#I will direct my attention to private libraries

[dark-moonlust]

Unmasking Desire

Commission October 2024 for anon!! This has so much sass, enemies-to-lovers vibes and smut!

Pairing: male Fae (Eli Thorn) x fem Vampire (Mara Sinclair)

Summary: a female vampire named Mara and a male fae named Eli are professors at the same university. They have been rivals since they met but they’ve been assigned to work on something together by the head of their department. Despite their attempts to get out of it, they agree to meet up to get the project done. Emotions are unleashed, their desire unmasked.

Warnings: 18+, oral (fem+male) foreplay, p in v sex, overstimulation, in public but magic keeps it private and no one finds them, many orgasms (fem), size kink, dirty talk, big fae🍆, lots of 💦.

Copyright @ 2024 by Kate Hart This commission is owned by Kate Hart. As the original writer, I strictly forbid any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent. This is a commissioned short story and will be posted on the author’s sites for others to enjoy.

Late evening found Mara sitting in the back corner of the library, her legs crossed, drumming her dark-red nails against the leather arm of the velvet sofa. It was a quiet Saturday, no one was around. The library was open for her convenience. Moonlight filtered through the tall, narrow windows, sending faint shadows across the room. Silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face but her lips were twisted, a frown on her features.

She didn’t like waiting—especially when it was for him.

Professor Eli Thorn.

He was the last damn male in existence she would have chosen to cooperate with.

The project.

It was the worst duty she'd ever been given. Runes and magical artifacts from the Lost Ages. The words of the chief department still rang out in her mind. He had handed in this assignment at them with a single directive: "You two are some of our best minds and I'll expect you to work together, whatever your personal differences. Your research will provide remarkable intel for our university.”

Of all the damn people she had to cooperate with him.

Of course, Mara had tried to wriggle her way out of the assignment no matter how great. But the head of their department had been firm. Mara was busy enough already and working with Professor Thorn was going to be a pain in the butt. He grated on her nerves. He was a silver-tongued devil who thrived in finding ways to pry into her carefully guarded life, somehow invading every hour of her day with his maddening charisma.

Mara had watched him glide through lectures with ease, the students and fellow professors eating out of his hand, captivated by his calm, dark voice. Yet for some strange reason, Professor Eli Thorn decided to focus all of that energy on her. No matter what assignment she chose, no matter how tough her research, he always managed to find a way into her orbit, arranging things so he could poke her logic.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention. Her gaze sharpened as the door finally opened, the subject of her thoughts entering with that cocky, unconcerned strut that made her bite her lips and shift uncomfortably in her seat. Damn it… there it went again, that unnecessary attraction she felt every time she saw the irritating fae.

Tall and well-built, he strolled in the room, looking damn fine in a dark, brown vest over a crisp, white shirt, its sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, lean forearms tattooed with runes—signs of the ancient fae magic he possessed. His hands were also inked and full of veins, his fingers long and deft. He wore a single accessory: a silver ring set with a black opal, a powerful heirloom from his ancestors.

His face was sharply defined, clean shaven and as if crafted by an artist with an aristocratic jawline, slightly pointy ears, high cheekbones, a smirking mouth and chocolate dark skin. Eyes the color of deep green settled on her with a knowing glance. His lashes were long, his hair as black as midnight, falling to just below his jaw. Mara had noticed— completely randomly— that he often brushed it back when lost in thought or just in casual charm.

Why had that unimportant detail entered her mind again?

Clearing her throat, she returned his gaze boldly. “You are late, Professor Thorn.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he sat down irritatingly beside her on the sofa. “Missed me, Mara?”

“You keep calling me by my name when I’ve never given you leave to do so.”

“I know that deep down you just love it.”

Her jaw tightened. “I prefer it when people keep the professional boundaries.”

He didn’t reply and gazed at her silently, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe, taking in her cold, almost regal stance. He lingered just a touch too long over her figure, noticed the way she tightened her thighs and he cursed himself for it. She was a creature of precision and discipline, yet at the same time, a living temptation, a dangerous mystery.

Yes, Eli thought silently, the vampiress was a vision, sitting there in a demure dark red dress that hid most of her smooth porcelain-pale skin. Yet, somehow, it managed to make her appear even more luscious, driving him mad with longing. She was tall, with generous curves and magnificent silver hair that fell in thick curls down her shoulders, reaching past her waist. Her hair was truly captivating, framing her face like a halo, emphasizing her striking blood-red eyes and lips— full bow-shaped lips, hiding her fanged teeth.

Eli had never met anyone like her. She was all prim, razor-edged disapproval and looked at him as if he were beneath her as if she'd rather drive a stake through his heart than spend another moment with him. But she also tugged at something deeper inside him, something darker within. There was a fire beneath that graceful pride of hers and he could sense it shimmering, scent her desire.

And the more he sensed that heat, the more he wanted to expose it—to shatter her walls, lay her bare, breathless and powerless, beneath, above him, in every position possible, every part of her entangled with him.

Bloody hell… he doubted he could complete the assignment after all. His defenses were crumbling. His patience snapping.

Eli swallowed back his innate craving and forced himself to focus.

"So," he said, breaking the tense silence between them. "How do you propose we divide the work, then?”

“I suggest we work separately and discuss only when necessary. I prefer my partners silent and obedient.”

Eli lounged back in his seat, his legs outstretching, arms nonchalantly folded across his chest. "Silent and obedient? Oh, Mara…" he drawled, allowing her name to slide off his lips. "It’s such a shame. I was never any good at obeying."

“Which, frankly, makes me question why I'm stuck with you.”

“Oh, poor you. But go ahead, sweetheart. Try pretending you don't want me here.”

“Enough with the useless talk. This project takes dedication and competence, I don’t want it to take forever, can we begin please?”

He grinned and stretched out with a leisurely look, obviously taking his time. "You know, judging by the fire in your eyes, it as if you wish you could make me disappear into thin air."

Eli saw her smile. Her lips curved, just a little, cute fangs peeking —and damn it, she was lovely.

“Was that a smile?” He leaned forward, his scent taunting her senses. “Pretty. Do it again.”

“Do you really think you're going to get to me with this nonsense?” she murmured, turning open her notebook in an attempt to avoid him.

He laughed. “How you wound me.”

She slammed her notebook shut and sighed. "If only.”

Another low husky laugh while he brushed his hair back and Mara couldn’t help but follow that motion. Warmth pooled in her belly and she flung herself up, quickly widening the gap between them. She hated him and his commanding, alluring energy that prickled her flesh.

No, she thought. Professor Eli Thorn was distracting and irritating. Nothing more.

Mara approached the tall bookcases but before she could grab a book, he was there, his chest pressing against her. Her notebook dropped to the floor and she clutched the bookshelf as she felt every line of his muscular chest against her back, his orangy musky scent surrounding her. He tantalized her senses, made her body tinkle in heat, liquid warmth trickling from her pussy. And yet she didn’t pull away.

“What are you— we are supposed to be looking over texts—ancient runes—”

“Hmmm,” he interrupted huskily. “It’s a project that will take a lot of work and cooperation.”

“Your games, Professor Thorne are pointless.”

“Tell me, Mara—do I get under your skin as much as you get under mine?” he drawled, his warm breath tricking her ear. He was at the end of his tether. Fuck patience. Fuck everything.

“I repeat, your games are pointless.”

“Liar.”

In a swift motion, he turned her over, his hard chest squeezing against her breasts and pressing her back against the shelves. Strong arms encircled her as she gasped and placed her palms into his chest, splaying her fingers wide to feel his muscles contract. Damn, he felt so good, so hard and unyielding, his scent wrapping around her.

“Yes, you are a liar,” he repeated, his voice husky, “you keep biting your lips, rubbing your thighs together.” He leaned down, his smirking lips inches from her own. “I can scent you, my naughty little vampiress. Your pussy must be soaked. Must be feeling so sore and needy down there, hm?”

“Is it amusing, Professor Thorne?” Mara’s voice was smooth but there was tension in her crimson eyes. “Treating me like this?”

“Amusing? Oh, absolutely.” His hands reached out, fingers burying in her silky hair. “I mean, how often do I get to see the perfect Mara Sinclair looking like she’s about to snap?“

"Release me. You're insufferable."

Mara struggled but didn’t use the full force of her strength. She could have him off of her in a few lethal movements, but she didn’t want to. She liked him exactly where he was. And he obviously liked it, too. He didn’t budge and chuckled low and deeply which both frustrated and left her breathless.

"And you enjoy every second of it, don't you? Go ahead, confess it. You pretend to hate me but you want me,” he drawled, pressing the head of his erection against her belly. “Gods, you drive me mad. I’ve wanted you ever since I looked at you.”

“If you think I’ll be drawn by your juvenile attempts at flirting, think again.“

“Oh, but you’re calling this flirting. And you know what? I believe there is a part of you that appreciates how I make you feel something other than perfect, something real."

Mara opened her mouth to reply only to have her breath shallowed by his mouth. His lips brushed against hers, tasted her before coaxing the seam apart and plunging inside. He growled at her taste, pinning her hands on either side of her head, his body pressing down on hers, his cock hard and pulsing. Nearly melting against him, Mara gave him her mouth, freely, opening at his invasion, their breaths and moans mingling. 

Eli broke apart the kiss for a second, marveling at her kiss-swollen lips. “All you have to do is let go for once.”

“So that you can break me?" Mara replied, half-dazed by the kiss.

His grin grew nasty, his green eyes flaring with something predatory. "Never. I’ll let you break me apart, sweetheart, do whatever you want with me.”

And then he was kissing her again, this time devouring her lips and letting his tongue taste her mouth. Mara felt her knees go weak and tried to pry her hands free. After a few tugs, he set her free and she hungrily roamed her hands over his body, touching his broad back, feeling up the muscles of his chest and shoulders. 

“Damn, Mara,” he groaned and gave a sharp thrust against her clothed belly. “It fucking hurts— hurts to be so hard for you.”

“Eli…” she whispered as she let her barriers fall, the carefully formed shields she had created collapsing under his touch.

“Finally, you called me by my name.”

His gaze met hers and she felt herself falling into the passionate green of his eyes, the desire simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to swallow them both. The line between desire and restraint snapped— it no longer mattered.

She was done hiding her emotions for him.

Done playing.

This one’s a bit longer than usual, so if you’re up for the full read, it’s available for free over on Patreοn. It’s open to everyone—come by and enjoy!

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

i will support public libraries when the ALA terminates their stupid Bill of Rights

[luminecent-sky]

Divinely ordained

A/n: yes this is for my birthday, i mean it's also sagau sooo

I did not finish neuvi's part, feel free to request more

Diluc

Did… did he just hear you right? He's your favorite?

His heart soars, he feels warm and giddy, like a hearth giving warmth to a home, it's almost too much, to hear the words again falling from your lips, reaffirming your earlier statement, before he jolted, wilting like a flower deprived of sunlight. Hadn't you once abhorred him? Ignored him for some petty reason after he had caught that glimmering golden star in his hand.

To gaze upon your flustered visage as you admit how petty and immature it had been to be angry at him for such a trivial thing… he thinks it was all worth it. Every bit of suffering and pain, the scars that marr his form, all for your gaze, your attention.

Keep looking at him like that, with that flustered gaze and those apologetic words,

Keep looking at him.

He puts a hand to block his face, hoping that the blush on his cheeks isn't that obvious —it clearly isn't working, his whole face is almost as red as his hair— that he isn't looking like a fool in front of his deity.

Both of you are just staring, tension building as the silence goes on for longer than either of you would like,

You break first, a nervous chuckle bubbling from your throat as you approach, holding his face gently, repeating yourself.

"I- i guess i can stop hating you for that… you are my favorite after all."

Ayaka

She may just die here, held in your embrace as the sun bears down on you both.

A light blush creeps its way onto her pale skin, obscured by her fan while she tries to wade through the thoughts flooding her mind.

She always knew of your favor towards her, evident in the blessings and artifacts she was bestowed with. All she is, and will ever become is for her deity. And this blatant admittance is something she will treasure forever, like the first and last falling petals of the sakura trees.

So please, if it isn't much of a bother… Please keep telling her that, keep speaking in that lovely voice, those utterly captivating words that even the Archons would beg and grovel for.

If only time could stop at this very moment.

Keep talking, keep those words of praise flowing from your divine mouth, and allow her to bask in it.

It's all she needs, all she's ever craved. What else was there in life to achieve now that she holds your favour?

You move to repeat your words, letting them wash over her like the cool stream water.

Her worries seem so far away now, all her duties pushed to the side for something that has now become a routine.

The people of inazuma can wait just this once, she has given her all to her duty, her family and the nation.

Rest has never been more alluring than now.

“...i think we can rest for just a little longer, no?”

Alhaitham

He must be dreaming, he muses, relishing in the way your breath fans his face.

After all, how else could he justify your sleepy murmurs, the serene declaration of the obvious favouritism he had witnessed directed only at him.

His day had been too good to be true, he thinks.

Kaveh had not woken him up with the usual clamour, in fact, the blonde was asleep, not in a hangover way, but honest to god asleep.

His work was also light, even if he barely did much anyways. It seemed like the universe itself decided to smile upon him and give him this.

And then he was summoned, aparently you had decided that perusing through the house of daena and looking through old tomes and various stories was the retinue for the day.

He never imagined that you would be quite interested in the old books, but as the scribe and only available person that day — never mind the fact that you had asked for him, he would never know — he supposed that his work was light enough that he could help you.

But here the both of you were, in a private room, with bookes piled up to your noses and your sweet whispers gracing his ears.

The library's curfew could be broken, just for once, just for you, he hummed,

After all who would question the creator on why they were here so late anyway?

Hours would pass and he would just sit there, admiring your face.

“I- uhh i didn't say anything embarrassing while i slept right?”

[lilac-witch]

Opalescence - Azriel x Reader

masterlist

Summary: A visit to the esteemed day court sets the Mother's plans for a certain shadowsinger in motion. Meaning: "a unique gem that can pick up all colours of the spectrum depending on the light" Word Count: +1k Warnings: None

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

The Day Court was the polar opposite of the Courts of Night. Sunshine illuminated every corner of the vast land. The golden palaces gleamed in the light, appearing like masses of molten metal.

"Welcome, my friends!"

The booming voice of the High Lord of Day broke Azriel's trance, his eyes squinting to look past the glowing light that inevitably followed Helion wherever he went.

"Thank you for the invitation, Helion. We are extremely grateful to be offered a few days of sanctuary and relaxation," his High Lord replied, his tone as cool as the breeze that wove through Velaris.

"Ah well, I would be lying if I didn't say my intentions were slightly selfish," Helion replied, winking in the direction of himself and Mor.

Before Azriel had the chance to roll his eyes, a gentle yet firm voice echoed through the space.

"Come now, Uncle. No one wants to be subjected to your atrocious flirting."

A figure emerged from behind Helion's colossal bronze body.

A female, with skin as pale as quartz, brown hair that glowed gold in the sun, and eyes that reflected the molten gold of the Day Court palaces.

"Ah, nieceling, you wound me."

The inner circle's eyes widened in shock. No one had been aware that Helion's long-dead sister, Mother protect her soul, had conceived a child.

The female's attention shifted from her uncle to the inner circle, before finally resting on the hazel of Azriel's eyes.

"It's wonderful to finally make your acquaintance. My uncle has told me all about you, some things I wish he had rather kept to himself," she said, shooting a look at the grinning High Lord.

"Forgive us, my lady, but we happen to know nothing about you."

The female turned to Rhys, a soft smile on her effortlessly beautiful face.

"There is nothing to forgive. My uncle likes to keep me private, although his attempts are becoming more and more futile. My name is Y/n," she said, once again shooting a look at Helion, who had now grown seemingly bashful.

Her attention returned to Azriel, and his skin felt an immeasurable warmth, as though he had been bathed in pure sunshine.

Their eyes remained locked throughout the rest of the introductions, until only he remained unknown.

"And your name, lord of shadows?"

Her voice was like music to his ears, his shadows twirling about in excitement at being acknowledged.

"Azriel, my lady. But I am no lord."

Y/n nodded, her lips turning upwards slightly, before turning to follow her uncle through the maze of halls.

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

Three days later, Azriel once again found himself in Y/n's company.

He had been wandering through the palace before he stumbled upon one of the hundreds of libraries that called Day Court home. Now, Azriel busied himself with filtering through the shelves of leather-bound novels, looking for something to occupy his time.

"That is one of my favourites."

Azriel almost dropped the book he was holding. His shadows hadn't alerted him of another's presence, and he hadn't heard any footsteps echoing on the wooden floor.

He turned, coming face to face with the golden-eyed female who had been haunting his thoughts, thoughts that had previously been occupied by Elain Archeron.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, lips tilting to the side in an attempt not to laugh at the situation.

"Did I scare you, Shadowsinger?"

Azriel found himself at a loss for words as he gazed upon her. She wore a black jumpsuit, a common colour between the Day and Night Courts, accompanied by golden jewellery that was the same shade as her eyes.

Azriel cleared his throat, a light blush forming on his cheeks.

"I, uhm, didn't hear you coming, my lady."

She waved him off. "Please, call me Y/n. I hate formalities."

Azriel nodded, his hands still grasping the book tightly.

Y/n glanced down at the book, and then looked back into his eyes.

"Can you still feel the heat of the flames?"

Azriel's mouth fell open in shock.

"I apologize if that was too forward. It's just that your hands appeared to have been burned..." she said, her face warming slightly.

"Yes," Azriel breathed. "Sometimes, it feels like I'm reliving that night..."

Azriel watched as she attempted to take a step towards him before hesitating. Azriel willed the flinch he felt to not appear physically through his body.

A moment later, Y/n stepped forward, her hands outstretched.

"May I?"

It was Azriel's turn to hesitate. His hands were his biggest insecurity, his greatest disappointment. They were a horror to gaze upon, a horror to feel, and a horror to remember. So many awful things had occurred to his hands, and his hands in turn had done so many awful things.

"Azriel?"

He snapped out of the daze, gazing into those pools of molten gold. Swallowing hard, Azriel shakily placed his hands into Y/n's awaiting palms.

Moments passed with the pair standing with intertwined hands, gazes locked on one another. But then Y/n's hand began to glow with a soft, golden light.

Azriel's expression morphed to one of shock as he watched the scene unfold, as he felt a cooling sensation flow through the scarred flesh.

"I could heal them if you want, but I think the scars provide proof of great strength and resilience," she said as soft as the first winter's snow.

Azriel returned his attention to Y/n's face. It was then that he felt it. That magnificent warmth and pull of fate. A mating bond that glowed gold, like the female before him. The female at the other end of the bond.

Azriel dropped to his knees as tears of joy clouded his eyes.

"Mate..." he said with disbelief. Disbelief at the blessing the Mother had presented him with after so much torment.

He watched as Y/n kneeled before him, taking his face gently in her hands, her thumbs brushing the stray tears away.

"Yes," she said, smile as bright as the sun. "If you'll have me."

The mating bond thrummed with a multitude of colours, resembling the whirlwind of emotions felt between its two participants.

Azriel had been alone in the dark for so long But now, there was someone to guide him back into the light.

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

HI lovelies! When I tell you I've had this ingrained in my head for weeks, and I've been dying to write it out! I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting so long, but I promise to do my best to get content out. Gossamer will be released sometime tomorrow, so you'll have two new reads for the weekend! I hope you're all doing well... until next time ;)

p.s. Don't forget my inbox is open to any and all requests!

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Maybe something angsty with an insecure fem!reader who gets jealous over girls flirting with ethan— or it could be the other way around with a jealous Ethan. Whichever you prefer! The angst then leads to smut, maybe somewhat possessive sex with some dirty talk? Thank you!

I hope you like it! :)

Bite Me - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: A girl flirting with Ethan leads to an explosive interaction, but he's going to show you why you're the only one he wants.

A/N: This was so much fun to write. I love a good angsty moment. Maybe because I, myself am angsty as fuck.

You were out on a date with Ethan at your favorite restaurant. You’re celebrating your 1 year anniversary, and it’s been the best year. You’ve experienced so much with him and can’t wait to see where it goes.

As you sat at the table, deep in conversation about one of your classes, a girl walked up to your table.

“Hey, Ethan!” she slurred, you noticed that she’s obviously been drinking.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, as she leaned her elbows on the table.

“I heard you’re the best for tutoring, so I was hoping we could have some private sessions,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Uh, if you want me to tutor you, we could meet in the library,” he suggested, as you felt anger build up inside you.

“That’s perfect, I’ll message you on Instagram to see when works for you,” she said, as she looked over her shoulder at you.

“Oh, are you his girlfriend?” she asked, her breath smelling heavily of vodka.

“Yep, sure am,” you said through gritted teeth.

“That’s too bad,” she said, before directing her attention to your boyfriend. “Bye Ethan.”

When she walked away, his smile faded when he saw the look on your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused.

“What’s wrong? You just said you were going to tutor some girl that obviously wants to fuck you,” you said. At this point, you were seething. “I think I’m ready to go.”

You stood up from the table and walked out before Ethan was able to say anything. You were able to cool down for a minute as you waited for him to pay. When he walked out, he had a napkin in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked curiously.

“Oh, the girl that wants me to tutor her gave me her number,” he said, as you both got in the car.

“Why the fuck didn’t you throw it away?” you asked, the anger building back up.

“I will, I wasn’t trying to be rude,” he said, as he focused on driving.

“You weren’t trying to be rude to her after she was disrespectful to our relationship. Nice,” you snapped.

“I tutor several people, babe, you know that. And she was drunk, she probably wasn’t trying to come off like that,” he said, and this is the one time that his innocence was really pissing you off.

“You are so oblivious. Do the other girls that you tutor act like that?” you asked, ready to get out of the car.

“No, babe, I don’t…wait, what are you saying? You think I’m cheating on you or something?” he asked, and you started to tear up.

“I’m not saying that. I just think it’s fucked up that you want to spend alone time with anyone that acts like that,” you said, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“The library isn’t a place to be alone. What about that don’t you understand?” he asked, anger evident in his voice.

“What you need to understand is that when we get back to your apartment, I’m getting in my car and going home. Fuck this whole anniversary thing,” you said lowly.

The rest of the ride back to Ethan’s was silent, no music, no talking, nothing. Once he pulled into the parking spot, you got out of the car and walked over to yours.

“Fuck, I need my phone charger that’s here. Mines broken,” you said, speaking for the first time in twenty minutes.

“Okay,” was all he could say as you followed him inside.

Once he unlocked the door, you saw rose petals all over the floor. Your heart started to melt a little.

“Ethan, did you do this for me?” you asked, looking around at the candles.

“Yeah, Chad came over and lit the candles when I told him we were leaving the restaurant. Kinda dumb now, huh?” he asked, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter.

“Why is it dumb?” you asked, looking over his stone-cold expression.

“Were you in the same car as me? Do you remember saying ‘Fuck this anniversary’?” he snapped.

“Ethan, do you not understand why I was hurt at that restaurant?” you asked, a crack in your voice as you tried to hold back your tears.

“Yeah, you have issues with another girl talking to me,” he said.

“I was upset that you didn’t tell her no when she had other intentions. I’m upset that any girl thinks she’s going to fuck you aside from me,” you said, as he walked towards you.

He didn’t say anything as he grabbed your hand and took you to his room. The room was dimly lit with candles on the floor. It made you so sad that the night was ruined, because this was the most romantic and sweet thing anyone had ever done for you.

As he stood in front of you, you saw a little anger in his dark eyes, but you also saw a lot of love.

“Do you think I’d want to be with anyone that isn’t you?” he asked, the tension still thick in the air.

“No,” you whispered.

He stepped forward, holding your face in his hands as he kissed you, hard. He reached around and grabbed your ass, making you moan into the kiss.

“I’m going to show you why you have nothing to worry about,” he said, pushing you onto his bed.

He hovered over you, kissing you with the same intensity as before. His hand squeezed your hip as he started to kiss down your neck. You felt his teeth graze your skin, whimpers slipping past your lips. He pulled away from you long enough to slip your shirt over your head. He noticed that you had his favorite bra on, and smirked to himself as he kissed a line down the center of your chest and stomach. He slid your leggings off, noticing that the panties you were wearing matched the bra. He almost didn’t want to take them off you.

“You were looking forward to me fucking you tonight, huh?” he asked, massaging the flesh of your thighs. You moaned in response, the feeling of his hands on you making your core throb.

“I asked you a question, baby,” he said, his eyes boring into your needy ones.

“Yes,” you said, as he slid your panties down your legs.

He ran his fingers over the newly exposed area, alternating between rubbing your clit and dipping a finger inside of you.

“You think I’d really want to fuck someone else when you have a pussy this perfect?” he asked, his words making you whine.

He continued to tease you, watching your face with a smirk.

“Please baby, I need you,” you said.

“You want me to eat your pussy, baby?” he asked, and you nodded.

He leaned forward, lapping at your dripping core. You moaned out as your legs spread further apart, him kneading your flesh while his eyes connected with yours.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he said as he pulled away to take a breath.

He wrapped his mouth around your clit, gently sucking on the bundle of nerves.

“Oh my god,” you cried out, his tongue rolling against you as he sucked.

He slipped two fingers inside of you, moving them against that special spot inside of you at a fast pace.

“Fuck, your gonna make me cum, baby.” He watched your face as you started to hit your peak, only breaking the eye contact when your body started to jolt. He kept up his pace, before slowing down once your walls stopped fluttering around his fingers.

Once you came down from your high, you slid off the bed, crouching on your knees in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper, your eyes never leaving his.

“I’m going to show you exactly why you shouldn’t be studying with girls like the one from tonight,” you said, mocking his comment from earlier.

You pulled his hard cock out of his boxers, placing gentle licks to his tip. You licked a stripe underneath his erection, from base to tip, before sucking him in your mouth. He gasped as he reached his hand down, tangling it in your hair. He started to thrust his hips forward a little, making you gag around him. He kept going, until he was as far in your mouth as you could take him. He looked down at you to see the tears streaming down your face.

“You’re doing such a good job, baby,” he said, the grip on your hair getting tighter. “Your mouth is amazing.”

It didn’t take long before the combination of the both of your actions had him approaching his orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum. Where do you want it?” he asked, but you just kept sucking.  He released in your mouth as you swallowed. “God, you’re perfect.”

“You got another one for me, baby?” you asked, standing up and placing kisses along his neck. You reached down to stroke his sensitive cock that was already starting to get hard again.

“You keep talking like that, you’ll struggle to walk when I’m done with you,” he said lowly.

“You promise?”

He pushed you back on the bed for the second time of the night, grabbing your hips and pulling you to the edge. He placed your legs on his shoulders as he gently pushed into you.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned out at the feeling of him stretching you out.

He started to move his hips, like he was trying to release a little bit of the frustration from your conversation earlier in the night. He pounded into you, staring down to watch his cock go in and out of your pussy.

“I’m yours, baby. Always yours,” he said, circling his fingers against your clit.

He leaned forward with your legs still on his shoulders, making it easy for him to hit that special spot inside of you with every thrust. Your legs started to shake and your vision went blurry as you orgasm quickly crept up.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked rubbing your clit faster.

You couldn’t form words as you babbled, completely cock-drunk.

When you tightened around him, he whimpered.

He pulled out and released his cum, shooting it on your thighs and your stomach.

“Fuck, that was a close one,” he joked, almost not pulling out in time. You waited for him to catch his breath, before he grabbed a towel to wipe his cum off you.

You tried to stand up to grab your panties, but your legs started to wobble, feeling like Jell-O. You fell back on the bed, as he laughed a little.

“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to walk,” he said, tossing your panties at you.

[invisibleicewands]

Bringing revolution to Port Talbot - by Michael Sheen

On a recent February morning, I woke up to find I was wrong. Not a particularly uncommon experience in itself, but unusual to discover that on this occasion I was being publicly accused of it by the Secretary of State for Business and Trade. “Michael Sheen has said that ‘the people of Port Talbot have been let down’,” Kemi Badenoch wrote in the Daily Mail. “But he is wrong.”

It was a big day. I spent all of last year directing a three-part drama series for the BBC called The Way, which was to air that night. It begins in my hometown of Port Talbot, where a strike at the local steelworks becomes the spark that ignites a violent descent into national chaos. Clearly, Ms Badenoch had been given a sneak peek of the series before forming quite a strong opinion on it. But no: reading her article, Ms Badenoch admits that she hadn’t watched it at all. Why let a total lack of information prevent a full-throated denouncement, eh? Presumably, she also assumes that we managed to write, film and edit the entire series after Tata Steel announced the imminent loss of some 2,500 jobs at the steelworks mere weeks ago.

While the winds of change have only been blowing in one direction for many years, the events in our story were dreamed up some years ago and act as a fictional catalyst for all that follows. Surely even Tory ministers understand there is no VIP fast lane for making a TV series. This isn’t a PPE contract, after all…

Nothing to see here

After that episode aired, it occurred to me that such shenanigans in the right-wing press could have been about a couple of things. Since the ITV drama about the Post Office scandal, Mr Bates vs The Post Office, caused public outrage, I imagine the government has a new fear of the impact a TV show can have. A pre-emptive strike against a series it perceives to be criticising its actions around the steel industry must have seemed a useful tactic. And, having seen Breathtaking – based on Rachel Clarke’s memoir of how the Covid crisis unfolded in the NHS, which aired on ITV the same night as The Way – I wonder if her piece was an attempt to distract attention away from more dangerous territory.

It gave Ms Badenoch a chance to trot out her line about how the people of Port Talbot should be grateful for all that the government is doing to save the steel industry, not moaning about the impact job losses will have on their community. But the people of Port Talbot have been let down, no matter what Ms Badenoch wants us to think. Not by any single entity, but by years of neglect. That she immediately assumed my comments referred to her and her government tells its own story. In the words of a much older drama than mine: the lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Then and Nye

“This crisis is a privateering racket with your friends lining their pockets!” No, not an accusation against Boris Johnson, but something I currently say to Winston Churchill every night. We opened a new play called Nye at the National Theatre this week. I play Aneurin (“Nye”) Bevan, who attacks the prime minister for turning a wartime crisis into a money-making scheme for him and his cronies. It’s one of many moments in the play that seem to speak to past and present at the same time.

The entanglement of “now” and “then” is heightened by the fact that I am wearing pyjamas. Nye is lying unconscious in his hospital bed at the end of his life, and we follow him through a dream of his past. He wanders from childhood memories of overcoming his stutter in Tredegar library to his meteoric rise through local politics, to becoming the youngest member of Clement Attlee’s pioneering postwar cabinet. And, of course, as minister for health, his tumultuous birthing of the NHS on 5 July 1948. It’s an extraordinary, surprising and moving experience telling this story on stage each night. That shared space between actors and audience, where all is felt but unseen, crackles with electricity.

Once more, with feeling

It seems that exploring the motives of politicians, the uses and abuses of political power, and the quest for justice that saw the creation of the NHS taps into deep wells of emotion. Like the pockets of gas that miners feared within the coal seam, their release brings risk and reward. At a recent show, we had three instances of people needing to be helped out of the theatre, the final one forcing us to pause the show moments from its end. Thankfully, it was nothing more serious than someone fainting. But emotions are running high.

I’m more than happy to invite Ms Badenoch to a performance. But I realise, of course, there’s no guarantee she would make it to the end.

[kitorin]

LOVE ALL PLAY. - ITOSHI RIN

THREE - TWO IDIOTS, A GENIUS, AND THEIR COMPANION.

contents. no warnings, smau

"I already want to go home." Rin mutters under his breath, thigh bouncing under the table as he stares at the first problem.

The combination of letters and numbers are quite grotesque, and the instructions are asking for far too much (how is he supposed to figure about what it was? It's unknown for a reason). Rin scrunches his nose in disgust at the sight, so does Isagi, who runs his hand through his hair while staring at his notebook. Shidou on the other hand was perfectly unbothered (as expected) as he displays discourtesy in the library's private room, resting his feet and legs onto the table (Rin thanks himself for sitting away from him).

"I need help." At least Isagi was willing to reveal his confusion, Rin reminds himself to listen in carefully to the explanation. It's not that math is too hard, but that he hasn't seen anything like this before.

"Save it 'til the end. I'm working on somethin' for a bit." He doesn't look away from his phone, and from the way he picked his nose and watched with half lidded eyes, he obviously wasn't concentrating on anything. "Wait for the others."

"Who? I thought it was just us." Rin diverts his attention away from the question, the mere sight of mathematics was enough to make him nauseous.

"'Was'." Shidou still doesn't look up from the screen. "Isagi over here found people willing to help your dumbass." Rin opens his mouth to defend himself, but Shidou continues before he could do so. "They should be here anytime soon, oh, they just texted. Finding us right now."

The senior's lack of attention and care only frustrated Rin further, he's not quite sure if he hates the word problems or Shidou more.

"Who did you invite?" He wants to trust Isagi enough to find someone reliable, but that was difficult after Yukimiya grouped him with Shidou.

Isagi remains silent, as he rushes over to the door to open it when he hears a knock. "Hiori! Thank you for your time today." He greets him enthusiastically, bowing at an almost 90 degree angle, mannerisms flustering the taller boy.

"There's no need to be so formal—We're happy to help and it'll be good revision for us, especially since it's earlier than we usually study." He ushers Isagi to stand up straight, reminding him that formalities were unnecessary since they were the same age. "You must be Shidou?"

Finally, Shidou puts his phone away. "Yeah, thanks for helpin' us out with this idiot."

Rin interjects. "There's two of us."

"No, there's one of you, and there's Yoi. Yoi's cute. You are not." Shidou doesn't even spare a glance in Rin's direction. "Your brother on the other hand—that man is adorable."

Rin scowls. "Don't even call him that."

"Fine, he's my cutie patootie."

"The fuck does that mean?"

Shidou crosses his arms in attempt to mock Rin. "He's my pookie bear."

"Worst one by far."

As Rin finds himself more disgusted by Shidou's peculiar infatuation with his older brother, Isagi and Hiori didn't pay much attention to their conversation.

"y/n's here." Hiori points at somewhere out the door, down the corridor and Isagi peers outside to check. "They were at the bathroom."

"And why is that fucker here?" Rin regrets speaking, his harsh tone making Hiori flinch. He had no problem with Hiori, but he can't help how the thought of you makes his skin itch with agitation.

Panicking, Isagi inserts himself in the space between Rin and Hiori. "I invited them—They're both really smart and willing to help."

"Rin Rin!" To which, Rin groans. "I had no idea you could read a book, let alone study."

He scowls. "Very funny. As if you haven't heard me answer our teacher."

You shrug, actions and words dripped with sarcasm. "I dunno, if you really were capable you wouldn't be here relyin' on us."

Rin remains silent at that.

"I already like them." Their senior cackles. "Shidou Ryusei, by the way." Hiori briefly introduces himself, and so does he.

Isagi leans over to whisper into Rin's ear. "Feel free to complain and object, if you're willing to pay for a tutor, or okay with not competing." Rin's reply is non existent, and the silence already feels awkward.

"Anyways, though I can't and won't guarantee any results I'll do my best." You announce as Hiori nods along. "Let's all do our best, yeah?"

Isagi grins, full of energy and determination, returning to his worksheet. While Rin was quite the opposite. You and Hiori unpack, laying out everything you'd need for the study session.

Only for you to turn on your phone

Hiori pokes your cheek. "y/n. Do I need to remind you that now's not play games? We're here to study, remember?"

The oldest in the room interferes. "Who cares, one round. I play too." He mimics your action. "I'll make the room."

"See? Shidou-senpai gets me. Surely one round. All together. I can actually play properly since my hands aren't soaked with sweat."

Hiori winces at the unnecessary detail.

Rin interrupts. "You're just going to play games while we study?"

"Oh I'm sorry, when was the last time you got passed a test. Primary? Kindergarten? Pre-school?"

With a scoff, he retaliates. "And when was the last time you grew? Infancy?"

To the best of your ability, you conceal your offense. "I'll have you know I grew an inch in the past year."

"And I'll have you know that I ace English every year." At least foreign languages had practical use for everyone. He doesn't need to fully comprehend and analyse Shonagon Sei's The Pillow Book or be proficient in mathematics to dominate as an athlete. Arguably, fluency in another language was most important.

"Only English?" You critique him in another language; what he'd assume to be Mandarin. "Only two languages?"

Great, now you have another thing to make fun of him for. Maybe he'll finally start learning French.

Hiori hits your shoulder and you yelp (he also snatches your phone while he's at it). "You can't be talking—you only know a few sentences of Mandarin and didn't get any of the tones right just then." Rin holds back a groan for falling for your antics, while resisting a smile from Hiori calling it out.

"I would've sold it if you didn't point that out."

"You're a scammer, not a salesman. Quit being immature and stop trying to compete with the poor guy." Hiori mutters out an apology on your behalf, as he drags you by the hem of your shirt to where Isagi was scratching his head over a problem. "I'm separating you two."

Rin likes Hiori, quite a bit.

Shidou nudges Isagi. "I like this y/n." Well I don't, Rin thinks to himself. "Here's the plan. We'll teach the subjects we're best at. I think you 'nd Hiori are fine with everything though. Straight As, right?" Rin doesn't care about grades, but knowing that you're maintaining a results as an athlete and proficient in academics has his skin prickling with envy.

"Yeah." You reply nonchalantly, peering at the problem Isagi was stuck on. "Not that confident with science though."

Hiori nods. "As long as it's not math, but y/n can cover for that anyways. I started learning English from a young age so I guess that's my best topic."

Shidou claps his hands together. "Perfect."

"You're actually so fucking stupid."

"I'm sorry I haven't been studying for every day of my life." Rin spat, clenching the mechanical pencil in his hand hard enough to the point he started trembling. "You're here to teach me not to act like a fucking dumbass.

"It's long division." You yell. "It's literally the same as regular long division but with 'x' involved."

"Well I can't do the one with polynomials if I can't do regular long division." It completely slipped his mind once he discovered that high school tests often permitted the use of a calculator.

The poor table suffers an indignant slam from you. "How? I've done this stuff since I could hold a pencil."

"Not everyone's the same as you." Rin wonders, what sort of childhood you had to already comprehend such concepts at a young age (not that he cares, it's simply curiosity). "You don't even need to know how to do long division, you have a calculator."

"Well some shit you just don't forget.'

"You're clearly wrong in that case."

"No you're just stupid."

Amidst the chaos within the tiny room, Rin can barely catch the gentle encouragement from Hiori to Isagi. Why can't you be like that, or at least, why can't Hiori help him instead? Shidou fucked off somewhere a while ago, Rin's relieved that he doesn't have to spend time with him; but that means more time with you.

He leans back into his chair, tossing the pencil onto the table. "Why can't you be like that?" He aggressively points in Hiori's direction. "Mature and intelligent."

Though hesitant, Hiori denies his compliments. "y/n's a lot smarter than me... especially in mathematics."

"Smarter or not, doesn't matter. I hate them."

Now you're slumping onto the table, nuzzling your face into your own bicep. "Love you too, sweetheart."

"Do not call me that—"

You cut him off by slamming your palm on the table. "Food. I want food. A break is well deserved, don't you think?"

Something tells him that it was directed to him, but Rin still responds. "I'm the one who needs a break. All you did was yell and it produced no results."

Your faux pout makes a return, as you make your way to Isagi, hands resting on his shoulders. "Think of everyone else dumbass. We've been locked in a room for hours—"

"You're free to walk out whenever, in fact, please do so. Now."

"You people need my genius—"

"The booking." Hiori interrupts. "The booking is finishing soon. So we're leaving soon either way." Relief makes Isagi pack everything up, stuffing it hastily in his shoulder bag. "And you willingly came here to study, stop hyperbolising everything."

"Hi-o-rin, we're getting food." Ignoring his scolding, you cling onto his arm, carrying the both of your bags while you're at it. "There's a nice place nearby, let's all go together." You sling your arm around Isagi's shoulder, pulling him in. “Surely we go get zaru soba too.”

Isagi falls for your charm—or what Rin would much rather call irritation. “That’d be nice. Where would you recommend, then?”

“y/n and I usually go to this place nearby. It’s a bit of a walk but it’d be worth it. They have other foods too if you’re more of a rice person.” Hiori had positioned himself between you and Rin, after weaving out of your embrace. “We can get ice cream from FamilyMart if we overheat.” He holds the door open for everyone, to which Rin bows politely in gratitude.

“I can’t.” Rin declines, partially because he prefers the quiet atmosphere of his home to eat; the rest of his reasoning is merely your presence.

What part of “I can’t” did you not understand.

Now he’s seated at a table in a crowded and noisy restaurant, thanks to you dragging him along (he's also confused at how you managed to pull that off). He’d be thankful that he wasn’t seated next to you, but that meant being forced to face you for the entirety of his meal.

There’s you in front of him (by Hiori’s side, of course), pondering a stupid decision while Hiori actually bothers to hear you out.

“Grape Calpis… or regular Calpis.”

“Can you even tell the difference between them?” Hiori’s fingers massage his temples. “Hurry up and give Rin the menu.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. You’re not my mum.”

Isagi interjects. “Which one did you pick?”

You hand the menu to Rin. “Milk tea.”

And with that Isagi returns to glancing over the menu.

“Ochazuke for me. Cold.”

“I’ll get the katsudon.” Isagi asks.

You stand up with a gentle slam of the table (what is it with you and that tendency?). “I’ll go order then. Hiorin, same as usual?” Your being to weave through people after Hiori nods.

“What’s wrong? Thinkin’ about somethin’?”

Isagi chokes on nothing. “No, I mean yes but it’s about y/n—”

Maintaining eye contact, Hiori takes a sip of his water. It doesn’t come off as intimidating, rather curious instead. “Have they been annoying you too?”

“Of course not—that’s just Rin being Rin.” Arms folded against his chest, Rin glares from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t say anything. “I hear a lot of people calling y/n a genius. Why is that?"

“Oh. That. Our club gave them that nickname because one, they're really good at school, and two, they were disgustingly good without knowing anything about fundamentals. And it didn't take long for them to learn it either, they were really awkward when first playing too." Hiori gazes off in the distance, grappling for the right words. "They're just naturally good at a lot of things too."

In other words, you’re one of those freakish beginners with a freakish start and freakish development.

Smart and athletic, you truly embody perfection, if character was ignored. Perhaps you made a deal with god, your sanity and maturity in exchange for skills others spend years refining.

“Good at school and sports. Must be nice.” Isagi sighs. “I still don't understand logarithms...what's your secret?”

Hiori shrugs. “Study. You get it after doing it a lot. Just ask y/n.”

A groan comes from the shorter boy. “Forget it, genius’ don’t have secrets. I’ll practice.”

Rin scoffs. “And how long are you going to stand there, dumbass?”

Hiori whips around to see you grinning. “Go on go on, keep praising me please.” You take your seat again. “Don’t worry Yoichi, just send me anything you need help with.”

Isagi nods, hesistant but determined.

“You’re going to be fine. If I can do it so can you.” You open your bottle of royal milk tea after distributing the other drinks.

“Thanks but we’re not the same…”

You yawn, eyes watering slightly. “I too have failed tests before. They’re recoverable.”

Rin’s heard stuff like this before. “Like what? A 99 instead of an 100?”

“30 instead of a pass.” Hiori covers his mouth to stifle a laugh, even going as far as turning away (it only made Rin feel more embarassed). “I knew I was screwed so I wrote an apology on my test paper. And that is why, you people should trust me when I say you’re going to do great. Eat well. Sleep well. Practice consistently.”

Check, check, almost check. It can’t be too different from learning English.

Hiori slaps you on the back, loudly. “Quit yapping when we both know you already only do the first.”

“And you’re no better—” The volume of your speech is quickly turned down by the waitstaff’s presense. “Thank you for the food.” Effortlessly you switch from your annoying self to a polite customer.

“Rin, Yoichi, don’t think about exams too hard. We don’t even know the dates yet so you’ll catch up fine.”

Rin trusts Hiori’s rationality—and yours too (he’ll never admit it out loud), as his picks up his drink and brings it to the centre of the table midair, against everyone else’s.

“Excuse me—?” Hiori calls over a staff member. “Can we split the bill please?”

She smiles. “It’s already been taken care of.”

“We paid already?” Isagi’s perplexity was evident. “I don’t remember doing that.”

“And you’re remembering right, dumbass.” Rin was confused as well, but Hiori seemed to understand the situation perfectly. The moment the waitress left he almost pounced on you.

You were unfazed by the attack; effortlessly dodging it and grabbing your bag while doing so. “My treat! Thank you and well done for your hard work today.” Out the restaurant you go, followed by a mad Hiori, attracting a few concerned glances.

“Oi—come back you fucking idiot. Let me pay equally dumbass.”

“Wait for us—” Isagi scurries out of the diner booth, ushering Rin out to chase after them. “Hiori—!”

With a tired sigh, Rin follows.

Rin pockets his phone, staring out the train's window instead. You're seated in the seat in front of him again, a similar configuration from lunch, but with Hiori by his side instead of Isagi.

You peer at Isagi's screen. "Your team group chat actually looks fun. Can I join it?"

"It's called a team group chat, of course not." Hiori objects on Isagi's behalf. "We have our own, anyways."

"You either leave me on read and Nijiro only responds with emojis. At least Kurona's fun and sends shark pics." Rin begs Isagi to not surrender to your pleas, the majority of that group chat was already irksome enough.

"Maybe stop spamming it with your reactions to a show that's clearly too scary for you to watch at 1 am."

You retort playfully. "It's not spam if it's beautiful, intricate media analysis."

"What part of screaming about shirtless Ahn Hyo Seop says intricate, or analytical?" With the way Hiori snapped, the gentle boy in the library room was nowhere to be seen. You must have a talent for ruining others' composure.

"Appreciation, of art?"

You continue bickering with Hiori, Isagi as a poor viewer. Rin watches too, in a much calmer way while Isagi awkwardly observes your squabble (and thanking the train for being so empty).

Only when you get up to shake Hiori by the shoulders (a stupid resort in a stupid debate about actors and actresses), Rin bends over to reach for your bag, hand reaching for the zip, an ephemeral disappearance into your bag.

When you have enough of quarreling with Hiori, it was as if nothing happened, you plop back into your seat, not noticing a thing; Rin leans into the backrest, going back to gazing out the window.

TWO | MASTERLIST | FOUR

pairing. itoshi rin x reader

synopsis. all itoshi rin ever wanted was a peaceful high school career, his plans go to ruin thanks to the school's badminton genius; entangling their lives—and emotions together.

contents. rivals to lovers, badminton player!reader, sports romance, fluff, high school au

a/n. hardest part is always the fucking title i swear to god

taglist. @yuzurins, @silly-ez, @chigirizzz, @kaiserkisser, @httpshujii, @saesins, @yoimyas, @saetorinrin, @hxniplayz, @certaindreampost, @rroxii, @jar-03, @celestair, @satoruskitchenrag, @kaitfae, @biaonww, @hellothere9597, @its-ur-pillow, @saesofficialwife, @miyanaranagikenmal-intp, @popponn, @kascar-chronicle—bold means i cannot tag you

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[daevastanner]

A Gwynriel Pam and Jim inspired Oneshot

Are You Free?

Read on Ao3

A snippet:

Gwyn could feel the weighty gaze of Emerie and Nesta upon her as she sipped her wine. In truth she wasn’t thirsty and she’d drunk much more than intended, but she needed a break from answering their incessant questions. Her mouth being full wouldn’t stop them.

“Are you alright?” Emerie pressed, uncorking a third bottle of wine.

No, Gwyn thought, swallowing. 

Instead she shrugged her shoulders. “I will be.” 

Nesta leaned forward from where she sat cross-legged beside Emerie on the plush rug, placing a gentle hand on Gwyn’s knee. “What can we do?”

Gwyn smiled wryly, reaching for the bottle of wine Emerie had opened. She poured herself another hearty glass. “Continue to drink with me.” 

Nesta frowned, withdrawing her hand and turning her gaze to the private library’s roaring hearth. “Are you angry with Elain?” 

Gwyn shook her head. “No, no. She’s an innocent third party. She’s done nothing to warrant my anger.” 

“Then you’re angry with Azriel,” Emerie said, raising her brows.

Nesta’s head snapped back in Gwyn’s direction. It was the priestess’s turn to avert her gaze. She let her eyes scan the books on the shelves while she sifted through her mind on how best to reply. Was there any reason to really be angry with Azriel? If anything he should be angry with her. 

She’d waited until the eve of his moving to the Day Court with Elain to tell him about the bond and her feelings. He’d given her his answer to both facts. What was there to be angry about? 

‘I… The bond makes no difference,’ Azriel said, his expression unreadable. ‘Gwyn… I’m moving with Elain tomorrow.’

‘I know,’ Gwyn replied. ‘I just didn’t want to leave it unsaid. You deserve… You deserve the truth, Shadowsinger. That’s all.’

He’d called training off the next moment. Leaving the ring with a stilted goodbye.

“I’m not mad at Azriel. If anything, both he and Elain should be angry at me,” Gwyn murmured, finally looking back at her sisters. “I told him the truth with the intent of seeing if it would disrupt their plans.” She winced at Nesta. “Are you angry with me? She’s your sister–”

“You’re my sister too,” Nesta said sternly, her lips a flat line. “And I’ve made no secret of my ambivalence for that… relationship.” 

Emerie’s face twisted. “They make a pretty pair, that’s true but there’s no… flavor.”

Nesta nodded. “They’re nice together, but he just–” she cut off, appearing to gather herself. She fixed her attention upon Gwyn. “He comes alive with you.”

Heat rushed to the priestess’s cheeks. “I’m told Elain makes him laugh.”

“You make him laugh!” Emerie insisted. “And you make him tell jokes and tease and–”

“--And be himself,” finished Nesta. 

Gwyn felt her throat tighten as a million memories came to mind. 

Read the rest on Ao3

[cuffmeinblack]

Ohhh I really enjoy your writing and your smut 😏 can I request Sebastian and female MC who are boyfriend and girlfriend just basically going at it anywhere and everywhere… I have issues and need to read this 🥵

Insatiable

Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Tags: explicit | smut | cunnilingus | public sex | unprotected sex

Summary: Sebastian has an insatiable appetite when it comes to you. A boring afternoon in the library takes an exciting turn.

A/n: Some quick and dirty (unedited) Seb smut. *Gilderoy Lockhart voice* For shower sex and more fondling in the library, see my published works.

When it came to public displays of affection, Sebastian was far from shy, drawing groans and wolf whistles from your fellow students whenever you were together. He'd let everyone know you were his, keeping a tight hand on your waist, hand or thigh at all times. He also had an insatiable appetite when it came to you—on several occasions you'd been late to lessons because he'd pulled you into a quiet classroom for a kiss, which had become much more heated.

The previous week you'd been caught fondling in the Astronomy tower by an embarrassed prefect and shooed off of the Owlery steps by a testy Ravenclaw. Sebastian liked you anywhere and everywhere, and you were happy to oblige.

Today was no exception—you'd found yourself bored, twirling your wand in your hand as you tried to read a book about human transfiguration in the library. Sebastian came bounding into the room and planted a swift kiss on your cheek before dropping into the seat next to you. The room was quiet and fairly empty, save from a few older students enjoying their free period at the other end of the study area.

"Good afternoon, sweetheart," he said, lifting your hand off of the desk to kiss your knuckles.

You giggled and blushed, deciding to watch him unpack instead of divert your attention back to your work. His hair was ruffled more than usual from the wind outside the castle, his freckled cheeks taken on a distinct blush from the chill. He caught you watching, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he quirked an eyebrow.

"Something catch your eye?"

"You know very well what," you smiled.

Sebastian leaned towards you, his lips an inch away from your ear before whispering, "tell me you want me."

The softness of his voice and warm breath against your neck made you shudder and bit your lip in anticipation. You knew if you looked into his eyes you'd be done for, so pointedly looked at the wand in your hand, your fidgeting becoming more intense.

"You know I do," you replied in a low voice.

Sebastian brought a hand to your jaw to tilt your head towards him, forcing your gaze to meet his. Your stomach twisted and heat settled in your abdomen as you met his dark eyes—his intense stare was so penetrating and he didn't break it until you let out a small whimper.

Smirking, he kissed you gently and ran a hand under the desk to your thigh, gathering the fabric of your skirt to gain access to the bare skin underneath. 

"Get a room," a voice called across the room.

You broke off your kiss and looked over to the group of fifth years now shaking their heads in your direction. Sebastian was undeterred, continuing his fondling underneath the desk whilst making a rude hand gesture at the students.

"Maybe we should go somewhere more private," you suggested, suppressing a moan as his fingers slipped between your thighs to rub the soft fabric of your underwear.

"Ah, but that's no fun," Sebastian smirked. 

Sebastian looked over his shoulder and glanced back towards the group of students who had interrupted them, now absorbed in their studies. Satisfied that nobody was paying any attention, he removed his hand from your lap and ducked under the desk.

"What the…," you started.

"Shhhh."

He'd crawled completely underneath the large wooden desk out of view and you felt his hands gripping your ankles, running his fingers up your socks to your bare knees and pushing them apart. You gasped and gripped your wand, frantically scanning the room for any sign that someone had noticed.

You felt a tickle on the skin of your inner thighs as Sebastian's hand made its way towards your heat, the ache between your legs now almost unbearable as you waited for his touch. The press of his digits against your sensitive clit was enough to make you gasp and wriggle your hips, desperate for the friction.

He wasted no time in pulling your underwear to the side to gain access to your bare skin, running a finger to part your lips and find your wet entrance. 

"Mmmph, you're so wet," Sebastian whispered under the table.

You rocked your hips in response as he spread your arousal to your swollen clit, pressing a thumb to the area and starting a slow circular motion. Your heart hammered in your chest and face burned as he continued—it felt incredible, and the fact that it was so public was such a thrill.

Sebastian's mouth was pressed against the inside of your thigh, kissing and sucking at your skin, probably leaving the red and purple marks he loved to give you. You chanced a reach down to stroke the hand clinging to your hip as his fingers parted to hold your hand. It was a simple, sweet gesture, a reminder that Sebastian's affections reached farther than physical desire.

"I need you to sit on the edge of the chair," the whisper came from between your legs.

You obeyed, shuffling forward until the edge of the seat was pressed into your behind, leaning back slightly in an uncomfortable slouch. The awkwardness of the position was forgotten as soon as Sebastian's mouth pressed against you, his warm, wet tongue finding the sensitive nub. You clenched your jaw and gripped your wand tightly as you struggled to maintain your composure. 

Arousal and spit were running onto your cheeks, probably creating an unholy mess under the desk, but all you cared about in the moment was that Sebastian absolutely didn't stop. His tongue flicked over you with barely a pause as his fingers dug into your thigh and the other hand kept his grip on yours. You were approaching your climax, your breath growing ragged and skin burning all over under the stifling robes clothing your body.

Sebastian squeezed your hand as you tensed before your orgasm exploded, your legs gripping his head as the intense pulses surged through you. You slammed your wand against the desk, shooting green sparks from the tip as Madam Scribner turned the corner and hushed you with a furious glare. You hid your burning face and muttered an apology, setting your wand down and turning pages in your book until she retreated as Sebastian laughed quietly under the desk.

"You can come out now," you muttered under your breath.

Sebastian continued to kiss your legs before whispering a cleaning spell and crawling out from under the desk. His dark eyes were glittering, lips red and the unmistakeable bulge of his hard cock in his trousers.

"Want some help with that?" you said, barely containing the lust dripping from your voice.

He barely gave you a chance to steady your legs as he pulled you away from the desk, shifting his robes to hide his lower half. Thankfully the hallways were quiet as classes were running, and you dipped into the first free classroom you could find.

Sebastian pinned you against the wall as soon as the door clicked shut, pressing into your behind as he lifted your skirt and pulled down your underwear. He ripped open his buttons, pulling his throbbing erection out of his trousers and ran his head over your still dripping entrance.

"Oh Seb," you gasped as he pushed into you with a loud groan.

"You feel amazing, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear.

He didn't hold back, clutching your hips painfully tightly as he hit you hard and deep with every thrust. You could feel him tensing and his groans and gasps growing in intensity until he finally pushed you hard into the wall as he finished. You gasped and sighed with satisfaction as his cock pulsed inside you and he slumped against your back, breathing heavily.

"I'll never…get enough of you," he said, kissing your neck in between breaths.

[howyouloveyourdragon]

alicent has a younger omega sister who is politically savvy but ignored by otto. when it is announced that alicent is marrying the king the hightower omega reader and alpha rhaenyra team up (get married) and become a power couple to get back at otto. if you want them to reconcile with alicent that may be something good to have happen but not likely to happen with otto as there's a lot of differences/anger between them. Headcanons though you can use it if you want to turn it into a longer thing.

pronouns: she/her warnings: inferences of misogyny

A/n: your honour i love hightower reader, i got carried away but i hope you still like! this idea is going straight into my pocket

okay so i'm going to use the assumption that Otto had the idea to place Alicent as Queen for a long time so he focussed most of his attention on influence Viserys and Alicent

so he doesn't have plans for you just assumes that once Alicent is married, he will have a plentiful of powerful lords offering tributes for your hand

he doesn't suspect that everything can flip so quickly

I think Viserys would take interest in you for your intellect if he noticed some of the quips you made or the books you read

so he may offer you become a cupbearer to sooth your curiosity

I imagine that Otto wouldn't be entirely happy about this because of your nature but it is another step to gaining the King's favour so he lets it slide

then you almost drop the large jug of wine on Lord Beesbury's lap when the announcement is made but you don't say anything until you're both back at your private quarters, you decide to deal with Alicent later, she's a mere pawn in your father's game but she is not completely innocent

"I don't understand." You roar at your father. "Alicent has been gallivanting with the heir to the Iron Throne since they were children and now you have her betray the princess? Are you a fool, father?" Otto's gaze narrowed as he stared past his child's exterior. "She may not always be the heir." He snapped, his implication clear. Y/n stepped back and scoffed, folding her arms. "You cannot be serious."

"When your sister bears a son, the King will reconsider her position."

that changes everything because you always suspected your father of wanting to claim the Iron throne but this was direct treason

you call him an idiot and storm out basically

and you smack into an equally furious Rhaenyra who is seething

you both share a heated stare but there is no malice

her eyes flicker over you in recognition

"You're Alicent's sister." She states to which you nod warily. "A Hightower."

That's when you clench your jaw and she definitely notices, now with a mischievous glint in her eyes instead of her anger and a burning idea "Well spotted, your grace"

if it were her father you were speaking to, you may have bowed but you knew Rhaenyra, you had seen her fume at the thought of biting her tongue, you doubted she would appreciate you holding yours.

"It seems I am in need of a new lady-in-waiting." You cock your head but don't give her the satisfaction of asking, if she wants something you want her to work for it and especially now that you know of your father's plans to usurp the throne

It's Rhaenyra's turn to clench her jaw

"Would you be interested?" Were you interested in becoming the future Queen's lady-in-waiting? Yes of course you were but Alicent was still your sister and you didn't want to just replace her because of the princess' judgment

then again, wouldn't it be fair to betray her like she had betrayed Rhaenyra? "I would be honoured, princess." You agreed, attracting a smirk to her lips

Her lips curl and her eyes narrow playfully as she links your arms

so the next three years you spend under your princess' arm and discussing the future of King's Landing

but there's no giggling in the godswood or studying Nymeria–you're not Alicent and you need her to know that

in its place you instate deep speeches in the library and chasing one another through the castle

since then, Rhaenyra has presented as an alpha and her presence as heir has practically been reaffirmed for it

she's still the same mischievous teenager that she was when she was younger but with you by her side, guiding her through political and social events, she's much more secure in herself

the idea of you seems to linger in her mind now that her liberties have been broadened, the restrictions from when she was younger no longer apply

her father still wants her to get married but he's a lot more relaxed around it considering her position and large prospects

your own relationship with your father hasn't improved, you're both increasingly wary of each other with snide remarks while dining but even those times are few as the princess demands your presence at her own table where she bears no shame flirting with you while Alicent grips her cup too tight to be coincidental

after one dinner in particular two scenarios happen, one between you and your sister and one between Rhaenyra and her father

"What are you doing?" She asks, hurt clear in the shake of her tone

"What?"

"You chastise me for heeding father's ambition and yet you do the same as I. You're a hypocrite" That boils your blood but you stay as calm as possible

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Yes you do!" She snaps "You're taking her from me!"

"She was never yours!"

"But she could have been" Alicent's voice comes out choked and you finally see the tears in her eyes "if I'd known she was a...I, I would have–" She doesn't need to finish her sentence as you wrap your arms around her and hush her cries

it was times like these that you forget she was the elder

your hand strokes through her hair as she murmurs her pains and regrets

meanwhile, Rhaenyra is working on keeping her shoulders level as she stands straight and composed opposite her father

"I have something to ask of you" She tells him and he's surprised at the authority of her voice "Then speak it" "I wish to claim a bride" His eyebrows shoot up, fairly certain that she would have suggested an allegiance with House Velaryon. He nods in encouragement and smiles "Of whom?" "Y/n Hightower" He nods and grasps her hands in his "Of course, my dear child" Though there is the slightest hesitation and suspicion in him, this is the second Hightower child to be brought into the Targaryen dynasty and Otto's influence feel overbearing these days

However he could never deny his darling daughter Rhaenyra of course

a lot happens that night but she doesn't tell you of the news right away, she waits a few moons to make sure it is something you would be interested in, she was rejected by Alicent she could just as easily be rejected by you too

but she had to try

so once the sun has fully set on the fourth night since and the moon shines down on you like a promise, you brush through the courtyard trying to understand the scalding heat in your loins while whimpers drip from your mouth

you lay upon the cold stone of a bench and take deep breaths until you're found

by Rhaenyra

and with a bright beam of her smile she is telling you the good news as you present yourself to her like an unfolding flower

with a new glow and spring in your step, you're attached to the hip

she likes that you can be affectionate in public with her, that was one of the reasons her relationship with Alicent deteriorated, she always felt like she was about to get caught

you can tell your father feels torn at the news, this one step closer to a Hightower on the throne but that Hightower has stated her dislike of the idea

as you enter the throne room to arrange the betrothal, Otto's eyes are as trained on you as yours are on his and the tension isn't hidden, a standoff waiting to happen

When it comes to the wedding and you begrudgingly take his arm down the aisle, his mouth is close to your ear

"I hope you understand now, I am only here to protect you." Your eyes turn to him, emotions indistinguishable "I'm sure" Your voice is dry and lacks depth, erupted an irritated sigh to escape your father's chest "Must you always be so difficult?" "Must you always be so delluded" He doesn't have a chance to respond as it comes time

He turns to remove your cloak only to remember that it's not there and steps to the side

Viserys was happy enough to perform a Valyrian ceremony for his daughter and at the word 'unbreakable' you knew it was the way to go

all uncertainties are lost as intimate family witness the union

you avoid Alicent's eyes and when you finally meet them you don't find the distaste you expected

as Rhaenyra and you lock your stinging hands together, there's a transfer of something deeper within you

[crazyunsexycool]

Heart’s Munition

Chapter 3

Pairing: mob boss!steve rogers x maid single mom!reader

Word count: 3.2 k

Warnings: implied smut, sick child, vomiting but not graphic, asshole steve

Series masterlist

Ch 2.

“This is where we keep the cleaning supplies for the first floor. If you go up the stairs and to the left you’ll find the same set up on the second and third floor. That way we don’t have to carry anything up and down the stairs.” You explained to the new maid, Lily.

She was cute which worried you. But until now you hadn’t seen the petite blonde do anything out of line. You had hopes that she would be around for a while.

“Let me show you around the areas that you’ll be responsible for. Although most of them we can switch around there are some that are solely my responsibility. Like the boss’ bedroom and his office. If anyone on his team says it’s off limits then it’s off limits. It’s best to listen to them and keep your head down.”

“Wow, if I go somewhere I’m not supposed to, am I fired? I mean if I didn’t know I couldn’t go in there?” She asks, concerned.

“Coulson would most likely talk to you about it first. Unless it’s one of the private areas. But I’ll show you those as we go along.” You say as you get closer to Steve’s office. “This is the boss’ office. Never just walk in there, always knock and wait until you’ve been allowed in.” You point at three more doors. “That’s the library, that is a movie room and this is the other bathroom.”

“Hey doll, I thought I heard you out here. What’s going on?���

“I’m just showing Lily around the house. She is the newest member of the house staff. Lily, this is James Barnes, he’s friends with our boss and his right hand.”

“Pleasure to meet you Lily.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” She smiled sweetly up at him.

“Can I talk to you for a second, Doll? Privately.”

You follow Bucky to the end of the hallway as you have a whispered conversation about keeping Lily as far away from Steve as possible. Only it was too late because he opened the door to find her just standing there. You mutter a curse before walking back to Lily while he introduces himself.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m Lily. Thank you for this opportunity, I promise I’ll work very hard.” She beams.

Things had been tense since you confronted him about Peter following a few days ago. Since then he’s been distant and if you walked into a room he was in he’d either stop talking until you left or he would walk out. There was something else going on, you were sure of it, but his attitude towards you was irritating.

Steve looks up and catches your eye for a moment. The second you notice his attention on you, you mouth ‘please don’t.’ Which makes him smirk before looking back down at the new maid. His demeanor changed completely and you crossed your arms before looking back at Bucky. He gives you a tight lipped smile in return. Steve flirts a bit with Lily before you stop the interaction from going further.

“Alright, well we have a very busy day ahead of us, so if you’ll excuse us.” You put a hand around Lily to usher her out of the hall.

“I was just getting to know my new employee. I’m sure you can make time so that I can get to know her better.”

“Then have someone follow her.” You whisper yell in his direction when she’s around the corner. His flirty demeanor is gone and again Steve glares at you for a moment before walking back into his office.

Bucky gives you a thumbs up while he chuckles, following Steve.

Who Steve slept with was none of your business, you were very aware of that. But if it affected your job you had to try to stop it. The extra money was good but you needed to be with Elijah too. With that in mind you decided to talk to Lily about it. You waited until the end of the day and stopped her just outside of the gate.

“Before you leave for the night I need to ask for a favor.”

“Anything.” Lily says with a smile.

“I’ve been here a while and I know the boss enough to know when he’s flirting.”

Her cheeks turned red at your words and she had a small smile on her lips.

“Just please read your employment agreement again and don’t sleep with him.”

Her smile dropped as concern took over her features. “But why would he flirt with me if I would get in trouble?”

“Because he can? Just please remember that.”

“Ok, thank you for the heads up, I wouldn’t want to lose this job. Have a good night.”

“Good night.” You said as you both parted ways.

A few minutes after starting your walk a car slowed down beside you. Your heart slammed against your chest until the window came down and Peter called your name.

“Do you want a ride? I’m heading in that direction anyways.”

You rush to the passengers side and get in, a little sigh of relief escapes you.

“Thank you, my feet are killing me.”

“Don’t mention it.” Peter smiles and starts driving. You rest your head against the window and watch as the world passes by.

****

“Y/N.” You feel a light shake. “Y/N, wake up we’re here.” You open your eyes and look around. Sure enough you’re in your neighborhood.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Don’t worry about it. You work hard and it’s better that it happened here and not on public transport.” He assures you. “Would it be ok if I came in and said hi?”

“Of course, Eli would be happy to see you.”

Peter looks around until he finds an empty parking spot. You walk ahead of him and lead him up all the way to your apartment where Mrs. Fields was making dinner.

“You’re home early, dear.”

“Peter gave me a ride today.” You motion behind you and the older woman smiles at him. “How is he doing?”

“He was able to keep some food down and he’s watching a show in his room.”

“Good. That’s really good.” You say as you rush to Eli’s room. With a knock on the door you poke your head in to find him sitting up on his bed. “Hi baby, how are you feeling?”

“I’m ok. I missed you.”

“Oh baby I missed you too.” You say as you bring him in for a hug. He still looked weak but after a few days of barely eating and being sick it was expected. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“Someone is here to see you.”

“Is it uncle Peter?” Eli perks up at the possibility.

“It is.” Peter says from the door. “Hey little man, how are you feeling?”

“Better. Ma can I play some games with uncle Peter?”

“Of course sweetheart. I’m going to go shower really quickly.” You excuse yourself and take a few minutes to yourself in the shower.

Once you’re done and out of the bathroom you head to the kitchen. Mrs. Fields was putting the finishing touches on dinner. After dinner Peter leaves and Mrs. Fields leaves with him. Now it’s just you and Elijah. You grab the medicine bottles that he needs to take before bed and a glass of water.

“Mommy I don’t want to take them anymore.” Your son pleads with teary eyes.

“I know baby but they’ll help you feel better.”

You measure out the first medicine and hand Eli the cup. He grimaces at the taste and you hand him the cup of water. Once he’s done you give him the three pills he also has to take. Eli pouts once he’s done but you ignore it.

“How about some dessert for taking all your meds?”

“Ok.”

You get up and serve yourself and Eli a bowl of ice cream. In his room you sit with him in your lap and watch a few episodes of power rangers. He starts to doze off a few minutes into the fourth episode but before you’re able to put him down and tuck him in for the night his eyes snap open and the sick look in his face has you grabbing the bucket you keep by his bed. Elijah empties the contents of his stomach and then lays back down. He immediately starts to cry and you can’t do much other than hold him. After having him brush his teeth you lay Eli back down and read him a bedtime story.

Once you know he’s asleep you clean up the mess and head to the living room where you make up the couch in order to lay down and get some rest of your own. In the dark of night while no one is awake to hear it you cry for your son. You cry in fear that you might lose him and that doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him. You’ve never felt as powerless as you do at this moment because your baby’s life is slipping through your fingers and there’s nothing you can do about it.

The following few days are the same. You get to work, you show Lily around and Peter drives you home. At home you have dinner and before bed Elijah is sick again. You’ve barely slept because you’re constantly going into his room to make sure he’s still breathing. In short you’re exhausted.

The only thing that was going well was work. Well it was going well until you walked by one of the guest rooms and heard two people going at it. A sinking feeling hits you square in the chest and you stop what you were going to do and search the house only to find your suspicions confirmed. Lily was nowhere to be seen and neither was Steve.

At some point Bucky and Sam walk in to start their work for the day. It was a perfect storm really because just then Lily walks down the stairs to be met with everyone’s prying eyes. Her clothes were disheveled, cheeks were flushed, lips were slightly swollen and her hair was a mess. Bucky shakes his head in disapproval and looks your way. You only manage to shrug but really you wanted to cry. Not because Steve was sleeping with someone but because you were running on fumes. Having someone else to share the workload was the relief you needed.

“You were right, I don’t know why I didn’t listen.” She says to you before walking away.

Just as she steps out of the living room Steve walks down the stairs. A huge smile adorns his face and he even winks at you. You ignore him and turn on your heel and head to the kitchen.

“Really? That’s a new record, three whole days before seducing an employee.”

“Couldn’t help myself, she’s so cute.”

Steve had a smirk on his face that disappeared the moment both Sam and Bucky shot him disapproving looks. They headed toward Steve’s office without a second glance and left him wondering if he had fucked up.

****

About an hour later Steve is knocking on Coulson’s door after having his calls ignored. Without waiting for an answer Steve opens the door to find you wiping away tears and Coulson handing you a tissue.

“Just go home for the day. We can manage.” Phil says before looking up at Steve. The same disapproving look is in Phil’s eyes.

“No, I can’t.”

“You can and you will. You have paid vacation days. As a matter of fact I won’t even count them as vacation days. These are extra days.”

“But…” you wanted to argue that you needed them in case of an emergency.

“I’m not going to hear any of it. Go, I’ll have Parker take you home. Come back on Monday well rested.”

“Fine.”

At that moment Steve realized how tired you truly looked. The guilt settled over him quickly, it was never his intention to have you be overworked because of him. You get up and walk out of the office only offering Steve an angry look.

“What was that about?”

“She’s tired and upset because her boss keeps making her job harder than it needs to be. She’s been without help in her duties for weeks.”

“It can’t just be that.”

“You’re right. It’s not just that. There are other things going on in her personal life that add stress but you…” Coulson struggles to find the words he wants to use. “Keep fucking up.” He spits out.

“If you haven’t noticed this is my home. I do what I want and whoever I want. I’m under enough stress myself, I don’t need you or the maid to judge me for how I decide to relieve that stress.”

“Yes, but unlike you Y/N didn’t choose the life she has. It was handed to her and she tries her best. So why don’t you try to keep it in your pants or at least don’t sleep with the house staff.”

Steve is taken aback by his employee’s attitude. Coulson has never been one to talk back in this manner.

“Hey, is everything ok with Y/N? It seems like she was crying.” Bucky had stopped at the door to Coulson’s office.

“Why don’t you ask your friend? He’s the one making her cry.”

“Steve what did you do now?”

“I did nothing. And since when are Parker and Y/N friends?” Steve crosses his arms over his chest.

“Since you had him follow her a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Bucky is taken aback by the revelation. “What has gotten into you, punk?”

Steve just rolls his eyes and walks away from the questions. He felt like he was out of the loop on a lot of things. Why was everyone so protective of you? What could be happening in your life that you were so stressed out about? He could fix it all if you would only let him in.

The weekend flew by but you were grateful for it nonetheless. Elijah had a good day which was all you could as for. You spent it cuddled up watching movies, getting some much needed fresh air and playing video games. He beat you a few times but you’d lose a thousand times over if it meant hearing him joke and laugh. You were able to catch up on some sleep as well which you had desperately needed.

Now you are back at work. The morning had been pleasantly uneventful but something was happening. There were extra guards milling about. Murmurs and whispers about someone coming to visit in the afternoon. You couldn’t be bothered with the information.

There were two good things about the day. First Coulson had told you he had an interview for another maid and he felt good about this person. Second, you hadn’t seen Steve all morning. You were still pissed off at him for the stunt he pulled, it’s like he was doing it on purpose just to get under your skin.

“Mia Cara, can you do me a favor?” Dom called out to you from the kitchen.

“Anything, what do you need?”

“Take this into the boss’ office please. He’s in the middle of a meeting so make sure to knock and wait for an answer.”

“Sure thing.” You grab the tray and head toward Steve’s office.

It wasn’t uncommon for Steve to have meetings in his home but there was something off about this. Normally Coulson handled taking anything into Steve’s office but he was busy at the moment. There were guards standing in the hallway, they gave you a hint of a smile as you passed by. At the door you knocked and heard a muffled come in.

Inside Steve was sitting at his desk, Bucky and Sam were sitting on the couch and someone you didn’t know was sitting opposite of Steve. You silently moved to serve the drinks you had on the tray. Setting it down on the edge of Steve’s desk you have your back to the stranger. You offer Steve his drink first and the. You turn around to give the man with the mustache his. Turning your back to him again you move to grab the tray but everything stops suddenly.

“Thanks, sunshine.” The stranger had smacked your ass.

It all happened so fast, you turned on your heel and slapped him hard. Then Steve was on him, hands gripping the other man’s shirt as Steve dragged him up from the chair and got in his face. Sam pulled you away from them while Bucky tried to separate Steve from his guest.

“Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on her again, Hansen.” Steve was red in the face. His handsome features twisted by rage into someone you didn’t know.

Was this why he was so feared?

“Oh come on, Rogers. She knows I was just kidding, right pumpkin?”

“You touch me again and I’ll cut your hands off you prick.” You snap back but it only made his grin wider.

“Oh she’s feisty. I can see why you have her around. That attitude and that ass?” Hansen groans as he imagines who knows what in that sick head of his. “Bet she’s all kinds of fun when she isn’t wound up so tight.”

Steve pulls back and connects his fist to Hansen’s face. That’s the last thing you saw before Sam pulled you out of the room. He motioned for the guards to go in there and help while he took you to the kitchen.

“What the hell happened?” Dom asked as he took in your bewildered expression.

“Hansen was inappropriate toward Y/N and you know how he feels about it.”

“Inappropriate how?”

“He smacked my ass as a thank you for handing him his drink. I slapped him back. Now Steve is handling it.”

“It’s the least he could do.” Dom said before he started muttering in Italian.

There’s a commotion in the living room and Hansen promptly walks out of the house. He caught a glimpse of you though and winked in your direction. Bucky was at the end of the line of guards and informed you that Steve wanted to see you.

****

“You wanted to see me?” You ask from the open door.

“Yeah, come in. Close the door.”

You did as he asked but leaned against the door.

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what? You weren’t the one that grabbed my ass.”

“I never wanted you to see that…” he waves his hand in the air vaguely as you walk closer to him. “I don’t want you to be scared of me. I would never do anything to hurt you, you know that right? The other day with Lily, I’m sorry about that too.

You nod but don’t say anything. Instead you focus on his hand. His knuckles were bloody and instinctively you take it to inspect for any injuries of his own.

The gesture seemed too intimate for Steve. He had wanted you close but not like this. Not in a way where you could see his weak points. Somehow you were turning into one of them.

“It doesn’t hurt does it?” You looked up at him through your lashes.

“No, nothing I haven’t done before.”

“Thank you.” You say as Steve turns in his hand to hold yours this time.

“For what?”

“Defending me.”

Steve brings your hand up to his lips and places a gentle kiss, a huge contrast to his attitude earlier.

“I’d do anything for you.”

You didn’t know it now, but in the near future he would prove to you just how much he meant it.

Ch 4

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[onelocket]

hello!!

i hope you’re having a nice day, whether you’re back or still not back. though i would like to ask, when you can, can you please do another of your selective mute reader x fyodor? but selective mute reader is upset and sad since i myself am hsjejhehe.. i’d like it in headcanon form but do what you’re comfy with!! — your new 💫 anon

hello 💫 anon! i’m actually still conflicted with returning or not since i still have entrance exams, but when i saw this i just had to reply right away. i’m glad you’ve found fondness to my selective reader x fyodor and i hope this post can make you feel at least a bit better. you didn’t specify much, so i wish nothing here offends you. thank you for requesting ♡

your lover needs a hug! fyodor d. x selective mute!reader

involves -- relation to this post, high school au

headcanons

The moment he saw you that one afternoon,

All down and low, a hand pressed against the classroom’s glass? It sure caught his attention more than he initiated it. He was simply walking by after returning a few books to the school’s library, but this wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen a glimpse of you suddenly all gloomy. Fyodor is always able to catch your presence even in the quietest and emptiest of rooms.

"(Name)." Fyodor spoke quietly as he picked his limit to his words. He slowly glides the sliding door shut, trapping you both in a more private situation. But before he steps any further, he knocks on the door to alert you again — "…It’s me."

Well supposedly, you should knock first before entering. Fyodor knew that enough, but part of his heart just couldn’t shake the worry to walk into the picture as agile as he could, no matter how many times this would happen. So can he be blamed, really? It’d be a discomfort to see your lover all sad about something you know they won’t be able to voice out.

A side the same, but a bit nicer now

He wouldn’t want to pressure you, that’s something all can agree to. If you were anybody else then perhaps he might consider the fleeting amusement to your vulnerability — but you weren’t. And he was going to make sure you knew that.

"Come here." He whispered, taking a few calculated steps to your direction as he stopped at a smaller distance.

He was undeniably trying to get you out of the easy view anyone can take of in the window, but as he sees you thoughtless, he’d just let out a small sigh before taking his words for himself rather than repeating it. Normally would he find it slightly irritating, especially since he asks the same thing each time you did so by a window; or anywhere public really, but he knows being mad at you wouldn’t help it go away.

He kind of already knows what would’ve bothered you…

Because you are his important person, simply put. He wouldn’t have to require you to inform him what happened, even if it was something nobody else knew at all. Not to say he’s always aware of what’s specifically bothering you, but he will have an idea — a guess or two.

"It’s okay.." Fyodor says, his own school uniform making a quiet shifting sound to turn your attention to him slightly, his hands gesturing an ask for holding you.

When you allow him, he takes it as slowly as he can, wrapping his arms around your waist as he gave you a tiny smile. "You don’t have to do anything. I know what happened."

He wouldn’t also mind if you did talk about it though. Whether it be with notes or sign language. Bonus if it was your voice, but hey, he would never force you about that, allowing yourself to be assured by the facts that you weren’t required to talk. Your presence was to suffice.

Quiet whispers and gentle kisses

If there’s one thing he wouldn’t forget during the act of comforting you, it’d be kisses and sweet whispers. Public or not, Fyodor would try to give you at least a soft kiss. He’ll tuck a few strands of hair away from your face as he gives you kisses on your forehead, keeping his fingertips light and graceful — whispering you some questions that might aid you in calming you down.

"Would you like me to excuse us to our last period, milaya?" He suggests, to which you deny by slightly, and albeit reluctantly, shaking your head. ..Alright. I love you."

In amidst the silence would he warm it up with his touch, the seconds elongating into minutes as you also denied the realization of this moment to end. His soft whispers in your ears to ease and soothe you down were always his path to calm you, but if you didn’t feel like it, Fyodor always has his physical touch to help out as well.

Your acceptance to his hold would be enough

Since if you can’t find a reply through words, your actions fulfill the Dostoevsky more instead. Your body turning to face him would be one of his favorite things to see or feel if he was holding you, especially when your hands submit to take or press against his skin.

"There you are." He cooed, pressing another kiss on your forehead before pulling away, keeping the proximity intimate and comfortable. "Look at me, (Name)?"

"..Lovely. You’re so lovely."

Sometimes he asks you to look at him, and although it is also to let himself indulge in the pretty sight of your eyes; it was also to read your expression better. He’ll admit that you never speaking had its own ways for him to understand you, but it was never going to be difficult for him anyway. Nothing will be, especially when it’s for you.

If you’re crying, he’ll let you

Besides, what kind of boyfriend doesn’t? If he was holding you as you cried, he’d subtly tighten his grip on you, a careful expression on his features as he listened to your sobs, holding you close to him without a care now if people saw you two from the window.

"You’re fine now. Stay with me and you’ll be safe, okay? Let it out."

While it’s not easy to deny that he could be a bit irritated by the damp spots you could leave on his uniform, he could always wash them after class. His uniform has an easy fix anytime, meanwhile you always had a chance to lose that fix. And he wasn’t going to let it slip away.

If anyone walks inside the classroom?

Fyodor would just stare at them. Usually only when you aren’t looking into his eyes, though. Let’s say, perhaps you’ve had your head resting on his shoulder. The moment somebody takes a longer stare at you two more than should be — your boyfriend would simply stare back, his purple eyes almost threatening its own mind to glare, but kept his calm and quiet as he held you. He’d keep staring till that persons gone, to which, usually is the resort to his wordless reply.

Above all, you are his priority ^^

Whether the issue be something big or small, if it affected you this much for it to be involving itself in class hours, Fyodor will always be there for you. To him, having a lover like you is so endearing and special, like he has to protect you with what he has. And he pretty much does what he’s thinking of. Need for his touch? Need for his words? He’ll know, and he’ll give it with as much emotion as you could handle from him.

⚘

[risingoftime]

WE NEED RIRI WILLIAMS X FEM READER SMUT!! RIRI IS DADDY HONESTY

𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 & 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 | 𝖗𝖎𝖗𝖎 𝖔 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

part i | part ii

thank you anon for this request ✧˚ · so sorry for the wait!

synopsis: Riri has always been one step ahead of you. She is always at the top of her class, and you are not too far behind. Each time you think you got something, she’s right there. You’ve finally had enough of the competition and decide to confront her.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: smut, semi public sex, fingering, oral sex, face riding, sub!reader, dom!Riri, light dom sub, swearing, biting, orgasm denial/control.

18+ | minors do not interact

➴ feel free to send me more thots

I glared toward Riri across the library. But, of course, you both were one of the select few who stayed late on campus to study for exams. I tried my hardest to look over the assigned formulas and equations, but her presence was enough to keep me on my toes. Riri’s cornrows were neatly braided and twisted into a low bun, and her baby hair laid on her forehead as she analyzed her textbook. How pathetic can I be? In a secret competition with a person who rarely gives me a second glance. The only time anyone has gotten her attention is if they book her academic services. I’m sure that at this point, I’m the only one in our class who doesn’t have her number saved. But our names have always been next to each other—Hers above and mine below. I wish I knew how she did it. According to MIT gossip, Princess Shuri has even visited her dorms. How the fuck did she manage that?

I didn’t recognize how long I was staring until Riri raised her head for her eyes to meet mine. My heart almost beat out of my chest. Crap, she saw me staring. I quickly averted my eyes to review my messy notes and highlighted textbook. Underactuated robotics has never been my strong suit, and I must study ten times harder to secure my GPA. Although I knew this, I was itching to steal another glance in Riri’s direction. At this point, I’d have to leave and study back at my apartment. I gathered my belongings and placed them in my backpack.

“I hope you’re not leaving because of me.”

There she was, standing in all of her glory. Riri wore her nefarious smirk as she looked down at me. This is the first time she’s spoken to me, and Riri assumes she could intimidate me. I rolled my eyes and reached for my packed tote bag.

“Please, you think that you can make me leave? You’re so full of yourself,” I sighed.

“Well, you have been shooting daggers in my direction since I got here,” Riri said.

Fuck, so she did notice me staring. Riri continuously operated like she never cared for those who shared her surroundings. She is always in and out, only talking with her close friends and customers. Meanwhile, she might as well pay rent in my head for how long she stays in my mind.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind, exams begin tomorrow, and I don’t have time for meaningless conversations,” I stated.

I gestured for her to move out of my way. I couldn’t stand being so close to her for long. If I did, she would notice I was not as calm and collected as I presented myself.

“Hold on, no need to be in such a hurry. You’re in my robotics class. With Professor Winston?” She held my wrist, keeping me in place. I leaned against the desk, a feeble attempt to create space between us.

“Yeah, every Tuesday,” I grumbled.

Riri quietly nodded to herself, “Well, if you’re not too busy, maybe we could compare notes? We’re always the top two in class. It’s not common for me to find someone who could keep up” Riri let out a small laugh, but I didn’t find it funny. Keep up. If only she knew how competitive I indeed could be.

“Yeah, sure, you could let go of my wrist now. I’m not going to run away.”

Riri slowly removed her hand from my wrist to pack her things. She led me toward the private study rooms and opened one for us to enter. We both placed our textbooks and notes on the table, sitting beside each other. Riri explained her study methods and reviewed the nonlinear dynamics of robotic manipulations and motion planning with me. Riri made everything sound so simple and easy to comprehend. The way her brain navigated equations and theories left me speechless.

“It’s getting late. I think we should get going before the library closes,” I said. Truthfully, I didn’t want to leave; I wanted to spend more time learning from Riri. But if I didn’t get going now, I would pay for it later when I got up in the morning for our exam.

“Okay, so what’s your form of payment?” she replied.

“Payment?” I almost yelled at her audacity.

“You didn’t think I just offered my services for free, did you?”

“You never mentioned that I would have to give you something in exchange, and I don’t have any cash. Do you accept other forms of payment? I could always repay the favour.”

“I have something else in mind.” Riri places her hands on my bare thighs, toying with the ends of my mini skirt. My breath hitched at the warmth of her presence. I am paralyzed by the realization that Riri wants her to pay with her body. But why?

“I’ve always wanted to do this from the moment you walked in at the beginning of the semester. You’re the last person I would’ve thought to keep me on my toes. Walking around in these mini skirts, crop tops, and revealing clothing. I’ve wondered how you would,” Riri confessed.

Her calloused fingers went further up my thighs until they disappeared under my skirt, almost brushing against the fabric of my panties. Riri’s eyes met mine, seeking permission to continue. She hadn’t even begun, and I already felt lost for words.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked.

“Tell me you don’t want me to go on, and I won’t, but I won’t forget that you owe me a favour,” she said. Truthfully, I didn’t want her to stop. This is the most attention I’ve received from Riri, and I enjoyed every second. I tentatively shook my head before replying.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Riri swivelled my chair to face her and used both hands to pull me to the end of my chair. My legs were slightly parted when Riri slid my panties off, pooling at my ankles. She didn’t break eye contact when she traced her finger along my pussy.

“Now be a good girl for me and spread your legs,” she demanded. I nodded and obeyed, giving Riri full access to do as she pleased. I kept my bottom lip tucked between my teeth to silence my gasp as she pushed two fingers inside me. Closing my eyes so I could focus on the feeling of her inside me. I rocked my hips back and forth, matching my pace with Riri.

Riri brushed her lips against mine and whispered, “open your eyes. I want you to watch me fucking you.” I was weak to her commands. A knowing smile appeared across Riri’s face, and her eyes shined mischievously. I watched as she lowered her head to lick and suck my inner thighs. Leaving a kiss on my clit before softly flicking her tongue against the sensitive bud.

“Riri, please,” I moaned.

She hummed against my pussy in response, and her fingers beckoned me forward as each thrust became more profound. Riri’s other hand gripped my waist to grind me against her face. My body moved into a fluid rhythm as Riri guided my movements while she fucked me. My eyes rolled back, and my legs began shaking from the sensation. I inhaled sharply before letting out a slight whine. Riri removed her fingers from me and pulled away.

“Baby, you have to stay quiet, or we’re going to get caught”

“I don't care,” I groaned. At this moment, all that mattered was her and I. I craved her presence and the return of her mouth against my skin. I positioned my pussy closer to her face so she could continue, but she didn’t move from her stance, waiting for me to meet her eyes.

“If you make another sound, I will stop, and you won’t cum” she challenged. Her tone was low and aggressive. I shivered at her response and the thought of Riri having such control over my body. I rolled my lips into a firm line. This wasn’t the time to test her. She took my silence as a yes, praising me softly before roughly inserting her fingers in my entrance. Wet noises filled the study room each time she pulled in and out. Riri was no longer gentle, creating endless friction and sending waves of bliss through my body. Each time I got close to cumming, she slowed to make me last longer. It was torturous.

Riri’s tongue traced circles on my inner thighs, teasing me. She wanted to make me squirm, but I refused to give in. When I didn’t let out even a sigh, her lips rubbed against my folds, covering herself with my juices. I felt myself dripping in anticipation. Riri extended her tongue to part my folds, tasting the liquid running down. My walls clenched around her hand. I am frantic with desire and need, fucking her face and fingers on the edge of my seat. She slipped in and out of my pussy with ease.

I felt myself become light-headed and my vision hazy. I was drowning in lust. Riri made me feel intoxicated. Sparks ignited within me, and I knew I was close. Just as she was about to slow down again, losing rhythm as my climax approached. I growled in protest. Before I could register what I had just done, Riri pulled away to stand up.

“get yourself together and put your panties on,” she said.

Riri grabbed my chin, tilting my head up to kiss me. I could taste myself on her lips and the sinful actions that left me out of breath. She seemed reluctant to pull away, as if she were in a daze.

“I don’t think we’re done yet,” I replied.

“oh, I believe we are babe,” Riri claimed.

I shot a glare toward her while I made myself presentable and cleaned the mess we made. The study room looked as if nothing had happened once I was done. After observing my work, I caught Riri staring at me with a grin.

“can I help you?” I playfully asked.

“No, but you can tomorrow after our exams. You were right; I don’t think we are done just yet. I hope you remember all that I taught you,” she winked.

I couldn’t reply before she turned around to leave the room. Fuck I forgot about our exam. All my mind could remember was Riri kneeling before me, her demands still clear.

[savage-rhi]

random headcanon about Ardyn go!

@vodkafolie THANK YOU. HOLY SHIT. THANK YOU. I'm gonna share 2 cause I'm in the spirit 💯✨(I might be repeating myself or shared these before, but it's been a hot minute and Imma do it again!)

Headcanon #1: Secret Artist

I imagine Ardyn is quite good at drawing (in my fanfics at least), and he picked up on it while studying medicine and healing way back in the day. He probably started drawing plants/herbs and labeling them in a journal so he had a reference to look back on if he needed a specific ingredient. As he developed a knack for the details, he moved on to drawing sceneries or places he's visited in Lucis, and naturally from there, began drawing people, enjoying the challenge of capturing the spirit of somebody with his hands.

In the present, Ardyn draws in the privacy of his chambers or when he's sneaking around Gralea alone. Drawing keeps him grounded, especially when he's overwhelmed by the daemonic energy coursing through him, and it allows Ardyn to be close to people again but without interfering (because even though he's beyond saving, the dude's still human and wants connection even from a distance).

There are ancient art journals of Ardyn's somewhere in Lucis that have yet to be lost to time or even hidden in libraries because he didn't typically sign his stuff. I imagine his followers tried to preserve something of him or even Somnus (the latter as atonement for what happened between them) thousands of years ago.

Headcanon #2: Poor Vision

Ardyn's vision could be better (another headcanon from my fanfic, he can't see too well up close), but no one would think twice about it because he overly compensates. He started having vision problems when he was a teen, and given his royal status, he hid it from most people except those close. Culturally, his poor vision could've been taken as a bad omen from the people of Lucis due to superstition (a blind king could refuse to see the people, the gods, and the land, thus purge everything), so he didn't receive much help for his ailment.

The power Ardyn got from the scourge offered some relief for his condition, but when he's in a regular state and not gassed up on daemonic energy, his vision goes back to being poor. When significant events are coming up, battles, etc., Ardyn's eyes will look more orange/yellow than usual because he's purposefully directing the daemonic energy in his body to fix his eyesight so that he's fully prepared for anything to go amiss. It takes a lot out of him though.

In the present, Ardyn wears glasses, but mostly in private because despite knowing the omen is a dated belief (and quite frankly, horse shit, as he'd put it), it's hard to break out of something that's been ingrained into him since birth. He also may have been caught wearing them in the Imperial Palace before, and a few paparazzi photos later, it attracted the unwanted attention of admirers who thought he looked "cute" (not precisely the image he's trying to uphold while plotting to overthrow a kingdom and fuck over gods).

[braveclementine]

Damon x reader pt. 2

Warnings: technical torture, death

Copyright: I do not own any TVD/TO/Legacies characters, nor any places in New Orleans or Mystic Falls that may be mentioned.

I headed through the library, staring around in awe. I loved reading, it was one of my favorite pastimes and the Salvatore library and the Mikelson libraries were often frequented by my presence. Both the Mikelson compounds in Mystic Falls and New Orleans. Marcel and Alaric both also had good collections of books. Along with the founding families of Mystic Falls.

"This is. . ." I was spinning in circles, taking in every aisle of books I could see. The room extended in both directions farther than I could see and was filled with people. Except, because of the size, it seemed almost empty.

The ceiling was low, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling with bright lighting. The floor was made of polished oak wood which complimented the Spruce bookshelves.

The books were organized by genre, signs nailed onto the ends of each bookcase stating the genre of the section. The rows seemed to go back rather far, sometimes even turning corners and becoming a maze of books for genres.

With Damon's help, the mystical creatures section was found and it was also found that all of the people were in this section, or at the tables in the middle of the library studying.

Damon and I gathered up several different books of various topics before we decided to move somewhere more private.

Roaming the library, I found that there was a set of double doors at the end of the right side of the room. But when I tried to open them, I found they were locked. However, I could hear the quiet murmurs of people talking behind the doors, accompanied by the occasional laugh.

"Come on, let's find someplace to settle down." Damon mentioned, his arms laden with eight books. I hurried behind him as fast as my legs could carry me, burdened with at least five books.

We found a private, quiet corner not far from the strange double doors in the Ancient Roman section. It was in a maze like corner and completely secluded.

We sat down next to each other. I fold my legs underneath me while he stretched his legs out so his feet were pressed up against the opposite bookcase. He lounged lazily with his book while I studied my studiously, my head bent over the open book in my lap.

The book I was reading was strangely familiar in characteristics, almost identical to what I had learned about Vampires, Werewolves, and Witches in my time with the Originals and the Salvatore's.

It mentioned vervain and wooden stakes. It mentioned full moons and curses. It even mentioned daylight rings and magical devices that could stake out vampires. It made me nervous reading it and I nudged Damon.

"Dae?"

He quickly spun his head. I only called him that when I was truly scared. I hadn't meant to call him that because it didn't seem like a really bad thing, but it had slipped.

"What's wrong Y/N?"

I showed him the book. "Look how descriptive this is. There's no way that the person who wrote this wasn't either a vampire, werewolf, or witch, or knew of them!"

"But what's so scary about that?" Damon asked. "If humans don't believe in this stuff, it would be smart for a vampire, werewolf, or witch to write a book on it. They'd make a lot of money. Heck, I could write about the adventures that we've been on and it would be put down as fiction!"

I breathed in deeply and smiled at him, relaxing my shoulders, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm freaking out over this."

Damon put an arm around my shoulder and I nearly stopped breathing but quickly forced my attention back to the book. I decided to move onto another book, as I knew everything that the book I was reading had to offer. It would be better if I saw the other variants of the Vampire books so that I could be prepared on the questions depending on which type they asked.

"Y/N, look at this." Damon said with a snort. I shifted my attention to the book Damon was reading, "These vampires sparkle. Like fairies."

I laughed lightly. "Twilight vampires aren't real Damon."

"Neither are real vampires." Damon teased.

Someone must be nearby.

I chuckled, "Fair enough."

I tilted my head upwards and then found that Damon's face was inches from mine.

My breath was knocked out of me at the sight of him and I felt like freaking Bella looking at Edward except. . . this was more real. More pure.

A few strands of his hair were pressed to his forehead, his mouth curved upwards into that sexy smirk. His eyes were icy blue, penetrating into my soul. He had just the faintest start of a beard, probably from not shaving this morning. I could smell his John Varvatos cologne, which was an almost woodsy smell, not overpowering enough to be overwhelming, just enough to be delightful.

And his lips, where my E/C eyes were looking. Though he was smirking, his lips were parted just slightly, his top lip was thin, but his bottom lip was full and pink and kissable. Fuck, everything about him was kissable.

His head dipped downwards and I closed my eyes. I could feel his breath on my own lips, quivering in anticipation. His arm tightened around my shoulder, almost bringing me closer. There was so much hesitation, tension, and anticipation, and then I felt him pull back.

"Y/N." He groaned, "I'm not good for you. I'm a killer, a monster, a vampire. I'm dangerous, either by myself or by bringing dangers to me. If I. . . I can't lead you on. I can't make you think that I can be with you when it's just going to endanger you anyways."

"Damon. . ." I murmured, reaching for his hand. He let me take it, tracing the lines of his palm. Every person had a W or a V traced into their hands from palm lines. The W was for Werewolf and the V was for Vampire. It didn't necessarily mean that they would turn into one or the other, as most people went about their lives without even knowing such things existed. But it was just for what would be better for someone.

I was unique. On my right palm, I had a V and on my left palm, I had a W. A hybrid. Of course, not that it meant anything. I would never actually be a hybrid as I was not a werewolf. But that was besides the point.

Before I could say anything else, one of the assistant managers came around the corner of the library and I dropped Damon's hand, resting my left hand on the open book instead, looking up.

"Ah, Y/N Y/L/N, there you are. Come on, I have the rest of the others gathering. You should come alone."

He was flanked by two guards- he never went anywhere without them- and I quickly got up, leaving the books and Damon behind. We'd talk later.

I followed Mr. Laritate from the bookshelves. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"The other side of the library." Mr. Laritate answered and I followed him to the double doors I had been checking out earlier. "I'll see you soon."

I stepped through the doors and they slammed closed behind me.

I sighed, moving away from the doors.

This room was smaller, though it was still a library. However, unlike the other library, there was nothing extravagant or polished about this library.

There were cheap wooden chairs and tables scattered throughout the room in different shapes of square, rectangular, circular, and even a few that were triangular.

The bookshelves were rather cheap looking, some of the shelves crooked like they hadn't been fitted in properly. The floor was made of stone. There wasn't even a rug thrown over it.

This room seemed more crowded than the other, probably because of the smaller size of it- both sides of the room were rather close- and because there seemed to be quite a few people here.

I walked up to one of the bookcases to pull off a book and found that I couldn't. I frowned and got a better look at the bookshelves.

The books were fake. They were just painted wood- not even painted well up close- and glued to the cheap shelves. What in the world?

Was this an escape room kind of game? That didn't make sense at all and a strange fear lit up in side of me.

I took another look around the room, this time focused on the people, willing myself to recognize someone.

They all seemed rather buddy buddy with each other and it wasn't until I finally saw a few familiar faces- not necessarily friendly as I had beaten them last round- that I realized who these people were.

They were the losers of the past rounds.

But. . . they were dropped off at the islands and the planes shipped them home. . .

Well apparently not.

I also noticed that the large, heavy wooden doors were the only escape route. There wasn't a single window or door in the entire library. Not even a skylight or a trapdoor.

As the time continued to pass, my anxiety grew. The others didn't seem to mind, chatting easily with the others, either standing, sitting on the edges of tables, sitting on the floor by the bookcases, or lounging lazily in the wooden chairs.

"Do you know what's supposed to be going on?" I muttered to one young man- who I had no idea who he was.

He shrugged, "We were in the losers chambers for a few days. Now we're here. I figure it's a sort of redemption game."

Was it? If it was- why was I here then?

That was when the loud noise started.

It was horrendous, making everyone in the room drop to their knees, covering their ears with their hands.

I was one of them, squatting down, my elbows resting beside my thighs as I squeezed my hands tightly over my ears.

"DAMON!" I shouted as loudly as I dared, wondering if he could hear any of this or if he was covering his ears too.

The loud noise stopped and I looked up along with everyone else.

Protruding from the ceiling were large, funnel like structures. I started to edge my way towards the wooden doors. "Damon, I need you. I'm scared, please Dae." I begged under my breath, knowing he'd be able to hear me.

That was when it started to rain.

At first, everyone looked around puzzled as the rain splashed onto the stone floor, the clothes, the hair, and the furniture. And then the screaming started.

It was acid rain.

Everyone was trying to work together, pushing tables together so that they could all dive underneath, crawling into each others laps as everyone pushed for the middle.

Meanwhile, I ran for the door. I screamed in pain as the drops hit my skin, pulling a bobby pin from my hair because I knew the door would be locked.

"DAMON!" I screamed. I wasn't the only one screaming for people. Others were screaming for loved ones, for friends, for mothers, for fathers, for some ridiculous names that I was sure were meant for pets. "DAMON PLEASE!"

I wasn't very good at picking locks, especially with a fucking bobby pin. I stuck it into the lock, jiggling it around frantically as acid rain dropped down my cheeks, sizzing my hair, and burning my clothes away.

I was a mess and I knew it. I shrieked, falling to my knees as one of the rain drops fell into my eyes. I screamed in pain, squeezing my eyes shut, jiggling the bobby pin frantically, more and more. The lock was starting to melt and finally, finally, I slammed my shoulder against the door and the doors cracked open.

Everyone started to stream from the room, carrying chairs and tables over their heads, screaming for the others to get off the yacht.

The people who had been studying for the test looked up, trying to figure out what was going on.

I ignored everyone, stumbling back to where I had left Damon. I prayed he wasn't there because if he was, he had either ignored me, hadn't heard me, or he was hurt.

Unfortunately, it was the latter. His wrists were tied to the bookcases with vervain, a stake plunged into his stomach.

"Y/N." He replied weakly.

I yanked the stake out of his stomach, hissing as the burned hands came in contact with the wood. Crying in pain, which just cause more pain because of my burned cheeks and eye, I undid the vervain ropes before collapsing in pain and tears.

"Y/N? Y/N?" Damon asked frantically, his healing process slower than normal from the vervain. "What happened? Y/N! Speak to me!"

"Acid rain." I coughed out. "Please Damon."

Damon bit into his wrist roughly, practically forcing his blood down my throat.

I sucked at it eagerly, not necessarily because I relished the taste, but because of the relief it brought. The pain from my eye faded, the bloody wounds fading from my legs, arms, and face. My hair stopped smelling like it was burning and the hair follicles healed.

As I tried catching my breath from all the horror, Damon's hand found a place on the back of my head, smashing his lips to mine feverishly.

It was better than I had thought it would be. His lips were soft, yet firm and hard against my own which simply melted against his force. I could taste blood, smoke, bourbon, and something sweet- maybe from the pancakes.

His hand gripped my hair hard, forcing me against him- not that I minded. His other hand snaked around my waist, pressing me into him. I felt my terror and fear slipping away and I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing back with full force.

I pulled away from air, our foreheads resting together as I breathed in deeply. "I thought you said you weren't going to play with my feelings."

"I couldn't stop myself. Hearing you scream for me and I was unable to get there. Knowing that you could've died and I would've been stuck here, tied down with fucking vervain and a bloody piece of wood. I've never been scared like that before. I love you Y/N. I love you so fucking much and it's not fair to you."

"Don't stay away from me anymore." I murmured. "I don't care. I love you Damon."

"I know. But we have to talk about this later. I'm getting you out of here now."

We got to our feet and Damon wrapped an arm around my waist, leading me through the bookcases quickly until we got out of the maze, heading for the door.

The library was a mess now, chairs overturned, books flung everywhere. It was still raining in the acid room and I wondered if anyone was dead in there.

"Damon. . . what if we could help someone in there?" I asked as he pulled me towards the exit to the library.

"If it means I'm putting you in danger, I can't." Damon replied forcefully. "I won't."

I felt my heart wrench, "Please Damon."

Damon hesitated, looking between the exit and the acid doors.

I was in his arms within seconds and he zoomed back to the acid doors, looking inside. There were a few bodies laying on the ground, unmoving and the blood leaking out of them suggested that they were completely dead. Anyone alive- even injured- had escaped.

I let out a sob and Damon hugged me to his chest. "Let's go Y/N. Come on."

He sprinted to the door, opening it up, and coming short, pushing me behind him as he came face to face with Mr. Laritate and his two guards. It only now hit me that his guards had stayed behind when he'd walked me to the acid room.

Damon bared his teeth.

"Ah, I see you two are up and kicking." Mr. Laritate said with a bit of a smile. "And completely healed Y/N Y/L/N, what a pleasant, but unsurprising outcome."

"You knew?" I whisper asked, clutching the back of Damon's shirt. I didn't want him to get hurt. "The game show was just a hoax?"

"Not for those who are lower on the totem pole. The workers on the boat and other staff. But me and the creators of the games are really looking for someone- or rather- something else. Vampires to be most specific."

I clutched the back of Damon's shirt harder.

"So letters are sent out all the time to cities like New Orleans and other cities that might have supernatural population. We usually get quite a few Vampires from New Orleans, and we've even got a witch working with us. But Mystic Falls was mentioned and so we sent a few letters out, looking for the right house. And now you two are here. Two very fine vampires."

"You're wrong." Damon growled, a protective arm thrown in front of me. "I'm the only Vampire here."

Mr. Laritate tilted his head to the side, his bald head shining in the fluorescent lights, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. "Well. . . not for long."

I felt hands catch around my throat and I let out a choked gasp. Damon spun, fearful eyes meeting mine as there was a pain in my neck, a cracking sound, and everything went black.

⬅️➡️

[starlightsearches]

Congratulations on your huge milestone!!! 🥳

I have to go with Track 5: Landslide - I love me some Fleetwood Mac and I also love me some angst.

Can I request it be for Steve Harrington? And no prompt - take the reigns 🥰

-@superblysubpar

Stay the Night

Track 5: Landslide by Fleetwood Mac - Give me a character and an angst prompt (or give me free rein) and I'll write a short blurb or headcanons about it.

thanks for the request and the congratulations, bestie! i hope you enjoy 🥰

Fuckboy! Steve x Fem! Reader

Warnings: angst, discussions of a sexual relationship but no actual sex, mentions of drinking, no happy ending, mentions of potential sexual assault + just generally creepy behavior towards the reader, language, and I think that's it! Let me know what you think my loves uwu

There are rules when you're fucking Steve Harrington.

You can't acknowledge him at school. No words or waves or even longing looks if people are around. He gets all sulky, though, if you're not paying attention to him when he joins you somewhere private—like the back tables in the library where nobody goes.

He'll pout at you with big eyes, stroke his fingers up the inside of your thigh when you're trying to study and then he'll smile like you're his favorite person in the world. Saying shit like we won't get caught, sweetheart, promise, or need you so bad, please, just this once.

That always ends the same way.

You can go to his house when his parents are gone, but he'll never go to yours. Steve will fuck you in the back of his car any night you can manage to sneak out, but he'll only wait twenty minutes at the most.

He gets quiet if you mention any of the girls you see him with. He gets loud if he thinks other guys might be looking at you.

Steve likes it when you pull on his hair when he's between your legs, when you say no the first few times he tries something, when you cry while he's fucking into you with those long, slow strokes.

He doesn't want you to leave marks on him. He doesn't want you to cover up the marks he leaves on you.

Steve won’t let you stay the night, but you can't leave right away. You gotta let him nuzzle into your neck and kiss at your skin with his soft pink pout and he doesn't want to know about it if you feel like crying.

And, most important of all, Steve does not want anybody to think you might be together.

You feel stupid, walking up the car-lined street with your book bag slung over your shoulder. The party's just up the road, loud enough you can hear the music and the sounds of laughter from where you parked a couple blocks away.

Steve's house is lit from every window when you catch a glimpse through the trees, people poured across the lawn, blissful and unaware, just happy to be young and beautiful and drunk.

It's so obvious you shouldn't be here. That you don't belong here. But Steve called, and you answered. And you're too stupid to stay away.

The inside of the house is ripe with the smell of beer, sweaty condensation rolling down the windows. There's more bodies inside, packed tight in all the spaces you're used to seeing empty. Nobody looks in your direction. They don't even feel it when you try to push past.

Steve's not in the living room, or the kitchen, or the yard. He's not half naked in the pool or doing keg stands surrounded by a chanting crowd or making out with anybody in the far corners of the room.

You push up against a wall, trying to keep anybody from noticing you, chewing at your lip. Maybe you should leave. You take a step in that direction, but the way is blocked. You're left face to chest with an ugly striped polo.

Fuck.

"Didn't think I'd see you here, sweetheart. Who sent you the invite?"

Tommy H. has a smile that always makes you sick to your stomach. The way his eyes rake over you—like he's hungry and torturing you is the only thing that can satisfy—the little raise of his brows every time he makes you go quiet.

He steps closer, caging you in with a casual arm as he tilts his head to the side, considering the easiest way to swallow you whole.

"I'm looking for Steve—"

Your back thumps against the wall, and you remember that Tommy doesn't know how many times Steve has promised to beat the shit out of his best friend for looking at you, for cat-calling down the hallways, for all those shitty remarks he's scrawled on the bathroom walls with your name attached.

Those were just words. A stage promise, a kind of roleplay Steve slipped into you any time he wanted to repay you for swallowing his cum.

"—Harrington," you finish, in a weak attempt to save yourself, "this is his house, right?"

Tommy cocks a brow, but he nods.

"I have his homework. The paper for Mrs. Click's class."

You pat your bag, even though there's no paper in there. Steve came up with the excuse the second or third time he yanked you into the girl's bathroom after the bell rang for first period. Just in case anybody saw. This is the only time you've had to use it.

Tommy rakes his tongue over his chapped bottom lip, and your nails bite into your palms. You've got to count to keep your breath steady, to keep your vision from going white at the edges with fear of what he might do next—push you against the wall or laugh at you or drag you with a hand over your mouth somewhere nobody would hear you scream.

But he just steps back, stretching out his shoulders. He must be bored of you. For now.

"Harrington's upstairs. You might wanna knock first, before opening any doors, though."

Tommy let's you slide past, leaving just enough room you've got to brush up against him. You're at the base of the stairs when he calls out, loud enough you can hear him over the music.

"Maybe I'll join you later," Tommy says, and he waits until you look back at him to jack off an imaginary dick, just to emphasize his point.

You run the rest of the way. No looking back.

It's quiet on your side of Steve's door, the sounds of the party a thousand miles away from where you stand, letting your fingers just rest on the handle. Thinking about what Tommy said.

Whatever. If Steve had a girl in there with him, then maybe you could go home. Maybe you'd finally have a reason to be so angry with him all the time.

You push your way inside, into the darkness that your eyes don't adjust to right away. Steve's bed ripples, the covers peeling back from the head of his bed. His smile gleams in the dim slats of light from the window.

"Baby," he coos loudly, holding onto that e sound at the end until he's almost shouting.

He only calls you baby when he's drunk. You shut the door behind you quick enough there's no chance the partiers downstairs could've heard it.

There's nobody else in Steve's bed. No other girls—besides you—when you join him on the mattress, brushing a few hairs from his forehead until you can actually see his eyes, big and brown and looking up at you like you're golden.

He pushes his head into your hand, cat-like, begging to be petted, sneaking an arm around your waist. And the Steve you're used to is already pushy, but it's even worse when he's wasted. You literally have no choice but to do what he wants, yanking you down until you're laying beside him, nose to nose, sharing the same pillow.

"Everybody's being so loud," Steve mumbles, wearing a deep frown, "I just wanted to sleep."

"Not in a party mood?" you ask with a laugh that comes out just a little sad.

Steve sighs, flopping onto his back and dragging you with him. "Tommy's idea. Wish they'd all go home."

Fuck, he's cute—and his body is so warm against yours, holding you like it's what his arms were made for.

You shut your eyes tight and try not to think about a time before you realized he didn't want you the way you wanted him to, when you thought you could be with him like this whenever.

But this isn't the real Steve.

He's not going to walk down the halls with his hand in your back pocket. Or look for you in the stands at his basketball games. He won't take you to the movies just to make out with you in the back row, won't smile like he's showing off when people see you together. You won't have prom pictures with Steve that you look at years from now. You won't have anything to look back on that'll make you smile.

You swallow down the pit in your stomach, wiggling in his grasp.

"I should go."

Steve just grips at you tighter. "No, baby. Stay."

"It's late, Steve. I've gotta go home."

He hums his dissent, rolls over until he's squishing you into the mattress. His big eyes are wet and shiny when they meet yours.

"Just tonight, okay? Don't— don't wanna be alone."

Fuck. You'd end up in your grave before you learned how to say no to Steve Harrington.

He knows it, too—you know he does—because without you saying a word, Steve rolls off you, and you don't try to leave.

"You're too good for me," he whispers, fingers twining in yours, "did you know that?"

There's tears wetting the pillow you rest your head on. Steve's room is getting blurry.

"Yeah, Steve. I know."

He doesn't say another word, and you don't want him to. Laying on his bed like a corpse beside him, listening to the way his breathing grows slower, calmer. The grip of Steve's fingers loosens, and when you pull your hand from his and all he gives you is a grunt, you know he's asleep.

You slip out of the door before he has the chance to wake up. You hope it'll be the last time.