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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 4 months ago

Note

Hello! I would like to make a request about Dae-Ho, a character I love. I would like the story to show how Dae-Ho and the reader develop a special connection during the games, despite being on opposite sides. She is part of Thanos' team, but they still interact frequently. On one of those nights, they kiss and promise to get to know each other better once it's all over. However, that promise is not fulfilled because she dies in the carousel game.

I hope this story fits the bill. Happy holidays! <3

Anything Is Possible?

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- You are number 230's, rapper Choi Su-bong, sister. Just because you are on 'Thanos Team', does that mean you can Dae-Ho cant get together? Will you survive long enough?

Warnings- Squid Games, Angst, mentions of blood, murder, and death

A/N- I combined this ask with another anon request, "badass reader and daeho! maybe she is related to 100 and that's why the romance is kind of forbidden but she doesn't agree with his actions and thinks daeho is very cute. I would love a first kiss between the two, which she initiated and he was all embarrassed but really excited" I hope y'all don't mind, they were very similar!

Word Count- 4,605

"What is your problem!" You found yourself yelling at your brother. While this was not uncommon, the situation surely was. Thanos the rapper, or just known as Choi Su-bong to you, had pushed several people down on purpose. This killed them in the Red light, Green light game.

"You killed them!" You continued, though he did not seem to care.

"Look, as far as 'The Thanos' is concerned, each body means more cash for MOI!" He spoke, uncaring.

"Oh, and if it was me, would you let me get shot!" You crossed your arms, eyeing him up and down.

He looked around, checking for any guards. He then slipped out his cross form under his shirt. You knew he had some kind of drug in there.

"Look, if it will shut you up, you can have one. But keep your mouth closed!" He ushered his cross in your direction. You rolled your eyes.

"I'd like to at least be aware of my surrounding in a death defying game!" "Shhh, Shhhh!" His face scrunched up as he looked at you, offended. He thought someone might have been drawn to your choice words.

You scoffed and walked off, sitting on the edge of a bed to catch a train of thought.

With a puff, you pressed your head into your hands. Could you really go on like this? Risking your life? Then it hit you, your life was over either way. Loan sharks were bound to kill you the second you left... Might as well go out with a bang?

The gruesome thought lingered until you felt the bed sink next to you.

"Thanos, I don't want to-" You looked up to not see your brother. Instead a man with a '388' on his jacket.

"Well I'm not sure who 'Thanos' is, but are you doing okay?" He looked genuinely concerned.

You started at him for a second, "Like fifty people just died..."

He faltered, "W-well yeah... Obviously you aren't okay... I just, I saw you arguing with that guy... The one with purple hair." You sigh again at his response. Well, this might be the last conversation you ever have. Why not be an open book!

"That's my brother. He thinks since he got one hit song, he can boss anyone around." You again rolled your eyes at the thought of him.

"Oh... I see. I-I have three older sisters, I know how it can get." He said, trying to offer you some sort of condolence.

You gave a side smile at him, appreciative of his efforts. "Thanks... What got you into these games?" You figured there's no reason for 'proper exchanges.' What was the point anymore?

He seemed ashamed at the question. "Sorry, if it makes you feel any better- I'm about 30 million won in debt. Some online crypto coin my brother swindled me into. Lost big time." You explained.

He shook his head, "No, no, its fine. See, I was a marine. Couldn't find a job after I got out. Guess I just got carried away with the wrong people... Got into some bad loans."

You gave a sympathetic face. "That sucks..." He just nodded sheepishly.

A silence fell between you two, but it wasn't awkward or annoying. It just...was.

"Well, uh, which are you going to vote?" He asked like it had been on the tip of his tongue all day.

As the Guards had told us earlier, we would get a chance to vote before the next game. Stay or Go.

"My brother seems pretty adamant on staying... And I honestly don't think it would be smart to piss him off anymore. He's got me in his little clique already." You didn't really know which one you would have chosen if the vote was anonymous.

He nodded in understanding. "I mean, I don't have a groupie or anything. But, you could stick with me if you wanted."

Your heart fluttered. Looking up at him, you seemed to just notice how handsome he was... Then reality hit.

"I deeply appreciate that... But I think you might have better odds without me. Choi- uh Thanos, would probably do something to you... I don't really want to risk it, I'm sorry." You knew that you really did want to be on his team, but you also knew how your brother was.

He had a slight look of defeat on his face, "I get it. I feel confident about the next game. I mean, if they're all children games, how hard can it be? I'll vote the same as you."

You agreed, "Then, maybe I can talk to Thanos? See if he wants another member?" You smiled at him.

He opened his mouth to speak, happily, but the two of you were interrupted when the pink guards came back in. Letting everyone know it was time to vote.

"See ya on the other side." You said, standing up to rejoin Thanos. Plus his newly acquired group of 3.

"Yes ma'am!" He responded, giving a small salute. You just laughed as you glanced at him a last time.

------------------------------------------

"Are you crazy!" Thanos whisper-yelled at you, turning the two of you away from the group. "Are you tryna embarrass me in front of my boys!" He scolded you like a child. His arms and shoulders going up.

"It's not that big of a deal, he was a marine, he could be good for us." Thanos just "tsked' in response.

"No. We are already perfecto. No more room." He said as-a-matter-of-fact. His arms making an 'X.'

You turned and looked at the two men staring at you. "Thanos, there are four of us in total. What if the next game is five players!"

"Huh, and what if its four! Then I'd be pushing YOU out, Cause of ya mouth." He made faces at you, then laughed loudly. "I'm just joking sistah! I'd only do that if you really pissed me off.... We are sticking to four." His expression turned serious.

"Fine."

At a mere coincidence, you turned around and saw '388' staring at you. You mouthed a 'sorry' and shook your head. Signalling Thanos said 'no.'

He nodded, then smiled at you anyways. At that, you watched him walk over and sit with a group of 'X's.

------------------------------------------

The lights soon went out. You laid back in your bed, trying to get some kind of sleep. It was useless, especially when you heard a 'psst' right next to you.

You turned your head, playing cool, even though it did startle you a bit. "Shh, It's just me." The voice rang familiar, and when you squinted your eyes in the dark your made out number 388's face. He was on his knees, crouched down next to your bed.

"What are you doing!" You whispered at him, sitting up quickly. Thanos and his two members were just a bed away.

"Shhhh, I have something to tell you." He said, his hands were waving slightly, a nervous tick.

You eyed him, moving closer. "What?"

"One of the guys has played these before. He said he won the games...That he knows which one is next."

Your hands rise to rub sleep from your eyes, "Really? You think he's telling the truth?"

With a frantic nod he continues, "It was the guy who knew about the Red light, Green light. Number 456."

You looked down, "Why are you telling me this..." You questioned, unaware of any kind of unconditional kindness.

"I want you to survive, why else?" You locked eyes with him. They were honest and pure.

"Well, what's the next game?" You didn't know how to respond to such generosity. For all he knew you would stab him in the back. Not that you could bring yourself to, not after he snuck over to tell you.

"He said its Dalgona. Ya know, the game where you scratch out the candy shape?" You knew the game, having played it in your youth.

"Make sure you pick the Triangle. It's the easiest one." You nodded.

At that, a shuffle made both of you turn your head. Thanos moved in his sleep, rolling over. His eyes were closed, but he was now facing you.

"You better go, in case he wakes up." You warned, not wanting any drama.

His head shook in agreeance, he raised to walk off.

"Wait!" You whispered, he looked back. "What's your name?"

"Dae-Ho. Dae-ho Kang."

"Thank you, Dae-ho..." The corners of your face rose, almost grinning at yourself saying his name.

He gave a small wave of his hand, another salute. You suppressed a giggle, and laid back down. Sleep came easier this time...

------------------------------------------

"Welcome to your second game, this game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes."

You looked around, Dalgona was not a team game. Had Dae-Ho lied to you? No, why else would he sneak over in the middle of the night. It didn't make sense. Maybe 456 was lying?

"Should have listened to me, now we have to find another person." You remarked to your brother, smugly.

"Trust trust, my skeptic sister. Thanos has got this under control!" He spoke about himself, immediately levitating to the closest attractive women. You, once again, found yourself rolling your eyes.

"Señorita, excuse me?" You wanted to physically face palm at his attempt at a pickup line.

------------------------------------------

Quickly enough, time selection was up. Everyone was orderly sat in their groups. Conveniently, Dae-Ho and his group sat behind you.

"Dae-Ho." You called, moving to be in his range of sight.

"Ahh, hey!" He said, excitedly. His demeanor changing from skittish when he saw you.

"So, what happened to Dalgona?" You asked, not blaming him- just curious.

He gave an unsure face, equally as confused. "He said the games must not be the same. I'm sorry."

"What for?" You beamed, knowing it was not his fault.

He laughed, "I guess I don't know.."

You just shook your head humorously. "Which game are you going to do?"

"Uhmm, Gong-Gi... My sister's played it a lot, so I'm used to it."

"They've got me doing spinning top. I was never any good at Gong-Gi." You made a glance to Thanos, he was high out of his mind. You caught him slipping Nam-Gyu a pill. He didn't notice you talking to Dae-Ho.

"I wish you the best of luck!" He gave a quick bow of the head.

------------------------------------------

The game went smoothly enough. Though, it took much longer than Red light, Green light. Watching all of the teams go one at a time was excruciating.

A handful of words exchanged with Dae-Ho while waiting was calming, it grounded you. He had nothing to gain by helping you, he simply did. It was flattering.

You and Dae-Ho had figured out that his team was going last. It was nerve-wracking to think about him not making it. No one had ever effected you like this before...

Eventually your team went, suffering frequent verbal degration from Thanos and Nam-Gyu. Thankfully your team made it with 8 seconds to spare. Too close for your comfort.

The worst part came when you had to wait. You felt like you could hear a large clock ticking right by your ear.

Would Dae-Ho's team make it? You didn't doubt his Gong-Gi skills, but he was dependent on the skills of his team mates as well. It was terrifying to think they were shot with not enough time to complete the games.

You couldn't bare Thanos bantering, he complained about every survivor. It just made you more paranoid about Dae-Ho's possible death.

Trying to settle your mind, you stepped away from your group, preferring to sit by yourself on the edge on the steps. You picked at your nails, praying he would make it.

Minutes and minutes went by. No one had come out in a while. Was the game finished? Did they die?

Just as you were about to return to your brother hopeless, one last group appeared.

A gasp left you as you watched Dae-Ho's team emerge. You stood up, cheering with a handful of other players. Your hands were clasped gleefully In front of you.

Dae-Ho's gaze was fixed on you, he chuckled. His first raised in victory.

You gave him a salute back.

------------------------------------------

You managed to slip away from Thanos. He was too busy hitting on Se-Mi. You were grateful for her, it took some of the pressure and attention off of you. You had to remember to thank her later.

"Dae-Ho!" You called out, he turned around and stepped away from his group.

"You were amazing! You went 'Wooshhh' and got the top first try!" He was practically bouncing on his heels. He mimicked the process of spinning a top with his hands and body.

"Thank you, Thank you." You pretended like you were bowing to an applauding audience.

"How did Gong-Gi go?" You asked, antsy. He rubbed the back on his neck.

He grinned deep, "Would you believe me if I said I got it first try too?"

Your face lit up, "Really!"

"I swear it!" He placed a hand across his chest.

You gave a quick clap to him, "I knew you could do it!"

You felt like a schoolgirl again. Talking to Dae-Ho made you feel like a blushing bride. He was such a ray of light and hope for you.

"What do you think the next game is?" He questioned, taking a seat on a step by the large doors.

You thought for a second, "I don't know, Maybe some kind of mind game. Since the last two have been really physical."

He nodded, "Yeah, maybe, maybe. Thats smart thinking."

You joined him on the step facing him. While you were about to change the conversation, you overheard a few people talk about what they were voting next. It reminded you of the real life-or-death situation you were in.

"So, d'ya think you're going to change your vote?" You became more solemn.

"...Yeah, I just... The others have convinced me. I mean, truly, I shouldn't have voted 'stay' in the first place..." He looked down, almost as if he had disappointed you.

"Honestly, Dae-Ho... I want to leave too... But, but, what if I press 'leave', and we still have to continue the games. Then Thanos would be pissed, and deep down I need him. He's still my brother." You hated the fact, but you were scared of what Thanos would do.

Dae-Ho thought for a moment. He mumbled something you didn't quite catch. "What?" He stood up.

"I can protect you. Honest. With my life." Your breath hitched, you stood up as well.

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. "Oh Dae-Ho... That's just the thing. I can't have you risking your life. Not for me."

He gently lifted your hands into his. "You are worth risking my life for."

"Dae-Ho, you don't even know my name." Your voice quivered.

He nodded quick, "Then lets change that. What's your name." You bit your bottom lip before telling him.

"Now, I can defend you from Thanos. He won't do anything to do." He ended with your name, it sounded angelic coming from his mouth.

"I'm sorry... I just... can't." You let go of his hands, fully set on walking away. But, he stopped you. He grasped your shoulder.

"Please don't go. I'll stop talking about it, I swear." He pleaded. He truly just wanted to be with you, he was content with you.

And you were with him.

You closed your eyes, shook your head. You fought off any kind of objection. "Okay."

The two of you talked and talked, time ran past. You no longer seemed to worry about the games, just that you knew you wanted to stay with Dae-Ho.

Until, the large doors opened and the pink guards once again announced a vote.

You said a quick 'goodbye' to Dae-ho, hoping the games wouldn't continue. Even if you never saw him again, at least he would be alive.

------------------------------------------

Much to your dismay, the games would continue another round. The vote wasn't even close this time. It was almost relieving, knowing that your vote was not the determining factor.

Once again, the lights went out to signify the night. You noticed teams were huddling together for protection, taking shifts and keeping watch. It was getting more serious as each hour went by. You could not find rest, feeling extremely uneasy.

While you tried to find some sort of reassurance in Thanos, he was fast asleep. You decided to take your chance and go see Dae-Ho. Just as he had done for you.

You knew the general area where his group was, but couldn't make out specific people in the dark. Not from your distance.

You racked up the nerve to quietly shuffle over. Your socks helping to muffle any noise.

"Shh, someone is coming." You heard a man whisper, it was 456. You could see the large numbers next to the 'O' on his jacket.

"I-is Dae-Ho with you..." You ask, shakily.

"And what do you want with him?" A man next to 456 spoke, defensively.

"I- Hes my friend, I need to talk to him." You tried, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, Sure he is. You're probably trying to get in and take one of us out, huh!" The man 390 rose, acting like he was ready to fight.

You stepped back, "No, really, I swear I'm not!"

You heard your name, a confused Dae-Ho crawled out from under a bed. "Dae-Ho, please tell them in not trying to kill any of you."

"What?" He was still weary from sleep, rubbing his eyes. Once he saw the position you and 390 were in, He quickly stepped between the two of you.

"No, No, she wouldn't do that. Really, whatever shes saying she's telling the truth." Dae-Ho came to your rescue.

"Can we talk Dae-Ho?" You stepped closer to him, both of your hands gently resting on his arm. He nodded rapidly, stepping away from his group.

The two of you found a cluster of abandoned beds, and sat on the floor between them

"Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?" He looked you over for any visible infliction's.

"No, no I'm fine..." You pulled your knees to your chest. "I just wanted to see you." You felt silly once it left your lips.

His face flushed beet red, you could even tell in the dark. His hair falling in his face made you reach a hand out and brush it back. "O-oh"

"You never told me what you think the next game is, Dae-Ho." You needed a distraction.

He shook his head, like he was getting some thoughts out. "I have no idea... I just hope its an easy one. Gi-Hun, uh 456, said that they've already played Tug-of-war, Marbles, and some kind of glass stepping game. So, uh, I would assume none of those would repeat."

"I'm glad I missed Tug-of-war... That would mean the number of survivors would be half..." You thought.

He changed the subject, beginning with your name. "What's wrong? I know you said you wanted to see me, but, I guess I don't understand why."

"Dae-Ho, I don't really know why either. I just, wanted to be with you. I feel safe with you. I feel like I'm alone anytime you walk away..." You blinked away a stray tear.

Dae-Ho was lost in thought, he had thought his feelings weren't reciprocated. Maybe they were after all?

He didn't have time to speak, because you have lounged yourself forward in a burst of confidence. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pushed him to the floor. He was laid on his back with you on top of him, as you pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

His eyes widened, his body went rigid. When you pulled away to look at him, he stammered. "I-I, Uhm."

At his reaction you pulled away quickly, "I'm so sorry, I thought-"

"Can you please do that again." He was now giddy, a fat smile on his face. Excitement radiated out of him. "A-are you sure.. You seemed so..."

"No, no, you just caught me off guard, please, please kiss me again." He scrambled to a sit, hoping you would come closer again.

With a refound joy, you moved closer. This time you went slow, making sure to bask in the moment. You once again wrapped your arms around Dea-Ho's neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

"You're perfect.." He mumbled against your lips. Though, he felt something wet on his face. He pulled away, his eyes soft, "Whats wrong?"

You sniffled, "Promise me. Promise me, that after everything is over, that we will find each other." You asked, pressing your cheek against his.

"I swear it, I swear we will meet after the games." He leaned in for another kiss.

------------------------------------------

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

Okay, this one seemed safe. You had a large group, this can work. You tried to be positive, you had someone to look forward to after the game.

"Heyyy, we'll be mingling together. Doesn't that sound like so much fun?" Thanos went on, trying to hype everyone up. The only one who was just as high as him was Nam-Gyu. It worried you that he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, but at least he wasn't on your tail about everything.

"Please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

You nodded, understanding the rules. Everyone gathered to the platform. You noticed groups staying together, huddling close.

While following Thanos, you passed Dae-Ho's group, you caught his eye and gave him a small salute. It seemed the two of you now had an inside joke.

"Let the game, begin."

At the jump and pull of the platform, you almost lost your balance. You reached a hand out and held onto your brother. He looked over at you, for a split second he actually seemed like your brother. He was there for you.

That's until a muffled snort came from Nam-Gyu. Thanos pushed your hand off, laughing at you.

You sighed and thought of a smart remark, but the platform stopped spinning and a 'Ten' rang out.

Thanos laughed loudly, "We needa four!!" He screamed, shaking his face all about.

"Were four!" A man yelled back, and Thanos took off running. Your eyes widened and you ran after him. "Run, Hurry!" You yelled at Se-Mi, who had stopped to grab Min-Su.

Luckily everyone had made it to the room, just as the door shut the timer went off. The door locked shut. You peaked out of the doors small slit. You didn't see Dae-Ho. A good sign.

Multiple gunshots rang out, each making your body jolt.

"Ha Ha! My family! We did it!" Thanos bantered, clapping some of the men on their backs.

When the doors finally opened again, you looked around. You looked and looked for Dae-Ho. Finally sighing in relief when you saw him. He ran over to you.

"You're okay, thank God!" He hugged you, you held him tight.

You swallowed hard, "It's not over yet. I'll find you after the next round!" You said, quickly finding Thanos again.

"Yeahhhh! Easyyy!" Him and Nam-Gyu joked back and forth. They started dancing to the music as the platform started rotating again.

'Four'

Thanos stopped and looked at his group for a minute. "Gyeong-su, you're with me!" He grabbed his hand, pulling him.

"Damn!" Nam-Gyu said, gripping your arm and pulling you. While you were happy to be chosen, you were worried for Min-su and Se-Mi.

"Lets goooo!" Thanos yelled once we were all in the room.

"Thanos what was that! Gyeong-su over me!" You pointed your finger at him.

"I swear I thought I was pulling you! Besides, you gotta stop running your mouth. You made it, you're fine!"

You couldn't believe what he was saying. Sure, he talked a lot about leaving you. But it was always just talk? Right?

The door opened once again, you were thankful to be away from Thanos. Your new objective was to find Dae-Ho now.

This time, the second you saw him- you ran to him. You no longer cared about what Thanos thought, nor what he'd do.

"I'm so happy to see you." Dae-Ho mumbled into your hair, which his face had been shoved into right after you ran into his arms.

"I have to stay with you, Thanos tried to leave me. I can't make it with him." Dae-Ho didn't hesitate, and pulled you over to his group.

Though, Thanos didn't like that. "Yo, brotha. What're you doing with my sister!" He tried to shove Dae-Ho, but he was bigger and stronger.

The platform started to spin.

"Leave her alone, you obviously cant take care of your sister." He ushered you behind him.

"I don't know what you're talking about bro! I save her, shes only alive because of me and Nam-Gyu!" He argued, leaving out the crucial part of information where he wasn't the one who grabbed you.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I will keep her safe now, you can mind your own business and get along with Nam-Gyu."

They continued to yell and argue over the carousel's music, it was difficult to hear them. Until,

'Three'

Thanos gripped one of your arms, Dae-Ho held another.

"Thanos, let go!" You yelled, trying to pull from his grasp.

It was chaotic, screaming was heard around you. "Dae-Ho, this way!" Two men yelled out, Dae-Ho twisted his head but didn't move.

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't be the reason Dae-Ho would die. You were all running out of time.

"Dae-Ho, go. Please! I'll go with Thanos and Nam-Gyu!"

"I'm not leaving you!" He was adamant about protecting you. Damned everyone else.

"If you don't go, we will all die. Time is running out!" Dae-Ho battled internally, you let go of his hand.

"Go! It's okay, I'll see you in a minute!"

He didn't want to leave, he couldn't. But you made him. When he slowly walked backwards, you let out a relived sigh. You then turned to run with Thanos. Nam-Gyu was already in a room, his yelling ushering you two forward.

It was going to be okay, The three of you in a room. Everything was fine. There was time.

Until, Nam-Gyu moved out of the way... Gyeong-su was behind him... There was already two in the room. Thanos ran in, not thinking twice.

Your running came to a stop right outside of the door. Where Thanos himself had closed it on you.

A "NO!" Was heard from across the room. It was Dae-Ho. He tried to come to you, but he was too far.

Player 456 and player 001 were pulling him into a room. Forcing the door shut. You could see Dae-Ho looking out of the door slit, his hands peaking out as well.

You didn't turn to see what Thanos might have been doing. You didn't care. Not anymore.

You just wanted your last moment to be looking at the most handsome man you'd ever met. His soft eyes were filled with tears as he watched you.

You weren't upset, not scared, not nervous. Not anymore.

It would all be over soon.

You gave him one last salute before a loud bang rang out.

A/N- Not going to lie ya'll, I ate that up. But I still love hearing y'all's constructive criticism! Please LMK if you want to be added to my tag list, TYSM for reading!

Dae-Ho Taglist- @fuzzyscissorsmakerpie-blog @thethreeeyed-raven

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ro-is-struggling · 1 year ago

Text

Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff

English is not my first language

Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)

Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!

Do you want to get notified when I post? JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE!

The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.

You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you.

Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away.

"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."

"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."

"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."

"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."

"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."

"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."

Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders.

Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.

"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness.

You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.

"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know.

But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.

"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."

Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.

“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.

"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."

"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him.

"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."

Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.

For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.

"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence.

The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.

However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands.

He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.

His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.

They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.

Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts.

You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go.

Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.

Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.

Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.

The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.

"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.

But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.

It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.

In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.

A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.

"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.

"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.

"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you."

He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.

You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.

“Princess?”

His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.

"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves.

He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so.

"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right."

You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal.

When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.

"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.

"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."

A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had.

Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear.

"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes.

"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."

"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."

"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"

"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.

"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."

"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."

"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"

"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."

Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."

"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table.

After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.

The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died.

Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him.

Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.

"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."

You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.

"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet."

"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.

"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."

The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain.

Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.

"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."

It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.

Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.

"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him.

Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source.

"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.

Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.

When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.

The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.

"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."

Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.

Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up.

Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed.

He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.

Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.

"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it.

"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."

You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.

"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.

"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.

You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.

“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.

"Or maybe you're being naively nice."

Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.

You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.

They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.

"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."

Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.

The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him.

That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.

"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned.

"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.

"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.

"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."

There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that.

"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."

Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you.

The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin.

Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection.

You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time.

You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.

"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.

Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.

The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.

"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."

It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head.

"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."

Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.

"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes, Geralt, I will."

"Good."

Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.

He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body. You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.

"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.

"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."

"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.

"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."

Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you.

"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock.

It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you.

Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible.

"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.

"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."

Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.

It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles.

And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.

"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.

The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips.

"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him.

Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move.

After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.

Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.

"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole."

You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.

"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."

"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.

"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."

"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.

"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock."

His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.

"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."

It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.

"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it."

Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.

"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.

"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"

His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit.

"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."

His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.

Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had.

You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.

"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.

"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.

Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you."

You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.

"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.

"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved.

Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you.

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."

Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.

Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.

"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.

You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms.

"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.

It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.

You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.

"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"

Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."

You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."

"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."

You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x reader smut #the witcher x reader #the witcher x reader smut #geralt x reader #the witcher smut #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month ago

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Lipstick: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @cosmic-psychickitty @puredicks @queenslandlover-93

Prequel piece to:

Crisis

ASMR For The Soul

Something To Complain About (NSFW)

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

It’s the second date and you’re wearing lipstick.

It’s stunning shade of fire engine red that Robby hasn’t been able to take his eyes off all night, especially now back here in your apartment as he sits on your couch, his coffee cup left untouched on the side table.

“I think you’ve been working too hard.” You murmur as your hands come to rest on his knees, parting this thighs. You kneel down in front of him and his cheeks colour at the implications. “And I think you need help relaxing.”

There’s been a tension in him all night, a remnant of the shift he was on before he took you out tonight. He finds it hard to relax when it’s been intense, everything feels too raw, too stark, his leg jangles, he finds himself checking his watch, a repeated anxious habit from The Pitt. That nervous energy is enough to scare anyone off.

Not you though.

You have a lowkey understanding of it from your work as a lifeguard. You’ve lost count of the amount of kids you’ve pulled from the deep end of a city pool because their parents couldn’t get off their phones for a minute.

“Oh is that what you think?” He murmurs as his fingertips tuck an errant strand of hair back behind your ear. “You could be right.”

“I know I’m right.” You tell him as you unzip his trousers. His cock juts out through his underwear, the dark fabric already damp with pre-cum. “It’s the lipstick isn’t it? That’s what’s got you all hot and bothered.”

“It may do a little something for me.” He admits, biting his lower lip as you draw his underwear down past his hips. “I’m not used to-”

A loud moan escapes his mouth as your fingers wrap around the shaft, pumping slowly.

“You’re not used to women dressing up for you or getting on their knees and worshipping you?” You question.

“Fuck.” He hisses through his teeth as your tongue swipes over the tip. “No, I-”

“Oh Robby.” You tut as you lick up the shaft, your eyes locked on his. “Those women before me, they didn’t know how to treat you did they? Don’t worry baby, I’m going to make sure you get everything you deserve.”

You envelope him then and the noise that leaves his throat, it’s goddamn filthy. His gaze comes to rest on those lips, the red smearing across his dick and it ignites something in him, something desperate, something wild.

“Allegra.” He whispers, his hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck, keeping you close. He starts to thrust and he feels you smile around his cock, because Robby, he never takes what he needs. He just gives until there’s nothing left.

The sound of his hitched breathes echo through the living room, each one louder and more punctuated as he fucks your mouth, that ecstasy rising up in him like a wildfire building and building until it sears through his synapses, obliterating every single thought in his head.

He cries out your name as he climaxes, his release spilling down your throat in long hot spurts as his grip tightens, holding you in place. You drink him down like whiskey, your tongue tracing over him, licking him clean before you pull off with a lewd ‘pop’.

You’re a mess, lipstick smeared across your mouth, lips pert and glistening. He runs his thumb over them before pushing it inside and you bite down on the pad sending a jolt of electricity right down to his dick.

“You fucking beautiful.” He tells you, because there is something inside you that calls to him, it’s been there ever since he first laid eyes on you teaching that lifeguard class to Jake.

“Oh Robby.” You say, standing up and reaching behind you to unfasten the tie on the back of your dress. “You haven’t even seen me naked yet.”

Love Robby? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#dr robby #dr robby x reader #the pitt #michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robby robinavitch #noah wyle #robby #robby x reader

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 months ago

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Eddie cursed, rubbing his eyes. He had to figure out a way to help his uncle with the hospital bills. Wayne was out of work for now, and the money from Eddie's little business wouldn't cover it all. He had to do something, and the gremlins said that they take shit from Steve's house all the time. . .he doesn't mind. Oh, fuck, he couldn't believe that he was doing this. It was easy to tell himself that he was just a pharmaceutical salesman when he was selling drugs but breaking into someone's house? It was hard to explain that one away. Eddie swallowed his guilt and squared his shoulders. He slid open the back door of Steve’s house and entered the room that looked out at the pool in the backyard. Okay, now, he just had to get past the living room and up the stairs. The living room was dark as Eddie crept by. . .except, there was a flickering glow coming from the TV. Someone was still home. Shit! He was supposed to be on a date!

"Fuck," Eddie cursed softly.

Eddie's eyes adjusted, and then he realized what he was looking at. Steve was leaning back on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table, and he was watching. . .the animated Hobbit movie? Eddie nearly choked on his own saliva. Steve was enjoying it too, bobbing his head to the music, a smile on his face. Eddie stared at him for a moment, getting lost in the way he smiled and laughed. . .the way he looked ethereal in the light of the television screen. Eventually, though, Eddie's eyes drifted from Steve to the screen, and he got lost in the story. Before he knew it, Eddie was sitting on the other side of the couch. At some point, Steve offered him popcorn, and he accepted, thanking him as he stuffed the kernels into his mouth. When the movie ended, Steve got up and turned on the lights before sitting back down again. Eddie grinned, he fucking loved that movie.

"Okay, that was pretty good," Steve said.

"You've never seen it before?" Eddie asked.

"Nope! Dustin suggested it. . .he didn't think I'd read the book," Steve rolled his eyes. "He's got to get that ego of his in check."

"It's his tone, right?" Eddie asked.

"Exactly!" Steve exclaimed.

"You've read the book?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, yeah, I figured. . .Dustin agreed to do something for me, so I figured, why not throw him a bone," Steve said. "I loved the book, and I'm trying to get through the Fellowship, but it's just - I guess I'm just slower than most people," Steve said.

"Hey, man, Tolkien isn't for everyone and hell, I love his works but the man can go on about a fucking tree," Eddie said. "You should get points for trying."

They talked about Tolkien for a few minutes and how Steve really liked it, but it was difficult for him. They also talked about Dustin, and they laughed when they realized they were both jealous of each other when the kid looked up to both of them. It was a nice moment, and he couldn't believe he had so much in common with him. . .turns out there's not enough money in the world that could make your parents love you. Finally, Steve cleared his throat and crossed his arms.

"So, are we going to talk about you breaking into my house?" Steve asked.

"Shit," Eddie said, his eyes wide. "Uh - "

He was very flustered, and he didn't know what to say. How could he explain to him that he wanted to steal from him? He could just say it. Steve smirked and moved closer to him. . .so close their thighs were touching. Steve threw an arm over the back of his couch, right behind Eddie, and leaned in even closer. Suddenly, Eddie was very aware of just how close they were. He could feel Steve’s breath on his skin. His heart was being rapidly in his chest. This was just because of his guilt and not because he enjoyed Steve Harrington being pressed up against him. . .right?

"Did you break into my house to watch a movie with me?" Steve asked, his voice low and husky. It did something to Eddie's lower part of his body. "I have to say. . .very flattered."

"I'm not - ," Eddie said, trying to get out that he didn't like men or try to break into their houses to flirt with them. "I'm an asshole!"

"Excuse me?" Steve asked.

"You were supposed to be on a date," Eddie said, his face very red.

"Yeah, well, I think I found something better. . .more like something better found me," Steve smiled, a crooked smile that did something funny and weird to Eddie's heart. Was he dying?

"Look, the kids said that you don't really care about what they take from your house, so I thought I'd partake. . .," Eddie said, trailing off, feeling ashamed

"You came here to steal from me?" Steve asked, incredulous.

Eddie was disappointed when he moved away from him. He missed the contact, and he hated the way Steve was looking at him. He was so. . .disappointed, and Eddie wondered why he even cared because he didn't even know him all that well. Maybe that was the point. For one brief moment, he wanted to know more about Steve Harrington, and all it took was seeing him watch one of his favorite movies. It didn't take much for him to believe in all the things that the kids had told him before. . .in his minds eyes, Steve Harrington had been this almost mythic being. . .too good to be true, but now, here was a real person. He always watched him from afar, Steve had everything: a nice house, money, popularity, and unlike his stupid jock friends, he was decent to the smallfolk of Hawkins High. As much as he tried to deny it, Steve Harrington was a good dude, and Eddie had been the dick who hurt him. He knew that if he had just asked, from what Dustin had said about him, that Steve probably would have given him the shirt off his back but not without complaining loudly about it first.

"I'm sorry. . .I just needed the money. My uncle got into an accident that put him out of work, and my drug business isn't paying the bills. . .I've tried getting hired elsewhere, but have you seen me?! I just thought that since you didn't care - " Eddie rambled.

Just like that, Steve was smiling at him again. . .softly this time and with a lot of affection. He stood up and held out his hand.

"Come along, thief," Steve smirked.

Eddie, immediately and without question, slid his hand into Steve’s. It fit so perfectly. Steve pulled him up off the couch and started leading him up the stairs. He pulled him into a bedroom. . .oh.

"Uh. . .," Eddie started to say.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything to you in here," Steve rolled his eyes. "This is my parents' bedroom."

"Why are we in here?" Eddie asked.

Steve opened a closet door and pulled him inside. Jesus, it was huge. It was a woman's closet filled with clothes, shoes, and jewelry.

"This is my mom's second closet but not her real one. She keeps all of her stuff in her apartment in New York. They own this house, and my parents each have their own apartment. They only keep the house for real estate or some shit, I wasn't really paying attention. One of the reasons why they keep me around is because they'll know I'll take care of it," Steve said.

"Like you're their live in butler?" Eddie asked.

"If you have to put it that way, yes," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," Eddie winced.

"No, it's true," Steve said. "In this closet, you can sell anything you want to. This is all the stuff my dad's bought my mom over the years every time he's cheated. She hates it. She sends it all back here."

"All of this?!" Eddie asked in surprise. "Has his dick fallen off yet?"

"I think my mom hopes for that," Steve scoffed.

"You seriously don't mind if I sell this stuff?" Eddie asked.

"Not at all, especially if it's for your uncle," Steve said. "Something good should come from this goddamn nightmare of a marriage."

"You came out of this marriage, Steve," Eddie said softly. "Your mom doesn't - ?"

"I'm sure she loved me at some point, but it's hard for her. . .I look too much like my dad," Steve said.

"You know, that's fucked up, right?" Eddie asked and he nodded.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the tears. One slipped out anyway. Eddie cupped his face and wiped the tears way with his thumb. Steve sighed and leaned into his touch for a moment before pulling away.

"I think it's sweet, you know. You must really love your uncle to go to all through this trouble," Steve said, smiling. "I might not have my parents, but I have Robin, Dustin, his mom, Lucas, and his parents. The rest of the party, too. . .I think I'd do anything for them."

"Steal for them?" He asked.

"Definitely," Steve said and paused, his hand on his hip as his eyes began twinkling with mirth. "I think that it's only fair that I steal something from you."

It was fair, Eddie thought. Steve placed his hands on Eddie's vest, running his fingers down the length of the vest. He gripped the collar. . .Eddie narrowed his eyes at him.

"You can't have my vest. I worked hard on it. I literally put my blood, sweat, and tears into it. Do you know how long it takes to sew - !"

Eddie was cut off by Steve pulling him close and smashing his lips to his. Eddie's eyes went wide - HE DOES NOT LIKE MEN, HE DOES NOT LIKE MEN - Okay, so maybe he does like men. Eddie's eyes fluttered closed, and he was about to return the kiss when Steve pulled away.

"You can have whatever you want, take my fucking wallet if you want," Eddie said, dazed.

"I don't want your wallet, Eddie," Steve chuckled. "Just you."

Eddie pushed up against against the doorframe, his hands on his chest. . .looking rather intense. Steve stared at him with wide eyes, unsure of what he was going to do. Eddie's hands went to his throat, and then cupped his face. Steve relaxed and smiled. Eddie noticed there were some green in his brown eyes. . .hazel. Eddie kissed him. Steve's hands went his hips immediately, pulling himself harder against Eddie and deepening the kiss. Eddie's hands went to the back of his neck, moving his lips roughly against Steve’s, gripping his hair. Steve pushed him back against the other frame, his lips moving to Eddie's neck.

"Fuck," Eddie cursed.

It wasn't the first time Eddie cursed tonight, and he felt like it wouldn't be the last. He was pretty sure he liked women. . .particularly cheerleaders in short skirts. . .skirts that showed their ass a little bit. Yeah, he did. The image of Steve Harrington in a cheerleader skirt immediately flooded his mind. . .the hint of his perky ass just peaking out. . .Eddie let out another curse as Steve sucked on his neck, and the image of Steve wearing the uniform was a little bit too much. He pushed Steve off of him. Yeah, Eddie was hard.

"Sorry, did I go too far?" Steve asked.

"No, I went too far," Eddie gasped. "I was picturing you in a cheerleader uniform."

"Why?" Steve asked coyly.

"I was trying to figure out if I still liked women," Eddie said and tried to cool himself off.

"Oh! Oh shit, I didn't know that you didn't know!" Steve exclaimed, his eyes wide with panic.

"How could you have? I didn't tell you and I didn't fucking know. There were signs!" Eddie shrieked and then muttered, "I bet Ronnie knows."

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. . .it was a great fucking kiss. I just I'm confused. . .women or men, men or women!" Eddie exclaimed and held up both of his hands. "Put them together. . .yeah. . .okay."

"Eddie, I'm bisexual," Steve said gently.

"You're a woman and a man?" Eddie asked. "That's fucking metal."

"No!" Steve laughed. "That's good to know that you're okay with that, too, though. It's means I'm sexually attracted to more than one gender."

"You know, I was wondering why Jeff was giving me an odd look when I was talking about David Bowie being bisexual. . .why the fuck didn't he correct me?" Eddie asked.

"Because he probably thought it was funny," Steve said.

"Asshole," Eddie said, cursing out Jeff. "I feel like such an idiot."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up, man. We're all figuring things out. I didn't even know there was a name for it until a few months ago," Steve said, taking his hand.

"But you knew," Eddie said. "Unlike me. . ."

"There's a lot of things that people don't about themselves. You get to know yourself, too, when you get to know other people. Don't call my thief an idiot like that again. . .you were just clueless," Steve said.

"What's the difference?" Eddie asked.

"Well, one feels a little bit more like Scooby Doo," Steve said. "And you're trying to solve a mystery."

"Stop getting sexier," he scowled.

"Come on, since you're still figuring it out, let's go downstairs, and we can watch the cartoon Lord of the Rings. I rented that one, too," Steve said and kissed Eddie's hand.

"I said stop it, you goddamn Disney prince," Eddie mumbled, blushing.

"Says the thief who invaded my castle," Steve winked.

"Fuuuucking, stop it," Eddie whined. "Jesus H Christ. . .by the way, your thief?"

"Yeah, no, I decided. . .I'm definitely stealing you," Steve said.

His hands were on his hips in the most bitchiest and sexiest pose ever which Eddie thought was completely unfair. He had no defense against that weapon, and it was safe to say that those hips were weapons of mass destruction because they were completely destroying Eddie and apparently have been slowly over the years. . .he just refused to admit it. 'Imagine him doing that in a cheerleading uniform,' his evil half whispered to him. Eddie shrieked.

"Let's go watch the movie!" Eddie yelled.

He grabbed Steve’s hand and yanked him down the stairs, Steve laughing all the way. They settled in to watching the movie, with Eddie throwing caution to the wind and tossing his legs over Steve’s. Watching it with him did help him relax and enjoy the comfort of someone who wanted Eddie Munson close to them, who didn't fucking draw the pitchforks the minute he broke into his house. No, in fact, Steve Harrington fucking kissed him. This beautiful asshole wanted to get closer to him and apparently not just physically intimate with him. Either Steve really did want Eddie, or he was desperate for anyone's attention, even settling for Eddie. At some point during the movie, Eddie stopped watching it and started watching Steve instead, trying desperately to figure it all out. Steve turned to him, smiling softly, his beautiful haze eyes lighting up at his attention. Yeah, he wanted Eddie "the Freak" Munson.

"Hi," Steve whispered.

"Do you have a death wish?" Eddie blurted out.

"A little bit, why?" Steve frowned.

"No reason," Eddie said and turned back to the movie.

After the movie was over, they talked about in detail for a while with the conversation leading to Steve ranting that all jocks are nerds, that they always have been, and he didn't understand why they went after other fellow nerds. He talked a lot about statistics and math. . .Holy shit, Steve Harrington was good at math. It was the hottest thing he's ever witnessed. It led to Eddie straddling him and kissing the daylights out of him. Eddie had to pull back before he developed another problem, though. He cupped Steve’s face, enjoying the way the other man looked utterly kissed out because of him.

"So, have you figured some things out?" Steve asked softly, rubbing Eddie's back as he continued to straddle his lap.

"I'm like you," Eddie said. "Definitely."

"There's no pressure. . ." Steve said.

"I know there isn't," Eddie laughed. "Bisexual. . .it feels right to me. For me. Just like you do. . .by the way, I'm totally judging you for falling for a man who broke into your goddamn house."

"Says the man who broke into said house and gave himself away by watching a movie with me," Steve laughed.

"Touche," Eddie cackled and pressed his forehead. "If I don't leave now, I might stay forever."

"That would be a shame," Steve said with a grin.

Steve walked Eddie to the door and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Eddie could still feel the presence of his lips even when he got home. He felt like he was forgetting something, but he couldn't remember what. He didn't remember it until the next day when he found that someone had broken into his van and placed a package with some jewelry and a note.

To My Thief:

Forget something? Well, I hope you aren't so busy thinking about me that you forget to call.

Your prince,

Steve

His number was down below. Eddie smiled and clutched the note to his chest. Yeah, things were looking up for him. 86 was definitely his year.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #bi4bi #dingus4dingus #bi as hell bi the way #stranger things fanfiction #pre season 4 #rueleigh writes #rueleigh's thoughts

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illyrianshadow · 1 month ago

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Lost in shadows (pt I)

Azriel x Reader

Hey lovelies. I have not written fanfiction in years but I’ve really been enjoying all the amazing stories on here and thought I’d join in the fun. Any feedback welcome.

Ps if you have any writing requests please let me know, I really want to get back into the swing of things so practice might help!

Pps English is not my first language

Summary: After centuries apart, you see him again — Azriel, the boy who once kept you safe in the shadows of Windhaven.

But now he's a stranger and you’re left wondering: does he remember? And is your connection, fated or forgotten, still strong enough to bring you together?

Warnings: none for now but future angst and potential smut in future chapters

Part 2

———————

Your eyes keep drifting to the Illyrian male a few tables away from you as you take small sips from your drink.

You’ve been watching him all night.

He‘s grown tall, his massive wings taking up most of the little booth he’s sitting in, but it’s undeniably him.

Azriel, Az, your “Azzie”.

He looks strong, intimidating, so different from the little boy you had once trusted more than anything in the world.

He didn’t notice you, or if he did, he hadn’t recognised you. You didn’t blame him.

You hadn’t seen each other in what must have been over 500 years. He should be nothing but a distant childhood memory, but you’d never been able to forget.

Not him.

He was 11 years old when you met, you’d only just turned 10 the week before.

Both of you were hiding in the forest around Windhaven. You from your father, he from the unaccepting and violent Illyrian males.

The forest had become a place you ran off to regularly when your father became violent. It drowned out the sounds of the camp and steadied your nerves.

You’d barely spotted him at first.

Azriel was surrounded by shadows that seemed to calm as soon as you stepped close. His tired eyes showed a slight hint of fear, but he had smiled at you reluctantly. His shadows seemed to whisper something to him, something that made you earn his trust.

You normally didn’t come close to any of the Illyrian boys your age but something about the lost looking boy in front of you drew you in. He seemed so different from the ones you’d grown up with.

You asked if you could join his hiding spot and he smiled at you reluctantly before moving over, making space for you to sit down beside him. His shadows immediately engulfed the both of you and the feeling of them made you giggle.

Against all of your instincts he made you feel safe. He steadied you the same way the forest did.

You became inseparable after that first meeting, sneaking out to your joined hiding place at every opportunity. Small laughs escaped your lips as you told each other jokes, and later, your deepest secrets.

You watched him grow in confidence, you were his biggest supporter when he learned how to fly and you beamed with pride when he told you stories about his newfound brothers.

He was your safety net, an escape from the brutal conditions of the camp and one of the only Illyrian males you’d ever trusted.

No one really knew about your friendship. It wasn’t safe. Your father would never approve of you hanging around with someone like Azriel. A bastard unworthy of being trained among what your father referred to as “pureblood Illyrian warriors”.

For 8 years he was your closest friend, your best kept secret. Leaving him behind was the hardest thing you ever had to do.

And now he was here.

#azriel #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x female!reader

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postmoe · 3 months ago

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So, I'm getting around to doing Amphoreus and... we're at the bath house... and there is a special bath house for heroes.... can you imagine being taken in there without anyone else knowing just to be banged senselessly?

With Mydei and Phainon x Reader

girl we on the same wave length. I just added a bit to something i had going but didn't like it enough for the story i wanted lol.

non-con, helplessness, a bit of choking, bathhouse, ambrosia, master/servant dynamicish

Translations off google so (I went the Ancient Greek route)... Dominus - Master. He philtatē - dearest love. (feminine).

Amphoreus is full of many heroes, and though they are all strong and worthy of their titles, there are some that put true unease in others.

Like Mydei. Even with Phainon right next to him, trying to lighten the mood in the room, people still fear his sharp looks and dominating muscles. Everyone has seen what these two heroes can do, and no one wants to be on the wrong side of them.

Not to mention how protective they are of each other. Back and forth arguments seem like nothing when their anger is truly displayed, especially at people who speak ill of their partner.

And then there's you, their precious, priceless darling. A warning isn't good enough if you were to be picked on, broken bones, lost jobs, people are still debating whether or not the person who moved lands is dead or still alive.

So, when you're dragged from your station, or told to meet them somewhere, everyone drops everything to make sure you comply. Which is why, even if people did see you be hauled into the heroes bathhouse, you know calling for help would do nothing good.

That's why you stand there, sweat soaking through your white road, nipples poking into wet, sheer fabric, face stoic and hands holding a large jug of wine like it were any other client. They seem entertained enough by each other, hopefully today they will just leave you alone.

However, as Mydei pulls away from the heated kiss, grinning drunkenly your way and leaning his head against the edge of the in ground bath, you know there is no such luck. "He philtatē, come drink ambrosia with us," he practically moans, Phainon grinding his naked body in his lap, kissing and lapping up the sweat of his lovers neck.

You make a point to keep your eyes facing forward, not wanting to give them the thought that you're indulging in their actions, "No, thank you, dominus. I am working right now." That's not to say you would if you weren't on shift, but, it's as good an excuse as any other.

Phainon finally frees his mouth from the other's body, sculling the rest of his drink, red ambrosia trickling over his lips, down the cleft of his neck, and over the pecs of his chest before mixing with the bath water and disappearing. His eyes are hooded, cheeks dusted red with the effects of alcohol and lust, "Why the sudden harsh treatment, He philtatē, you were never this reserved when we first met."

With a bow of your head, avoiding his gaze, you say, "Kindess is part of the job. I welcomed you in, my job is done."

"Boo~" Phainon whines, rolling off of Mydei and sitting next to him in the water. "You're not like this after work or with your colleagues," he mutters, now holding out his empty cup, "Refill, please!"

You're not even going to ask how he knows what you're like when they're not around, already having the sneaking suspicion they've been following you and paying someone to tail you when they're gone. You crouch down to aim the jug into the goblet, only for Mydei to snatch the wine from your hands which makes you cry out a, "Hey!"

Within moments, you're being dragged into the water by a laughing Phainon. You thrash and splash the water as you're manhandled, thick fingers pulling your clinging robe over your head, leaving you in thin panties and the gold chains around your torso to help support your breasts. You're held tightly against his chest, coddled like a sweet pet until you stop moving so violently. Once you calm down enough, Mydei hands a cup to Phainon, who then promptly presses the rim to your tightly sealed lips, "Ambrosia~ Ambrosia for He philtatē~"

His other hand is roughly grabbing your jaw, the ache forcing your mouth to part enough for the liquid to slip through. You grunt, swallowing the sweet drink, a lot of it falling down your front, until the cup is empty. His hand is swaying in front of your face, the motion annoying you so you backhand the goblet, it flying and dunking in the water. He's so out of it that it takes him a minute to realise what you've done, the man laughing and messily petting your head in a playful manner.

Mydei exhales, sinking further into the bath to relax his muscles, "The whole trip he wouldn't shut up about you. 'When can we see (Y/n) again?' 'How much longer until we leave for (Y/n)?' 'Do you think if I send a letter, it'll reach her before we get back?' Couldn't even focus on fighting."

Phainon cheekily pinches your cheek, directing your attention back to him, "Funny he says that. Just whose name do you think he was calling every night we fucked?" You grab at his wrists once they start to slip to your cunt, fingers brushing your clit while your strength did nothing to hold him back. He didn't even acknowledge it, choosing instead to ask, "We have those new heroes, too. Should we introduce them to our private hole?" A wince escapes you as he slips a finger in, your pussy clenching from the intrusion. He swirls his digit around before adding another, "And what of Anaxa? Where is he?"

"Anaxa is still busy, he won't be back for another month," Mydei steps from the tiled ledge and stands in front of you, his large hands stroking over your shoulders, cupping your breasts in his palms and grazing the nipples with his thumbs. His eyes follow every move with a predatory gaze, "They certainly have proved their worth..."

You zone out as they talk about you like some object. Gritting your teeth, frustrated tears mix with the sweat on your face as you silently cry. What sort of a God or Titan or Deity would allow something such as this to happen to one of their subjects? It just proves how lost your soul really is from everyone else's. Everyone was right, you were abandoned by the titans the moment you were conceived.

Mydei pushes himself against your front, sandwiching you between him and Phainon so he can easily kiss your tears away, "Now look what you've done, you made her cry."

Phainon coos against your hair, his fingers hooking inside you to get a jerking reacting out of you, your hips trapped between the two, "It's okay, He philtatē, we won't share you if you don't want to. It actually makes me happy to see your heart is ours alone."

That's absolutely not true.

"Just be good for us tonight or else we might have to get them to 'help' hold you down," Mydei chuckles drunkenly as if his joke was actually something worth laughing at.

It pissed you off how he could just say something like that and get away with it. You pushed a sturdy hand against his chest, halting him from your boldness. (E/c) eyes look to the door, longing for anyone to enter and stop this madness. Your voice is quiet, moisture inside your mouth gone from the alcohol, bath heat and sexual actions of these men, "One day... One day someone will stop you."

The amused rumble from Phainon's chest made your heart sink. Then, when Mydei's fierce eyes sharped as his grin showed too many teeth to bring an intense foreboding to flood your veins, you shrank back into Phainon as he suddenly seemed to be the lesser of two evils. Mydei scoffed and gripped the base of your neck, your chin tilted up on the curve of his thumb and index as he held you just hard enough to make you wheeze and meet his eyes, "That day won't be a day you're alive."

When he finally let go, the world around you went white and your head couldn't tell which way gravity was holding you. Thankfully, you had your two heroes to keep you safe.

#yandere mydei x reader #yandere phainon x reader #yandere mydei x reader x yandere phainon #mydei x reader #phainon x reader #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #honkai star rail #yandere x reader #hsr #x reader

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rootedinrevisions · 6 months ago

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Friends (with Benefits) Don't: Part 5

THIS IS PART OF THE FRIENDS (WITH BENEFITS) DON'T SERIES! T

PROMPT: “I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

KINK: Morning Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (P in V. Lots of kissing and touching.)

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

TAG LIST: See Comments

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm going to be honest I was really struggling with my original idea for Kinktober Day 20. It was a different Kink with a different character but it wasn't coming together like I wanted. I had started and scrapped it five or six times. But I also had this that I wrote a few weeks ago. I wasn't going to post it because I didn't think it fit with the story I originally was writing it for (a Jake series that I've since abandoned cause I wasn't loving how it was coming together) but I feel like it could fit the Kinktober theme so here it is! Hope you like it! xx

The morning sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. You slowly stir awake, feeling the warmth of Jake’s body pressed against yours, his arm draped comfortably over your waist. His chest rises and falls with the rhythm of his deep, even breaths, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into him, enjoying the unexpected comfort of waking up in his arms. This isn’t how things usually go.

Your relationship with Jake has been easy, with no strings attached. At least, it was supposed to be. But now, with the way he’s holding you so protectively, it feels different. You remember last night—how you’d planned for another casual hook-up, but instead, after, you’d ended up tangled together under the covers, watching a romcom of all things. And then, instead of leaving like he always does, Jake stayed.

Your heart pounds softly in your chest, the weight of the situation settling in. Is this still just a fling? Or is something else happening between you two? The lines are starting to blur.

You shift slightly, careful not to wake him just yet, and glance over your shoulder. His usually cocky, confident expression is softened in sleep, his features relaxed, and suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of vulnerability you weren’t expecting.

You know you should probably move, maybe get up, but something about this moment feels too good to let go. You bite your lip, torn between the easygoing fun of what you had before and the undeniable change that seems to be happening.

Just as you're lost in thought, Jake stirs, his arm tightening slightly around your waist before his voice rumbles low in your ear. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

His voice, deep and gravelly from sleep, sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to smile. You manage to reply softly, “Morning.”

Jake shifts behind you, pulling you closer for a second before he stretches and rolls onto his back, his hand trailing down your arm as he moves. The bed feels colder without him wrapped around you, and you can't help but miss the warmth. He runs a hand through his messy hair and glances over at you, his usual cocky grin making an appearance. “Sleep well?”

You nod, still feeling a bit off-balance by the situation, and try to keep things casual. “Yeah, I did…you?”

“Better than usual,” he says, surprising you with the sincerity in his tone.

You sit up slowly, pulling the covers around you, suddenly feeling a bit exposed—not physically, but emotionally. This isn’t what you signed up for. Friends with benefits doesn’t include waking up in each other’s arms, watching movies together, and it certainly doesn’t include the softness in Jake’s eyes when he looks at you right now.

You’re about to say something, maybe ask him about breakfast or make some quip to lighten the mood, but before you can get the words out, you feel Jake’s lips press against your bare shoulder. It’s not just a kiss—it’s gentle, lingering, almost like he’s savoring the moment. And it catches you completely off guard. Jake’s mouth has been everywhere on you before, but this? This feels different. It’s tender. Intimate. Too intimate.

Your breath hitches slightly as you glance back at him, and you’re met with a gaze that’s softer than his usual playful smirk. His green eyes seem to be studying you, watching your reaction carefully. For a second, your heart pounds a little harder, and all you can think is what are we doing?

“Jake…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what you want to say. You feel like you should address this shift, but before you can even form a coherent thought, he’s already leaning in again, his lips brushing against your collarbone this time, trailing upward to your neck.

The air between you thickens, and any words you might’ve had dissolve in the heat of the moment. Jake’s hand slides along your waist, pulling you back down onto the bed, your body instinctively responding to him. You should stop and talk about this, about what this all means, but when he moves closer, you can’t seem to find it in you to pull away.

Jake’s lips linger for a moment, his breath brushing against your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine, not from cold, but from something much deeper. Something you hadn’t expected to feel this morning, or maybe ever in this situation. Sure, Jake has touched you plenty of times before, in ways that have sent your pulse racing and your skin burning. But this—this feels different.

Your heart begins to beat faster as his hand, which had been resting on your waist, tightens ever so slightly, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his muscles flex just beneath the surface as he shifts beside you. He presses another kiss, this time closer to the nape of your neck, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the contact. It sends your thoughts into a spiral, the question lingering in your mind—What is happening?

Before you can fully process it, Jake’s hand begins to move, sliding from your waist up along your ribs, his touch light and teasing. His fingers graze the band of your bra, tracing the edge in a way that makes your breath hitch. You shift slightly under the covers, your body responding to him even as your mind races to catch up. Every touch feels deliberate like he’s taking his time, savoring every second. It’s not the hurried, frenzied touches you’re used to—it’s slow, almost reverent, and it makes your heart pound in your chest.

His hand moves back down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, and in one smooth motion, he pulls it up over your head, tossing it aside. You don’t even think to stop him—you don’t want to. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of Jake’s hands as he cups your sides, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your bra. His lips find your neck again, this time pressing a series of kisses, each one sending sparks through your body.

You open your mouth to say something—to ask him what this is, what it means—but before you can, his hand slides around your back, expertly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. He pulls it off, tossing it somewhere in the room, and you suddenly feel exposed in a way that’s both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Jake doesn’t give you time to think about it. His hands are on you again, skimming over your bare skin as his mouth moves lower, pressing a kiss just below your collarbone. His touch is slow and patient as if he’s in no rush to get anywhere, and it drives you wild. You can’t help the way your back arches slightly, your body reacting to him before your mind can catch up.

As his lips trail down your chest, you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down with the same deliberate slowness. The way he’s taking his time—like he wants to memorize every inch of you—sends a flush of warmth through your body.

You reach up, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him back to you. His lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and consuming, filled with a hunger that makes your head spin. There’s an urgency now, but it’s not the same frantic rush as before. It’s something deeper—something that makes your heart race as much as your body responds.

Jake’s hands roam your body with a familiar ease, but this time, there’s a softness to his touch, a kind of reverence that makes your skin tingle. His mouth moves back to your neck, trailing down to your chest, and you can feel the heat between the two of you intensifying. Every kiss, every touch, feels deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment in a way that leaves you breathless.

Before you know it, you’re completely lost in him. His mouth is everywhere—on your skin, your lips, your neck—and all you can do is let yourself fall deeper into the moment, feeling the weight of him, the warmth of him, as he moves against you. You’re no longer just two friends sharing a casual hookup. This is something more. And it terrifies you as much as it thrills you.

Jake pushes your legs a little further apart as he reaches down and wraps his hand around himself. He spreads the precum that formed at his tip around the head with his thumb before pumping himself a couple of times.

He then presses the tip through your folds as he gently pushes into you. His eyes find yours as his hips slowly move until they are pressed flatly against yours. Jake leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips before he started slowly moving in and out of you.

Your breath started to hitch as he moved in and out of you, each thrust feeling like it was a little deeper than the last. Slowly his pace started to quicken.

“J-Jake,” you moaned as you started to move your hips up to meet his.

You feel his lips curve into a smirk against your neck before he whispers, “God, I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

Baby. That was new. He’d never used pet names before.

But you didn’t have time to overthink it because his hand slid down your stomach until one of his fingers started rubbing circles on your clit. You felt your back arch up off the sheets as the knot in your stomach tightened even further.

“F-fuck,” you cried out, feeling your orgasm right there.

“Not yet. Wait for me, baby. I’m…I’m almost there,” Jake breathily said as he picked up his face even further. Your hands grabbed at the sheets as you tried to hold it off, but it was getting nearly impossibly.

“Okay, come with me baby.” He breathed after a few more thrusts. Your toes curled and you cried out as you felt your orgasm wash over you. It was the most intense one he had ever given you. It left you feeling slightly dizzy as you laid there trying to get the air back into your lungs.

Once the intensity subsides, your breaths gradually even out, but the room still feels heavy with the lingering heat of what just happened. Jake shifts beside you, his body slightly resting on yours as if he’s reluctant to let go. His skin is warm, slick with a light sheen of sweat, and his chest rises and falls against your back. Slowly, his arm drapes lazily over your waist again, pulling you even closer until there’s barely an inch of space between you.

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, a gesture that feels impossibly tender compared to what had just transpired. It sends a strange flutter through your chest, and you can’t help but close your eyes, sinking into the feeling. His lips linger there for a moment, as though he’s savoring the closeness, his breathing still a little uneven as it fans across your skin.

You lay there in silence, the warmth of his body cocooning you, and for a fleeting second, it almost feels like more than just a fling. Jake holds you like you’re something precious, his grip on you gentle but firm, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he loosens it. His fingertips lazily trace small circles on your hip, an absent-minded gesture that sends ripples of electricity through your skin.

But even as your heart skips in response, your mind is racing. The intimacy of it all—of him kissing your shoulder earlier, of the way he’s holding you now—feels too close. Too much. Like it’s crossing a line you weren’t prepared to cross. You stare up at the ceiling, the fan spinning lazily above you, trying to quiet the thoughts spinning in your head.

What are we doing? It’s the question that’s been eating at you for weeks now, but after moments like this, it feels impossible to ignore. You’ve been telling yourself for months that it’s just physical—that this friends-with-benefits thing is working. But lying here, wrapped in Jake’s arms, the weight of his body still pressed against yours, you can’t help but wonder if it’s something more. And if it is—what does that mean for the two of you?

Beside you, Jake’s breathing has slowed, becoming more even, and you can feel his muscles relax against you. He looks so at ease, so content, like this is the most natural thing in the world. It’s disarming, seeing him like this, without the cocky smirk or swagger. Just Jake, quietly holding you in the early morning light.

He doesn’t say anything—maybe he’s thinking the same things, maybe he’s not thinking at all—but the silence between you feels charged, like there’s a conversation you should be having but neither of you is ready to start. You know you’ll have to face the reality of what’s happening between you eventually, of what it’s becoming. But not right now. Not yet.

For now, you’re content to stay here, tangled up with him in this moment. His arm still draped over you like he’s anchoring you to him, his breath warm against your neck, and the lingering heat from the sheets creating a bubble you don’t want to burst just yet. It’s safe here, in the quiet aftermath, even if it’s complicated. Especially because it’s complicated.

Eventually, Jake shifts beside you, the movement pulling you out of your thoughts. His arm loosens around your waist, and you can feel him adjust himself behind you. There’s a slight pause before he moves, as if he’s hesitant to break the moment, but then he finally leans back. You hear him run a hand through his tousled hair, the sound of it brushing against the pillow beside you.

With a small sigh, you push yourself up slightly on your elbows, feeling the cool air hit your skin as the blanket falls away. You turn your head just in time to see Jake glancing at himself in the small mirror on the wall, running his fingers through his hair again, making sure it still looks good. It’s such a Jake thing to do—caring about how his hair looks even after everything that just happened—and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

He catches your eye in the reflection, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lazy grin. “Pull yourself together,” he teases lightly, the heat from earlier still lingering in his tone. “You look a little... well, you know.” His eyes flicker over you in a way that makes you feel warm all over again.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite behind it. Instead, you push the covers off and slide out of bed, your legs still a little shaky as you stand. You make your way over to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and doing your best to hide any signs of what had just happened in the bedroom. The cool water is refreshing, helping you regain some sense of normalcy after the heated intensity of the morning.

When you finally feel composed enough, you step out of the bathroom and make your way through your apartment, finding Jake by the door. He’s already pulling on his shirt, his movements casual and unhurried, as if the last hour hadn’t completely turned your world upside down. He glances at you as you approach, a knowing smile tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t say anything.

The two of you walk out together, the easy silence between you feeling both comfortable and charged, the weight of what just happened lingering in the air between you. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the parking lot, and for a moment, everything feels almost normal—like this could be any other day.

You head toward your car, the cool morning breeze brushing against your skin, but before you can reach the handle, you feel Jake’s arm snake around your waist. He pulls you close, his body warm against yours as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your temple. The gesture is light and easy, like it’s something he’s done a hundred times before. And maybe he has—but it still feels different now.

Your heart stutters in your chest as the warmth of his lips lingers on your skin. You wait for something more—for him to say something, to acknowledge the shift between you—but instead, Jake gives you a small smile, his signature smirk just barely there, and turns to walk toward his truck.

You blink, watching as he pulls open the door and climbs inside, the engine roaring to life. His truck pulls out of the lot, disappearing around the corner like it’s just another day. Like nothing extraordinary just happened. Like he hasn’t turned your world upside down in the span of a single morning.

And you’re left standing there by your car, fingers still hovering near the door handle, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. What just happened? He kissed you goodbye—and went on about his day like it was nothing. Like it was routine.

But it didn’t feel routine, not to you.

Your stomach twists, a confusing swirl of emotions rising inside you. You’re no stranger to Jake’s touch, to the way he holds you close in private, the way he knows exactly how to make you feel good. That was the arrangement—the simple, no-strings-attached setup that the two of you had fallen into. It had worked perfectly at first. Fun, light, uncomplicated. But this morning, something shifted. And it scares you.

You press your lips together, your fingers tightening around your car keys as you replay the morning’s events in your head. The softness in Jake’s kiss. The way he held you like it was more than just a fleeting moment. The way he kissed your shoulder earlier, something so intimate it almost felt like a confession in itself. But none of it made sense. You weren’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Right?

You lean against your car for a moment, trying to sort through the haze of emotions clouding your mind. There’s an ache deep in your chest—something that wasn’t there before. It’s that feeling you’ve been trying to ignore for weeks now, the feeling that this wasn’t just about hooking up anymore. Not for you. And maybe not for him either.

But then why did he just leave? Why did he act like this was nothing more than your usual routine?

You bite your lip, trying to shake off the growing uncertainty. Maybe you’re reading too much into it. Maybe this is just what happens when you start spending too much time together outside of the original arrangement. Lines blur, things get messy, and suddenly it’s not just about sex anymore.

But the worst part is, you don’t even know what you want. You don’t know if you’re ready to confront whatever this is becoming. If you’re ready to have that conversation with Jake, to open up the possibility of things going wrong. Because things were good—before they got complicated. Before last night. Before this morning.

You sigh, the cool breeze brushing your hair as you glance toward the empty spot where Jake’s truck had been parked moments ago. Your mind is a jumble of emotions—confusion, longing, fear, and something else you’re not quite ready to name.

What if Jake feels it too? What if he’s just as confused as you are?

But then again... what if he doesn’t?

You unlock your car door and slide into the driver’s seat, the weight of uncertainty heavy on your chest. You don’t know where this is going, or what happens next, but one thing is clear: things have changed between you and Jake. And you can’t go back to the way things were, no matter how much you might want to.

As you sit there, staring out at the quiet street ahead, you wonder if Jake is thinking about you now, if he’s replaying the morning in his mind like you are. Or if, for him, this is still just part of the arrangement—a fun, easy fling that hasn’t crossed any lines.

Your fingers tap against the steering wheel, the echo of Jake’s kiss still lingering on your skin.

You thought you had it all figured out. But now, standing on the edge of something new and uncertain, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you’ve fallen in deeper than you ever intended to.

And the scariest part? You’re not sure if Jake’s ready to follow you there.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader #Jake Seresin Smut #Hangman Jake Seresin Smut

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thelovehypothesis · 6 months ago

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You ramble, but it's adorable

Ollie Bearman x fem!reader

From this request

+1k words

a/n's: this was requested on my old account which I accidentally deleted but, hope this fic finds the person that requested it!

warnings: fluff!

summary: lost in your latest obsession, and he's completely captivated by your every word—because to Ollie, every ramble is just another reason to fall in love.

Ollie had always found it easy to get lost in the small moments—those quiet pauses between races, when the world slowed down just enough for him to savour the simplicity of life. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the way he felt right now, watching you animatedly explain your latest obsession.

You were sitting on the couch, knees tucked under you, eyes sparkling as you tried to unpack the complex universe that Taylor Swift had created with her "folklore" album. Your hands moved in quick gestures as you traced out what you called "the love triangle of all love triangles" between Betty, James, and August. Ollie leaned against the backrest, listening with a quiet smile, his eyes never leaving your face.

"And then—" you continued, your voice slightly higher in pitch with excitement, "in 'Cardigan,' Betty is talking about how she loved James even after he messed everything up. But, and here's the crazy part, 'August' is from the perspective of the girl James cheated on her with!" You waved your hands in a dramatic arc. "It’s so genius because it’s like each song is a different piece of the same story. I mean, can you even imagine the emotional depth it takes to create something like that?"

Ollie chuckled softly, shaking his head just enough for you to notice but not enough to interrupt you. You barely paused, too deep in your passionate analysis of the music to stop.

"But wait, I’m not done!" You looked at him, eyes wide. "You’ve got 'Betty' next, which is James' apology song. He’s basically trying to get Betty back after messing around with August, but you can tell he’s just a stupid kid who didn’t know what he had until he lost it!" You sighed dramatically, clutching a pillow to your chest. "It’s heartbreaking, but also like... I can't stop listening to it on repeat."

Ollie couldn't help it; his heart swelled at how much you cared about all these tiny details, how you put your whole soul into explaining it to him. He loved how your face lit up with excitement, how your voice carried the melody of your thoughts so effortlessly. And he especially loved how you didn’t care whether he knew every little detail or not—you just wanted to share it with him.

"You’re adorable, you know that?" Ollie said softly, his voice cutting through your rambling just enough to make you pause.

You blinked, thrown off for a second. "What?"

"You ramble, but it's adorable," he repeated, this time with that signature Ollie grin that made your stomach flip. He reached out, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered near your cheek, warm and soft.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. "I’m not rambling… am I?"

"You absolutely are," Ollie teased, leaning forward so that his face was inches from yours. "But don’t stop. I like it when you talk about stuff like this. It’s like... I can see how much it means to you, and I love seeing you so happy."

You playfully swatted his arm, but your heart was beating faster, the tender warmth of his words melting away any embarrassment. "Fine," you said, narrowing your eyes in mock seriousness, "but don’t complain when I start talking about the metaphors behind the lyrics."

"I wouldn’t dream of it." He pulled you closer, his arm slipping around your waist. His eyes softened as they held yours, and for a moment, the world outside your little bubble disappeared.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush of affection. But then Ollie deepened it, his hand cupping the side of your face as he pulled you impossibly closer, his lips warm and insistent, making your heart race even faster.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you couldn’t help but grin at him. "I think that was just a tactic to stop me from talking."

Ollie smirked, the mischievous glint in his eyes impossible to ignore. "Maybe," he admitted, his thumb grazing your lower lip, "but it worked, didn’t it?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that you were already melting under his touch. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing you in as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

"Seriously though," Ollie murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love listening to you talk. About Taylor Swift, about racing, about whatever it is that’s on your mind. You’re just so… passionate about everything, and it makes me love you even more."

The way he said it, so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made your heart skip a beat. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close again, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"You’re too sweet, Ollie," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He chuckled lightly, his arms tightening around you. "Only for you."

For a while, you both stayed like that—curled up in each other’s arms, the TV flickering in the background, the weight of the world outside fading away. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that this moment, with him holding you so gently, was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while, you shifted slightly, tilting your head up to look at him again. "Okay, but I’m serious about that love triangle. You have to admit it’s pretty genius, right?"

Ollie smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before nodding. "It’s genius," he agreed, even though he barely understood half of what you were saying. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way your eyes lit up, the way your voice danced with excitement. And if listening to Taylor Swift conspiracies made you this happy, then he would listen to every single one.

"Thanks for putting up with my rambling," you said, your voice softening.

Ollie smiled, brushing his lips against yours once more. "It’s not putting up with anything. I love it, and I love you."

And with that, he kissed you again—soft, sweet, and full of love. The kind of kiss that felt like home. The kind that made you feel like no matter what you rambled about, he would always be there to listen, to smile, and to love you through it all.

---The End---

-Lots of love, Em.

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serpentandlily · 11 months ago

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Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth Part III - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.

Warnings: angst angst angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part III

and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The First Attempt

Poison was probably the easiest and cleanest way to kill somebody. It involved very little effort on your part, just a slip of the hand to pour the poison into their drink when they weren't looking. It usually didn't involve blood or puke unless you got one of the nastier poisons, which you never did anyways. Some of the girls were more sadistic though and well, you couldn't blame them for it.

But while it was the simplest method of killing someone, it was probably one of the harder ones to pull off. First, faeries had very good senses, especially when it came to smell. One sniff of their drink could expose the poison in it, unless you were able to get your hands on one of the odorless ones. Those were more expensive though and Lydia and Keir certainly weren't willing to fund you guys besides your nightly rate from your clients.

However, when you had made a trip to the apothecary in the underbelly of Hewn City, you had begrudgingly forked over the money for one of those clear, odorless poisons. There was no way anything else would get past Azriel and his shadows.

Your heart ached in your chest as you stared at the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart in your pleasure room. Azriel had been kind to you. He had offered you some mercy by buying out your nights and not returning until that fateful meeting at the party. And while he clearly liked being more dominant while bedding you, his touch had been gentle, soft. No one had ever shown you such care and here you were, plotting out his murder.

But you simply had to do this. Freedom was only one dead body away for you. One more hit and you could finally wash your hands of this place, disappear to another court—perhaps one that would allow you to bathe in the sunlight for the rest of your days, something the citizens of Hewn City had never really experienced.

Kill Azriel.

Kill the shadowsinger and you'll be free to go.

Those had been Keir's exact words.

You had killed before. There was a time when your finger was covered in black lines, a new one added every time you didn't have enough money to pay the house fee or enough for food and had to borrow from Lydia. One every time you failed to perform for a client, no matter what they asked of you. But now you were down to one last mark.

One for the Shadowsinger.

One for Azriel.

You let out a sigh, sitting down at your vanity to brush your hair. Azriel was due to show up any moment now. Ever since that night at the party, he had been coming by at this time every single night. He would buy out all the nights Lydia would allow him to before showing up.

He never even made it seem like he expected sex on any given night. Sometimes the two of you would just cuddle in bed, whispering stories to each other about your lives. Sometimes he would come all tense and frustrated with whatever the High Lord had demanded of him. On those nights you would offer to give him a massage and listen to him complain about how much he hated his work. It seemed like the two of you had that in common, at the very least.

You hadn't made any attempts yet. You told yourself it was because you were planning out the best way to kill Azriel. Poison, knives, strangling. There were a multitude of ways to do it. But you knew deep down what the true reason was. You had grown fond of the Shadowsinger. You didn't want to kill him.

But your wants and needs had never really ever agreed with each other your whole life.

So here you were. Waiting for Azriel to come so you could poison him and be done with this Gods awful place. You wanted out of the labyrinth and unfortunately, this was the only way.

No matter how much you liked Azriel, he was the one standing in the way of your freedom.

You saw his shadows before him. They seeped underneath the door to your room like smoke. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of them before pure dread washed over you.

Kill Azriel.

Kill him.

A gentle knock on your door was heard before it was pushed open and the Shadowsinger stepped through the threshold, his beautiful face illuminated by the candlelight. His hazel eyes searched the room until they landed on you and you watched as they lit up ever so slightly—the most emotion he would allow himself to show.

You set your brush down and stood to face him. Azriel stalked forward and by his body language alone, you knew the sort of mood he was in. You braced yourself on the vanity behind you as he came to a halt in front of you, tilting your head up to stare at his lethal and devastatingly beautiful face.

He didn’t speak as he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you with a frenzy that lit your body on fire. You returned the passion, stringing your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him. His presence washed over you like a tempestuous storm, all encompassing. You lost yourself in it—in him.

You had never felt so taken by someone before. But being with Azriel was just so easy. He was a breath of fresh air in this otherwise suffocating labyrinth.

He pulled away all too soon.

You opened your eyes, heart pounding in your chest. “What was that for?”

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice hoarse.

You smiled up at him. “You saw me last night, silly.”

“And yet still I miss you the moment I leave.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck and your hands slid into his dark hair. He exhaled a breath that kissed the sensitive skin of your throat.

You didn’t want to say it out loud, but you felt the same way. Every second apart from Azriel felt like a lifetime. You gently raked your nails over his scalp and you felt his body loosen in your hold, finally relaxing.

Your eyes fell on the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart. So unassuming. So ordinary. But it held your freedom. You swallowed harshly as Azriel pulled away from you

“Go sit,” you said to him, nudging him in the direction of the couch. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

You watched him take a seat as you moved over to the bar cart. You picked up a whiskey glass, not even realizing how much your hands were shaking until you did so. You quickly set it back down on the cart, taking a deep breath.

You could do this.

All you had to do was just pour him a drink. Just one drink. That’s all it would take. One drink and he’d be dead within the hour. He’d be dead and your bargain with Keir would be over. You would be free.

“I need to make a trip back to Velaris before it gets too late.” Azriel’s voice caused you to jump, almost knocking over the whole cart. “I have to give my mission report to Rhys before the day is over.”

“You mean you haven’t gone to see the High Lord before coming here?”

“No,” Azriel answered. “I…I just wanted to see you first.”

Your heart snapped into a million pieces in your chest. You frowned, staring at the back of his head. You could hear the hesitation in his voice—could feel how much it had taken out of him to admit that. Azriel wasn’t very forthcoming, so to blatantly confess something like that…

Fuck, you couldn’t do this. Not like this. You couldn’t kill him like a Godsdamn coward.

You grabbed the decanter and dropped it on the floor, watching it smash into a million pieces just like your heart had. The whiskey splattered on the ground, soaking into the carpet. Azriel whipped around at the noise, eyebrows high.

You turned red and stuttered out, “Oops. I-It slipped right out of my hand.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. You quickly looked away, your heart pounding in your chest. You had been minutes away from killing him. Tears lined your eyes as you knelt down to start picking up the glass shards. Azriel was at your side in a second, grasping your elbow and pulling you up off the ground.

“Don’t touch it. You’ll cut yourself,” he murmured. “Let me take care of it.”

His care, his concern, it only made you feel so much worse. You sucked in a breath of air, trying to blink away the tears.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, grasping your face with his scarred hands. He lightly stroked your cheeks with his thumb. “What’s wrong?”

You stared up at him, into his devastating hazel eyes. “Why are you so kind to me?” Your voice cracked, your throat hoarse as you held back your cries. “I have done nothing to earn your care.”

“Earn my care? Angel, you don’t have to do anything to earn my care. I care for you because…because,” Azriel paused for a moment, almost like he was debating something. “Because you allow me an escape from my duties—from my incredibly lonely life. When I’m with you, I don’t think about anything else. There is nothing you need to do for me. Just allowing me to see you—to be with you—that is enough.”

“Azriel, I….” You wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to tell him about your bargain with Keir—about the steward’s demand that you kill him. But the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth. “I just wanted to help you relax and I’ve already messed it up. I’m sorry. Let me go down to the cellar to get another bottle—”

“I don’t need alcohol to relax. I just need you, angel.”

You were speechless. So utterly speechless. Any words you might’ve said got caught in your throat. All you could do was stare up at him—up at this beautiful male who had shown you he was nothing like the reputation that followed him around. He was gentle, kind, and so much better than anyone you’d ever met in this wretched city. He deserved so much more than this, so much more than you.

“Okay?” Azriel said, knocking you out of your thoughts.

You nodded your head, swallowing down your cries.

“Okay,” you murmured back.

Tonight you’d give him what he wanted. It was the least you could do.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel flew back to Velaris feeling lighter than he had in decades. It was probably irresponsible that he had gone to see his mate before giving his High Lord his mission report, but he had needed to see her. To feel her in his arms after the day he had in the Illyrian mountains.

Tonight had been a blessing. She always took care of him like she knew exactly what he needed. And tonight he had just needed to hold her. She had talked him into a massage, her hands magic against his skin and muscles and then they had just laid together, talking about everything and nothing.

He felt more rested than he would have if he had tried to go to sleep. He felt refreshed, buoyant—like he could take on anything that was thrown his way as long as he had his angel to return to.

It was nearing six in the morning now and he knew Rhys would be awake, usually tending to Nyx while Feyre got some desperately needed rest. He landed with a small thud in front of the River House and quietly made his way inside. He paused as his shadows whispered to him that Rhys was waiting in his office—no babe in sight.

When he opened the door to the office, Rhys was indeed waiting for him—arms crossed and his brows furrowed. Azriel quietly closed the door behind him, pulling out his report from the shadow realm and setting it on the desk in front of his High Lord. Rhys glanced down at it for a second before looking back at him.

“Azriel,” Rhys said, “Where have you been all night? I’ve been trying to reach you but your mental shields were up.”

Azriel cleared his throat before answering. “I had a matter to attend to before I came here.”

He kept his voice devoid of any emotion. He didn’t want anyone to find out about her yet—his angel. She was his for now. His secret, his love, his mate.

Rhys raised an eyebrow at him, nostrils flaring. “Is this matter the reason why you smell of cheap perfume and aphrodisiacs?”

Azriel shrugged, nonchalantly. “This matter is none of your business.”

“Am I wrong to assume that your scent means that you’ve taken my advice?”

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw twitched but he refrained from speaking in anger. “Everything you need to know about the mission is in that report,” he said, nodding towards the file on Rhys’s desk. “If that is all, I will take my leave.”

Rhys frowned. “No, that is not all. Please, sit, Azriel. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Azriel begrudgingly sat in the armchair in front of Rhys’s desk. All he wanted to do was go back to his apartment and get ready to see his angel again in a few hours. He’d once again bought out all her time slots, leaving her with no clients other than himself. Meanwhile, he tried every night to convince her to leave with him, to return with him to Velaris. But something was holding her back…or perhaps she didn’t feel for him the way he did for her.

That was a depressing thought that he frequently lingered on.

“What is it?” Azriel asked, wanting to get this conversation over with.

Rhys rubbed his jaw, his striking violet eyes assessing Azriel. “I’ve been meaning to apologize for the way I spoke to you on Solstice Night. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t angry when I saw you and Elain together, so ready to make your…affections known in plain sight—especially when she has yet to reject the bond with Lucien. But I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”

Azriel tensed in his chair at the memory of that night—at the cruel words Rhys had thrown his way. But unlike before, no hurt came from the memory. No hurt, no longing, no despair. Nothing. Instead, where that hole had been in his chest before was now filled with thoughts and longing for his angel…his sweet mate.

“It’s fine,” Azriel replied, stiffly. “You did the right thing. It would have been a political nightmare had Lucien seen us.”

Rhys nodded. “It would’ve. Especially with how many ties he has to other courts—other courts we’re still trying to repair our reputation with. But I treated you like one of my subjects that night and not like a friend. It wasn’t just Lucien I was thinking of, but you too, Azriel. I don’t want to see you hurt if you give your all to Elain and she decides to pursue the bond further down in the line.”

“It wasn’t your choice to make. It was mine,” Azriel can’t help but say. To his surprise, Rhys nodded his agreement.

“You're right. It is not my choice nor is it my life to live,” Rhys said. “Which is why I’ve decided to rescind my orders for you to stay away from her. I just ask that if you two do pursue something together, please use discretion—especially when Lucien is around. At least until she fully rejects the bond or tells him of her own affairs. Is that reasonable enough?”

Azriel stood from his seat. “I appreciate the apology, Rhys. But everything else is not needed. I have no plans to pursue Elain or court her. Is that all?”

Rhys stood as well, his jaw flexing. “So I was right, then? You were willing to throw away our relations with other courts for a female you have no interest in months later? Azriel, I can’t even speak to how irresponsible that would’ve been.”

“Well, nothing happened. You intervened at the right moment,” Azriel said, coldly.

Rhys studied him again. “No, that isn’t like you, Az. Something else has happened. Does this have anything to do with that female you had hanging off you in Hewn City? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with a prostitute of all people now.”

Anger striked through Azriel like lightning.

“Watch how you speak about her,” he snarled, hands flexing.

Rhys gaped at him with a disbelieving look. “Godsdamnit, Azriel. Are you that desperate for love that you have truly fallen for someone you’re paying to be in your company?”

“If you are truly my brother,” Azriel growled. “If you truly have my best interest in mind, then you will drop this now. I don’t need your advice or your concern.”

“Of course I have your best interests in mind! But, Azriel, this is lunacy. I don’t know what that female has told you, but she only cares for your money. If you had any sense, you’d put a stop to this—”

Azriel lunged forward, slamming his hands on Rhys’s desk, shadows spiraling around him.

“I said,” he snapped, bearing his teeth, his voice as cold as ice. “Watch how you speak about her.”

Rhys’s mouth dropped open in shock and before he could say anything else, Azriel disappeared in a flurry of shadows. He needed to leave, far too tempted to rearrange Rhys’s face with his fists. So he let his shadows take him somewhere else he knew he could let off steam—the training ring.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The Second Attempt

Azriel was laying next to you, fast asleep. Even his shadows had rescinded to the dark corners of the room, content to leave their master in your hands. The hands that were currently holding a dagger, shaking as you straddled his sleeping body.

Why was this so hard?

You had killed plenty of males like this before.

But as you stared down at Azriel’s beautifully peaceful face, something ached terribly in your chest. He looked so much more boyish when he slept. His dark hair tousled, his large wings relaxed, the harsh lines of his face smoothed out.

The room was dark except for the singular candle on your nightstand, half illuminating his handsome face. He was nude from the waist up, his swirling Illyrian tattoos on display—tattoos you often traced over as the two of you laid in bed together.

It had taken a while for Azriel to actually fall asleep in your presence. The first few times he had spent the night, you had woken up to him holding you in his arms, staring at you as though you were his entire world—like nothing else mattered in that moment but you. It had caused your heart to flutter and ache.

But now here he was, asleep. A sign that he trusted you now. Trusted that he could sleep and not have to be vigilant. And he looked so vulnerable like this. Gentle and soft. Nowhere was the usual foreboding and threatening aura that followed him around.

So vulnerable.

So unassuming.

So clueless that you were currently straddling him with a dagger held above your head, ready to strike.

You blinked as you felt watchful eyes on you, freezing. His shadows had meandered out of the dark recesses of the room, slowly crawling your way—like they were giving you the opportunity to stop this yourself before they intervened.

You let out a deep breath and lowered your arms.

Poisoning him had been a coward’s move and so was killing him in his slumber. If his shadows had any sense, they’d strangle you right here and now. You fell off of him, laying back down at his side. The shadows rescinded, the threat gone in their eyes.

But as long as your freedom was dependent on Azriel’s life, he would always be in danger around you. No matter how much you wished to not hurt him. No matter what you felt for him.

Azriel had to die.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel had never felt happiness like this before you. Not truly. He hadn’t even known it, hadn’t known that this was something he could feel. But here he was, his heart full and his mind at peace. There was only one thing that could make this better than it was.

He ghosted his scarred fingers over your bare back, lightly touching your soft skin. You were laying on your stomach next to him, nude except for the silk sheets pulled to your waist.

His lips twitched as you let out a tiny noise of satisfaction at his touch, turning your head on your folded hands so you could stare up at him.

He would never tire of staring at you—at your beautiful, serene face. Your alias made perfect sense. Serenity. That was what you made him feel. Though he felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of how many other males might’ve felt like this around you.

The only solace he had now was making sure that you were his from now on. He didn’t care how much money he had to spend to keep you occupied with him. So long as it meant you’d be his angel and no one else’s.

You smiled up at him and the sight was so breathtaking, he lost his train of thought.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked in that sweet voice that melted his ice cold heart.

“You,” Azriel replied, honestly.

You scrunched your nose at him, your smile growing. He trailed a finger down the slope of it, watching your eyes flutter at his soft touch.

“That’s what you always say.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s the truth.”

“You're sweet,” you teased, making him chuckle.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever described me as sweet, Angel.”

It was your turn to shrug a shoulder. “You’re sweet to me.”

“You’re special,” he said, so genuinely that it made your heart skip a beat.

“Am I?”

“Yes,” he said, brushing your hair off your back and over your shoulder. “Of course you are.”

You closed your eyes with a hum, content as he began to trace lines down your back again.

“Can I ask you something?”

Your eyes flew open, brows furrowing. You gave him a small nod, curiously.

“Do you…” he trailed off for a second, his voice lacking the sureness it had a moment ago. “Do you…feel this—this thing between us the way I do?”

“Azriel,” you warned, making his hand pause on your back. This was a topic you tried to stray away from with clients. You weren’t supposed to develop true feelings for any of them and you hadn’t. Not until…

“I know, I know,” he said quickly. “I understand your line of work. But I…I can’t help what I feel, Angel. Tell me you feel it too.”

You frowned, a nasty feeling coiling in your gut. It should be easy to say no. But that wouldn’t be the truth, would it? No, the truth was you did feel it—that fiery energy between the two of you. Azriel was different. He didn’t feel like a client. He called you by your real name, knew personal details about your life. All things you had shared for some unknown reason.

All you knew was that you had wanted to share those things with him so you did. You wanted Azriel in a way you’d never wanted anyone else. You wanted to know him, craved his presence when he was gone, loved being with him like this.

The line between the two of you was so blurred, you weren’t sure it had ever existed in the first place.

You looked back up at him, your eyes conveying the things you couldn’t yet say out loud. Because you couldn’t let yourself feel like this.

But Azriel stared back at you, knowingly, like he could read everything you had spelled out in your mind. “You don’t have to say it, Angel. I just need to know.”

You rolled onto your back, letting out a sigh. “Azriel, we can’t—”

“Why not?” He cut in. “Why not, Angel? If you…if you feel something for me then please, take me up on my offer. Let me take you to Velaris. You don’t even have to live with me. I can buy you your own apartment and anything you need. You’d never have to work again. I could take care of you, Angel, the way you deserve to be taken care of.”

And what a life that would be. Free of this place, of this gods awful city. Free to live with Azriel. Free to do as you please. Free to bask under the sun, to see the stars in all their glory—no longer buried under this mountain.

But it wasn’t possible. It was a dream and only a dream. So long as that mark was still on your finger, this was all you could offer him before he’d meet his demise.

“Azriel, I can’t,” you murmured. “You know this.”

“But why? Whatever reason or worry you have, tell me. I can’t stand leaving you here day and night. I can’t stand the thought of another having you.”

You rose from the bed, hiding your face from his sight so he didn’t see the tears lining your eyes. You quickly shrugged on a night gown, hugging yourself as you lingered by your dresser.

You didn’t want to talk about this. You didn’t want to confront this head on. You couldn’t. Just like your other dreams, it would never come true for you.

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he had pushed too far but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry. I’ll drop it just please come back to bed.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You should kick him out, send him home. You should tell him to never come back even if it meant you’d be stuck in this place forever without his death on your hands.

“Please,” he whispered. “Come back.”

The pure desperation in his voice had you folding. You laid back down next to him, let him take you in his strong arms once again.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The Third Attempt

It had taken at least twenty minutes for you to lug Azriel off the bed and into the chair that you dragged into the center of the room. The faebane laced sleep draught had done its part in this scheme. Azriel had been knocked out, his shadows nowhere to be seen.

And now you were tying him to the chair with some strong rope, in knots you knew he wouldn't be able to undo.

Another week had gone by with no attempts on his life due in part to your growing feelings for the shadowsinger. But a visit from Keir had you snapping out of whatever hold Azriel had on you. You needed to do this. You needed to kill him and put an end to this. It wasn't fair, it was never going to be fair but it had to happen.

Out of all the males you had killed, you knew this was the only one that would linger with you for the rest of your life. But it was a necessary sacrifice if it meant you could not only leave this awful city but this Labyrinth too.

You decided you weren't going to be a coward about this. Azriel deserved to be looked in the eyes as you killed him, otherwise the shame might just eat you alive. It would be so much easier to just try and poison him again but you knew this was the only way it would get done. Maybe you could explain it to him, maybe he would understand.

Hell, part of you was hoping he'd fight his way from the binds and end your life himself. Would that be a better outcome to this mess?

You were still debating that.

For now you leaned against the wall, fiddling with your dagger as you waited for him to wake up. You had spent all last night making sure he was happy—content. You had given him everything. Your body, your heart, your mind. It would be your last gift to him.

But your freedom was hanging in the air between the two of you and that far outweighed anything else. You had been lost in this labyrinth for far too long. It was time for you to finally find your way out. Unfortunately, your way out was through th—killing the one male who had made you feel things you'd never thought you would.

"A-Angel?"

Azriel's hoarse voice made you stand up straight, your gaze falling on him tied to the chair. He blinked a few times, still a bit drowsy from the draught. You watched as he slowly realized his predicament, that he was tied up and without his shadows. He yanked at the binds that had his arms held behind his back, strung up to the chair.

"Angel," he repeated, finally catching sight of you, "What...what is this? Why...why am I tied up?"

You stalked forward and he noticed the dagger you held in your hand. His eyes went wide with alarm and he stared up at you in disbelief. He tried to yank himself free again, making the wood of the chair groan.

“What are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to do this,” you started with a sigh.

Azriel stopped his struggling, raising an eyebrow at you. “Do what?”

“Kill you,” you said, bluntly.

Azriel was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your brows furrowed in confusion at his reaction. Normally this was when males started demanding you untie them or pleading for their lives depending on how much pride they had.

“What’s so funny?” You snapped, taking a step closer to him.

Azriel shook his head, his laughter fading. “You’re not going to kill me.”

You frowned. “I am. I have to.”

Azriel leaned back in the chair, his wings held out proudly. He had completely ceased his struggling, all the alarm gone from his eyes. “And pray tell, Angel, why do you have to kill me?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered quickly, trying to regain your composure. “Not to you anyways.”

“Well, seeing as I am the one about to die,” Azriel remarked, so nonchalantly, “then I think it does matter.”

He smirked at you, furthering your confusion. Why was he acting so…so calm?! You narrowed your eyes at him, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Why are you smiling?” You huffed, fisting his hair and pulling his head back to expose his throat. You pressed the dagger against his pulse point.

“It’s cute that you think you’re in control here,” he shrugged, that smile not leaving his face.

“I am in control here,” you snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the one tied up!”

“Am I?” He drawled out before yanking at the binds again. “Ah, you’re right. I am.”

You stepped away from him with a sneer. “Why are you acting like this!”

“Like what, Angel?” He smirked at you again, flicking his hair out of his face.

“Like I’m not about to kill you! Like you’re not about to die!”

“I’m hoping we can talk this out,” Azriel shrugged.

“There is nothing to talk about,” you growled, frustrated. You’d expected some yelling or shouts from him, maybe a few pleas thrown in but not whatever this was.

“I beg to differ,” he replied, “seeing as I’m about to die, I’d like to know why.”

“Because…you…I—fuck!” You turned away from him, holding the sides of your head in exasperation. You squeezed your eyes shut, Keir’s words replaying in your head on repeat.

The smile dropped from Azriel’s face at the show of your distress. “Angel, come on. Just drop the dagger and talk to me. Whoever has put you up to this can be dealt with.”

“You don’t understand,” you cried out.

“Then make me understand,” Azriel pleaded. “Please.”

“I have to kill you, Azriel,” you wept. “I have to or I’ll be stuck here forever.”

“Stuck here? Stuck in The Labyrinth?”

“Yes!” You let out a tiny sob, still not facing him. “If I don’t….if I don’t kill you, I won’t be able to leave.”

“Angel,” Azriel whispered, “Why would you be stuck here? If you need help leaving, I’ve already offered to get you out.”

You whirled around to face him. “I can’t just leave, don’t you get it! I can’t just walk out of here like you. I’m trapped.”

“Trapped? Angel, please explain it to me. You’re not making any sense.”

“I was so, so stupid. So stupid, so naive,” you cried.

“Just tell me what it is,” Azriel said, gently. “Let me help you!”

“You can’t,” you whispered, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. “You can’t help me. Not with this.”

“Why?”

“Because I made a bargain with Keir,” you said, staring down at the dagger in your hand. “All the girls here have to do it. We get to work here, not get sold off and eventually we will be allowed to leave but…”

“Not without a price,” Azriel filled in the blanks. “So what do you owe Keir favors or something?”

You shook your head. “We’re given marks and targets. He tells us a name and we…we kill them for him.”

“And let me guess, Keir gave you my name?”

“Yes, he did,” you sighed. “You’re supposed to be my last mark. After this…I’ll be free.”

Silence fell over the room. Silence until Azriel uttered one sentence.

“So kill me.”

Your head shot up in surprise. “W-what?”

“Kill me,” he repeated, staring directly into your eyes. “If it means you’ll be free, if it means you can leave this place and have a life of your own…kill me.”

“Azriel,” you murmured. “I—”

Azriel yanked himself out of the binds, causing you to gasp. He gripped your arm and dragged you to him, angling the dagger right against his heart.

“Do it, Angel,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Kill me. I want you to be free. I want a better life for you. So kill me.”

You stared at him, tears pouring down your face. Your hand was shaking as you held the dagger against his skin. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Azriel was giving you his permission, telling you to do it, to kill him.

He kept a firm grip on your wrist, burying the dagger deeper so it pricked his skin. A small droplet of blood formed, sliding down his bare chest. “Do it, Angel, please.”

“I-I…I can’t,” you sobbed. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself to push the dagger straight through to his heart, you couldn’t. “I can’t.”

“Why?” Azriel asked. “Why can’t you?”

“I just…I can’t—”

“Why!” Azriel shouted, making you jump. Your hand was shaking so bad now, tears still streaming down your cheeks. “Why can’t you do it! Tell me why!”

“I don’t know,” you stuttered out through a sob. “I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do,” Azriel said, sternly. “You know why.”

You shook your head, sobbing. He pressed the dagger deeper into his skin. “Why can’t you kill me, Angel? Come on, you know. You know why.”

He was right.

You knew why.

You’d known all along. Since the moment you had laid eyes on him that night he came to your room. Something deep inside of you had recognized it and subconsciously buried it. But you couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Say it,” Azriel demanded. “You know why. Say it!”

You let out a sob.

“You’re….you’re my mate.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs

@jesskidding3 @landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin

@fayeatheart @brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous

@chxosangxl @daardyrnitta @seasonallyapril @janebirkln @marvelouslovely-barnes

@frobrotbaggins @purple-writer8 @scooobies @superspideyparker @feyretopia

@sidthedollface2 @xmalfoyweasleyx @slut4acotar @stbwe @shedreamswithstars

@quinzzelx @sevikas-whore @fightmedraco @ubigaia @sunshineangel-reads

@tothestarsandwhateverend @i-am-infinite @scatteredstardustt @rosessndri @sweetestrose569 @roses-r-red54330 @mell-bell @esteriiqww @y0urm0m12 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @adharanotfound

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel angst

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one-green-frog · 2 months ago

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Hi!

Can I request a yandere platonic batfam with a willing readers like your most recent fics who is a total bookworm

Like imagine a male or gn version of belle from beauty and the beast

And they see that they’re getting a bit bored so they show them the library

Lost In Pages

Platonic yandere batfam x bookworm m!reader

The Wayne Manor had quickly become your new home, surrounded by loved ones that practically begged to take care of you. It became your new safe space, where nothing bad could happen. Not to mention that the manor was huge! It was so spacious that nearly every corner could be your little " private reading space. Book in hand an blanket wrapped around you as you flipped page after page, enjoying the story. Or well you used to.

As of late you just lost motivation, not because the book was bad, it really wasn't, but there are only so many times you cam reread it before it becomes simply too repetitive. You could always ask one of them to buy you a new book, but you didn't want to use them, doesn't matter that they are billionaires.

Your demeanor didn't get unnoticed by anyone. They always notice. And they are quick to figure out what's wrong too. Of course they saw that you were staring at the book in your lap with disinterest, heavy sigh leaving your lips.

Dick approached you, charming smile on his lip "You know that we have a library, like a huge one? Why don't we go down there?"

Oh, apparently every rich person had a private library. To say you practically stormed down there was an understatement. No one had mention this secret library before, of course you would be excited to go there.

Throwing the door open you saw heaven. Rows upon rows, farther than you could see, filled with books. And the decor! This was probably the most expensive and most beautiful library you have ever seen.

Now your days were filled with hour long reading sessions here, enjoying every single new story that came before your eyes.

And the others were happy too. They may have forgotten to show you the library before, figuring that during the tour of the manor someone mentioned it, but that's in the past now.

Dick, while not the biggest book fan, would take up some of the shorter novels you read. Something to connect to. But usually he'd just sit next to you, as you read, having you lean against him. It made him feel so close to you, so connected, that he was still a part of your routine. You too were happy to have him by your side, Dick is amazingly warm, and comfy to lean on and even while you were immersed in your book you still enjoyed the company. Dick loved being so close to you, being able to constantly have you in his arms. It made his pride grow, you were so comfortable with him that you spent you special time with him. As a big brother he strived that all of his siblings could trust him and the fact that you so openly showed it made him

Jason was probably your favorite. Just like you he'd spent hours upon hours in this library. He was part of your own little book club, where you would spend all your time discussing every book you read, what the author was implying or how certain character actions are metaphors. It was fantastic. The library brought you closer than anything else ever could, it was the place where you two could meet and no one would dare disrupt you too. Alfred hardly came by, only dropping off hot tea each time, he knew you two would be to focused on the conversation, but he still did not want to interrupt. Jason loved being able to connect with you like no other, it means that in some way he is special, he is better, that he was allowed to stay by your side, since no one else could understand you like he did.

While Tim couldn't be called a book lover, he did rea dsome sort of detective novels. For him it was always easy figuring out who the perpetrator was, but he still liked reading them since it was like a downtime for his brain. Tim would recommend you a few books he read, giving you clues, helping you figure out the killer, teaching you the ways of a detective. It was fun, sharing ideas and motives, trying to figure everything out before the book ends and Tim always seemed to know everything, like a walking search engine. You picked up quite a few "detective skills" and the books seemed to get easier to decipher. Tim loved being able to ramble about the story of the book, finally someone who would just listen. That's what makes you so special, that's why he needed you by his side.

Duke was your average guy. Someone who read classic but other than that he didn't really show an interest for books. Sitting down for hours just reading seemed to normal for him, just a bit boring in his opinion. Not that he means your hobby is boring, no, everything about you is perfect just the way it is. Duke usually laid in your bed while you walked around the room explaining a plot twist in the book your currently reading. You would excitedly talk and talk, never once stopping because you knew he was listening, just listening, taking in every word you said, and he would never try to stop you. No, this was your time and he'd make sure you enjoyed every single minute of it. He loved watching you get excited, the way your eyes lit up made his heartbeat quicken. His eyes were just totally fixated on you, the center of his world.

Then there is Damian. Even as a young boy he was well versed in many types of literature, though his favorite form was poems. He talked about different poets, different ways the poems could be interpreted, the raw emotions, the dedication they showed. Oftentimes he even wrote some poems himself, dedicated to you. Other times he would share his favorites with you. Damian enjoyed having a person to share his interests in. The way you wouldn't just brush him off. Wouldn’t just look past him. He loved that you could think for yourself, interpret the meaning of each poem, appreciate the beauty of a masterpiece. Finally spending time with someone that knew more than just the basics. Conversing for hours about how different factors changed the way a poet wrote. Damian truly appreciated that the manor was now home to such a lovingly dedicated person that appreciate all different kinds of literature.

And Bruce? He was the one that made everything happen in secret. He watched happily as his family was brought together by you, listened as conversation were held for hours with no fight. If it meant buying every book he could get his hands on, then so be it, sometimes even buying doubles just so you could keep one in your room. Money certainly wasn't an issue for him and making you happy means making the family happy. Unlike the other he would not directly engage with you, no, he would simply stand by the doorway and watch. Watch as his children, his family enjoyed their time. You gave all of them a sense of normalcy, a saving grace, someone to cling to in their dark times. He watched as something ad simply as reading could save his family.

Taglist: @lilyalone

Thank you so much for requesting!

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adieutristana · 7 days ago

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hellooo !! not sure if you’ve done something like this before, but i thought it woudlve been SOOO cute but also bittersweet if there was a scenario where after jinx’s attempt, the reader helps her cut off parts of her hair, and they spend the rest of the time painting each other and getting the helicopter thing all painted before the war. basically what people wanted through the timebomb cut scenes but with reader !! (plus, it would be even cuter if the reader was painting jinx’s face and there they would have their first kiss :3 THE YEARNNNN. so it’s a little angsty but overall fluff)

thank you !! (i LOVEE ur writing sm and im sorry if this is too long LOOLL)

of course! thank you for the request, and thank you for your kind words <3 i’ll do my best to do your request justice!

summary; the month leading up to the final battle.

characters included; jinx

tags/warnings; hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers, mentions of poor mental health, snippets instead of one story, mentions of war/combat, yearning, getting together

men dni.

the first night was the hardest.

you'd talked jinx off that ledge, convinced her to come back to your apartment with you. she'd been a mess the entire walk back, shaking like a lost kitten. lower lip trembling while she practically sunk into herself.

"i'm tired of talking," she'd said- so as much as it pained you, you didn't ask her questions. didn't try to understand where that urge was coming from. you were just there, a comforting presence for the girl in a time where she couldn't rely on herself. even if jinx feels as if life is pointless, there's no good version of her, you'll always be there for her to fall back on. that won't ever change.

you let her use your shower and given her a pair of your pajamas to change into. you gave the girl her privacy while she washed herself off, but she didn't know that you sat on the other side of the door the entire time. you couldn't bear the thought of leaving your friend alone, not after what she'd just tried to do. broken sobs were audible over running water- it crushed you.

but it's good that jinx is letting it out. if what she needs is to cry in the shower, she can do it all she pleases. even before this, you'd have done anything for her, but especially now. anything for just the possibility of seeing light return to those wide eyes.

"you can take the bed," you murmur, already bringing blankets to the floor to make yourself a space for the night. jinx is stood at the foot of your bed, still, face unmoving. but she slowly shakes her head.

"it's your bed," she replies. "i'll be fine on the floor."

"jinx, you're a guest, and you've had a... rough day. just take the bed."

she opens her mouth as if she's about to say something, but nothing comes out. the girl just sighs, and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed while you continue making your space for the night. just observing, perched on your bed. you gather a few pillows, and the 'bed' for the night is done.

turning back to jinx with the most reassuring look you can muster, you give her one last glance before cutting the lights. then pitch black, and a rustling of sheets as she settles in. the place you've made for yourself on hard wood and blankets isn't exactly comfortable, but it'll do for tonight. right now, jinx is your priority.

you lay down, letting your head hit the pillow and closing your eyes, but your mind keeps drifting back to the events of that day. jinx, stood on a ledge. grenade in her hand, deadpan stare, tear-stained cheeks. her voice with an even heavier rasp than usual, and her tone resolute. if you hadn't been there to stop her, jinx would very likely be dead right now. dead and gone.

you don't want to think about her passing, especially not like that. but the images keep flashing in your memory, and it's hard to put a stop to it. you toss, and you turn, you switch positions to try and get your body to finally succumb, but nothing.

"...are you still awake?"

you grumble a bit at the sudden whisper, but you nod- as if jinx could see you right now.

"yeah," you murmur. "what's up?"

"could you come up here?"

that catches you off guard, but maybe she just needs something. another blanket, maybe? or some white noise? you slowly stand up, gaining your bearings in the dark, before sitting on the edge. you can see the faint glow of pink that jinx's eyes carry, but beyond that, nothing.

"is something wrong?"

"no, i just... don't wanna be alone right now," she whispers, sheepish. as if she's ashamed to admit it. your heart catches in your throat, but you slowly nod. "could you just stay with me? lay down, maybe?"

"i... yeah, if that's what you want."

"mhm."

wordlessly, you lay yourself down on the bed, jinx scooting over to make room for you. it's a bit cramped- a twin, but neither of you mention that right now. she rolls over to face you, and although she doesn't make any move to touch you, or to speak, it's obvious that she's more relaxed.

just jinx, laying beside you, curled into herself while her eyes slip shut again. it's in that moment that you decide to stay awake, just until she's asleep, at least. to make sure that she's okay- nothing else (or that's what you tell yourself).

seconds go by, then minutes, and the girl's breathing begins to even out. steady and deep, in through her nose, out through her mouth. you don't move, only listen as she succumbs to slumber. in your bed, under your blankets, across from you. after she'd tried to take her life.

life is weird like that, you suppose- but you've always known your friend was a bit troubled. always cared for her, despite all of the awful things she thought of herself and all of the things she'd done. where she saw a monster, you saw a scared young woman. you've been the one constant in jinx's life who wasn't trying to get her to carry out dirty work or cause harm, just wanted to be there for her.

though now that she's asleep, you suppose you can let yourself rest too.

✧.*

by the second week, she started to settle in.

she didn't want to go back to her hideout, not after everything that had happened. it had once served as a sanctuary, but now is a physical reminder of everything- silco, isha, vi, her failed attempt on her life. every tag on the wall glaring at her as if mocking her, calling her weak. a failure.

but your apartment is devoid of that. it's a place she's seen before, but never stayed in for even a night. those nights turned into weeks, and strangely, the girl could find herself growing used to this.

it isn't easy, not by any means. still, you wake up several nights to the sound of her choked sobs, sitting up to embrace her trembling form. you whisper hushed reassurances to jinx- yes, she should be here. yes, there is a purpose for all of this, even if she can't quite see it. yes, you're here to stay, no, you won't ever leave her. you aren't doing this out of pity, you genuinely care about her and want to see her get back on her feet.

obstacles will always be there, you accepted that the moment you started calling jinx your friend. but you're here for the long run- and each day is a little easier.

you've got a bit of a routine, and it's the same every morning: you're up first. jinx usually has a harder time sleeping, so you let her rest until whenever her body's had enough. she comes stumbling into the kitchen to a box of sugar-packed cereal, a carton of milk, a spoon, and an empty bowl. you've offered to make her something a bit more substantial, but she refuses each time.

"it's almost noon," you muse, sitting down across from jinx. her shoulder-length hair is a bit tousled from sleep, though you'd been the one brushing it for her the first week. she got a handle on doing it herself within this week, but it was always after she was more... awake. "long night?"

"couldn't sleep," she murmurs, sleep still heavy in her voice. "just kinda... stayed awake, looking at the ceiling."

you quirk an eyebrow, and then hear the sound of cereal being poured.

"find anything interesting up there?"

"i wish."

you've found that jinx is starting to get a bit of her usual spunk back- that's a good sign. she isn't fully herself, though you're not sure she will be again. at least, not the jinx you know, not after everything that had happened.

but the night before, you received your first ever noise complaint, and it was because of jinx's music. while usually, you'd be irritated beyond belief, and with anyone else you might've kicked them out, you only found yourself relieved.

even though you had asked her to please turn down the stereo at least a little bit, your chest felt lighter seeing her falling back into her element. the song was some off-the-wall pop-rock tune, probably one of those underground bands she loved so much. your apartment is a place of tranquility. you eat, work, sleep, repeat.

but now you have someone with you, and it's odd. not odd in the negative, 'leave-me-alone' way, but odd in the way that you're not used to spending this much time with someone outside of your family. jinx isn't your responsibility, she's never been. but you do feel an urgency to take care of her and make sure that she's as content as she can be, at least right now. call it being a good friend.

she gulps down the now-colorful milk, then sets the bowl on your table with a subtle clink.

"that stuff never gets old."

"yeah? i'll have to get some more just for you, then," you chuckle, before taking her dishes and placing them in the sink. she's already gone through four boxes of that same cereal since being here.

"so, what's on the agenda for today?"

you pause, pursing your lips as your fingertips drum on the countertop.

"hm... nothing, really. i don't have any work to do, so we just have the day to ourselves."

you can't see her, but you can hear the girl gasp slightly. now she's more awake, and you recognize the look she gives you. that's the look that tells you you're in trouble.

"there's this junkyard i've been wanting to visit, they might have some parts i can use-" she perks up, a light grin tugging at her lips. "or, somewhere i can paint! that'd be fun, right?"

you shake your head in light amusement, but can't stop the smile that takes over your features.

"you can't be blowing stuff up in here, y'know. it's not like your place, i've got a landlord to answer to."

the girl frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. her nose scrunches a bit, huffing. ever dramatic, jinx is.

"but that's stupid-"

"tell me about it."

"come onnnn. can't we get just a few things, to keep my hands busy? no explosions."

you quirk a brow at that, leaning a bit closer over the table to really look at jinx. her expression is still tinged with mischief, but the way she's been up until now... of course you want to do something for her. not out of pity, but just a nice deed for your friend.

"you promise? no explosions at all? not even a little spark?"

"not even a spark. i promise." she hums, even extending her pinky towards you. you just scoff in response, but link your pinky with hers. now, it's official.

"alright, alright. i'll take you."

✧.*

during the third week, you realized you were catching feelings for jinx.

it's strange. you've known her for years, and you've never felt like that towards her- or have you? it's the act of realizing these feelings that throws you for a loop. you've always cared deeply for her, always wanted nothing but the best for her. you could never help the way that you worried when she got herself into yet another risky job.

but that's the way jinx is, and above all, you've never questioned or judged her. only worried for her safety. but as jinx put it-

"i'm a big girl, i can handle a few cuts and scratches."

despite said 'cuts and scratches' usually being bullet holes and stab wounds, you just had to take her word for it. she always came back in one piece, after all, but you couldn't shake the worry that one day, she wouldn't. you'd lose her. you almost did.

but there's no point in dwelling.

"i wanna cut my hair." she announces, hands on her hips. she's holding a trimmer in her hand that she got janna-knows-where (certainly not from your bathroom), her wide eyes lit with mischief.

"right now?"

"mhm, right now!" she confirms, already charging towards you and taking your arm. she links her elbow with yours to begin leading you toward the bathroom. "i can't exactly see the back of my head, so you've gotta help."

well, that doesn't leave you much choice. but you're not complaining, this might even be fun. it probably will be, knowing jinx.

by the time you're situated at the bathroom sink, stood behind the girl and looking over the shoulder-length cut she's got going on right now, she's practically bouncing on her heels. patience has never been a strength of jinx's.

"so... what do you wanna do with it?"

your fingers card through the short blue locks, ones you're so used to seeing tied in loose braids. you wouldn't admit it out loud, especially not to yourself, but the change looks good on her. beautiful, even. it illuminates her features a bit more, lets her figure be seen a little more freely. where there was once a sea of azure, it's now like a still picture of the night sky: just as stunning, but different. a good different.

"mm.. kinda wanna shave it off."

your eyes widen momentarily, but you try not to let the surprise show in your voice. "like, a buzzcut?"

"yeah, kinda! but... i wanna leave this part," she hums, twirling her bangs around her index finger. "not a full buzz."

her eyes fixed on herself in the mirror as you plug in the trimmer and it comes to life with a subtle bzzzz. you situate yourself directly behind her, then take a chunk of choppy hair- glancing back up at her through the mirror, as if to silently ask if she's sure. she just gives a slight nod, and that's all the permission you need to take off that first chunk of hair.

that falls to the floor- followed by another section, then another, as you work your way around her head. truth be told, you've never worked one of these things before, you haven't the slightest clue what you're doing. but it's getting rid of her hair, and she isn't complaining about her reflection, so you've gotta be doing something right.

seeing her new hairstyle take shape in real time is... bizarre, but sweet. it's sweet that you get to be the one to do this for her.

once you're at the final stages, right before that bit of bang she's still holding back, you make one final swipe with the trimmers before setting them down. you'll worry about the mess of blue on the floor and in the sink later. your hands tentatively find jinx's shoulders, squeezing as you see her eyes light up.

"it's... wow," she breathes out, turning her head this way and that to look at the new style. "different. definitely different."

"that it is," you hum, giving her slim shoulders a gentle squeeze. "do you like it?"

she just nods slowly, eyes still wide and curious. her lips are parted, but in the shape of a little smile. after so many years of having floor-length hair, she's bound to be a little shocked by the sight of all of it gone. truth be told, though, she looks gorgeous- she always does. you weren't sure what to expect of this haircut exactly, but a lingering feeling told you that jinx will always look beautiful. no matter what she does- she just has that effortless pull to her. plump lips, bright eyes, sweet freckles, a voice that could bring you to tears.

oh, gods. you're in deep.

"i like it," she whispers, then shakes her head. "i love it. you did a damn good job, toots."

toots? that's a new one. you just chuckle lightly, unplugging the trimmer before you turn back to face the girl. she's turned to face you, too, and it's then that you realize just how close you are. close enough to see the shadow her eyelashes cast on her cheeks, and to feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. a flush creeps up your neck faster than you can control it, but you only can hope at this point that she won't notice.

"...thank you," you manage. "i tried."

she just keeps that same smile, tilting her head a little bit in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"you're a good friend."

✧.*

during the fourth week, jinx was devising a plan.

the tensions between piltover and noxus were coming to a head. not only were people in danger, but one of those people was her sister. despite all of the spats, each argument and cruel word thrown at her, jinx loves vi. she always will, even if that love manifests itself in a rather unconventional way.

she can't just sit there and do nothing. and well, jinx loves a grand entrance.

jinx has decided to revisit her hideout, with the excuse that she has 'unfinished business' and something to do. something that she can't do in your cramped apartment. what exactly that is, she keeps a secret, but you've learned in this past month that you'll follow jinx anywhere she leads. even though you could question her, you don't feel the need to.

"hey! c'mere, would you?" she calls out over her shoulder, a wide grin on her face.

you've been laying across her tattered couch filling out some notes from a lecture you'd missed, but immediately perk up at the sound of her voice.

"yeah? what's up?"

"just come here!"

a resigned sigh escapes you, though you swing your feet around the couch anyways, padding over to whatever it is that jinx wants to show you. at the sight, though, your eyes immediately widen. it's some kind of... hot air balloon? one obviously handmade, but still intricate and impressive. paint cans lay beside it, alongside brushes and little puddles from her less-than-careful paint jobs.

"i... wow," you gasp, eyes scanning over every little detail. the teeth on top, reminiscent of isha's helmet, a mylo doll, bunny ears, the little graffiti details on the body, the wooden propeller. "you really didn't spare any details, did you?"

"i never do," she chuckles, resting her hands on her popped hips. "but i want your help."

your lips purse at this, and you let out a light huff. this isn't your area of expertise, not by a long shot.

"my help? with what?"

she quickly points to all four propellers, smirking as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"they're blank! we have to do something about that. can't have a boring hot air balloon, can i?"

you just sigh at the prospect, but kneel down beside the paint cans she's got laid out and pick up an already wet brush. the colors mix a bit, but that's in character for jinx. never pristine or perfect, just chaotic and unapologetic. there's no putting her in a box, she's just jinx. as are all of her creations.

"i suppose not," you hum, wiping excess paint on the edge of the can. "what do you want me to do?"

"whatever your heart desires," she chirps.

spontaneity has never come easily to you, not the way it does to jinx. but she's looking at you with a light in her eyes that you've missed, and she's asking for your help... you can't let the girl down. with a resigned sigh, you begin painting the bottom of one of the wooden blades. it's a mess of blue, meant to resemble the clouds that cover the greater right half of her body. do they actually look like them? debatable, but-

"are those my tattoos?!"

you have to stifle a giggle, but you quickly nod. "mhm. thought you'd appreciate that."

she skitters over to kneel beside you, and your upper arms brush together. it's only for a second, though enough to send a jolt of electricity through your body. you almost gasp, but you're able to catch yourself just in time-

"they look so good! that's perfect, you know? really makes it feel like it's ours."

ours. you like the sound of that.

you could get used to it, even.

without another word, though, she moves to the blade next to yours and starts painting her own design. continuing your own motions, you paint one swirl, then another, alternating between baby blue and azure for the outlines. the design spans the entirety of the wood with little bouts of negative space between, but it fits.

and you find our eyes drifting to what she's working on, her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. cute. it's a design of constellations, a seemingly random assortment, but..

"these are the constellations that'll be out tomorrow night," she murmurs, as if she's read your mind. "i looked. something for the occasion, yeah?"

"occasion, or battle?" you laugh, setting your own paintbrush down.

"does it matter?" she gently elbows your side, eliciting a bout of laughter. "potato, potahto... all the same thing."

within another few minutes, she finishes the design- it's beautiful. unorthodox, but gorgeous in that way that's so her. she then takes a step back beside you to examine your work, side-by-side, and although the designs are vastly different, they compliment each other well. kind of like the pair of you.

"you keep outdoing yourself, y'know? this is great."

"i.. thanks-" then in one fell swoop, you're pulled into a tight side-hug, jinx grinning ear-to-ear. that adorable tooth gap of hers on full display while she gazes at you with pure joy.

it catches you completely off guard, the same familiar flush returning to your cheeks and the tips of your ears, but you can't rationalize how long you've been wanting this.

slowly, carefully, your arms find their way around jinx's waist, careful not to squeeze too hard.

"we make a damn good team, dont'cha think?"

"yeah, we do."

✧.*

the battle is already underway.

the two of you have settled in jinx's hideout, the hot air balloon ready for use after much careful tweaking and maintenance. jinx has already thrown together something new to wear- a shark hood she'd stitched together, gauze around her chest (eerily similar to her sister's- sweet, but you won't mention it), tight pants with hip windows... she really does have a flair for the dramatics.

you wouldn't have jinx any other way.

even from the undercity, faint explosions and gunshots ringing can be heard. it's nothing out of the ordinary in zaun, but this is something much bigger than yourselves. it's almost time, but jinx approaches you with a slim paintbrush and a box of brightly colored paints, smiling ear-to-ear.

"what's all this for?"

she wrinkles her nose, and tilts her head. "painting? duh."

"yeah, i got that. painting what?"

then jinx's grin widens, if that's even possible, and she steps closer, closer, until your hips are almost in contact.

"each other!"

you're not sure you'd heard jinx right, but the way she immediately uncaps one of the paint bottles and dips the brush into bright purple, lifting it toward your bare bicep- she's absolutely serious. though you don't flinch, you don't turn away, you just... hold your breath, and let jinx paint you. her calloused fingertip brushes over a corner to clean it up, sending a shiver up your spine.

you look down, and it's a small iteration of her monkey bomb. cute.

"looks pretty good, if i say so," she hums, stepping back to cap the bottle. the girl then gestures with her head toward the box, her brows raised in that playful way she wears so well. "your turn, toots."

there's a moment of hesitation, though you find yourself stooping beside the box to look through the colors. brightly colored acrylic, each color just as appealing as the next.. but you'll take a sunshine yellow for now. slowly, you make your way back to jinx, dipping the paintbrush in.

"alright, stay still..." you mutter, using one hand to steady her, on her collarbone. she swallows, taking a sharp breath in, but nods. she'd just been so confident, but something is clearly disturbing that. you won't press, though, truth be told- you're nervous yourself.

she's right there. she's right in front of you, asking you to paint on her. trusting you to touch her, even if it's completely innocent. the fact she's willing to share the moment before something as monumental as a battle with you shouldn't mean this much to you, you don't think- but gods, it does. you don't know what you've done to earn the kindness of someone like jinx, someone who you care for so deeply.

"y-yeah, i'm still."

the other grips the paintbrush as you slowly paint a star on her upper arm, then pause- your gaze flits back up to her face, and it lingers. there's the faintest hint of a flush dusting her pale cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line. her chest is heaving the slightest bit- if you were any closer, you'd swear you could hear the rapid thump, thump, thump of her heartbeat.

and her eyes look into your own. it's as if time pauses in that moment- just you and jinx. the pink hue of her irises boring into yours, her slack lips pursing, her breath held all of a sudden. neither of you speak, neither of you move, only look.

then the girl surges forward, and her lips connect with yours.

your eyes widen in shock- is this actually happening? jinx, your closest friend, kissing you? though you don't have time to process, your arms wrap around the girl's bare waist as if instinct. her hands come to rest on your shoulders as your lips move together in tandem. uncoordinated, a bit clumsy, but somehow so right.

her hands squeeze at your shoulders a bit, then she hums into the kiss, pulling you that slightest bit closer. you can only manage to sigh as you lean into her embrace.

after another moment, she pulls back, pressing her forehead to yours.

"i've wanted to do that for a long time," she whispers.

'how long?' you want to ask, but that doesn't come out.

"i have too."

then she laughs, really, genuinely laughs, her shoulders shaking, and just shakes her head.

"come on, let's finish up so we can get out there."

#jinx x reader #jinx x you #jinx x female reader #arcane x reader #arcane x you #reader insert #sapphic #lesbian

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lenaswritingandstuff · 7 months ago

Text

Your Teddy ~ Theodore Nott x f!reader (PART 2)

Requested: No

Pairing: Theodore Nott x f!reader

Summary: Theo helps y/n get the pieces of her former life together.

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: Lots of talking, mentions of drinking, English is not my first language

A/N: The next part should be the last one. Let me know if you want to be tagged! Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it! GIF is not mine.

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

Tag list for this story: @cyriellee42 @littlepippilongstocking @lovetaylorrussellgrr @sequoiavink @cloudyyydayzzz @lovefushi @esmerai-artemis @atadoddinnit

PART ONE

Sitting on his dorm’s hard floor, his back against the door, Theo grabbed the bottle again and brought it to his mouth. He felt the burning liquid going down his throat, and while it actually did hurt, it was nothing compared to the pain he had been feeling since he learned a few hours ago that y/n didn’t remember anything - didn’t remember him.

“I, um...I’m sorry, but... who are you?”

She doesn’t remember. The thought was like a thousand knives in his heart. She didn’t remember all the dates they went on, how much they laughed and talked during them, all their time spent just the two of them, just enjoying being together, their first kiss and those that followed, the first time Theo told her he loved her, the first time she told him she loved him, all their cuddles and nights spent embracing each other or spent loving each other, all their hugs, all the time they comforted each other - how she comforted him after his mother passed away and, every year, on her death anniversary. How much they loved each other - how much she loved him. That was the worst part. He could tell y/n about the moments they spent together, where and how their first kiss was. He could also show her how much he loved her and why they dated in the first place, but what if she couldn’t fall in love with him again? What if she wanted nothing to do with him?

His stomach twisted at the thought, and he drank again. One part of him refused to think that y/n, having a big heart full of patience and understanding, wouldn’t at least give him a chance, but the other part of him, the one who always told him how she deserved better than him, told him otherwise. Theo had felt alone when his mother died, but the feeling had faded away when he and y/n started dating. It came back with y/n’s disappearance, and was worse than ever. No one had ever loved him besides his mother and y/n, and now he had lost both. Of course he had friends, and he deeply cared about them, but it wasn’t the same. They only knew the happy, sarcastic, careless Theo, not the true version of Theo who felt things deeply, was really insecure and kept wondering why his father didn’t seem to care about him at all. He felt tears suddenly running down his cheeks, but didn’t care.

All of a sudden, Theo heard a knock on the door. He closed his eyes - which he would have probably rolled if he had enough energy and less alcohol in his body - in annoyance and was about to pretend not to be here when he heard a familiar voice.

“Theo, open the door.”

Mattheo knocked again after speaking. Sighing, Theo grabbed the bottle and managed to get up, finding himself feeling incredibly dizzy when he opened the door. Mattheo came in, and Theo went to sit on his bed. Mattheo closed the door behind him, and raised an eyebrow.

“Merlin, it’s even worse than I thought.”

Theo, who now had a terrible headache, looked at him. “What?”

“Your ass is drunk. Like you had been for the past three months.”

“So what?” Theo snapped coldly.

He could find in him to tolerate his best friend coming to check up on him and comforting him, but not a lecture. They both had shitty fathers - and a crazy ass woman as a mother for Mattheo -, and had bonded over it, but Mattheo hadn’t always been single, and therefore couldn’t truly understand how Theo felt, as much as he tried.

“I suggest you quit drinking, get a shower, eat something and clean up this room, because a little bird named Pansy told me y/n is leaving the hospital wing tomorrow. Do you want her to see you like that?”

Theo ran a hand through his face, frowning. “What?”

“Mrs Pomfrey was able to heal all y/n’s injuries,” Mattheo said, and then his gaze softened. “Except for her memory loss.”

Theo looked at the ground, and Mattheo slowly came to sit beside him on the bed.

“I’m sorry, mate. I mean it.”

Theo couldn’t say anything as he left that if he did, he would cry, and there was a short moment of silence before Mattheo spoke again.

“You know, y/n only came back today. They still can find a remedy. Pansy said they’ll look in other books.”

“Did she find out why?” Theo asked in a hoarse voice.

“No. It might be from trauma, a potion or a spell. They’ll probably do other tests.”

“Did they come?” Theo asked. “Her parents, I mean?”

“Yes. They were…upset, of course. Pansy was here when they saw y/n. They asked her to come home for at least a few days, but she refused.”

The thought was y/n wasn’t alone while meeting people who were now basically strangers made him feel better, but it was at this moment that Theo realised how selfish he had been. He had lost his girlfriend, the girl he imagined spending the rest of his days with, but y/n had lost everything. Everything she had known and was used to - from family and friends to her childhood home and the school - were now foreign to her. And instead of being there for her, he was fucking drinking.

“She’ll need you,” Mattheo continued. “You were a big part of her life.”

“I want to help her,” Theo answered. “But…What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

Mattheo had a half-smile, “No chance, mate. She asked Pansy about you.”

Theo’s heart almost skipped a beat, and he turned to his friend. “Really?”

Mattheo nodded, “Yeah. I don’t know the details, but she did ask questions, and apparently she felt guilty when she saw you leaving. So, as I suggested earlier, we’re gonna clean up this room, and while you take a shower, I’ll go get us something to eat. Alright?”

Feeling a bit better - but still ashamed - Theo nodded, and Mattheo gently pushed his shoulder.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The next morning, Theo woke up with one of the worst hangovers he ever had. He had a terrible headache, and any light hurt his eyes, but he wasn’t as tired as he thought he would be, probably because he had a dreamless night which allowed him to get some rest. He took a shower, and, realising it was already 10 am, he quickly put his clothes on, arranged his hair, and went down to the Great Hall. He sat down next to Lorenzo, planning to eat quickly and then go see y/n in the hospital wing. He had to apologise to her for leaving as he did the day before, and planned on at least a real conversation.

As he ate, Theo felt his frustration grow. This isn’t what he had planned for her return. He had planned to get her flowers and many gifts, and to cuddle for days, trying to make up for the time lost. The cuddles were absolutely obviously out of the question now, and the gifts were maybe too much, but maybe flowers would still be a good idea? After all, maybe y/n would like to know that, unbeknown to her, she had a boyfriend who had missed her terribly while she was gone? He suddenly had the image of her in tears, alone in the dark, waiting for him to rescue her, losing all hope with each day passing. He shook his head, finished his plate quickly, and left the Great Hall, but he had barely taken a few steps when he saw two familiar silhouettes coming the opposite way. y/n and Pansy were laughing, and if you didn’t know y/n had lost her memory, you’d think she was still the same as she was before her kidnapping. y/n noticed Theo, and something in her behaviour shifted.

“Ah,” Pansy said, “Hello, Nott. y/n, dear, I’m sure you remember Theo, who you saw yesterday?”

y/n nodded. “Of course. Hi, Theo.”

“Hi, cara- y/n.”

E che cazzo, Theodore. Pull yourself together.

“I’m…glad to see you’re okay,” he managed to say.

He meant it, but the words had a hard time coming out of his mouth, as if this new uncomfortable distance between y/n and him made everything awkward - this was also new, because even before they started dating, they had always felt incredibly comfortable and safe with each other. y/n suddenly cleared her throat, which brought Theo back to reality.

“Hum, actually…I was wondering if we could talk?”

It took Theo a second to realise she was speaking to him. “Talk?”

“Yeah, I…I mean, you were a part of my life, and I want to put all the pieces together.”

Theo nodded. “Of course. Well, if you want, we can talk now?”

“Sure.”

She gave him a small, shy, adorable smile, one of those that had made him fall in love with her, but this time, instead of warming his heart, it almost broke him. Pansy excused herself and entered the Great Hall after gently squeezing y/n’s shoulder. Now that they were by themselves, the awkwardness was even worse, but all of a sudden, Theo realised he had looked at it the wrong way - sure they were now, in a way, strangers, but it didn’t have to be the end? Theo had been able to make her fall for him once, there was no way he couldn’t do it again, right? He’d just have to show her, show her exactly why she gave him a chance in the first place, and how much she meant to him. It would take time, of course, but y/n had been very patient throughout their relationship, and it was his turn now.

“Do you want to sit somewhere in particular?” he asked.

“I don’t know, was there…a particular spot we liked?” she said.

Theo immediately had an idea in mind. “Yes. Follow me.”

She followed him through the castle, and Theo noticed she looked around the castle like the first years did when they first arrived. Sometimes, her gaze would light up, and it was adorable to see.

“Did Pansy show you around?” he asked.

“Not yet,” y/n said. “I think she plans on showing it as we go.”

Theo nodded slightly, “Well, if you prefer, I could give you a tour. The castle may seem big at first, but we usually get used to it quickly.”

y/n looked at him and gave him a half-smile, “I’d like that.”

They both walked to a bench situated in a corner of the courtyard, a bit away from where the crowd of students usually went, so it allowed them some privacy. They sat side by side, and Theo felt both the need to put some distance between them and to eradicate any distance that existed. He had never been able to keep his hands off y/n, and always had a hand on her thigh or around her; always craving her touch.

“So, do…Do you have any questions?” Theo asked, making sure to keep his hands to himself.

“Well, a few, yes. But I guess I just want to get to know you.”

Theo turned to her and smirked, “Well, you already know my name. Though I have to say, my name is supposed to be Theodore but all my friends call me Theo. You, however, called me Teddy.”

She stared at him for a second, “Teddy.”

It felt so good to hear her call him that he almost forgot himself, almost hugging her right here and there, almost also forgetting that she probably would feel uncomfortable.

“I’m in Slytherin just like you, and we’re in the same class, with Pansy and my friends. What else… I’m also Italian, so I’m bilingual.”

“That’s cool,” she smiled. “Do I speak another language?”

“Well,” Theo hesitated, “you were learning Italian, and you were pretty good.”

“And…when did we start dating?”

Theo let out a slight sigh, “Our fifth year.”

“Oh. And you met my parents?”

“Yeah. They were nice.”

Nice enough to allow someone like me to date their only child.

“And have I ever met yours?”

Theo gulped and looked at his knees, “You never met my father. But I don’t see him very often, so…And my…mother died a few months before we started dating.”

y/n’s gaze from interest to surprise, sadness and compassion. “I’m so sorry, Teddy.”

“It’s okay. You helped a lot.”

“I’m glad I did.” She then shook her head and sighed. “I really wish I remembered, you know. If there was any way, I would do it.”

“I know.”

Because I’d do anything for you to remember, too.

“What’s the first thing you remember?” Theo said before realising it.

“Hum, it’s not very clear, but I do remember that large guy…Hagrid, isn’t it?” Theo nodded and she continued, “I remember him holding me and telling me I was gonna be alright. He brought me back to the castle and to Mrs Pomfrey. I slept a little, she examined me, and then this professor, Professor Snape, and this other man - I think they said he’s the Headmaster here? - came to talk to me and told me they had been looking for me for months. I don’t know why but for some reason, I remember being a witch, so they didn’t have to tell me. Then Professor Snape left to tell my parents and then…you arrived.”

Theo blinked, “So you don’t remember what happened during…”

“My abduction?” y/n completed. “No, not a single thing. But it’s better this way, I think,” she added.

Theo nodded slightly, and there was a moment of silence, with only the conversation and laughs of other students for noise. Theo was glad she didn’t remember anything - even though he would always remember the images of her being tortured that had been looping inside his head - but he didn’t like the fact that those who abducted her and held her somewhere would never be punished for what they did. He had no clue of how long he had been lost in thoughts, but at some point, he realised y/n was staring at him. He turned his face towards her, feeling his cheeks becoming hot, and suddenly felt nervous.

“Do I have a third eye on my forehead or something?” he said with a nervous laugh.

y/n’s eyes widened and her own cheeks became pink in embarrassment before she looked at the ground.

“I’m sorry, I…I guess I was trying to remember something. Anything.”

Theo had a silent sigh and put his hand on hers, which sent shivers down his spine.

"I'll do anything I can to help you remember, y/n. And if I can't, I'll help create beautiful new memories."

Theo thought y/n's eyes were suddenly shining, and she gave him a small, thankful smile before joiging their hands together.

PART THREE

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fastandcarlos · 11 months ago

Text

Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: you’re supposed to be used to oscar going anyway by now, but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts just as much

“As soon as I land, I promise I’ll give you a call, make sure that you don’t have too much fun without me.”

Your head nodded as you buried it into the crook of Oscar’s neck, refusing to let him see you, scared of what would happen.

He smiles down at you, kissing against the top of your head.

Like you, he’s trying his best to hold it together, reassuring himself that it’s only a couple of weeks and that the two of you have spent longer apart before. You could still text, still call, but it was never quite the same. Oscar knew you masked a lot, you tried not to be bothered when it was time for him to go, but deep down he knew every time stung just a little bit more than the last.

A final kiss was pressed to the side of your head as Oscar unwrapped his arms from around you, taking a hold of his suitcase as your eyes fell to the ground.

Your voice was almost silent as you said goodbye to Oscar, unable to bring yourself to watch as he closed the door of your apartment. On the other side, he sighs, knowing that the silence is how it needs to be in order for you to survive.

Straight away the silence in your apartment makes you tense up, struggling to picture yourself getting back to life with Oscar by your side. Once you were sure his car had had enough time to drive away, you finally let yourself fall. First one tear fell, quickly followed by another, and then another, until you were laid out on your sofa relentless wiping underneath your eyes. The scent of Oscar’s jumper that you wore only made things worse, he was almost there with you, to comfort you, but not quite.

Several shaky breaths came from you as you looked around the place, little reminders of Oscar placed around the rooms as he had all but moved himself into your place.

The kitchen was still full of his favourite snacks, the music playing in the background was still his playlist that he had been so excited to show you, many items of his clothing were hung on your radiators, unable to dry them in the blistery winter breeze.

Each sight makes you weaker and weaker, makes your heart ache more, silently crying out for Oscar to return to you and end your nightmare.

Every time Oscar went away it was the same old story, you tried to convince yourself that this time would be the time when you’d crack on, prove to yourself that you didn’t need Oscar to survive, but each time you failed. Maybe you’d last a day or two at most, but then you’d encounter a job or a sign of him that would send you spiralling back to the beginning again.

You found yourself alone again, on the other side of the world to the true place that you called home.

Oscar hated himself for being the reason you left behind everything, as much as you tried to convince him that you loved Monaco, he knew you wanted more. Times like these, when he left you all alone, more than anything you wanted the comfort of your family with you to scoop you up and keep you going.

Whenever the two of you spoke about it you reassured Oscar that he was worth it, that you were willing to make the sacrifice in order to make your dreams together succeed. But a small part of you had also hoped that it would all get easier, and it was anything but.

Admittedly, you were lost without Oscar, he’d been gone two minutes and already you found yourself a crumpled mess in your living room, wondering if you were going to survive.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Meanwhile, driving down to the airport, Oscar isn’t sitting pretty either. He’s restless, going through his list in his head once again, sensing that something isn’t quite the way it’s meant to be. Beside him Lando watches him closely, wondering what’s got into him as Oscar frantically searches through his rucksack to find what he’s looking for.

“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” he whispers to himself, searching through every single pocket. “I knew I should’ve put it in a safer place,” he continued to scold, getting more and more stressed.

Lando kept his eyes on him, “what on earth has gotten into you? Surely it can’t be that important, whatever it is.”

Oscar shot a glare across at Lando.

It was more important than anyone could ever imagine, and he refused to go any further until he had it in his hands.

“What are you going to do?” Lando asked after Oscar asked for the driver to stop the car and let him think for a moment.

Oscar glanced back across at his friend, shrugging his shoulders at the fact that they were already running late for their flight.

“I’ve got no choice, I need to go home again.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It had only been a few minutes, but already Oscar had missed you, already Oscar was excited to be reunited with you again. He sent his apologies to everyone before entering your apartment block, racing up the stairs.

He was bouncing on his heels, as if the two of you were going to see each other after weeks apart as he pulled out his key. He fumbled slightly as he placed the key into the lock, turning it sharply and bursting into the room.

Oscar shot into the room, glancing everywhere to catch a glimpse of you, only when he did, his heart sunk. The key dropped to the floor, expression shattering, words failing him. You were too wrapped up in yourself to even notice that Oscar had returned, your sobs being the only noise in the room.

Whilst silently, the guilt of it all ate away at Oscar.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you responded, smiling widely as Oscar told you about the fight that had happened during the McLaren team dinner that night, only wishing that you’d been there to see it.

“Luckily me and Lando managed to sneak out before we got caught in the crossfire,” he assured you, giggling away to himself. “It’s going to be so awkward at the team briefing tomorrow morning.”

As Oscar spoke, you were slightly thankful you weren’t there and a part of it.

It had been a couple of days since Oscar left, and after the scene that unfolded that he left, he promised to call you every free second of the day that he had, refusing to leave you alone with your own thoughts for too long.

“I bet things are a lot busier here than they are at home,” Oscar smirked, almost envious of the calm environment you found yourself in.

His eyes lit up, enough to bring a smile to your face too.

“Your mum has been ringing me nonstop, I don’t know what you’ve said to her.”

“Not a lot,” he chuckled, lying through his teeth, “I just mentioned things were a little bit tricky for you.”

“A little bit?” You challenged, raising your eyebrow at Oscar. “I think your mum thinks I’m on the verge of a breakdown, you know she’s forcing me to send her a photo every time I have something to eat.”

“Good,” Oscar responded, failing to see the problem with what you were saying. “No one’s there to check up on you love, at least if mum is keeping an eye on you then I know too that you’re taking good care of yourself.”

You gasped, hand over heart, offended that Oscar had taken his mum’s side rather than your own. He knew you were only messing as he mocked your reaction, stunned that you didn’t see how caring his mum was being.

“If it helps, would you like me to send you photos of my food too?” Oscar offered, continuing to tease you. “I know you love race day food.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, you didn’t just love race day food, it was your obsession. Secretly, it was the only reason you actually went and supported Oscar.

“I’ll block you,” you warned, “and then no one will be able to check up on me, I’ll just live in my own little bubble of peace and quiet in the apartment.”

Oscar’s head shook as he took a sip from the drink beside him, glancing on the clock at his bedside that was getting later and later. You knew that Oscar wasn’t brave enough to tell you what he was thinking, but you knew his expression well enough by now to know that he was starting to get sleepy and needed to rest for work tomorrow.

As he looked at the screen again, Oscar knew that you knew exactly what he was hinting at too.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head shook, refusing to listen to him. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve got work, it’s important that you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“I promise that I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Oscar insisted, shuffling around on the bed so that he was laid down, phone above his head. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can with how tomorrow goes.”

He did a good job of keeping you in the loop, tried his best to share as many updates as he possibly could with you. It wasn’t always easy, and at times Oscar had to be very sneaky, but it would be worth it to get your reply and know just how proud of him you were.

“You’ll sleep soon too, won’t you?” Oscar quizzed, doing the math in his head to know that it wasn’t far off getting late for you either.

“I will now that I’ve spoken to you,” you hummed, happy to let Oscar go for the night, and happy to know that you’d been sleeping much more comfortably too.

“I love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

“You don’t need luck Oscar…I love you.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He’s barely able to sit still as Oscar listens to yet another gate call, hoping this time it’s for him, but not quite. His frustration builds and builds, restlessly fidgeting whilst Lando sits beside him as if he’s got all the time in the world.

Knowing how close you were only hurt Oscar more now. He was desperate to be back where he belonged, back with his best friend and back in the place that he called home. He’d been away from the missing piece in his life for too long, and now he was ready to fix the jigsaw that was his life again.

The journey felt like an age, every slight stop tormented Oscar, knowing it was pushing the time of his arrival further and further back.

What hurt him the most though was the lies, the ignorance he had for you. When he landed and turned his phone back on he was met by dozens of calls and texts, most of them full of panic. He hated that he couldn’t tell you the truth, but his mum had assured him that she would try and keep you as calm as possible.

The car barely had time to stop when it pulled up outside your home, Oscar was out like a bullet, grabbing his belongings and racing up the stairs. Standing outside your door, he composed himself, taking a deep breath in and out before knocking on the door, hoping that you were home.

You weren’t expecting anyone, lazily moving across to the door. A sigh came from you as you took the latch off, pulling down on the handle and opening the door, slowly turning your eyes up.

Oscar’s smile was bright as your eyes met, a chuckle came from him, relieved to see you and see for himself that you were alright. It took you a moment to realise who was before you, but as soon as you did, you were stepping forwards, throwing yourself into Oscar’s arms and legs wrapping around his frame.

He barely had a moment to react, Oscar dropping his case and catching you just as quickly.

There were no words spoken for a while as you both let the reality set in. Your head was buried closely into the crook of Oscar’s neck, this time trying to compose yourself for a different reason. Your tears were no longer of sadness, but of overwhelming joy to have Oscar home.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you laughed, pulling back and meeting Oscar’s eyes once again. “Y-you’re here early,” you commented, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose.

Oscar nodded proudly, “we were finished and I couldn’t wait any longer, I just wanted to get back and be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so hard being away from you this time.”

The grip that you had on Oscar was bone-crushing, filled with happiness knowing that you weren’t going to be by yourself anymore. It didn’t matter anymore where you were in the world anymore, just the fact that Oscar was back with you again was enough to make everything alright.

“How come you changed your mind? How did you convince Zac to let you come home?” You quizzed, feeling Oscar carry you across and down onto the sofa.

“I had my ways,” Oscar proudly joked, “I’m kidding, we had everything sorted so I could fly earlier. Told him that I couldn’t wait to get home any longer to my missing piece and he sent me on my way.”

You’re missing piece?”

Oscar nodded in reply to you, “of course, the one thing that was missing to make me my happiest. I had work, I was in my race car, but you weren’t there, so everything wasn’t quite fulfilled.”

“That’s cute,” you whispered.

And Oscar meant every word of it too, it was no understatement how important you were to him, and knowing that you’d been having such a tricky time of things recently only left him feeling worse whenever he had to go away.

“Please tell me you don’t have to leave now, or any time soon,” you whispered to Oscar, terrified that your moment was going to be cut short and he was going to be pulled off into another direction to complete yet another task.

“I’m all yours, I promise, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time my love.”

“Good,” you smirked, cupping either side of Oscar’s face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You’d experienced the hurt, the longing, the bitterness and jealousy, but at last you were able to experience the happiness again, the relief that Oscar was back with you and he was right there to be able to take care of you.

And luckily for you, it was a job that he absolutely adored too.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 reaction #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri drabble #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #formula 1 fic #formula one #f1 fic

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sexy-monster-fucker · 30 days ago

Text

But Who Could Love Me, I Am Out of my Mind

Dr. Gregory House x Doctor!Reader

Story Synopsis: Reader is a Doctor alongside House. They have known each other for years, mostly been dancing around being intimate with one another. Even though it is painfully obvious to their close friend, Wilson. After finally allowing their guards to fall, the Reader receives a letter inviting her for her dream position at her dream hospital. She has to make the hard choice of staying or going. angst/smut/nsfw/new relationships/minor fluff/typical hospital talk/situationship/

Part 3/Summary: After a long day dealing with House’s nonsense, Reader wants a night to relax at home. Until an unexpected guest comes knocking at her door.

CW: nipple play, fingering, multiple orgasms, handjob, p in v, creampie, new relationship, accidental confession, mentions of cucking,

[Part 1] | [Part 2] <- -> [Part 4] | [Part 5/Finale]

a/n: I’m just so in love with Greg House

title track 🎶🩶

~~~

After what felt like the longest day of your life, you really needed some alone time. Having to put up with House’s petty antics all day, not even considering the normal stress of the hospital, you were defeated.

Running yourself a nice, hot bath. Washing away the worries of the day along with your body. Steam filling the small space. More relaxing than you had anticipated. Putting on your most comfortable loungewear. Preparing for a night of silence other than whatever you ended up watching on TV. Pushing down everything that wanted so badly to erupt out of you. Tonight was no night to wallow.

So you lit your favorite candle. Turned off the overhead light. Clicking on each lamp you had strategically placed around the room. And curled up on your couch with a book. Finding yourself lost in the pages. Enjoying having a distraction.

The knock on the door startled you. Blowing your breath out as you tip-toed over to look through the peephole. Not expecting whose eyes you met.

“House?”

A closed mouth smile adorned his face. A hint of irritation on his lips. Hair slicked down with gel, a bold departure from his usually wild locks. Musky cologne overwhelmed your senses as soon as the door had opened. Overcoat with a band t-shirt and jeans. What you knew as his ‘out of office’ attire. Looking down to see him grasping a tote bag in his hand. Your favorite flowers peaking out the top, a paper bag underneath.

“Are you aware your elevator is out of order?” his shoulders bounced with each word as he tried to catch his breath. Brows knitted tightly together, hinting at the pain he was feeling. Eyes glancing back down to see his other hand shaking as it white-knuckled his cane.

“Come sit down,” you moved out of the way. Closing and locking the door behind him. Watching as he plopped onto the center of your couch, bag sitting in the floor beside him. Groaning as he finally got to relax his legs. Neck craning against the back of your couch as he stretched. Lump jumping in his throat as he swallowed hard.

You studied him. Trying to figure out why he showed up here. At your home on a random weeknight. After being nothing but a complete ass to you all day. Berating and belittling you. Inconveniencing you any way possible.

Wanting to hate him. Wanting to scream and make him take the stairs back down. To get out of your apartment. To leave you alone.

But you could not.

House had made himself at home in your heart. Tethering himself into your very being. Laced through your existence in a way you could never rid of. Regardless of how he cared for you. He was yours.

“These are for you,” House extended the bouquet out to you. Refusing to meet your silent stare. Accepting them with a soft ‘thank you.’ Knowing he had remembered the time you mentioned they were your favorite when a patient received them in their room. Cheeks heating up at the simple fact he remembered at all. Smelling the buds and smiling.

Beginning to question him, but getting cut off. “I brought takeout from that Chinese place you like. Got the number twelve like you always get,” his hands rustled through the paper bag. Sitting the little containers on the coffee table in front of him. Delicious aroma meeting your nose causing your stomach to growl. Realizing that you had forgotten to cook dinner. Too busy trying to relax.

Being hit with a sudden wave of anger. Remembering everything that happened today. Brows pushing tightly together as you stood across from him. Arms folded tightly over your chest.

“House, you can’t just—“

“And. I’m sorry,” his wide blue eyes finally met yours. Being stunned into silence by the words coming from him. One thing about Greg House: he never apologized. Ego too inflated to ever allow that. Always thinking he was right about everything, so what would he need to apologize for?

So you found it hard to believe that he meant it.

Convincing yourself there was an ulterior motive. There was no world in which Dr. House cared enough about you to sacrifice his self-importance. Your throat tightened as you held eye contact with him. Nostrils flaring as you battled to keep any emotion pushed down.

House sighed as his hand slapped against his leg, “I was acting petty. You did not deserve any of what I did to you today.” Corner of his mouth curving as his lips pierced together.

“Are you dying?” You deadpanned.

“What?”

“It’s just impossible that the Doctor Gregory House would ever say that to me,” you scoffed, “Let alone remember my favorite flowers. Something has to be wrong with you.”

Denying yourself hope. The possibility of him caring for you could not slip its way back into you. Easier to believe there was something else afoot.

House’s head fell defeated. A chuckle rumbling in his chest as he looked at you, “Do you seriously think I’m that shallow?”

“I know you are,” you snipped with a look of confusion. Coming off harsher than you had intended.

“Okay, I deserve that,” House mumbled under his breath. The smile tugging at his lips making you sick.

“Oh— I see what’s going on here. You made a bet with Wilson, didn’t you?”

“No—“

“Bet that if you showed up here all put together and-and with those sad eyes, you’d be able to get in bed with me. Right? Bringing some present and dinner, acting like you even feel remorse,” tears welled up behind your eyes. Mouth forming a frown as you tried to blink away the feeling. Talking with your hands, as you did when you were stressed. Voice cracking with each word that left your lips.

Maybe relaxation was not what you needed. Confrontation put a much fuller feeling inside you.

Losing the war against the tears. Burning as they stained your cheeks. Hating yourself for allowing him to get you this way. For allowing yourself to be this vulnerable with someone. You were better than this. Worth more than he had made you feel all day. You grasped the sides of your head, hiding your face the best you could. Trying your hardest to not sound so pitiful with your sobs.

His hands on your shoulders caused you to look up at him. Fingers digging into the flesh. Heartbreaking at how sad your eyes looked. You arched your brows trying to appear more intimidating than you were. Refusing to let him feel pity on you.

“Y/N, I—“

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You’re right. Everybody lies,” you huskily chuckled. Echoing his mantra to him. His eyes fell shut, frustrated as he exhaled hard.

His hand came up and cupped your cheek, thumb circling into the skin. Collecting the dew that had fallen from your eyes moments prior. Nostrils flaring as he flexed his jaw.

“This is one thing I would never lie to you about,” House’s brows sat flatly across his eyes. Teeth gritted together as his grip on you tightened. Trying his hardest to get his point across. Begging you to understand.

You scanned his eyes. Desperate for one hint of dishonesty. Begging for all of it to be a lie. Because it was almost easier to convince yourself he was lying than it was to believe him. Wilson’s reminder that House only chased a high to distract him ringing in your ears. Possibility of you being his next addiction causing your stomach to sink.

Yet, you found yourself knowing he was telling the truth. Never having seen his eyes so expressive and genuine as they were in this moment. Even a remnant of worry on his brow. Delusion of a future with him washing over your body. Wanting to try this with him. Wanting him to get better. Wanting to be able to commit to something without fleeing at the first sign of seriousness. Because he was what you wanted.

“You came all this way just to apologize?”

“Yes,” he breathed out with upturned eyebrows. Swallowing his fear of rejection.

“Really?”

“My God, woman. YES,” he over exaggerated his voice trying to get his point across to you, “All of this is for you. Because I… Wilson calls it ‘caring’. What I feel for you. And you’re making sure I don’t forget it. You know how hard it is for me to admit that I’m wrong? I’m not doing it again.”

Silently staring at each other for a moment. Before House’s mouth curved into a smirk. A small chuckle escaping through his nose as it slowly morphed into a genuine smile. Returning the affectionate gaze he had for you. Shaking your head in disbelief for a moment before you both erupted into a fit of understood laughter.

Cheeks glowing as your laughs subsided.

“Now, come sit down and eat with me,” House gestured back to the couch. Walking back over and taking his previous seat. Removing his jacket off his shoulders. Opening all the containers and plasticware. Blue eyes looking up at you, wondering why you had not joined him yet.

Slowly, you walked over. Quick to straddle his lap instead. House’s hands instinctively placed themselves on your hips as he looked up at you. A hint of confusion on his brow. Smiling softly, eyes dipping to look at your hardened nipples through your shirt. “Gonna be a little difficult to eat with you on top of me like this,” House questioned your action with a joke.

Your hands guided his eyes back up to yours. Lips meeting his. A certain hunger overtaking you. Sloppily kissing him, sliding your tongue into his mouth. Groaning when his hand pinched at your breast. Pulling away for just a moment, hooking your hands under the loose fit t-shirt.

“I didn’t come here just to fuck you,” House breathed, eyes hooded as they looked up at you.

“You want me to stop?” you cocked a brow.

“Absolutely not,” hands meeting yours and guiding your shirt off your head. Throwing it off in the floor behind you. His lips attaching onto one of your nipples as the other palmed your breast. Massaging the meat in his hand while his tongue flicked and stimulated the other nipple.

One hand roaming down to rim around your waistband of your sleep shorts. Slowly venturing down and slipping his hand up the bottom. Feeling the lining of your panties as he pulled them away from your core. Fingers slipping against your folds. A loud moan erupted from you at the sensation, hands digging into his gelled down hair. Disrupting the perfectly laid locks. Whining his name as surgical digits circled your clit.

“Never expected you to be so noisy,” House smirked against your skin. Your hips bucked against his touch, chasing more stimulation. Not having been touched in so long. Wanting to come undone around him. Begging him to make you cum.

You curled into him, head resting against his throat. Moaning right below his ear as your hands gripped his shoulders. House’s hand splayed along your spine as he finally delved his fingers into your throbbing entrance. Curling them and hitting that spot perfectly inside you.

“I can’t wait to see how you act with my dick inside you,” House pressed his lips against your ear. Airy words soaking right into your core. Causing you to squeeze his fingers. Riding against his hand as he perfectly massaged your insides. His cock stiffening between his legs as he watched you. Thumb starting to circle your throbbing nub.

"Greg..." you whined into him, breasts pressing into his chest as your lips kissed his jugular. Canines teasing his skin with a soft bite. Pulling a soft grunt from him, vibrating against your lips. Gently replicating the small, purple marks he had left on your chest the night prior. House's hand led your head back to his, lips interlocking. Tongues fighting for dominance as you both tasted one another. Moaning into his mouth when he applied more pressure to your core. The knot deep in your belly barely holding itself together.

House’s eyes looked into yours with admiration. Completely entranced by your flushed expression and kiss swollen lips. Pupils enlarged with his need for you. “Are you gonna cum?”

“Y- Mmhmp,” you tried to speak, the noise meekly bubbling in your throat.

“Good, good,” House trailed off, tongue coming out and wetting his bottom lip, “Give it to me, Y/N.” Curling his fingers against the soft spot barely inside your entrance. Methodically leading you to your orgasm. Nails digging into his shoulders as your mouth shaped into an ‘O’ with a loud moan. Legs shaking and breath catching in your throat. Walls fluttering around his digits as they continued their rhythm. Shit-eating grin written across House’s face as he watched your body writhe above his. Allowing you to ride out the waves of bliss on his hand.

Slowly, he removed thick fingers from you. Grinning at the mess you had created. Juices connecting between his fingers. Sliding them between his lips, cleaning them off. Pressing his lips back to yours, taste strong on him.

Your shoulders heaved as you attempted to catch your breath. Trying to find composure as your walls continued to occasionally grip around nothing. Sweat glistened along your spine, the air from your ceiling fan feeling suddenly cold.

“Pretty girl,” House cooed, his thumb tracing circles in your exposed thigh. This side of him a foreign concept. Not one for compliments or sweet gestures. Assuming he would be quick to slip his dick into you. Surprised that he wanted to get you off first. Icy eyes peered up at you through his brow. Mouth morphing into a grin at your flushed body. Loving that he had you a squirming mess simply from his fingers. Chuckling softly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you hid your face in your hands. Growing severely embarrassed with his eyes on you. Feeling overexposed suddenly.

Rough hands pulled your wrists away from your face. Trying your hardest to keep your eyes away from him. Tucking your chin against your shoulder.

“Look at me,” House loosened his tight grip on your wrists. Despite your best efforts, you gave in. Fluttering your lashes at him. Lip puckered.

House’s hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you to his lips. Tongue glazing over your teeth. His other hand guided yours down to the bulge in his pants. Encouraging you to stroke him through his jeans. Heart skipping at the feeling of his stiff member. Focusing both his hands on the zipper, tugging it down and fetching his throbbing cock out. Curving towards his stomach, thick and swollen. Pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Still want me to check if your blue balls are serious?” you teased between kisses, hand framing the base of his member. Not yet touching his length.

“Fuck… shut up,” House breathed heavily, hint of a laugh behind it. Sounding far more desperate than he had been moments prior. Clearly wanting your hands on him.

“Yes, sir. Doctor House,” you pressed your lips firmly against his. Grasping at his shirt and pulling it over his head. Revealing his torso, lightly covered in hair. Expanding as he tried to fill his lungs. Finally wrapping your hand around his cock. Stroking him agonizingly slow. Taking your time to get familiar with the veins decorating it. Squeezing the tip, watching more pre-cum surface. House breathlessly moaned, eyes squinting shut and head falling back.

Beginning to speed your hand up, twisting your wrist with each stroke. His hips bucked up into your hand, wincing at the slight pain he felt from the sudden muscle spasm. You kissed at his jawline, scruff tickling your lips. His mouth hung open, brows knitting tightly together.

One of his hands tugged at the band of your shorts. Voice husky and gruff, “Take these off. I want to be inside you.”

Butterflies flapped around your stomach. Appreciating his straight-forwardness. House was a man who knew what he wanted, and would be damned if he did not get it. You rose off his lap, standing before him. Removing your bottoms as slowly as possible. Giving him a bit of a show before you were fully nude before him. Disregarding the garments somewhere. House stroked himself absentmindedly as he analyzed your every movement. Making sure to memorize the valleys and hills of your body. Lost in the way your breasts bounced on your chest when you stood up fully.

Praising your body as you took your place back over his lap. Hovering over the place he needed you most. Hand lining himself up with your entrance. Allowing you to dip only the head in first, adjusting to his girth. Face contorting at the feeling. Whimpering as you fully sunk down on him. Stilling for a moment as you gasped. Feeling so full with him inside you. His head bumping somewhere deep inside you that made your walls tighten. Large hands grasped under your ass, digits digging into the soft flesh. Awestruck by you above him, soft innards perfectly encapsulating his length.

Hands guided you up and down his length. Slowly riding him in a way that allowed him to watch every detail of his cock disappearing inside you. Smiling widely when it came back out covered in your juices. Welcoming him back as if he belonged there. Fingertips digging into his shoulders as you sped up. Bouncing on his lap with your head thrown back. Curses fell softly from him over and over.

House pushed himself forward, capturing one of your nipples between hungry lips. Audibly sucking the bulb, moaning into your flesh. Possibly an attempt to drown out his own sounds with your skin. Well aware he was close to blowing his load.

Methodical fingers ventured down your figure, curling against your clit. Circling it and causing your rhythm to falter for a moment. Shaky breaths falling from you in short gasps, “Greg—“

“I want you to cum around my cock. Can you do that?”

You viciously nodded. Still overly sensitive from your previous orgasm. Grinding down on his hand as you took him. His other hand helped you raise higher off his member. Sweat beaded along his brow as his lips hung parted. Brows knitted in enjoyment.

Repetitive ‘yes’s escaped his lips as he felt your walls tighten more and more. Knowing when you stiffened your posture it was over for you. Quaking through your nervous system as you came harder than you ever had. Pussy gripping his thick cock over and over, pushing him over his own edge. Hips rutting as he came in spurts. Humping up into you making sure he shot as deeply as possible. Decorating your insides with white hot.

Hair falling in front of your eyes as you leaned into him. Huffing and panting. Lungs begging to capture air. You softly kissed his throat as you continued moaning lowly into him. Overworked and high on pleasure. His loud pulse pounded against your ears, barely louder than your own.

His cock remained inside you. Twitching and leaking every last drop out of him. His eyes rested shut as he heaved. Hands tenderly petting your body above his. Lips gingerly kissing against the side of your head. Your name a soft groan from his throat.

Neither of you able to look at the other quite yet. Basking in the feeling of post coital glow. Hands desperately clinging to each other. Still learning all the dips and turns around the other. Skin sticking together with sweat, not willing to rip away from him. Loving the skin to skin contact. Chests pressed perfectly together, synchronizing heartbeats.

Beginning to drift away in your comfort from him. Engulfed by his body heat. Warming your now cold body. Like crawling into your own bed after a long day, finding the love of your life already there. Keeping it comfortable for you, always awaiting your return.

“Y/N,” his husky voice brought you back, blinking as you sat up. Meeting his arctic eyes. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Capturing your lips in a kiss once more. Addicted to the way they felt against his. His hand cupping your cheek, running loosely along your hair. Thumb circling your cheek.

“Look, I love you—“ he paused, stunned by how casually he said it, “—your body against mine, but I haven’t ate since this morning,” House chided, uncomfortable with the soft nature of your new found relationship. Embarrassed by the slip up he made. Pretending neither of you heard what he said. As if the room had not shifted in on itself.

You kissed the tip of his nose, standing up before him and grabbing all the discarded clothes. Throwing his t-shirt back at him. Dressing yourself and turning to see him spread out watching.

“You’re such a pervert.”

“Says the woman who just rode my dick,” House’s brows bounced with his words.

Your face flushed again with his words. Scoffing as you sat down beside him. Smiling as you lazily looked over at him. Leaning forward and grabbing one of the cardboard boxes of food. Tasting as good as you imagined Heaven would, probably because of how hungry you were. House snipped at one of the pieces of chicken from your box with his chopstick. Laughing as you pulled away from him.

“Didn’t your mom raise you better than that?”

“Have you met me?”

House smirked as he reached for your arm, pulling the box towards himself and snatching a piece. Softly pushing his shoulder at your loss.

This was how the night continued. Until you were laying your head in his lap watching some hospital comedy show. Not really paying attention to the plot. Laughing at the strange cutaway gags they would pull when the main character daydreamed.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” your voice was hushed, softer than ever before.

“Of course I do,” House’s hand glided down your side, “Hopefully I’ll wake up with my dick in your mouth.” He snickered knowing your eyes were rolling at the remark.

“I thought that was Wilson’s thing,” you joked.

“True. I’ll have to call him and break the news,” House’s hand laced through your own, pulling it to his lips and kissing it.

“Ooo. He’s gonna be mad,” you teased with a firm grip on his hand. Half joking, the reality of the lecture you would receive from your friend dawning on you.

“Maybe because we didn’t invite him,” he smiled, “Have to give him a heads up next time. Even set him up a chair to watch.” You swatted his hand as it pinched your ass. Eliciting a wince from him as he shook off the sting of your smack.

“You’re gonna cuck your best friend?” you rolled over to be looking up at him. Meeting his devious smirk as his thumb and pointer finger pinched your chin.

“We might ask him to join,” House widened his eyes with his words. You reached up and pushed his gaze away from you, giggling, “Ew, Greg! Fuck Wilson on your own time.”

House chuckled. A genuine smile overtaking his expression. Hooded eyes gently looking into yours. Cheeks softly pink when his mouth would beam.

Oh God.

You were both in deep.

~~~

[END//Part 3]

// Thank you so much for reading! I have two more parts of this story planned. I am really enjoying exploring the ins and outs of this kind of situationship. Where they’re both so obviously in love they can’t see straight, BUT TOO STUBBORN TO ADMIT IT! Anywho— I know House M.D. is an older fandom but I just love him and the show. If you want to be tagged in any future Fics, let me know! Comments and Reblogs are appreciated! //

{tags}

@houseslollipop ~ @megangovier ~ @iwmflbb ~ @yourgirlcarol ~ @needz1nk ~ @crimin4llyins4ne ~ @bitchy-bi-trash ~ @chaimshelii ~ @cailleachcola ~

#house md #dr house #dr gregory house #dr house x reader #gregory house #gregory house x reader #house md x reader #hugh laurie #hugh laurie x reader #sexymonsterfics #writing #part 3

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