gathering herbs to begin making more potions. Through the winter, her stock of salves and potions had grown smaller and smaller, until she only had a few left.
(Name) had customers that would be coming by any day now to buy her goods, so she was determined to go out and hunt for all the ingredients she would need.
She was a good witch, focusing on healing salves and helping the villagers nearby. It was partially out of the goodness of her heart, and partly because she wanted to keep a good relationship with the townspeople so they didn’t grab their pitchforks and torches to chase her out of town with.
So (Name) grabbed her hat, wearing a thick pair of boots to protect her feet from the thorny vegetation. She was always careful when visiting the forest. After all, there were rumors that many magical beasts made it their home.
Along the path, she spotted small clusters of mint, frowning. “Mint is so invasive, I thought I told the villagers not to plant it in the ground…”
(Name) did her best to dig up and pick what she could, then moved on along the path. Mushrooms, herbs, and pretty rocks all found a new home in her basket. After searching for a while, she wiped the sweat from her brow. ‘Hmm… I should still have some time to go by the lake before I go home… I wonder if anything is growing near the water's edge..?’
(Name) stepped on a branch as she neared the lake, ready to search for aquatic plant life and maybe even find a good spot to go fishing!
But before she could get too close, (Name) heard a loud howl that made her freeze in her tracks. When she turned, she spotted it.
There was a large, golden wolf near the water’s edge, its ears pinned back and snarling. From the water dripping from its furry chin, the witch assumed it had just been drinking from the lake before she interrupted it by making noise.
She was quick to hold up her hands in a sign of surrender, talking in an even voice. “Easy, boy, I’ll go,”
Backing up slowly, (Name) made sure not to meet the wolf’s eyes, though she did notice they were a sparkling shade of scarlet she had never seen before.
The beast huffed, watching her for a moment longer before turning back to drink. Once it did, she broke out in a sprint, her basket held firmly against her chest. (Name) knew the forest wasn’t exactly safe, but she had never encountered a wild animal besides some chipmunks and bunnies.
‘I’ve never seen a wolf with that coloration before…’ (Name) thought, putting away her foraged goods once she arrived home. ‘Maybe it’s an albino or something? But wouldn’t it’s fur be more white then?’
Despite being a little afraid, (Name) couldn’t get her mind off of the wolf she had seen before. It was easily the top predator in the forest, yet it only gave her a warning growl before minding its business again. Was that normal wolf behavior? She had no idea.
‘I’m thinking too much…’ (Name) thought, changing into her pajamas. ‘I need to sleep, or I’ll be late to the coven meeting tomorrow…’
Turning over, (Name) wondered what exactly she would even speak about during the meeting. She wasn’t exactly the most confident witch, often being spoken over or ignored due to her shy nature. No one would think she was the very first apprentice Ania Quell, the head of the very coven (Name) was a part of.
‘I may have been her first apprentice, but I’m definitely not her best. Miles and Gil have me beat for sure…’ she thought, rolling over onto her side to stare out of the window.
Through the gaps in the curtains, she could see the moon shining up above, big and full. It’s light bathed her in a soft glow, and made her feel both rejuvenated and relaxed.
‘It’ll be okay… after all, I have friends there. Everything should… be fine…’
(Name) drifted off to sleep, the last image on her mind before she was taken to slumberland being the golden wolf peering at her with those scarlet eyes.
—————
(Name) packed a small basket full of jams and jellies, humming a tune as she carefully stacked a small jar of syrup on the top. “I know Jill won’t be there today, but Ania loves my jams and jellies. Hopefully I’ll actually have a chance to speak with her…”
Ania, being the head of the coven, was always busy. She was usually stuck talking with several other witches about various topics, or leaving early to conduct business with other covens. Getting the opportunity to talk to her was rare enough, but being able to sit down and have a conversation was nearly impossible, especially these days.
There had recently been several cases of witches and their familiars disappearing, or even familiars turning on their masters and killing them, so Ania was especially busy dealing with the aftermath.
Each witch had a familiar bestowed upon them during a ceremony after becoming a full fledged witch. Some even had two or three, and witches with high status and great power possessed up to 10 familiars.
And there was (Name), with no familiar at all. At the ceremony, the wizard conducting it simply turned her away, saying she was not yet ready to become the master of familiar. Every other witch present had received their lifelong friend, while she went home empty handed.
It was lonely, all on her own. Watching the other witches go about their lives with the help and support of their familiars made her feel awfully… jealous. It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed harboring, so (Name) tried her best to be positive!
Ania herself had said that it wasn’t unheard of for a witch to not receive their familiar during the bonding ceremony.
“Some witches just haven’t found their match yet, or perhaps they haven’t really found their true selves,” Ania had said after the ceremony, in hopes of comforting (Name).
(Name) huffed, loading her basket onto her broom. “So much for being a late bloomer. It’s been nearly five years since I became a full fledged witch, and still nothing! No familiar, not a cat or owl, not even a frog! Hell, I’d settle for a tarantula at this point!”
She flew over the forest, tilting her head when she spotted a spot of gold walking slowly near the lake. (Name) flew a bit lower, her eyes widening when she spotted the same wolf she’d seen the day before.
This time, it seemed to be walking with a bit of a limp, a small trail of blood behind it. Her heart ached to see an animal in such pain, so she landed a safe distance away from it.
“Hey there, pup.”
The wolf stiffened, quickly turning its head to growl lowly at her. (Name) held up her hands, her broom floating behind her in case she needed a quick escape.
“Woah, easy. You’re hurt, and I can help you if you’ll let me.”
She didn’t know why she was talking to it, but she kept it up. “There’s no need to be afraid, sweetheart. Shh…”
The wolf’s ears flattened against its head, and it began to bare its teeth. (Name) yelped when it began to approach her, jumping on her broom just in time to escape its jaws. It snapped at her broom bristles, but she was thankfully in the air by then and bar away enough from its jaws to not get hurt.
But… the wolf didn’t seem to be trying too hard to chase her. (Name) had a feeling it wasn’t actually attacking her, more so just trying to scare her away.
She frowned as the wolf became a small speck, her heart hurting for the poor thing. (Name) hoped that the poachers that her fellow witches had chased out from the forest years ago weren’t back.
‘I’ll have to talk to Ania about it… if I can talk to her that is.’
—————
(Name) landed in a vast meadow, wild flowers of various kinds softly swaying in the spring breeze. She took a moment to relax, bending down to pick a daily and place it in her basket.
‘Oh, I always forget where the doorway is…’ she thought to herself as she held out the stick end of her broom to feel around. When it bumped off of something solid, she grinned.
“There it is!”
(Name) reached forward and patted the surface until her hand landed on a doorknob. She turned it, and walked forward.
The empty flower field was replaced with a dark forested area, with lampposts leading down a snowy, worn down path. She could see the moon shining down through the canopy, filtered by the thick leaves until only small rays of light were visible.
‘I see the meeting is being hosted in the northern lands this time…’ she thought, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. The northern lands were often cold, even when spring came, snow still covered the land.
Each meeting was hosted in one of the four sectors of the world, North, South, East, and West. The north was her least favorite, due to the cold weather and people. The citizens of the north were often blunt and rude, having to time for warm pleasantries.
(Name) lived in the southern lands, where the weather was always warm and pleasant. Even the most severe winters in the south were not as cold as the northern spring.
She spotted the soft warm glow of a candle shining from a canon window. ‘There it is!’
(Name) opened the cabin door, revealing a bustling meeting hall. Witches all ages and genders walked around, speaking to one another and trading goods.
“(Name)!”
The woman yelped when she was tackled to the floor, knowing instantly who had done it.
“Miles, what did I tell you about jumping on her like some wild animal!?”
“Miles, Gil…” she smiled as she watched Gil drag his friend off of her, pinching his cheek.
“Hi, (Name)! It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to see you!”
She laughed, ruffling their hair. “Yeah, nearly three months. You weren’t able to attend the last few meetings due to Ania’s training, right?”
The two shuddered. “Uh… we’d rather not talk about that.”
(Name) could remember her own training, which would have been way less intense than theirs due to her weaker body. Even so, she collapsed nearly every day from exhaustion, so she could only imagine the horrors they had endured.
“Ah… okay, how about you show me how your training has been coming along then?”
The three sat in an empty room as the two showed her new, complex spells they had learned. Gil was able to summon lightning and use it as a weapon, while Miles was able to harden his body. Both were spells even she couldn’t do.
“Oh wow, you’ve grown so much! Maybe that training was worth it then?”
Gil groaned. “Barely, I didn’t think we were going to survive another day of it.”
“Aww, it wasn’t that b- no, actually it was that bad. But I’m still grateful Ania taught us so well!” Miles replied, giving her a smile.
She gave them both a hug. “I’m proud of you both. You should really come visit me sometime. Spring is here, so you can go play in the forest. There a lake~”
This excited the two, who both enjoyed swimming. “We'll definitely be coming by this summer!”
Before they could speak anymore, they heard a bell chiming. “Oh, we’ll talk later. The meeting is about to start!”
(Name) took her seat near Ania. As her first apprentice, she had to be at Ania’s side for every meeting. That didn’t mean she got Ania’s attention, though. She couldn’t blame her mentor, for she was the leader of this coven.
“Hello, my friends. Our monthly meeting has begun, and I will announce any upcoming events before opening the floor for discussion.”
(Name) looked around the room, unsurprised when she saw multiple witches waiting impatiently for the floor to be open.
It was mostly the same elderly witches that always had some mundane problem… but what was surprising was Ember, one of the fledgling witches that hadn’t yet gotten her familiar, anxiously tapping her well manicured nails against the oak table.
“And with that, the floor is open to discussion.” Ania said after finishing her announcements. Ember was quick to speak up, interrupting an elder.
“Some creature has been lurking in the south, killing my father’s livestock and scaring what it doesn’t eat half to death! It’s some kind of magical beast, I already did the identifying spell and it’s either some type of fae or a…”
She trailed off, her face going pale. Ania raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “A what, Ember?”
“A… a werewolf.”
The sound of gasps and whispered conversation filled the meeting hall, only silenced when Ania held up her hand to motion for the noise to cease.
“And you’re sure that’s what the spell said?”
Ember nodded, standing up to offer her grimoire. Ania’s eyes scanned it, then she sighed heavily. “I see…”
(Name) frowned deeply, glancing from ember to Ania. She knew that Ember lived only half a day’s walk from her home, meaning if there was a werewolf causing trouble for her, it could potentially move onto (Name).
“As we all know, magical beasts are drawn to witches due to their magical power. This is good when it comes to making friends or getting a familiar, but leads to some… detrimental outcomes when the wrong creature gets attracted. And with the recent uptick in werewolf based attacks, I wouldn’t doubt this has troubled you, Ember.”
Ania stood, walking around the table. “But be that as it may, werewolves are not evil in nature. They are simply beings that are different from us, and can be reasoned with and befriended just like most magical beasts.”
One witch scoffed. “Miss Ania, with all due respect, all witches know werewolves are dangerous beasts that deserve to be put down to keep ourselves safe. I mean, haven’t the last three witch deaths been caused by werewolves?”
Ania scowled. “That’s the kind of attitude that causes entire species to go extinct. A few werewolves have done wrong, yes, but how many humans have killed each other or other creatures? Do we all deserve to die due to the actions of a few individuals?”
The witch who spoke up immediately shrunk into herself, grumbling under her breath. (Name) noticed that several other witches also looked displeased with Ania’s words, but said nothing.
“Ember, I’ll send you home with a spell that will ward off any fae or werewolves. It’s easy, and very effective.”
“Thank you, Ania!”
The woman turned to the rest of the coven. “Now, what else needs to be discussed?”
———————-
“I respect Miss Ania’s opinion, but werewolves are dangerous beasts!”
“I know, right? My friend’s cousin’s aunt’s stepbrother was killed by a werewolf!”
“And I heard that once a werewolf has seen you, it’ll tell its whole pack to come and eat you!”
“Oh that’s not the half of it! I heard-“
(Name) rolled her eyes as she passed by a group of gossiping witches, ushering Gil and Miles away. “Don’t listen to them, I’m sure not a single one of them have ever even seen a werewolf in person.”
“Have you, (Name)?”
(Name) paused when Miles asked her that innocent question, sighing softly. “Yes, once before. It was only for a moment while Ania went to meet with one for a trade. It gave her some of its fur for a potion in exchange for a protection spell.”
“So… it didn’t attack you or Ania?”
“Nope, so don’t listen to those witches. Not one single creature is the exact same as its kin. Some are more peaceful, some are violent, just like with humans. Once people come to accept that, we could possibly form an alliance with the werewolves.”
Gil huffed, digging in her satchel. Once he found what he was looking for, a bag of handmade candy, he swiped it. “Hey, you remembered to bring it!”
“Of course I did, silly. It’s your favorite.”
Gil popped one of the candies into his mouth as they walked, humming in delight. Miles grabbed one too. “Did you get to talk to Ania, (Name)?”
The woman sighed, handing out her jam and syrup to a few witches she traded with. “Not yet, but I hope I’ll be able to catch her before she leaves. You know Ania, she’s always busy.”
“You’re not wrong, but today I have a little bit of time to spare.”
The three jumped when they heard Ania’s voice from behind them. “Ania!”
(Name) jumped into her arms, easily being held up by the seemingly young looking girl. Everyone in the coven knew that Ania was much older than she seemed, but little knew of her immense physical strength.
“Oh, (Name) my dear, you’ve gotten a bit bigger haven't you? It feels like just yesterday I was carrying you home from the orphanage and giving you your first wand.”
“A-Ania! That’s embarrassing…”
The woman laughed, setting (Name) down. “Alright, alright… what is it you wanted to talk about, dear?”
(Name) gave Ania a shy smile, handing her the jams and jellies she brought for her. “I wanted to give you these and ask how the situation with the rogue familiars has been going.”
Ania stiffened, glancing at the two boys before digging. “Come, (Name). Let’s discuss things in private.”
With a wave of her wand, (Name) and Ania were transported to a vacant room. Ania made sure the door was closed before beginning to speak in a hushed voice.
“I didn’t want to scare anyone, so I’ve been keeping some of the information private. But…” she sighed, looking out the window, into the snow. “Every single familiar that attacked their witch was a werewolf.”
(Name)’s blood ran cold at the revelation, her eyes widening as Ania turned to meet her gaze. “Every single one? That’s…”
“Unusual, I know. Werewolves in and of themselves are rare to have as a familiar because they’re reluctant to be bound to a witch… so the fact that each familiar was a werewolf is suspicious.”
“What could be the motive? I find it hard to believe a familiar would just kill its master like that! In all of witch history, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Ania opened her own grimoire. “I agree with you, it is hard to believe. But the detection spell pointed to each familiar being a werewolf. We have yet to find and question any of the suspects due to them fleeing the scene once the bond to their master was broken…”
(Name) frowned deeply. “And with what Ember said today, if this news got out, the entire coven will be in hysterics. There will be werewolf hunts and-“
“That’s why they can’t find out. You are the only person outside of my trusted inner circle that knows of this, (Name).”
She looked at Ania, confused. “But why would you tell me, Ania? I’m not as strong or intelligent as others, so why would you give me this information and not someone more qualified?”
Ania smiled at that, chuckling. “That, I cannot say my dear. You are destined for great things, and I just want you to be informed so when it’s time for you to make decisions… you’ll have all the information you need to make the right choice.”
“That’s really cryptic, Ania.”
The older woman only smiled, beckoning her to follow. “Come, I must take my leave. Let’s walk and talk.”
The two continued to chat as they walked towards the entrance of the cabin. “I’ll send you home with a spell, dear. It is quite late in the southerners sector by now, hmm?”
(Name) nodded, grabbing hold of her broom.
“Oh, and (Name)?”
She looked up as Ania raised her wand. “Yes?”
“Kindness and patience is always key.”
With that, she was sent home. She appeared in her cottage, the fire lighting the second she stepped close.
“I wonder what she meant by that…”
———————
(Name) brushed off her dress, staring out into the forest. She really had to go back into the forest to gather supplies… but she was worried she would encounter that wolf again.
With a sigh, she pocketed her wand and carried her broom. They were just there in case she sensed any danger. Unfortunately, she wasn’t great with defensive or attack spells, it was why she took to healing magic and concoctions instead.
But she knew a few illusion spells that may buy her some time to escape… hopefully those would work.
(Name) walked along the work down path, much more alert than usual. She listened for the sounds of the forest, making sure to listen for any branches snapping or leaves rustling.
She was able to make it back to the lake with no problems, sighing in relief. There, she unloaded her jars from her basket and began placing shells, underwater plantlife, and some of the nutrient rich soil to add to her garden.
Unbeknownst to her, she was being watched from a distance, a pair of scarlet eyes following her as she walked along the lake’s edge.
Once she finished, (Name) was surprised to see the wolf with the golden coat standing only a few meters away from her. Although it growled when she moved, it showed no other signs of aggression, only watching her… as if it was curious.
“Hello, again…” (Name) said softly, staying still as it approached. She kept her hand in her pocket on her wand, but began to relax. It only circled her, chuffing when it moved behind her.
She tensed, but relaxed again when it appeared on her left side. It was inspecting her, sniffing her… was that normal behavior for a wild animal?
Its scarlet eyes focused on her, and she noticed it still had that slight limp when it walked. “Are you… injured?”
As if it could understand her, the creature tensed, the fur on its back rising. “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you…”
Taking a chance, she slowly reached out her hand to place it on its head. She had a connection with animals, having rehabilitated many woodland creatures. A wolf couldn’t be that different, right?
Well, she was wrong. The beast growled before snapping its jaws at her hand, barely missing her fingers. It then ran away, slower than it usually would be due to its injured paw.
Her heart hurt from the sight. Had it been trying to ask her for help? It was possible the poor thing was someone’s pet that had been let go after learning how hard it was to take care of a wolf. Maybe that’s why it was both comfortable around humans and also weary of them?
(Name) made a decision that day. She would gain that wolf’s trust, and maybe… even make it her familiar.
———————
As the days turned into weeks, (Name) visited the forest every day she could. She saw the wolf often, sometimes from the corner of her eye, and sometimes it came in direct contact with her.
She always sat patiently, letting it come to her. (Name) had learned her lesson, and eventually she was able to sit in silence with the wolf by her side as she did mundane tasks like cleaning out her jars or sewing by the lake.
It had yet to let her touch it, but she didn’t mind. She would get it to trust her… it needed medical attention, more than she thought. It was scrawny, hungry looking, as if it was having trouble hunting by itself.
She started bringing out raw meat from the market and leaving it by the lake for it, and when its condition started to improve slowly, she knew that it was eating.
Once she started feeding it, the wolf began trusting her a great deal more. It now followed her down the pathway when she walked home, a slight sway in its tail.
She was making great progress, and the two seemed to have a mutual trust that neither would hurt the other. Every time she came to the lake, it was waiting there for her. It would eat, then sit nearby as she did what she needed to do, then walked her home. It had become her routine.
That’s why it surprised her when it wasn’t there when she came.
“Pup?”
(Name) called for it, patting her thigh and whistling. Usually it would have come to greet her by now…
The silence in the forest was almost eerie, as if everything was holding its breath. There was no birdsong, no squirrels skittering from tree to tree… just silence.
“Something is wrong…”
It was growing dark, and she was hurrying back as quickly as she could. (Name) had heard from some other forest dwelling witches that when the sounds of the forest stopped, that meant there was a large predator around, something that made the squirrels and birds hide in fear.
Had the wolf gone into hiding too?
She didn’t have to wonder for long. As she neared her cottage, her eyes widened in horror. There were bloodied paw prints leading down the stone path to her front door, and laying on her doorstep was the golden wolf.
It panted loudly, its fur matted with blood. (Name) immediately kneeled at its side, trying to hold back tears. The injured paw was stuck in a bear trap, and it had gashed on its belly and back… as if it had been attacked with a knife…
When it growled at her touch, she simply shushed it. “Shh, shh, I’m here. You came to my home for a reason, right? I can help you…”
Although it still snarled and yelped as she hoisted it into her home with great effort, it made no attempts to sink its teeth into her flesh.
As soon as it was inside, she summoned as many bandages as she could, along with a metal bar to help her pry the bear trap off.
“This is going to hurt, pup. Don’t bite me…”
The wolf laid its head down, as if telling her it trusted her to help. It growled and snarled in pain as she pried open the bear trap. Once its paw was free, she examined the damage.
His paw was barely hanging on… thankfully she focused on healing magic. She was able to reattach his paw and clean the wound, bandaging it before moving onto the gashes on his body.
(Name) collapsed in exhaustion after hours of working on the wolf. Her efforts had paid off, as it was now sleeping peacefully by the fire.
‘At least one of us is able to sleep…’ she thought, rising from the couch to wash the blood from her hands. She exhausted all of her magic saving the wolf’s life, which worried her slightly. That meant if it were to attack for any reason, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.
After much thought, she realized that even if it wanted to hurt her, it would be unable. The thing couldn’t stand, much less leap out and attack her, so she decided to sleep next to it… just to watch over it, of course… the fact that it was so soft and warm had nothing to do with it…
———————-
(Name) woke up in the early hours of the morning, the sun not even up yet. She could have only been asleep for a few hours, as the fire was still going…
She sat up, yawning and rubbing her eyes… but paused when she took a second look at the fire.
She hasn’t remembered putting that second log in the fireplace… before she slept, she had even cursed herself for not doing so.
(Name) felt a chill run up her spine and immediately turned to see if the wolf was okay… but instead of seeing its beautiful golden fur and large form, she was met with something much smaller hidden under the blanket…
Smaller, but still bigger than her, whatever it was wriggled the second she spoke. “U-um…”
She expected the wolf to perhaps be some kind of magical beast that turned into something smaller when injured to conserve power… and she wasn’t that far off.
When she pulled back the blanket, instead of a furred creature, she came face to face with a handsome… man?
“… hello…”
For finding a man in the place of the injured wolf she saved, (Name) took the situation well. And by well, she screamed and scooted away, wielding her wand.
“W-who are you and what did you do to that wolf!? Are you some kind of poacher? A pervert? A poaching pervert!?”
The person squinted at her, sighing. “No… I’m neither of those… I-“
He winced in pain, whimpering as the blanket fell around him. (Name)’s eyes went wide as she saw the bandages decorating his form, the same ones she had applied to the wolf last night…
The things that finally clued her in were the wolf ears perched atop of his blonde head, and tail limp on his back.
“Y-you’re…”
“A werewolf…” he muttered, his ears flattening against his head. “You… helped me, and… I understand if you no longer want to help now that you know what I am. I simply ask that… you let me recover until I am able to move…”
She swallowed, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter what you are. You’re hurt, and I won’t let you suffer.”
The man looked on in mild shock as she helped him onto the couch. “This should be more comfortable… I’ll need to redo your bandages soon…”
The man watched her work silently. She redressed his wounds with a skill that was uncommon for women in their era. Once she was done, it was only then that her eyes trailed down his torso to look for anything else that she may have missed when his thick fur was in the way…
“Oh.”
Her face warmed, her eyes going wide.
He was completely and utterly nude, barely covering his groin with the blanket. His wolf ear twitched as she turned away, flustered.
‘I forgot, werewolves lose their clothing when they turn…’
For now, she simply covered him with a blanket, too tired to do anything else. With that, she left him to sleep on the couch and headed to bed.
‘What am I going to do? There’s a werewolf on my couch, right after Ember mentioned one eating her livestock. Is it the same one..? Could it… be connected to the familiars going rogue?’
She sighed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. ‘Well, whatever the case is, it’s my responsibility now. I decided to save its life, and I don’t regret it. Once it’s back to full health, I’ll think of what to do…’
With that decided, she drifted off to sleep, exhausted from her long day.
———————
In the living room, the werewolf stared up at the ceiling, his head filled with the images of the events he had been through.
‘I thought they lost my trail… those damn poachers will do anything to complete their collection…’
His heart ached to think of his pack, their coats skinned from their bodies after they were forced to transform and fight each other for their captors’ amusement. It made his blood boil to think of how scared the pups must have been, how the elders must have died comforting them with their final breaths, just for all of their words to mean nothing in the end.
He hated humans and their endless lust for money and power. For years he had avoided human contact, staying in his wolf form and attacked anyone that came near in fear of being hurt again…
That was until he met her.
Even before they officially met, he had been stalking her through the woods for months. At first, he had planned on killing her and taking over her cabin for himself. In his mind, it was only fair. Humans killed and stole from nature every single day, honestly he thought he was doing the world a favor taking one of them out.
But (Name) wasn’t like other humans. Every day, he watched her take only what she needed, and left behind gifts for the fairies and animals. She tended to the wounded creatures and made sure she never overstayed her welcome.
It would be dishonest to say he liked her, but she was the closest thing to tolerable a human could get in his eyes. So when he met her, he found himself unable to hurt her.
Though at first he kept his distance and attempted to bite her if she strayed too close, he never intended to actually hurt her. If he wanted to, he could have easily tore into her throat and feasted on her flesh… but he didn’t.
This human, this girl had become something akin to a friend to him. Despite his hatred for her kind, he couldn’t help following after her and staying by her side. It felt soothing, safe… almost familiar in a way. It reminded him of when he was just a pup and would follow behind his mother while she hunted or gathered ingredients for dinner.
So when he was attacked by the very poachers that killed his family, he escaped with only one thing in mind.
‘I have to find her!’
He followed her scent, barely dragging his wounded hide to her home and collapsing on the front step. He never would have thought that he would trust a human to help him, not after what he had been put through.
Even now, as he laid there powerless and unable to move, his mind was still conflicted. Was this really okay? Could he truly rely on this human to tend to him when he was utterly defenseless?
‘It doesn’t really look like I have much of a choice…’
Winning his trust would not be easy, but if she could… (Name) would gain a loyal companion.
Only time could tell what would become of these two…
—————————
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