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theprioryorange · 2 months ago

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team bonding | a jackieshauna x fem!reader series (part one)

pairing(s): jackieshauna x fem!reader

summary: in which jackie and shauna have been at each other’s throats for weeks now, bickering over the most insignificant things. one night after they have a ‘private talk’, they approach you with a confession & an idea which can help them bond and mend their friendship. (or! jackieshauna have a threesome with the reader to solve their issues because they both have been crushing on you for a while...)

tags ⎯⎯ ✦ best friends to lovers, threesome, rivals to lovers, smut, fluff, hints of angst, power bottom!jackie taylor, dom!jackie taylor, power bottom!shauna shipman, dom!shauna shipman, service top!reader, sub!reader, teasing, slight bullying, powerplay, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, degradation, praise, petnames, light bondage, slight voyeurism, edging 𝝑𓏲

warnings!: nsfw, graphic smut, explicit language, 18+ (minors pls don't interact!)

word count: 11.9k+

a/n: this is my first ever time posting any of my yellowjackets fics of mine on here so i hope you all enjoy, i’m also going to be posting this to ao3, my username is jurinsanna if you guys ever read stuff on there :) w/ this fic although it's fem!reader i have tried to make it as inclusive as possible, there's no like super descriptive parts about the reader (their body type, skin colour etc.) so i hope nobody feels excluded

oh also the reader has glasses lol

It had been four weeks in the wilderness and Shauna was seriously pissing you off.

“I can’t believe we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere and you’re still concerned about being better than me”, you groaned as you fed the fire more wood.

She looked at you and failed to see how you shifted under her gaze. “We’re gonna be rescued soon, asshat. I want to just keep up with my studies.” You tried not to laugh at how utterly ridiculous that entire sentence was; only a girl like her would be worried about her grades in a literal life-or-death situation.

Shauna’s most-likely snappy rebuttal was cut off as you both heard an impatient voice cough behind you. Jackie Taylor stood with all the confidence you expected of a popular high school soccer captain. She looked pissed off too. You fought the urge to roll your eyes but also bit back a little smile, it was always so funny when she was annoyed. She had been very annoyed recently, it seemed her and Shauna were arguing 24/7 about nothing and everything. Like fire and ice. They hadn’t seemingly meshed well in the past few days, it looked to be more than the fact the tensions were high and stress amongst the team was seemingly contagious.

“What are you two doing?” Jackie asked, eyes flittering between you like she was looking for something that wasn’t there.

“Sitting by the fire, what else would we be doing?” Shauna replied for the both of you, the fire hitting her eyes, giving the brown irises specks of gold that make you try to reign in the pull of desire you felt in your chest. Your classmate’s big brown eyes had been a weakness of yours ever since you had first met.

“I don’t know”, the confidence that seemed to be held in your captain dissipated in seconds. Jackie’s shoulders deflated and she uncrossed her arms like a child scolded. It seemed like only Shauna could do that, and maybe you, but there hadn’t really been a chance for you to confirm that yet.

Captain Taylor was petty and bitter for a reason you couldn’t work out, you and Shauna could tell she wanted to say something else but couldn’t think of anything (much to her own embarrassment). You filled in the silence that was beginning to teeter on awkward: “Umm, well, do you want to sit with us?”, coughing awkwardly, you tried to avoid Shauna’s irritated glare.

“Okay”, the standing girl said with a voice that suggested she was pleased as punch, sitting directly next to you on the other side.

Sitting directly in between Shauna and Jackie was certainly interesting, the contrast between them always made you giggle, and shiver. Shauna sat with her legs apart, manspreading, her jeans splattered with mud and the blood of an animal you could not remember, her nails were short and blunt. They were painted as black as the abyss. Jackie’s manicured nails looked odd in comparison, and in general too, since you had been in the wilderness for around a month now. Her legs were crossed, and the shorts showed off the scrapes and bruises that littered her calves (her very perfect calves). Gulping, you looked ahead and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“What?” Shauna asked you directly, fixing you with a suspicious glare, sometimes you wondered if she knew about the way you felt for her and her best friend. You tried to brush the thought aside, she was probably just being broody as usual.

“What?” You threw back, panic rising in your throat, “why are you looking at me like that?”

She doesn’t answer and lets up her gaze, instead staring into the fire once again, you try to push down the taste of disappointment. You had really wanted an answer to that question, every time the brunette looked you in the eyes it produced a feeling inside your chest that was akin to melting. The feeling of disappointment however was short-lived as soon you felt a weight on your other shoulder, the side that Jackie was sitting next to you; her head resting on your shoulder comfortably. Oh, Jesus Christ, you flushed bright red, sending a silent prayer to whatever God was listening that neither of them would notice how flustered you were from such a simple, friendly gesture.

It turned out either God didn’t exist, or if He did, that He was not listening, as when you gained enough courage to turn back to Shauna, her eyes met your own. You looked away quickly but didn’t miss the flash of something jealous that passed across her face. It at first made sense to you, really, she and Jackie were such close friends, or used to be, she was probably just jealous that you two were closer now. You and Jackie were childhood best friends after all.

Shauna currently hated the other girl though, so that jealousy was curiously placed. Or… you were just misinterpreting it.

“Dude, I’m so serious if we don’t get out of here soon, I’m gonna go insane”, Jackie’s voice penetrated the silence. She sounded stressed, a plausible reason why she was practically laying on you.

“We’re going to be fine, ok?”, you didn’t fully believe the words yourself but said them anyways as you gazed at her with concern swimming in your eyes, wanting to comfort your captain more than anything else. Shauna made a noise of amusement beside you, causing you to turn to her with a glare, it always seemed like they were unknowingly battling for your attention. Or at least you constantly struggled to decide who to give it to.

“What’s so funny?”, Jackie asked her best friend, voice laced with disgruntlement.

“I’m just thinking about how when we get back, I’m gonna kick Y/N’s ass on the midterm”, Shauna’s voice was light, and you could tell she was a) not intending to hurt your feelings and b) genuinely excited to compete against you again academically. It made you nostalgic somewhat, remembering all those times you compared test scores when you were little.

“You’re so not”, your reply came quickly and made the other laugh.

“I remember when we quizzed each other on enzymes, you barely got four out of ten”, Shauna was quick to remind you, making you flush. It wasn’t what she had said that had made you redden (seriously, you didn’t care all that much for biology right in that moment… at least not the stuff they taught on the Wiskayok curriculum), it was her tone. All playful and almost sultry.

Beside you two, Jackie groaned; “God, you two are such nerds.” She had never been interested in school as much as Shauna and you were – which was funny considering she did actually maintain straight As.

You and the other girl both turned towards your captain with matching twin glares, “We’re really not”, you protested.

She reached a hand up and playfully wiggled your glasses, “These tell me otherwise”, you heard Shauna snort behind you and tried not to flush. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Shipman, you’re even worse”, Jackie laughed, carefully taking them off of you, you were about to protest, your vision already going a little blurry, but she soon was leaning over you. The dark blonde was pressed flush against you as she placed your glasses on Shauna, pushing them up the bridge of the brunette’s nose as she protested.

You tried not to squeal like a loser as you looked at Shauna, Jesus, the glasses were really cute on her.

“Looking good, Shipman”, Jackie teased. The taller girl huffed and took them off, handing them back to you with an apologetic glance. “Aww come on”, the popular girl protested. Jackie turned to you, a small smirk making its way gradually across her lips. “Don’t you think she looks good with your glasses, Y/N?”.

The question made you nearly faint, why was she asking that? It was clear Jackie knew what she was doing, from the way she was glancing at the two of you.

“Umm”, you hesitated, putting your glasses back on, of course you thought Shauna looked gorgeous no matter what, but it was embarrassing having to compliment someone so close to you. Especially when you had a massive crush on them and the person currently teasing you both. You turned to look at Shauna, instantly wishing you hadn’t, her big brown eyes held so much expectancy, she looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well? Did I look okay with them on?”, she asked you.

The way she was looking at you made you want to cry. “Yeah, they look nice on you”, your reply was quiet and nervous.

A small smile appeared on her face; you couldn’t see her teeth, but you could tell it was genuine. You couldn’t, however, tell that she was blushing. Jackie could though, ever so perceptive when it came to her best friend (and you, it seemed). “Aww, Shipman’s blushing”, Jackie teased, she was still half leaning on you and didn’t appear to want to move anytime soon.

“I’m not blushing”, Shauna’s response was blunt but there was a hint of shaky embarrassment in her tone.

“Sure”, Jackie drawled, not seeming to believe her. You didn’t know what to believe, mind too occupied with trying to figure out why Shauna cared so much about your opinion.

Soon they were both looking at you again, their gazes making you feel warm all the way down to your toes. Shauna took a moment to look at Jackie, before standing up, “I need to go help Taissa chop some wood, when it gets darker it’ll be too cold to do it”, her words made the feeling of desperation buzz in your chest. You didn’t want her to go, you wanted to stay there forever in between them on the cut-down tree trunk, saying nothing and doing nothing but listening to each other breathe.

“Duty calls”, you replied a little curtly, fighting the urge to lean into Jackie and fall asleep, she was so warm, and you were so cold.

Jackie stayed silent and Shauna made a move to leave, but not before pausing a moment to shoot a request to her best friend: “Could you meet me by the back of the cabin in like an hour? I need to talk to you about something.” The words made you nervous, even though they weren’t directed towards you, but Jackie didn’t seem to mind, instead giving her a thumbs up of approval before letting her arm drop again and wrap around your waist. After a moment she grabbed your arm and put it over her shoulder, your arm resting against her chest.

You and Jackie sat there for a while, your head leaned against hers, you could feel her heartbeat against the back of your arm, and it made you so tired you began to drift off. When you woke there was no one there but you, somehow the other had left without waking you up and had laid you down carefully on the log, leaving quickly, but not before laying a blanket over you.

The night air was cool, the fire had burnt out hours ago, and the hairs on your arms stood up as you wrapped the blanket tighter around you, standing to go inside. You could hear the other girls chatter inside and felt rather like you were about to go inside your home, it was odd how comfortable you all had gotten in that cabin. You wondered if in other circumstances the same sort of thing would have happened, the closeness. The door was opened slowly as you shivered on the porch, the girls went quiet at the site of you.

“Hey”, Lottie spoke first, “you okay?”.

She looked concerned and you swallowed the feeling of affection that rose in your throat. These people were teammates, friends, fellow survivors, but they weren’t your family, you couldn’t think of them as such. The softness Van and Nat were looking at you with told a different story. “Uh, yeah, just fell asleep out there”, you said quietly.

Tai shot you a strained smile, “You want some food?”, she offered you an unremarkable selection of food: deer and berries. Your stomach made a sound as if it could see the food as well as your eyes could, Tai laughed a little, her smile real this time as she watched you grab a handful of berries.

Eating them quickly, you glanced around the room, “Where’s Jackie and Shauna?”, you asked.

Their places were empty and the girls around you shrugged, all except Misty, she regarded you with wandering eyes as she spoke; “They’re outside the back of the cabin, said they needed to talk privately.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; they had been there all this time? Surely you had been asleep for at least two hours, what “private conversation” took more than an hour?

“I’m gonna go look for them”, you said, leaving no room for argument, walking past the girls and through the cabin till you were outside, this time leaving through the back entrance.

It was so dark you had to squint to see, even with your glasses on. Everything seemed still, all that could be seen was the lining of the forest. Trees for miles. You began to grow worried, searching with a little more fervour for the two girls as you realized it was way too cold and way too dark for them to be out here alone. Still not seeing much, you went round to the side of the cabin, near an area of forest, your ears were suddenly greeted with an assortment of sounds: rustling, heavy breathing, moans?

“Hello?”, you called out, thoroughly flustered.

The sounds stopped, before being replaced with muttered curses and panicked shuffling. “Shit, uh- hey”, Jackie appeared from behind a tree and approached you slowly, as if you were a feral cat and would run off with any sudden movement. She looked positively debauched, her hair was messed up and her t-shirt was scrunched halfway up her stomach. You could see a litter of badly hidden marks across her neck and chest. Questions were about to tumble out of your mouth, but you both were interrupted by Shauna coming out of the same private spot. She approached you two slowly, looking as roughed up as the other girl, her mouth was swollen and she was holding her flannel as if she had taken it off, she put it back on quickly, to you and Jackie’s shared secret delight.

“What are you guys doing out here?”, the question sounded shaky leaving your mouth and you thought you already knew the answer, but that answer seemed almost impossible, maybe even too good to be true - not that you’d admit to yourself that you’d think of it as that. It didn’t make sense, Jackie Taylor was the straightest girl you had ever met, and the most sexual interest you had ever seen Shauna show was towards her scientific calculator during the last physics test you had taken.

Not to mention the fact for the past week they had been arguing 24/7 and had been at each other’s throats since even before the crash. By the marks on Jackie’s neck though, you could guess this time they had taken the phrase quite literally.

“Oh, just uh, talking through some stuff. Working out issues, you know?”, Shauna sounded nervous, and it made you even more suspicious. But you probably had just read the situation wrong, right? You were cold and still slightly tired, the dark could have easily pulled tricks on you, especially with your poor eyesight.

“Right, um, yeah”, you replied, “you guys should probably come inside.” They nodded quickly and followed you round the side to the front of the cabin.

“But um, could we talk to you upstairs privately? Once we get inside?”, Jackie spoke from behind you as you approached the porch. You were flooded with apprehension and a twinge of excitement and pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Okay”.

The journey from the porch to the attic upstairs was eerily quiet, Shauna and Jackie seemed to be communicating in shared secret glances which made you feel twitchy and hot. What were they going to speak to you about? Did they not want to be friends anymore? The thought made your stomach turn. In just a few moments all three of you were standing in the cabin’s attic, the inside was a little warmer, so you dropped the blanket onto the floor where Shauna’s makeshift bed was. It looked oddly cozy.

Jackie spoke first, “So um, we wanted to talk to you about something, something we’ve uh… noticed.” Shauna nodded at her words, and they stepped a little closer to you, and each other.

You nodded, trying to keep calm, what the fuck was she talking about? “You know it’s, like, normal to have crushes on girls, right?”, she asked. The question was more rhetorical than literal, and it made your brain short circuit for a brief moment.

Your eyes widened. “What?”, the words were out before you could stop them. Shauna exchanged a glance with her best friend before elaborating.

“We’ve noticed you’ve been like, looking at us. I don’t know, I only noticed a few weeks ago when Jackie pointed it out to me, she said that you always stared at me. And then like, thinking about it, I realised you also always stare at her. You never really, like, show interest in boys or anything like that, so that’s the conclusion we’ve come to… and to be honest it’s the only one we can think of that makes sense.”

Jackie nodded with each word she spoke, seemingly comfortable with the idea that you had a crush on both her and Shauna or at least were somewhat attracted to them.

“We’re not mad or anything”, the light-haired girl rushed to clarify, anxious that you’d bolt off downstairs.

“Oh” was the only word that could come out of your mouth.

Shauna laughed a little, “I think we’ve broken her”.

Jackie laughed at that, before stepping a little closer to you with a teasing grin, “…We’re right though, about you liking us, aren’t we?”.

“W-what, I-I”, you stuttered before giving up on trying to talk to deny it, you moved for the door but were stopped by two hands on your chest as your captain stood between you and the door, blocking your attempts to flee.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, baby” Jackie pushed you roughly, laughing as you collided with Shauna, your back pushed against the brunette’s front as she held you in place.

“What?”, you were breathless, head turning to meet Shauna’s gaze - she looked almost ravenous. Turning back to Jackie, you realised she had a similar expression, one not too dissimilar from the one a wolf wore looking at its prey.

“You heard what she said” Shauna spoke from behind you, arms stilling your attempts to break free of her grasp. You didn’t really want to get away from her though, in fact, you wanted to sink into her arms as you felt Jackie’s soft wet mouth explore every yet undiscovered part of you. But appearances had to be kept up, it was a lot to take in all at once. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for you, they both saw right through you.

The girl in front of you laughed, “You know what me and Shipman mean, be a good girl and listen carefully now.” Jackie reached a hand out to trail drown your front, fingertips raising goosebumps down the soft flesh of your arms.

“Jackie and I, well, we’ve had some disagreements recently”, Shauna started to explain, but the cogs in her brain seemed to be whirring all too fast and she gazed at her captain slash best friend a little pleadingly, waiting for her to continue. Jackie seemed to notice her hesitancy and grinned, she moved closer towards you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. She spoke then with a confidence Shauna currently did not have, or appeared to have anyway.

“I remember Coach saying one time that the best way two players could bond and fix whatever little problems they’d been having was by… actually, we want you to try and guess.” It was getting clearer by the moment that they were not going to make this easy for you.

You cleared your throat and tried to think back to what he had said, your mind came up blank, only thinking of the heat that Shauna’s front was producing by being pressed flush up against your back. You could feel how hard her nipples were through her bra. “I-I, uh, I don’t know”, your reply made them both laugh, Jackie smiled a little softer then, her eyes wandering to the girl behind you. You turned to follow her gaze, eyes meeting Shauna, the brunette leaned in to whisper in your ear, you could feel the warmth of her mouth near your neck and fought the urge to whimper. All composure was lost at the next word she spoke.

“Sharing”.

They let out twin sighs of desire as you made what seemed to be the most embarrassing and desperate noise of your life. “I think she likes that idea”, Jackie teased, running her fingers up to the hem of your t-shirt, they hovered there for a second before she grabbed hold of it, slightly tugging it up, exposing the skin of your lower stomach.

“Of course she does, she likes us”, Shauna grinned, her confidence seemingly growing by the second.

“Can I take this off?”, you were asked by Jackie, who was pressing her face into your neck. “It’s okay if you want to keep it on”. To them your comfort was more important than the amount of fun they got from watching you squirm, a small reminder that they had been your closest friends before anything else. They truly did care – a fact that made you comfortable enough to agree to their request.

You nodded. Neither of them seemed satisfied with your response though, so Shauna urged you further.

“Use your words, love”.

“Yes”.

“Good” Shauna hummed, moving back a little as Jackie pulled your t-shirt up and over your head. You could hear as their breaths hitched at the sight of you, you stood there a little nervous in only a black bra. “Wow” the girl stood before you spoke, always the first to give her opinion, “you’re beautiful”, she murmured.

“Jackie’s right, you’re gorgeous”, Shauna said, sounding almost out of breath - the brunette smiled a little and her eyes trailed down to the small of your back. As they took in your body you fought the urge to cross your arms across your chest, not because they were making you uncomfortable, but because you weren’t the most confident of people. Some people at Wiskayok had given you shit for your looks before, before joining the soccer team you had been pretty chubby, and none of the varying physical changes you had went through during your life had made a difference to the way you felt about yourself.

Jackie noticed your sheer nervousness, there was a glint of remorse and recognition in her dark eyes. “You don’t have to hide from us, ok? We love what we see, don’t we Shauna?”. Despite her shitty judgemental parents, and all the popular girl stereotypes Jackie fit, being cruel wasn’t one of them. Throughout your time being classmates and close friends with her she had always been in your corner. Right then was no different.

The same case applied to Shauna. The young woman in question nodded, moving forward so she could be pressed against you again. “Jackie and I are so excited to share you, just for us hmm?”, the brunette was as close as she was before as her lips ghosted the side of your neck.

This time, Jackie moved closer as well, running a hand down your trembling body as she leaned in close to your face.

“Can I kiss you?”, she asked, her voice was sweet, but her facial expression told a different story; it looked like she wanted to eat you alive. You’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t let her. You would let Jackie Taylor and her very stubborn best friend do anything they wanted to you.

“Yeah”, it seemed right then you couldn’t give more than one-word answers, your voice trembled as she leaned in and kissed you sweetly, she tasted faintly like cherries. It was probably the lip gloss she still had some of, despite the fact you three had been in the wilderness for nearly a month.

Both of you heard the strange, desperate sound Shauna had made at the sight of you two kissing. Jackie laughed and turned to her best friend, “Do you like watching us? Being watched? I bet you wish she saw us outside earlier, don’t you?”, she asked Shauna as you turned to the brunette who was flushing profusely.

Your stomach was still buzzing from the kiss with your captain as you looked at the midfielder. “Yeah, I do”, Shauna replied, looking mildly embarrassed at being caught out, but mainly just wanton.

“Why don’t you give Shauna a kiss now, baby? She’s ever so good at it”, the shorter girl let go of you and gestured to Shauna, who stood behind you with a hand on your waist. You didn’t need to be told twice as you turned your head and took Shauna’s mouth with your own, the kiss was every bit as heated as your one with Jackie’s was sweet.

“Shit”, you, and Shauna could hear the light-haired girl beside you let out a noise of approval as she watched you two kiss. “Slip her some tongue, Shipman”, she ordered, the words made you almost choke, as well as the fact immediately after you could feel the other girl’s tongue swiping against your bottom lip for entrance. Shauna was always good at following orders and Jackie was always good at giving them - the girl was the captain of your team for a reason. The dark-haired girl tasted like the berries she had eaten that morning, there were also hints of… cherry?

Oh. So that’s why they were in the spirit of sharing. You hadn’t been mistaken thinking what you thought when you saw them outside earlier. The thought of the two of them together out there, kissing heatedly against a tree, made your knees weak - even more so when Shauna let out a whine into your mouth.

“You two are really enjoying yourselves huh?” Jackie observed, lust-blown pupils fixated on the point where Shauna’s mouth - and, god, her tongue met yours. You half expected her to pull up a chair and put her feet up to enjoy the show, but Jackie Taylor was never one to just observe, she loved to be a little more hands-on. So, really, you shouldn’t have been surprised when she approached behind you and moved your hair out of the way, exposing the soft skin of your neck. You moaned into Shauna’s mouth as Jackie began to place hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, she grazed her teeth against your throat and could feel your pulse against her tongue. You trusted her not to bite too hard if that’s what she wanted.

“Fuck”, you groaned as you could feel Jackie bite your neck lightly. Clearly the weeks in the wilderness had awakened some strange primal urge in the both of them, but you weren’t complaining. She didn’t bite you hard enough to draw blood, and kissed the mark she’d made on your neck to sooth it. Her lips were now at your collarbone.

“So cute”, Shauna pulled away from your mouth to praise you.

“I need you both so bad”, your pleas were cut off by the brunette.

“Let’s take the rest of these clothes off, me and Jackie really don’t want anything in the way.” The dark-blonde-haired girl pulled away from your neck and tugged down your shorts, stepping out of them you noticed how fiercely they stared at your body. The idea made you simultaneously ecstatic and nervous, more so the former than the latter.

They moved you onto the makeshift bed Shauna had set up on the attic floor, it wasn’t the sort of thing out of a romance novel but the three of you really didn’t care, you all were too busy thinking about getting your mouths on each other.

“Why don’t we get out of these clothes too, Shauna?” Jackie suggested, stood above in front of you, she didn’t wait for the other girl’s response as she lifted the crop top over her head, throwing it carelessly to the floor near where your discarded clothes were. Next came her shorts, kicking them off like you had, they joined the small pile of clothes that had accumulated. Of course Jackie Taylor was wearing pink matching underwear, even when stranded in the wilderness fighting for survival, her bra had little love hearts printed on it, her panties however only had one small red heart right in the middle.

Shauna’s eyes were locked on her chest, and you fought the urge to laugh. Their desire for each other had been so obvious, even before you had nearly caught them earlier, or before they had made theirs for you clear, and you had been so oblivious to it all. The taller girl stared for a few moments longer before following suit, taking off her jeans, once she got to her flannel, both you and Jackie made noises of protest.

“Wait, wait, wait - keep that on, but take everything underneath off.”, you were relieved that Jackie was so outspoken in the bedroom, as you were thinking the exact same thing as she was. That damn red flannel would soon be the death of both of you.

“Ok”, Shauna murmured as she took off her t-shirt that was underneath and then put her flannel back on over her bra, she kept it open with the buttons undone so both you and Jackie could see her perfectly sculpted abs. Her bra was black like yours. You resisted the urge to look down, knowing if you caught a glimpse of her toned, long legs you would most likely pass out before you could get to feel them wrapped around your head.

Jackie grabbed her waist gently and pulled her close, leaning in for a kiss that was all tongue. She only pulled away for a moment to pause and muse over your lustful expression, “I think she likes watching us”.

Shauna laughed at her words before replying: “Let’s give our girl a show then”, she moved towards her best friend’s mouth with more fervour this time. You could both tell she was getting more desperate by the minute.

They were right of course, the sight of them kissing drove you fucking insane. You sat from your place on the floor and observed as they made pretty little noises into each other’s mouths, you wondered if today earlier was the first time they had kissed. Probably not. They were best friends after all. It seemed like Shauna noticed your desperation, as soon she moved out of Jackie’s arms and was kneeling in front of you, a hand trailing up your chest.

“Can I take your bra off baby?” She asked, you looked behind her to Jackie, who stood watching attentively.

“Please”, you replied, you wanted, no, needed, to feel Shauna’s mouth on your bare chest.

She unhooked the garment skilfully, leading Jackie to tease her. “Wowza, Shipman, you’re a bra pro.” Shauna rolled her eyes, flushing a dark crimson before finally removing your bra. You smiled at how flustered she got when Jackie teased her. Both of their eyes immediately went straight to your bare chest, “Holy shit”, Jackie breathed out.

Shauna hummed in agreement, a hand itching to reach out and grasp one of your breasts.

“You have like…really nice tits”, the standing girl sounded like she was going to pass out. You could relate to that feeling as Shauna gently moved her fingertips down your collarbone to the top of your right breast.

“Can I…?”, she trailed off. You nodded eagerly and soon Shauna’s warm hands were touching the most sensitive parts of your chest.

“Oh”, you breathed out as she thoroughly felt you up.

“You’re so pretty baby” Shauna’s voice was quiet as she leaned in and kissed you.

“Jesus,” Jackie said from behind the both of you, sounding the most turned-on someone could physically be. “Let me feel her now, Shauna”, her tone was barely controlled as she approached and Shauna protested a little, the noise being muffled by your mouth.

“Come on, Shipman, we’re supposed to be sharing her.” Jackie whined, and Shauna fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Fine”, she groaned as she pulled begrudgingly away from your mouth. It was flattering to watch them fight over your attention, a part of your brain was still convinced this was some elaborate joke – that all the rest of the team were about to jump out of the shadows and yell that you just got pranked. That hadn’t happened yet though, and didn’t look like it was going to anytime soon. They were serious about wanting you.

The realisation had your chest falling and rising quickly in the cold air but was soon warmed by Jackie’s breath. She sucked one of your nipples into her mouth, you gasped and tried not to moan, her muffled laughter causing vibrations through your body.

“You like Jackie’s mouth on you baby?”, Shauna asked, sounding a little breathless herself. The midfielder opened her shirt so you could see her chest, she laughed when you flushed and looked away instinctively.

Soon Jackie was kissing up your chest, up your neck, and to your mouth: “Do you want us to touch you?”, she asked as Shauna moved to kneel on the other side of you. You nodded, too nervous and starstruck to form a sentence. “Hmmm, what do you think Shipman, should we give her what she wants?”.

The other athlete furrowed her eyebrows in thought, “I think she should work for it, like when we play soccer, you don’t just go for a goal immediately do you? You pass the ball, tire the other team out… that is if we’re still using the excuse that this is just one big team exercise for soccer.” Jackie cracked a grin at that. What Shauna was saying made you shiver, it was scary but exhilarating at how utterly powerless you were under their gazes.

Of course, you technically did have power and could stop at any time you wanted, but you liked feeling like they controlled you. “How can she work for it?”, Jackie asked, a cruel gleam in her eye.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shauna turned to you then; pupils so blown with lust that her eyes looked almost black.

“I, uh, I don’t know”, your voice was unsteady, and you tried to hold back a moan as Shauna’s hands traced your breasts again.

“Aw, come on, I’m sure your slutty mind can think of something up”, Jackie laughed. Your face warmed and you shifted under Shauna’s hands, “I’m, “ - Shauna moved to pinch one of your nipples, “fuck, I’m not a slut.”

Shauna raised an eyebrow, “You’re letting your two best friends fuck you, that sounds pretty slutty to me”, her words made you squirm.

“It’s a good thing though, we like it”, Jackie added, moving to push your hair back away from your face.

“Yeah, we’ve been waiting to have you for literally forever.” Shauna’s words made you nearly choke on your own spit, how long had they been feeling that way? You imagined them sneaking glances at you in the locker room when you were all getting changed, or on the pitch when you would pour water over yourself to cool down during a drink break.

“Wait, fuck I’ve had an idea.” Jackie suddenly said, looking like a lightbulb had just gone off above her head. The amusing image was about to make you laugh until Shauna began to trace her fingertips lower down your body.

“What is it?”, you struggled to ask as Shauna’s fingers just reached the hem of your underwear, she looked up at you as if she was thoroughly pleased with herself. She was so mean, you loved it.

“You can put your mouth to good work.”

Oh.

“Shit”, Shauna laughed, “another genius idea I’m not gonna lie, I need to step up my game – poor baby looks like she’s about to pass out.” They teased you a few moments longer before Jackie began to grow impatient, needing your mouth on her.

“Is that something you want?” sure she was absolutely soaked through her underwear, but their priority right then was your comfort more than anything else. You were afraid if you opened your mouth you’d start begging, so silently (but very enthusiastically) nodded your head. Staying silent clearly didn’t save you from getting teased, as they cooed and giggled at your reaction respectively.

“Okay, baby, lie down for me”, your captain instructed, the teasing tone from earlier being replaced with soft command. You wanted to ask how you could make her feel good with your mouth if you were laying down but trusted her enough to feel confident that whatever it was, was going to work out, so laid down. Shauna moved a few pillows behind your head, so that your neck wasn’t in an uncomfortable position, the consideration made your heart flutter.

“Shipman, help me take my panties off, will you?”, she asked a suddenly flustered Shauna as she unhooked her own bra and let it drop to the floor.

“U-uh, yeah, shit, sure.”

Next thing you knew, Jackie’s underwear was gone, and you were face to face with her pussy as she straddled your head. An embarrassingly loud noise left your mouth as you took her in. “You like what you see?”, she grinned from her position above you, you couldn’t see her face but could hear in her voice how much she was enjoying teasing you like this. Fighting the urge to immediately put your mouth on her, you bit your tongue and listened as they made fun of you.

“I bet she’s trying really hard to not taste you”, Shauna said, moving next to you so she could look at your face. “Jesus Jackie, she looks like she’s going to cry with how desperate she is”, she cooed.

Jackie laughed and wiggled her hips like she was taunting you. “Okay, okay”, she seemed like she was going to give you a break and lower herself onto your impatient tongue, “I’ll let her prove that she deserves to be fucked”. Your captain slowly lowered herself onto your mouth, with a moan she leaned her head back, pleasantly overwhelmed by the sensation of your tongue moving pressed flat against her clit. You moved downwards to her slit and prodded inside her with your tongue, hoping to find her g spot as soon as possible. It would be a complete lie to say you hadn’t given much thought to what your best friend would taste like, she tasted so good, and you knew you’d never forget her taste or her scent or the way her hands were now tangled in your hair.

“Shit, Shauna, she’s actually pretty damn good at this”, she spoke to you next: “have you had practice eating pussy baby?” You moaned into her and tried to respond but were too preoccupied with trying to get her to cum in your mouth as you needed to taste it desperately, your underwear was already soaked through but the things they were saying made them even more so.

“I don’t think she can talk”, Shauna chuckled, observing the way you kept going back up to Jackie’s clit to give it attention.

“Whatever, fuck, whatever she’s doing it’s- ugh- it’s working”, the girl above you sounded like she was drunk on your tongue, her words slurred and struggled. Shauna couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, of Jackie, of you? she couldn’t tell - but knew whatever it was, was outweighed by the sheer arousal that overcame her watching as her best friend rode your face.

Jackie began to grind into your face, deciding she couldn’t just sit still any longer, she needed to have control. You gave it up happily, as usual when it came to her, your hands reaching around to grab her ass and help her ride your face.

“Slap her ass”, the brunette ordered, you obeyed without hesitation and soon a small red print showed on the unmarked flesh of Jackie’s ass. Shauna moved around and kneeled so that her and Jackie were facing each other, almost face to face, she kissed her deeply.

“Fuck”, Jackie whimpered into her mouth, already close. The other girl grinned and tucked some of Jackie’s dark blonde hair behind her ear.

“I didn’t expect her to be so good at this”, the brunette mused, it was true, she knew you weren’t completely innocent but hadn’t expected for you to be this good.

“Well, she’s beaten your science test scores before so- “, Jackie’s broken words were interrupted by a moan as you began to suck on her clit, “I’d say she’s pretty much good, fuck, at e-everything now”.

The midfielder feigned offence, “Just because she’s good at eating pussy and science doesn’t mean I’m not”.

“Wanna prove it?” Jackie asked her through breathy moans with the hint of a smirk.

“Happily, but right now it’s about this little slut”, Shauna moved a hand down to stroke some of your hair surprisingly gently. Gentle was not a word to describe how Jackie’s fists were still gripping your hair though as she impaled herself on your tongue. They began to kiss again, and you’d have given anything to see them as well as hear them, the desperation didn’t last long as Jackie’s hips began to stutter.

“Fuck, Shipman, she’s gonna make me cum.”

Shauna laughed, kissing her again, “Go on, babe. Cum all over our best friend’s face.” It turns out Jackie Taylor could take orders as well as give them, as soon she was coming hard in your mouth with a loud cry. She tasted even better than you had imagined, Shauna had to steady her so she didn’t collapse on top of you, both of you calmed her as she came down from her orgasm.

“Holy shit”, the striker breathed out, legs shaking, you tried not to let out a noise of disappointment as she moved off of your face, instead opting to sit on your lap.

That feeling was short-lived though as she carefully bent down to kiss you. Jackie groaned as she tasted herself on your mouth, your other teammate watched for a moment before kneeling beside you so she could kiss you too. Shauna made a similar noise, “Fuck, Jackie, you taste really good.”

“Thanks babe”, Jackie grinned, still a little out of breath. She looked down at you with an expression of satisfaction, “I think you’ve proved yourself, what do you think?”. You didn’t nod or speak, still too dazed from your mouth being buried in Jackie’s pussy.

“I think she’s earned it”, Shauna spoke for you, kissing you sweetly on the forehead.

The other girl hummed in agreement, “How do you want us baby?”. A million images instantly flashed into your head, all more vulgar than the last - the sad truth was you wanted too much. Wanted them too much.

“She’s always been indecisive, Jackie. Let’s just make her take what we give her, hmm? I’ve got a few ideas.” Shauna’s words made your head swim, a few ideas could mean anything.

“Such as?”, her best friend asked, the brunette simply smirked and moved in closer to the other so she could whisper something into her ear. You tried hard to listen to what she was saying but couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of your own heart.

The idea seemed to be a good one though as Jackie almost gasped with excitement as she turned to Shauna, “Oh, fuck, Shipman, you’re a kinky one aren’t you?”

The taller girl blushed to her friend’s delight, “Shut up”. Your eyes darted between them, what had Shauna suggested? The thoughts were interrupted as the midfielder began to take her flannel off, you bit your lip to keep from protesting, knowing seeing her bare chest would be worth the price to pay. To your surprise though she didn’t move to take off her bra, instead taking the shirt in her hands and adjusting the sleeves. Whilst she done that, Jackie got off of you and offered you a hand to help you get up.

“Get up and kneel”, she commanded once you were on your feet again.

You obeyed immediately and found yourself then kneeling on the floor of the attic, shaking with barely contained anticipation. Shauna stood only in her bra, the red item of clothing still in her hands, “Hands behind your back”. The young woman’s tone was blunter and more to the point than Jackie’s, less interested in teasing you and more interested in getting exactly what she wanted then & there.

A hint of confusion washed over you, but you trusted and obeyed her anyways, moving your hands behind your back. The two girls observed you with mischievous smiles, “She’d do anything we’d ask, huh?” Jackie mused, sitting and watching as Shauna stepped forward.

The brunette took the flannel and began to bind your wrists with it, using it as sort of makeshift rope. Oh, she was tying you up. The fact it was with the flannel made it even hotter, Jackie thought so too; “We really like when you wear that, you know? It looks sexy on you.” Shauna blushed, it was a common sight with how easily flustered she got but never failed to make you and Jackie both smile. You unfortunately couldn’t see her face though in that moment, your face turned towards the wall as your best friend tied you up. Once she was satisfied with how tight she had bound your wrists and walked around you, so you were at eye level with her very toned stomach.

Shauna’s abs were a godly sight and you had to keep your mouth closed shut, scared of saying something incredibly pathetic about how much you wanted her inside you. She tilted your head up so you were gazing at her face, “My eyes are up here”.

You turned red as Jackie laughed behind you from her position on the blankets. “C’mon, stop teasing us and just take your clothes off!”, your captain exclaimed, her tone was playful, but it was clear she was growing impatient. You couldn’t help but agree, you had spent all too long fantasising about what the brunette’s tits looked like.

Shauna rolled her eyes, but her hands moved to the back of her bra to unhook it. She let the black garment drop to the floor and your breath hitched, you could barely handle the sight of Jackie’s chest, let alone hers as well as Shauna’s. They were going to be the death of you.

“Wow”, Jackie’s eyes raked over her best friend’s nearly naked body, “I mean wow”. Her words summed up your thoughts about your teammate perfectly.

Shauna shot her a nervous but appreciative smile, before looking down at you. “What do you think?”, it was like an odd mirror of your interaction earlier - except instead of asking how your glasses looked on her, this time she was asking how she looked without anything but panties on.

“You look beautiful”, you struggled to say, her whole body seemed to thrum at your praise.

“Thank you, baby… now”, she began to speak, glancing over quickly at her captain, “I was hoping you’d show me how good you were with your mouth, I mean Jackie got to feel your tongue, so it’d be unfair if I didn’t.” You let out a breath, cursing the fact your hands were tied as you felt the need to steady yourself. Her words made you lightheaded with desire.

“Please let me”, you spoke, trying to not ramble. She grinned and kissed you, guiding you back to where Jackie sat.

Shauna laid down, moving so that you were kneeling in between her legs. Jackie got up and kneeled behind you, beginning to kiss your neck, “Shauna was also thinking that whilst you showed her how good you were with your mouth, I could make you feel good with my fingers. It’d be cruel to make you wait longer, right?”

The idea made you shiver and had appeared before in some of your wet dreams. Jackie’s fingers were long, you had always bet that they could reach all the places deep inside you that needed to be reached.

“What do you say baby?”, the brunette in front of you asked, looking at you both for approval.

“Okay”, you nodded desperately, Jackie smiled against your neck and reached a hand around your stomach, moving downwards towards the hem of your underwear.

Just as she was about to move her hand inside, she stilled and pulled away, “Actually, let’s see you make Shauna feel good a bit first, she needs to take those panties off.” You could see Shauna try to hold in a grin at how mean she was being to you, you took in a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Can you take my panties off for me?”, your taller teammate asked you, moving her waist upwards so you could easily move the underwear down past her hips. You were going to joke that you couldn’t since your hands were tired (quite literally) but realised she hadn’t forgotten that. They meant they wanted you to take them off with your mouth. Jesus, had half the novels Shauna had been recommending you this entire time been erotica? Where did she get all these ideas from?

It wasn’t to say though that you were complaining, nodding, and wasting no time in getting them off with your teeth. Once they were off both you and Jackie let out a noise at the sight of her, yours more a whine, hers more of a groan.

“Shit, baby, I’m jealous you’re going to get to taste her”, Jackie told you, trailing her tongue lightly against your pulse point. You squirmed at the words as well as the sensation, as they put the idea of Jackie eating out Shauna into your head. You prayed to whatever God that was listening that there was a chance you could see that in the future, no matter what happened to you guys out there after that, you’d die happy.

Shauna leaned her head back against the pillows, “Don’t worry you’ll get your chance”, she told her so matter-of-factly it made your stomach tingle.

Captain Taylor pulled away from your neck, “Good”, her reply was blunt, but you could tell on the inside she was ecstatic. Who wouldn’t be excited at the idea of a chance to eat out Shauna Shipman? You certainly were.

“Bend over then and tongue fuck her, or are you going to stay there all day?”, Jackie moved back and was growing impatient by the second. You were a little nervous but weren’t taking your time on purpose, just more in awe at the sight of a very naked Shauna Shipman, you liked it when your captain snapped at you though.

Shuffling back a little, you bent down so your face was in front of Shauna’s cunt. The brunette let out a half moan, half sigh as you licked a long stripe from her entrance all the way up to the top of her swollen clit. “I’d let you use your fingers on me too, pretty girl, but I really like the sight of you tied up. Bet Jackie does too.”

Jackie hummed in agreement, letting one of her hands trail across your ass. She was itching to get her fingers inside of you, but didn’t want to let you know that. Suddenly, the sound of a loud slap rang across the room as Jackie’s hand connected with the left side of your ass.

“Fuck”, you cried out, voice somewhat muffled by your best friend’s soaked core.

Shauna barked a laugh, “Oh fuck, she likes that, hit her again.” The striker slapped you again, the brunette in front of you closed her eyes and savoured the sound of Jackie’s palm making contact with your soft flesh. There was no denying your teammate had a hunger for violence, from her dangerous plays on the pitch, to her short temper and tendency to get into fights. So, there was little surprise when the discovery was made that Shauna Shipman was a bit of a sadist in the bedroom.

Jackie regarded the sight with equal lust and fascination, she was excited to figure out all the things that really made you melt. Things that would make you squirm, all your weaknesses that would make you do anything she asked you to. That would make you hers.

“Suck on my clit, baby”, Shauna moaned, her hips bucking up so her cunt could meet your mouth. You did as she said, taking her clit in your mouth and sucking firmly, your hands desperate to move around to her pussy, but the efforts in trying to untie the flannel were futile. Plus, you couldn’t risk ripping the fabric of that thing, it was the best thing in Shipman’s entire closet.

Shauna tasted amazing; they both did. You came to the realisation that you could do this for hours, days even, if they’d just let you.

“Do you want my fingers now?”, Jackie asked, watching as Shauna whined and writhed under your mouth’s ministrations. You pulled away for just a second to answer your captain with a plea, but Shauna still groaned in protest and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you back down again. She never was patient.

Jackie took a hold of the hem of your underwear, pulling them down, she was going to ask you to move so she could take them fully off, but glanced at the almost feral expression that Shauna had and decided otherwise. If you were taken away from her at that moment the brunette would’ve most likely committed murder.

Jackie took in the sight of you and sighed, “God, you’re so fucking pretty”. The praise made your heart flutter and heat flood in between your legs, which were trembling from sheer desperation and adrenaline. You wanted badly to thank her, but your tongue was too preoccupied moving inside Shauna. It seemed you had found her sweet spot, as she began to squirm even more, her gasps and moans rising rapidly.

“Jesus, Shipman, you’re already close and I haven’t even stuck a finger inside of her yet. Don’t you want to cum together?.” Her words made you smile, it seemed like you really were good at getting them off, it made pride swell inside your chest. From now on, your biggest achievements weren’t going to be soccer championships, perfect test results, or all of that crap. They were going to be how fast you had made Shauna and her equally sexy best friend cum.

“Uh, fuck- “, the midfielder was about to retort something back but was cut off as you began to suck on her clit again, “I recall you didn’t l-last that long either, bitch.” Ah, she could deliver a good come back even in the midst of being given oral, your admiration for Shauna grew daily. The sting of the insult was mainly lost though this time as her voice shook, it was slightly shameful how something that felt like a bolt of electricity shot straight down to your core when you heard Shauna say the word “bitch” too.

Jackie seemed to notice your reaction, “Oh”, she laughed, a hand palming your now bare ass.

“What?”, the other grunted, breathing getting heavier as you took all the wetness she gave you.

“She seemed to like it when you called me a bitch”, the shorter girl said, soft fingertips trailing down to ever so gently brush against your slit.

“Of course she did, the little slut.” Shauna teased, she began to pinch her own nipples, rocking her hips upwards as you got her off with your tongue.

“Gosh, she’s pathetic”, Jackie breathed out, tone half fond and half in awe as her finger moved down and under to slowly circle your throbbing clit.

“Good with her mouth though”, the other replied. She had certainly found a great way to pass the time in the middle of nowhere. Shit, even if you guys were back in civilisation your tongue was certainly something Shauna would forgo a study session at yours for.

Your captain finally showed you mercy as she applied pressure directly onto your sensitive bud, moaning into Shauna’s pussy, you shifted so that by some luck her finger would be pushed into you.

“Want me inside?”, Jackie asked, begrudgingly moving her hand to tease you further, nearly as worked up as you were from all the teasing. Keyword: nearly, the lucky bitch had already came, she was already wet again though. Your captain knew you couldn’t reply, she was asking not for an answer, but to rile you up even further, she wanted to see you to beg for it.

“She’s been a good girl, Jackie, just fucking give her what she needs”, Shauna said, you knew she was only defending you because she was desperate to cum and right then only your tongue could get her there. If the brunette wasn’t so desperate, she’d definitely tease you along with her best friend.

There definitely was something stirring about her calling you a good girl though, since you were academic rivals as well as close friends, compliments from Shauna were scarce, the sappy side of her only coming out when she was drunk. You knew she loved you both, and knew that she cared, she just usually showed it in quieter, more subtle ways. Like driving you to and from school, picking up your favourite snacks, and always bringing an extra pen in case you needed to borrow it during the English class you shared together.

It seemed Jackie had agreed with the other girl’s statement as soon you could feel her index and middle finger enter you slowly. You moved back onto her steadily, she grabbed a hold of where your hands were tied together with Shauna’s flannel and used it to pull you onto her long fingers, controlling how fast or how slow the drag of them inside you was. “Shit, you’re so wet”, she whimpered.

Your tongue flicked against Shauna’s clit as Jackie let go of your tied wrists to play with yours. “You’re so good at eating me out baby”, the brunette praised, moving some of your hair out of your face, not wanting it to get in the way and bother you. The way she was caressing your face made you feel loved, it was a feeling that burrowed itself deep inside your chest. “I’m gonna cum”, the midfielder whimpered, basically riding your face now. You desperately needed to breathe but didn’t dare pull away - scared that you’d ruin her orgasm.

Plus who needed oxygen anyway? Your best friend’s pleasure was way more important than breathing.

Shauna came with a scream, her thighs keeping your head there as her cum flooded your mouth. God, even then you wanted more, it was scary to think you might never be sated no matter how many times she came. You eased up a little and licked her gently as she felt the aftershocks of her orgasm, moaning as the dark blonde girl’s fingers still worked inside you.

“Fuck”, Jackie groaned and to your disappointment, stopped moving her fingers, “that was like the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”. The other girl laughed, very much dazed and out of breath. You kissed Shauna a few times on her clit and inner thighs before deeming it okay to move your head away. You caught your breath as you rested your forehead against her thigh.

“You done so well baby”, the taller girl muttered, eyes closed as she ran a hand through your hair.

“Thank you”, you said, trying not to smile. You would’ve let the compliment override your brain completely, however your mind still was preoccupied with Jackie’s fingers that were still inside you.

“No, thank you”, Shauna’s voice was soft, “Babe, stop being so mean and let her cum - she deserves it”, she continued. The post orgasmic daze was making her softer, it seemed.

Jackie huffed fondly, taking the opportunity quickly to help you remove your underwear fully. They joined the pile of other clothes on the attic floor. “You’re going soft, Shipman. Of course she deserves to cum, but it’s fun to play with her”. With the words ‘play with her’, the striker began to move again and curled her fingers upwards deep inside you. You let out a strangled moan against Shauna’s thigh.

“There we go”, Jackie cooed, moving her other hand around so she could continue to play with your clit. It was as if she had done this before to someone else, as she knew exactly where to put pressure and where to just graze gently. The thought of either of them with anyone else made jealousy burn hot in your blood, pushing away the thought, you focused on what was happening now. Shauna observed a few moments longer before getting up so that she was sitting in front of you, holding you up, she kissed you soundly, groaning as she tasted herself on your tongue.

“You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?” Shauna asked as Jackie put more pressure against your clit, rubbing small circles as the fingers of her other hand reached near your g spot.

You nodded, struggling to speak, a flurry of whimpers escaped your mouth as the sound of Jackie fingering you rang out across the room. The three of you knew the girls downstairs had definitely heard at least one of you by now, but you didn’t care, the only things on your mind were Jackie, who was now hitting your g spot, and Shauna, whose tongue you took into your mouth greedily. “God, you’ve always belonged to us”, Jackie spoke this time, her voice was unlike you had ever heard, it was as if something raw and primal was rising in her throat.

“Even before now as we’re fucking you”, she continued, every thrust of her fingers causing the familiar sensation in the bottom of your stomach to tighten. “I bet you’ve been waiting for us to do this, huh? Waiting around, following us everywhere like a lost little puppy, hoping we’d fucking notice you and just-“, she groaned as she felt you tighten around her fingers, “just fucking wreck you. We’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t we?” Her words made you melt into a puddle of desperation.

Shauna pulled away from your mouth, you could tell by the expression on her face that she absolutely loved the things her best friend was saying. “Shit, you’re right”, the brunette agreed, “I wanna know how many times you’ve touched yourself thinking of us baby, I wanna know when you do it.” She was practically whispering into your ear now, filthy words only you and Jackie could hear. “Every time after practice? When you see us in our soccer kits and just can’t help yourself? After we hang out or after our study sessions? I bet you’ve imagined me just swiping all the fucking flashcards off our desk and throwing you on there instead”.

Jackie laughed. “I wish that was on the biology curriculum, wanna let everyone know your ours”.

It seemed as if Shauna was working herself up again with the things she was saying: “I bet you’d love us to fuck you all in front of all of them downstairs, hmm? Let Tai and Lottie and the rest of them know you belong to us”.

At her words, and the mention of your teammates (who, despite your heart belonging to the two girls you were with, you were also desperately attracted to), you let out an obscene sound which could be only described as you losing whatever shred of self-respect you had left. Moving back and forth on Jackie’s fingers, you leaned forward and crushed Shauna’s mouth against your own, not only needing to feel her lips against your own and her tongue in your mouth. But to also get her to shut up because if she kept saying things like that, you’d either cum embarrassingly quickly or pass out and die.

Your efforts proved futile though as Jackie kept hitting places deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “Are you close?”, she teased, knowing you were about to cum all over her hand. Whining against Shauna’s mouth, you tried to squeeze your thighs and keep her hand there, knowing what she was probably going to do next. Just as you reached the edge, you felt her pull out of you. Her laughter rang in your ears as you teared up with frustration.

“Fuck, Jackie, that was so mean”, Shauna’s words seemed angry, but she was laughing, secretly just as deliciously cruel as her best friend.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was just too tempting,” she apologised to both you and Shauna, knowing how much you had wanted to cum, and also knowing how much Shauna had wanted to watch you cum. Mainly to you though, as she could definitely see how wet you were from her position kneeling on the floor behind you.

“Please”, you pleaded, “I need you inside me, Jackie.” She let out a sigh of affection, rubbing your back a little whilst she contemplated whether she was going to let you cum this time, or be even crueller and deny you for a second time.

“Fine, my sweet girl. You’ve got me going soft for you, so better appreciate it.” She entered you again, instantly pressing up against a spot she knew drove you wild. You rambled gratitude to her as she used the fingers of her other hand to flick your clit.

Shauna peppered kisses across your face, glad that her best friend had finally decided to show you some mercy. “You’re taking her fingers so well, my love”, the midfielder said, grasping your face gently with both hands. You seemed to melt under both of their touches, Jackie’s more so literally as wetness ran down your inner thighs.

You were close again already, struggling to not cry out so loud the entire wilderness could hear you. The girl in front of you helped muffle your desperate whimpers as she kissed you again on the mouth with so much fervour your teeth nearly knocked together.

“Back onto me, yeah, just like that”, you could hear Jackie demand. “Cum for me, please, fucking cum all over my hand baby”, she was begging now.

The words sent you tumbling over the edge and your vision nearly went blurry as you came all over Jackie’s hand, your wetness running down her forearm. Shauna had to hold you gently to keep you steady, so you didn’t fall face-first onto the floor, she chuckled and kept kissing you to drown out your moans.

The striker ceased her ministrations on your clit, not wanting you to become oversensitive to the point of pain, instead fingering you slowly as you came down from your orgasm. “That’s it”, she gently guided you, running a hand up and down your back as Shauna kissed your forehead sweetly. A few moments were taken as you caught your breath, basically sandwiched between them.

When you seemed steady enough, Jackie pulled out of you and moved to untie your hands. You grunted as you stretched them behind your back in relief, trying not to grin as you realised that meant you could now pull her and Shauna closer to you. You, having grown a lot bolder, sat up and reached behind you, gesturing for Jackie to come and kiss you from behind.

She did as you had hoped, wrapping her arms around your waist she placed a kiss against your neck, kissing her way up to your cheek and then across to your mouth. Soon you could feel Shauna’s mouth on you too, kissing your cheek sweetly, Jackie pulled away so that the brunette could kiss your lips too.

“Well shit, that was fun.” Jackie laughed, Shauna moved from you and captured Jackie’s mouth with her own. They kissed with closed mouths for a minute or so before Shauna got impatient and opened her mouth so she could feel Jackie’s tongue against her own. The sight of them together made your heart swell, a pang of regret seized you that you didn’t get to see them make each other cum, but that was quickly soothed realising that tonight was about you. You’d get plenty of opportunities to see them together in the future.

“Sure was. What did you think baby? You enjoy that?”, Shauna asked you, you lowered your head, flushing.

They laughed, “Don’t act all shy now”, Jackie teased. You didn’t reply, fearing that if you opened your mouth, you’d say something incredibly cheesy.

“The girls are all probably asleep, we need to get some sleep too I think.” Shauna’s voice was gentle as she pulled away from you both and stood up, gathering all your discarded clothes as well as her red flannel that had been untied from your wrists. She took some time folding them neatly as you and Jackie sat as she held you.

You were secretly glad that they didn’t seem to be making a move to put anything on, you enjoyed the quiet intimacy of being naked around one another. Your confidence still wasn’t ideal, but they had just proved to you that they loved every part of you no matter what. You could tell Jackie felt the same way too, with the quiet way she had kept looking down at her body when she had first taken her clothes off. She acted confident but she was just like any other young woman.

It was relieving to believe someone when they told you they loved you, let alone two someones. That night when you, Jackie, and Shauna fell asleep in each other arms, not even the dread of tomorrow could creep into your chest, as it was already full of love and comfort and a warmth so unfamiliar it made you want to cry.

The next morning wasn’t much different than usual, except for the fact all of the girls couldn’t stop staring at you, when you would catch their eye, they’d look away quickly as if they were embarrassed.

Shit, they had definitely all heard you three.

a/n: welp, that's it for now goobers, tune in for part two (and possibly three ;))

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whizzing-fizzbee · 2 months ago

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I'm going on vacation, so as a tiny parting gift and since everyone seems to love Subastian, I give you...

Ignorant.

Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit/MDNI; all characters are adults Words: ~4000 Tags: female reader insert, 2nd person POV, no y/n, smut, soft dom/sub, Subastian Sallow, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, revenge, marriage, post-Hogwarts, aged up characters, MDNI

Summary: You already know what this one's about. That incident. On this day five years ago, Sebastian Sallow had the audacity to call you ignorant during an argument in the Undercroft. You forgave but you sure as hell didn't forget. Now, you're exacting some revenge five years later to show your new husband who the ignorant one really is. In other words: MC is petty as hell for remembering and exploiting the "ignorant" incident in the form of sexual revenge.

Notes: I love how the "ignorant" incident has become an ongoing joke within the HL fandom, so this is just something silly and stupid I thought up. Major thanks to @newdreamlove95 for helping me sort through the logistics of this one.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Today was special. It marked a particular anniversary for you and your beloved husband. No, it wasn’t your wedding anniversary, nor was it the annual marking of the first day you met, or even your first date.

This anniversary held a much more facetious meaning. Perhaps you were petty for remembering it, but you never claimed to be perfect.

It all started five years ago, when you were caught in the middle of a whirlwind school year. You had just started at Hogwarts, already years behind your classmates in your lessons. Then you discovered that not-so little secret about your ancient magic and Ranrok’s mission to turn Hogwarts and its surrounding hamlets to hell on earth, all while your new friend Sebastian decided to dip his toes into dark magic to try and save his sister.

Needless to say, your first year at Hogwarts was a bit much. But plenty of good did come from it. You saved the school – and probably the entirety of the surrounding Highlands – from Ranrok, Rookwood and their loyalists. You took down a notorious ring of poachers and saved the golden snidgets. You exposed Cassandra Mason and took over her decaying Hogsmeade shop, gave Puffskein Duncan the ridiculing he deserved and helped that sweet old goblin reunite with his dear mooncalf Biscuit. All that, and you even managed to make that freckled friend of yours fall in love with you.

You hadn’t meant to. Sure, you’d had a crush on Sebastian from the start, and apparently he had it bad for you the moment you demolished him in that Defense Against the Dark Arts duel. But he spent most of your fifth year chasing down a cure for Anne’s curse, while you spent that time chasing him down in hopes he wouldn’t get himself killed.

It wasn’t until all the dust had settled – after Solomon’s death, Ranrok’s demise and Ominis Gaunt’s decision to keep quiet about Sebastian’s crimes – that Sebastian realized how important you had become to him. It was somewhere around Christmas of your sixth year that he finally crafted the courage to tell you.

Since then, you and Sebastian Sallow were synonymous. Where you went, he went, and vice-versa. When someone spoke your name, his followed. It was no surprise to your Hogwarts classmates and professors that you eventually became Mrs. Sallow.

But your great love story wasn’t without a few hiccups. You and Sebastian were both bold and brash. You both liked to fight fire with fire, and while he was much more impulsive, you were stubborn and clever. It was inevitable that the two of you occasionally tussled, but you also loved one another far too deeply to ever let your grievances get too far.

Except for this one tiny, little thing.

You brought it up only on rare occasion. If anything, it had become an inside joke of sorts between you and your husband – a silly memory of your rocky beginnings. He apologized profusely and you’d forgiven him ages ago. But that didn’t mean you forgot.

So on this particular day, which marked five years since that irritating little incident, you decided it was time to remind your husband to be mindful of how he speaks to you.

The two of you left work promptly at 5 p.m. You were both Aurors, another example of how in tandem the two of you were. You’d spent your Hogwarts days as partners in crime only to graduate and become partners who chased down criminals.

But today, Sebastian was the only one who would be paying for any crimes – even if they had technically been forgiven five years ago.

You entered your London townhome per usual, tossing your coat on a hook by the door as Sebastian whined about being hungry. You barely acknowledged his words. You were far too excited to serve revenge, not dinner.

While he rummaged through the cabinets for something to eat, you kicked off your shoes and continued to your home office. It was your own secluded space where you kept your most important belongings – notebooks about the repository, research on ancient magic, observations about that stupid relic Sebastian had stolen your fifth year. You kept it all filed away safely under lock and key. The remainder of your office housed a desk covered in trinkets, an old armchair and a row of modest bookshelves. And in one corner of the office sat the old triptych.

You took Isidora Morganach’s triptych with you upon graduating Hogwarts when you and Sebastian decided you couldn’t risk leaving it for someone to stumble upon in the Undercroft. It now posed as a pretty piece of artwork, its significance only meant for you and Sebastian.

You gazed at the triptych and smiled to yourself. It represented a monumental portion of your past, particularly with Sebastian. In many ways, you might even say it brought the two of you closer as you spent months during your fifth year searching for its missing canvases. And then, there was that moment, which occurred on this day in front of the triptych five years ago.

“Oh, darling!” you called out. “Can you come here?”

You leaned with your back to the desk, wand held lazily in one hand as you waited. Sebastian’s footsteps padded against the wood floors until he was lingering in the doorway of your office.

“Yes, love?” He stepped into the room, his brow furrowed as he noticed you gazing at the triptych. “What is it?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about this old thing,” you said innocently as you gestured toward the triptych. “Brings back quite a few memories.”

Sebastian blinked, unsure what to make of your sudden nostalgia. “That, it does,” he agreed. “What’s the reason for this trip down memory lane?”

“Oh, nothing,” you shrugged. “I was just thinking back and realized what day it is.”

“What day it is?” Sebastian repeated blankly. You smirked as you could see the panic surging through his head. He was certainly trying to recall important dates, terrified he’d forgotten your birthday or anniversary. “Sorry, darling, I don’t recall.”

You stepped toward him, hooking one arm around his neck to pull him close, your bright eyes shining as you smiled at him. “You don’t remember what happened with this triptych on this day five years ago?”

Sebastian fought to remember, his frown deepening as he struggled for a response. “Five years ago? I’m sorry, love,” he admitted. “I have no idea.”

“Oh, well that’s okay,” you said with a shrug. “It’s not really that big of a deal.” You reached for his tie and tugged him into a slow kiss, offering him a cheery smile when you pulled away.

“But if it’s important to you-” Sebastian started. You cut him off with another kiss, stepping toward him to press your body against his. You knew he’d forget all about that triptych now.

As you dragged your tongue against Sebastian’s bottom lip, you rocked your hips forward into his. His fingers pressed into the small of your back. You nudged him backward until he was against the desk, his thigh between your legs. You grinded yourself against him and moaned, your eyes falling shut as you rocked.

“Fucking hell, what’s gotten into you?” Sebastian breathed. You kissed him again, the flat palms of your hands raking down his chest until they were in his lap. You smirked against his lips as you felt the bulge in his trousers.

“I love when you get hard for me,” you whispered, one hand stroking over his length. Sebastian groaned at your touch. You continued to rub him through his trousers until he was fully erect, the fabric now straining tight around him. You shifted forward against his thigh.

“Tell me you want me,” you breathed in his ear.

“You know I do,” Sebastian murmured.

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

“You know where.”

You fiddled with the knot of his tie and yanked his shirt open to slide it down his arms until it was a crumpled heap on the desktop, then you kissed a trail across his jawline and returned flat on your feet so you could tug his trousers off. “Here?” you asked as two fingers traced the tip of his bare cock.

“Yes, there,” Sebastian hissed.

“What do you want me to do to you?” You ran your tongue across your bottom lip as you held eye contact.

“Everything,” he breathed.

“Such as?”

“Ride me.”

“And what do you want to do to me?”

“Ruin you.”

You pulled away just far enough to gaze upward at him with soft doe eyes. He was beaming, clearly under the false impression he was going to bend you over that desk.

“And you really don’t remember what today is?”

“I’m sorry, love, I don’t.”

You tutted, your hand gently cupping his face as you pouted at him. “That’s a shame,” you mewed as you gazed into Sebastian’s worried eyes. “Didn’t realize you were so ignorant.”

You flashed a gleeful grin as you watched the realization and the horror swell over Sebastian's expression.

“Y- you actually remember the specific date of that?” he whined. “You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, love, I am so serious,” you breathed as you steadied your wand hand. “Petrificus totalus.”

Sebastian’s arms snapped to his side and his legs locked. You caught him before he could crash to the floor and eased him down gently until he was flat on his back. You smirked into his eyes, which blinked back at you in disbelief.

“Sorry, dear,” you said merrily as you leaned over him until you were inches from his face. You dropped your wand next to his body to taunt him, leaving it within reach though he couldn’t move. “But I’m going to show you who the ignorant one is here.”

You stood over Sebastian, his torso between your feet as you started to unbutton your blouse. You maintained your stare down into his eyes as your fingers worked slowly and deliberately until you were slipping your arms from the sleeves. You tossed the shirt into a corner and returned your fingers to the clasp of your bra. You let it drop from your body so that it fell across Sebastian’s chest.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” you whined dramatically as you wriggled out of your skirt and kicked it aside with your bra. Looming over Sebastian in just your soaked panties, you flashed him a cheeky grin. “Can’t you tell?” He blinked in despair.

“Oh, sorry, love,” you said with nonchalance as you reached for a pillow from the armchair. You tucked it beneath Sebastian’s head to prop it up and smiled. “There. Is that better?”

You smiled at his lack of response and stepped out of your panties. Now fully bare, you sank to the floor until you were straddling Sebastian’s chest, your parted knees on either side of his biceps.

“Merlin, what a day it’s been,” you declared. “I was so tense all day.” You spoke with slow drama, your hand carefully snaking down your chest and past your stomach until it was between your thighs. You stared at Sebastian as you dragged two fingers over your entrance and let out a melodramatic moan, drawing long, slow swipes across your clit until you needed more. You sank a finger inside yourself and inhaled sharply at the welcome intrusion, extracting it slowly to ensure Sebastian could see your slick arousal.

He hated when you made him watch, which rarely happened because he was always quick to ravage you the moment he became jealous of your fingers. But not this time.

“That’s better,” you breathed as your wet fingers found your clit again. You worked as slowly as you could withstand, sexy gasps and whimpers chorusing from your throat to emphasize just how much you were enjoying yourself. Your thighs locked around Sebastian’s biceps as you brought yourself close to a climax. Though his stiff body remained still, you could hear his breaths becoming ragged beneath you.

Your hips jutted forward as the heat mounted within your nerve endings until it sent searing spasms deep below the surface of your skin. You choked out a pitchy moan as you rubbed yourself to completion, your eyes clamped shut until it was over.

You peeked one eye open once your body stopped shivering. Sebastian was staring up at you with desperate defeat in his eyes. You flashed your canines at him.

“Oh, that was good,” you moaned as you remained seated on his chest. “But it certainly could have been better. Too bad I’m too ignorant to get myself off properly.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh as you rose to your feet, offering Sebastian a full view of the aftermath of your solo play until you sauntered toward the door.

“My, I’m parched,” you mused, casting a smirk downward at Sebastian. “Pardon me, love. I’m just going to go fetch something to drink.”

You wanted to prolong this as long as you could. You wanted to relish it, remember it, commit it to memory, because if you knew your husband, you knew he’d find some way to exact revenge sooner than later.

By the time you returned with a glass of water in hand, you almost felt guilty for what you were doing to your poor husband. He remained on the floor, eyes blinking upward as you lowered yourself into the armchair with a satiated smile to sip casually from the cool glass.

“I was so thirsty!” you drawled as you allowed some of the water to spill onto your chest. “Oops!” It trickled between your breasts, down your body, toward your lap. “How ignorant of me,” you laughed as you set the glass on the desktop with a crisp clink.

“Now,” you said as you knelt on the floor next to Sebastian. “I took care of myself. I suppose it’s only fair that I take care of you too, given your sorry state.” You crawled closer to him and leaned over to peer into his eyes. “How’s this?” you cooed as you dragged your palm down his chest. You lowered your lips to his neck and sucked gently against the skin.

“Why are you sweaty, Seb?” you teased in his ear. His eyes shifted in reply. You barked a laugh and returned your lips to his body. You kissed down his chest toward his navel and stilled, peering into Sebastian’s eyes with a new sense of seriousness.

“Do you want me to keep going?” you asked as you studied his eyes for any sign of protest. “Blink once for yes, twice if you really want me to stop.”

Sebastian blinked once. You smirked at him and dipped your head, placing a kiss just below his belly button until you eyed his erection.

“You poor thing,” you cooed, your hot breath ghosting over his cock. You hovered above it, your lips painfully close to making contact. Sebastian puffed an impatient breath through his nose. The tip of his cock glistened with arousal.

Finally, you ran your flattened tongue the length of his shaft. You moved slowly; you knew Sebastian – ever the impatient one – went wild whenever you did that.

The room was still as you wrapped your lips around Sebastian’s cock and sucked. Your tongue danced circles around the tip each time your head bobbed upward. He always moaned and groaned when you did that, but this time, you savored his silence.

Your jaw slackened and you eased your throat around Sebastian’s cock until it reached the back. You hummed as you held him there, your eyes shining with satisfaction because you knew he was undoubtedly on the cusp of losing his mind. As you glided and gurgled around his tip, you were almost certain you could hear him whimper. You hastened your movements until your hollowed cheeks ached from pulling against his cock.

You listened carefully to Sebastian’s breathing, ready to time your next move. When you heard sharp, short puffs of exhale emanating from his nostrils, signaling his impending peak, you let his cock pop free from your mouth. You smirked and licked your lips at him. His labored breaths sounded painful.

Sebastian’s body may have been incapable of movement, but it clearly wasn’t immune to temperature change. His skin was scalding hot and you could see beads of sweat glistening in the low light.

“What’s the matter, Seb?” you teased with the back of one hand placed flat against his forehead. “You’re absolutely burning up.”

You leaned down to plant a kiss on his lips. His nostrils flared as his eyes bore into yours.

“Now, what else was it that you wanted from me?” You tapped your chin as you pretended to think. “Ah, yes. Something about me riding you? How does that sound?”

Sebastian blinked once. You cackled in response. He was foolish if he thought you were going to be doing any of this for his benefit, and his eyes looked worried for what else was in store.

You climbed on top of him, your thighs hugging the sides of his hips as you arched your back to show off your body. Sebastian typically called the shots when it came to sex. He was dominant and you liked the way he took control in the bedroom. But not today. Today was yours.

You could feel Sebastian’s erection pressing against your entrance. If the anticipation didn’t kill you, surely Sebastian would. He was never very apt at the slow burn dance that was foreplay.

A low hum formed in your throat as you sank around his cock, your slick arousal exposing how badly you needed him. Regardless, you remained focused on the task at hand. You hovered around his tip rather than allow your weight to pull you downward around Sebastian entirely. Your hips rose and dipped until you were moaning at the sensation of his tip dragging against the spot that made your toes curl.

Sebastian’s eyes seemed to scream for relief but when you studied them, he didn’t blink. Your control of your husband made you giddy. But while you wanted nothing more than to prolong this, you needed your release. Finally, you allowed yourself to accommodate him fully, his cock spearing your innermost core. Your walls were already threatening to quiver as you began to bounce. His cock poked and prodded the swollen pressure inside of you until your moans echoed off the office walls.

Below you, Sebastian’s fragmented breaths competed with the sounds of your slapping skin.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined as you rocked with more fervor, desperate to snap the cord tightening inside you. It strained until it severed, your tension breaking in the form of sharp spasms that made your legs quake. You issued a guttural wail as your walls pulsed with pleasure.

When it subsided, you were left gasping for breath, your hands supporting your weight against Sebastian’s chest. His eyes were squeezed shut. When they cracked open, you smiled at him innocently.

You eased yourself upward with slow deliberation to provide Sebastian with a view of your soaked entrance as if you were about to rise to your feet. You locked eyes with him again and winked.

“What’s wrong?” You feigned confusion as Sebastian’s eyes shifted. “Did you think I was done? Oh Seb, how very ignorant of you.”

You chuckled and leaned backward this time as you rode him with your hands resting atop his knees to offer him a better view of the union happening between your hips. The angle nearly made you cry out, still sensitive as the anterior wall of your cunt glided against Sebastian’s tip. When it still wasn’t enough, you lifted yourself onto your feet, your knees falling wide open as you rose and dipped around his cock.

“Do you like what you see?” you taunted, panting as you continued to roll your hips, your arms locked at the elbows to support your upper body weight. Sebastian’s legs remained rigid beneath you. Your breasts jiggled with every movement and Sebastian’s eyes darted around as if they were overwhelmed by the vision that had unfolded above him. The obscene view was only rivaled by the crude sounds of his cock pounding your wet cunt.

“Oh god.” You bounced until your thighs burned and arms shook as they supported you, your own eyes falling shut as the heat inside your core began to surge up your spine again. Your hips increased their pace until you were smacking hard on top of Sebastian, whose face flushed crimson. You ground him into the floor with rough rocking motions until you were howling through an orgasm, your hips held in place until your walls stopped seizing.

You remained perched on top of Sebastian as you caught your breath, your head hazy and pulse racing. But as soon as your gaze met his, a wicked smile spread across your lips. Sebastian’s eyes were exhausted. Though he hadn’t moved a muscle, he looked as if he’d been through hell and back. But his trip wasn’t over just yet.

Finally, you crawled off of him, still on all fours as you positioned yourself above his legs.

“Looks so painful,” you purred as you eyed his erection. “Want me to relieve it?”

Sebastian blinked so hard, a bead of sweat trickled down his temple, reminiscent of a tear. You giggled at him.

“Alright, fine,” you simpered as you dipped your head. You pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock.

With only the tip of your tongue, you licked slowly – so slow, you could feel every ridge of Sebastian’s length. It was still slick from your previous acts, and you hummed at your own taste. You teased his tip at a tantalizing pace.

Finally, your head bobbed faster as your entire mouth engulfed him. You raked your fingernails down his chest until they pricked the tops of his thighs, sinking with slow intention while your mouth worked. Your lips dragged over his flesh with fervor until you could hear Sebastian’s breaths becoming broken sniffles. Your nails dug deeper and you moaned a series of vibrations around his cock, pulling and licking in sensual patterns until you were certain he was about to rupture.

And then, you released him with another soft pop. His eyes squeezed shut in sheer, unmitigated agony.

When you straightened up to take his cock in your hand, Sebastian sighed through his nose in relief. You traced a gentle finger over the apex, the body-bind spell preserving his erection, raw and red, aching for release.

Your fingers curled around Sebastian’s cock, your thumb tracing circles over the tip until you began to stroke him – hard. Sebastian’s watery eyes shot open at the intense friction while you pumped your hand at a fervid rate. It was tenacious and brutal, much rougher than how you typically treated your beloved husband, but you wanted this to linger in his memory for another five years, just in case he ever dared to call you anything but breathtakingly brilliant.

You stroked faster and harder until Sebastian’s nostrils were whistling with strenuous breaths. With one hand still working around his cock, you reached for your wand with the other.

“Reparifors.”

The body-bind spell fell and Sebastian’s entire body seized. His chest heaved upward as he gasped for breath, his legs kicking against the floor. He let out a carnal cry, his back arching off the floor as his cock erupted, twitching in your hand as it spurted his grand release in hot ropes across his own stomach. It left him a wheezing and whining mess of a man, sprawled out across the floor like a ruined ragdoll.

You, however, were drunk on power. All the ancient magic in the world couldn’t match this feeling as you batted your lashes innocently at your listless husband.

“Alright, love?” you asked with faux concern, your tone laced with saccharine sincerity.

Sebastian, whose hair was now plastered to his sweat-soaked face, glared at you with subdued eyes. He was still catching his breath, his body now limp and lifeless.

You smirked at him with absolute elation as you leaned over him, your eyes staring deep into his to emphasize your point.

“Sorry, darling,” you breathed quietly. “Guess you shouldn’t have been so ignorant.”

#mdni #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfic #whizzing fizzbee fanfic

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muqingslover · 20 days ago

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[ Back on my doomed childhood boys agenda yippieeee!! This one is a more long kinda fic style of my take on their relationship! For the people who are new: I'm basically just exploring their vulnerability and dynamic with each other bc I think it's neat!

I'll be splitting this one into two parts that I plan on posting as soon as im done proofreading \⁠(⁠๑⁠╹⁠◡⁠╹⁠๑⁠)⁠ﾉ FYI: First part is more centered around Caleb and the next one around Zayne!

Also! Please give me tag name ideas specifically for these posts!! ]

Zayne and Caleb have a complicated relationship. It wasn't hard to realize if anyone was to spend more than ten minutes in the same room as them.

You were their everything; Their first love, their most precious person and the one they'd both do anything for. They wanted nothing more than to make sure you were happy and safe regardless of where you were.

That fact soon extended into looking out for each other so you never needed to worry about either of them. Or well, that's how it started as anyway.

Caleb sometimes got into fights without your knowledge to protect you from the neighborhood troublemakers that wanted to bully you. It wasn't a big deal, really. But, during that time, he wasn't the biggest or the strongest and naturally he came out looking a bit rough.

"Again?" Zayne sighed when he found the other sitting near your house like a watch dog, looking all bruised up and disheveled. He expected this 'phase' of his to naturally pass as they grew older, but it didn't quite fully go away. Well, nothing that involved you ever simply disappeared with Caleb.

"Piss off." He huffed roughly as he wiped the blood from his split lip and crossed his arms over his chest like he was a pouty child instead of an edgy teen. Zayne was always amazed by the stark contrast of how he acted when you weren't around— The boarding on childish sulking, unmeasured words, constant grumpy or simply uninterested look on his face and his boyish, petty behavior. Part of him couldn't begin to imagine how exhausting it must be to always be putting on an act in front of someone he loves, to repress everything about who he is for the sake of being flawless.

"Let me take a look." He sat next to him as he reached into his bag for some of the emergency supplies he carried with him exactly for situations such as these. In the beginning there was a lot of "acting tough" from Caleb but by bringing up the fact you would be very upset if you were to find out the real reason as to why he was all beaten up he quickly piped down. This was basically routine now— The way Zayne would receive nasty glares because the alcohol stung, the grumbles about how this was nothing "compared to the other guys" and how the other refused to meet his eyes while he patched up the small wounds that littered his skin.

Caleb found...uncomfortable how he was always so earnest. Zayne always had that same "dumb, dead fish" look on his face and yet he was so....Genuine. More than he will ever get to be. His sharp, green eyes seemed to peel away each layer that he so carefully kept wrapped around himself to stay hidden from the world, hidden from you, laying him bare effortlessly and he didn't like that. No, he hated it.

After all, to Caleb, love is about being everything you want and more. It's about twisting himself into knots for your comfort. It's about living and dying for you without hesitation because nothing else, not even himself, matters if you're by his side. He will be who you need him to be and if that means throwing away who he truly is then he will do it gladly.

Still, sometimes, only sometimes, his mind would beg for a break. Only a small moment of respite where he didn't have to overthink about each of the expressions he made or triple check his actions.

Zayne never needed to find out that when he was by his side it was as if he could really breathe. It was just...easy. He didn't expect anything from him nor did Caleb want to impress the other in any way. Sure, he wanted to prove he was better than that "four eyes" was for you, but he never felt the desperate need to keep that facade he kept with you when it was just them. Nothing between them felt rehearsed or forced, not even when they lent each other a hand. How can someone Caleb dislikes so much bring him such peace remains to this day a mystery to him.

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toruro · 1 year ago

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i just think….toxic ex bf!dino who starts hoeing out to make you jealous.. he fucks any random girl at any random party but only thinks of you, making sure his hickeys are visible enough for you to see them, posting pics with randoms on his socials 💭

nectar of the gods

tags: smut (18+), angst, toxic chan (duhh), pet names (baby), creampie

w/c: 1.4k

a/n: this concept is insanity actually anon i am in love with u (WINK WONK WINK WONK WINK WONK) ..,,, pls visit my inbox more often :3

thinking about your toxic ex chan.

it's funny when you say that, because he was the one who said he wanted to end things on good terms; told you he wanted "none of that drama ... none of that petty shit." chan had said it so casually that you're now having a hard time trying to figure out if you're going crazy.

crazy, because just three nights after you two ended things, he was posting on his finsta (which, by the way, he demanded you stay on for the sake of keeping peace and not cutting ties) at some party you weren't invited to with some girl you didn't know dancing—no, grinding—on the same man whose lap you were bouncing on just a week earlier.

crazy, because two days later you go to hang out with your group of friends and of course chan is there (because when isn't chan there?), and you swear you haven't seen him wear a shirt with a collar that low in ages and ... is that a hickey? you might go crazy.

crazy, because you aren't sure if he expects you to stare ..,, crazy, because you swear you see his lips curve upwards into a smug smirk when you turn your eyes away, bashfully heating up in the cheeks. "you good?" he asks casually, when you choke over your water a little when you decide to glance back at him and catch second and third splotchy, bruising mark under his collarbone.

crazy, because you aren't sure why your stomach bubbles up with some nasty feeling of ... anger? uncertainty? jealousy?

crazy, because how could you be jealous? you broke up with him—told him you've got too much going on in your life, and while chan was great and all, you don't really have the time for a boyfriend right now. so really, you have no right to be jealous, isn't that correct?

fuck, you've gone crazy.

it doesn't help that you try to avoid him. the next week, you don't sit next to him in the lecture you have together, and you don't think chan'll make a fuss about it. after all, it seems like he's moving on just fine, so you hardly consider the fact that he might be just a bit bothered by the fact that you choose to sit next to seungcheol instead.

you don't expect him to walk up to you afterwards with a frown etched deep into his lips as he scoffs, "already throwing yourself on my friends?" to which you'd like to respond with: "aren't you doing just the same?" ... 'cept you don't say that, because that would mean you're jealous, right? and you're not jealous ... no way!

so you just shake your head softly and say that you're sorry for causing a fuss. that you'll sit with him next time. that you'll start talking to seungcheol less. chan grins at you and nods his head, and as he turns away to head to his car, you catch the fading mark on his neck from a few nights before, and wonder if you should say something.

you don't, of course.

that night you go home, and you're scrolling on your insta and then there's that bright ring around the chan's finsta and so curiosity undoubtedly kills the cat. maybe you tear up a little at the sight of a an obviously faded chan who's got his cheek pressed up against another girl's, both of them grinning as people party in the background.

and so you call him, and he's sweet at first. asks you, "hey what's up ... hey are you crying?" to which you respond with more sniffles. and you wanna hang up, you wanna hang up so bad, but then you think that if you cut the call he's just gonna go off and talk to that girl—or worse, he'll fuck her—and you're totally not jealous but you also totally can't let that happen.

and so you cry a bit harder—you replay the image of those stupid, big fat hickeys on his neck—and you let your tummy churn while you wallow in your own self pity.

"what's wrong baby?" chan asks you from the other side, and in the background you faintly hear the blaring techno and you briefly consider telling him you miss him, which is odd because you don't miss him ... do you? you just don't want him to go off with what's-her-face ... right?

and so you're silent, tryin' to figure out what you should say but then you hear this voice and it's too high pitched, too bubbly, too girly to be chan's, and suddenly your heart sinks right down to your stomach.

"channie, c'mon! let's have some fun?" the voice of a girl calls in the background, and you're just about to open your mouth and say something when chan beats you to it.

"i gotta go," he tells you in a rush and oh the sound of the line being cut will be you're undoing, because now the image of chan fucking this random ass girl burns into your skull and for some reason, you can't seem to shave it down.

and so you drown yourself in your tears, pressing yourself into the cushions of your couch and your sobs rack through your empty living room while chan is probably in some strangers room fucking the living daylights out of a cunt that isn't yours.

you think you might just fall asleep like this—alone in this dimly lit room with nothing but your tears dropping onto your lap; and so when you hear chan's voice you think this might be a dream, but then you look up and suddenly you see him.

he stands in front of you in all his glory, face flushed and faux blonde hair brushes just over his eyes as he walks closer to where you sit on your couch. chan shushes you when you ask him why he's still got your keys—tells you that isn't important right now—and he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears, asks you why you're crying, why there are tears in your eyes when "channie's right here ... channie's not gonna leave you ..."

and then he's kneeling in front of you, askin' you again why you're crying and so you cry even harder ... his hands are all over you, stroking your cheeks and then rubbing your shoulders, then one hand's on your hip and kneading the soft flesh and you think he's just trying to comfort you and so you cry even harder because you wonder whether he had his hands on that girl just moments earlier.

but then he's whispering in your ear, tellin' you he's gonna "make you feel better ..." but only if you'll let him.

his hands feel so nice all over you, rubbing up and down your thighs and—fuck, when did he slip his fingers between your legs? not that you care anyways, because even with your mind deluded with tears, you find the want to slowly hump your hips into his touch until he's slipping his hand down your pant, asking you if this is you letting him "make you feel good."

of course, you whine through your tears, nodding dumbly when he slips his rough fingers into your soaked cunt, murmuring into your neck 'bout how "channie's always gonna be here to make you feel better ... channie's never gonna leave ..."

he fingers you for a bit, and then he fucks you into the couch. it's hot and sloppy and heavy and messy, and it has you crying and panting—hands all over each other because you can't get enough of him.

your lips run all over his neck, his chest, collarbone—all of it, because you are in no way jealous, you just enjoy marking your territory. and chan fucks you so deep, groaning, "this pussy's made for me—just for me, you hear me?" and you are not a jealous person but you grin to yourself in this fucked out haze because chan is right.

you wrap your arms around his neck as he fucks you missionary, raking your nails into his back, tugging at the roots of his hair—doin' everything you fucking can to show chan that he might not be yours but he is yours, and you are his.

the thought that this might come and bite you in the ass crosses your mind briefly, but chan is quick to fuck your worries away, tellin' you "no one's gonna fuck you like this ..." and so you moan, and chan takes that as an agreement, so he fucks you harder until you're choking over your own sobs of pleasure.

"this pussy's mine, you got that baby?"

#answered #✰ anon #mdni #svt smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt scenarios #dino smut #dino x reader #dino scenarios #lee chan x reader #lee chan smut #lee chan imagines #💌 drabbles

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cheol-e-kat · 2 months ago

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• no blueberries, feat. mingyu, pt. 2 •

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

mentioned: seungcheol, joshua, vernon, christian yu (dpr ian in part ii)

word count: 3.1k

genre: fake dating, college au, college student!mingyu, college student!reader, fluff, f2l, idiots, idiots in love, angst, pining, denial of feelings, established friendship (reader & ian), miscommunication

summary: mingyu was just your lab partner and study buddy for several semesters, but lately things seem to have changed, and maybe everyone else has noticed, but for the most part, neither of you even think about what you are to one another until mingyu asks you to be his 'fake' date for a long weekend trip so he can avoid an ex, the biggest problem is realizing that there's nothing fake about your relationship but when mingyu won't even talk about what you are to each other, you start to think things might be over before they even really start

warnings: explicit language, mentions of anxiety, sexually suggestive situations, drinking

a/n: they are literally idiots in love but they're so dumb they almost don't deserve a happy ending - i am screaming at them ;-; ooof writing part ii...and well, i need to update this with additional characters and genres...oops (if you don't know - i am not a planning writing - i just go where the characters take me - they get their shit together - trust the process) besides it's named for a dpr ian song anyway, might as well include him for his dilf status and the accent

xx kat

[part i] [part iii]

♡ if you would like to be tagged in my upcoming posts, go [here]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

𝒚/𝒏

she hadn’t expected the multiple messages asking if she was free that weekend - there were even a few from guys she thought were taken. she didn’t respond, though. even if she was feeling petty and annoyed, she wasn’t that clueless about what was actually going on between herself and the dumb boy sleeping in their room. mingyu hadn’t ever answered her. and she kind of wanted to stay mad at him over it. but she also wanted to be curled in bed with him, like a normal weekend morning, all warm and cozy wrapped in his arms.

she reasoned she could hold out a bit longer. besides, she remembered his messages from the night before - this was the perfect time to scroll through them and maybe find some tiny crumbs to reignite her annoyance.

she wasn’t annoyed, though - he was mainly asking if she was okay and wondering if she would come down because he missed her - wanted her - was she asleep? - he wanted to be where she was - he was tired - ‘plz come down’ x2 - ‘i’m all alone’ - he wished they were back home - ‘we shouldn’t have come’. she bit her lip gently, wondering half-heartedly if he had meant any of it or just needed an excuse to check his phone.

she knew he meant it - he was unquestionably honest when drinking. she sighed, knowing she was maybe just as bad at communicating as he was. but she knew she had asked him more than once to define what they were.

she couldn’t fully take back her shitty messages saying they weren’t dating, even though it was technically true. but she could tag him in a post - a really sappy post with pictures from the last six months. she could have gone back further, but then he would know more than she was ready to share, like how she thought it was serious much sooner.

she picked the photos she thought were cutest, especially the one where he had given her a piggyback ride when she got tired waiting in line for a roller coaster. she tagged his username, but then she stared at the blank description box because what should she even say, she wondered.

she scrolled back through all of her photos to the first one they had taken together - him hugging her from behind while they had walked around in the first snow the year before. he looked so cute and happy - she pressed her lips into a line, feeling way too vulnerable, but she added it in the photo set anyway.

and the description, she typed it super fast before she could talk herself out of it, ‘beautiful, perfect, smart, sweet @/ming0o - i probably don’t tell you how much i like you as often as i should but i hope you know how much i care about you - love’ - she immediately erased the 'love'.

she had the intense urge to throw her phone into the woods from embarrassment. it was way too honest and a display of pure feelings - things she did not do. because she knew putting herself out there like that was scary.

she stared at the draft for a few minutes - she couldn’t hit post. she decided to wait until that afternoon. or maybe never - maybe she should just tell him - that’s what ian kept saying when they talked - not to mention all of britt’s not so subtle comments about their apartment and how often mingyu was there.

she could tell him that she thought things were serious, that she had broken off things with someone else for him, even - she had kind of been dating someone, but it hadn’t really mattered when mingyu first kissed her. she was pretty sure no one mattered when mingyu first kissed her - the earth could have flown into the sun, and she wouldn't have noticed.

she stared out at the water, imagining the conversation she could start with him - the one where she actually explained all the things she felt for him. but even thinking about it was nerve-racking. she would probably just end up making out with him before she actually admitted to having feelings. physical things were always safer.

she worried her lip and, insteasd of posting anything, went to ian’s account - she scrolled through his photos from greece - a trip she was meant to go on for friends-mas vacation. but that was the thing, they had known each other for ages and had been best friends for way too long. their closeness always kind of ebbed and flowed based on whether one of them was dating someone. but they also talked about everything, like when she felt like things with mingyu were getting serious, she had told ian about it, mainly because she was happy. she rolled her eyes, remembering those conversations.

she went to her messages, they had talked a few weeks before about maybe going to a show together, a band they both liked was touring. her fingers hovered over the keys - she sighed and exited. she probably didn’t need to pull the rip cord just yet, she decided, because if she texted ian now, with the way she felt, she wasn't sure what would happen. even if she knew ian was probably awake.

she tried reassuring herself that she was just freaking out a bit, so she got up to go in and take a shower before anyone else was awake. she tried to stay in the shower as long as possible without being rude. she was slow drying off and throwing on fresh clothes, prolonging her time to think, she told herself.

she opened the bathroom door as quietly as she could, thinking she could tiptoe past the bed and back to isolate herself on the balcony. ideally, she could hide there and go unnoticed. but no, glancing at mingyu was enough to convince her that she should climb back into bed. she loved how was easily she was enveloped by mingyu. she tried to sleep, thinking it would make her feel better.

instead, she felt him kiss her neck, “hey,” he whispered.

“hey,” she worried that she sounded weird.

“good swim?”

she hummed in response, not trusting herself to talk. she wondered if she was losing her mind. they were both quiet for a few minutes, but to her, it felt like the quiet before a storm.

he sighed and nuzzled closer, “did you really tell people we aren’t dating?” his voice was soft against her skin.

fuck, she thought, of course someone had already seen that and messaged him. she rolled her eyes, “i mean, it’s not like we’ve actually had that conversation.”

she tried to sound normal about it, even though she had literally asked him multiple times, and he refused to answer. she just wanted him to tell her whether they were dating, or if he even wanted to be dating, but he wouldn’t - anyone else, sure, he had an answer - but her, nothing but silence. and there was the annoyance with him. back in full force.

“i know, but it’s kind of what we talked about before, right?”

she closed her eyes tightly, “no, we talked about fake dating - like me being your fake girl friend for this, not like ‘dating-dating - i'm just katie-prevention,’,” she wasn’t a fan of the revisionist version of the conversation they had had.

he sighed, “does it really matter what we call it for the weekend? we’re together all the time, right - that’s what's important,” he sounded like her dad explaining something that was just so simple, even as he ignored the real reason he had asked her, “even if you completely abandoned me last night.” he whined softly, emphasizing how he felt about her staying in their room.

“so tell everyone i had a migraine or something, and now everything is fine,” she knew she sounded more and more on edge, but really what was another lie anyway, she wondered.

he was quiet for a few moments, “y/n, you know you’re here because we’re together, which just happens to help me avoid katie - i would have asked you to come no matter what,” she could feel him squeezing her closer as he talked.

“right, i guess so, since you don’t really seem to have an issue telling her to fuck off, so i’m not sure how i’m helping with that anyway,” she knew it was a bitchy thing to say, but the words had already tumbled out of her mouth.

he groaned, “you know it’s not really about that - i mean, i told her to fuck off when she said the shit about wanting to hook up - i told her i was taken, so here i am, very happily taken,” he sounded annoyed and nonchalant all at once.

she shifted around to face him, “wait, you said someone told you about that?” she whispered, certain that she had heard him incorrectly.

he shrugged, “no, she cornered me after practice and told me we should hook up.”

“and you didn’t tell me about that super normal encounter?” she tried to keep her voice under control.

“why would i when i know it would just make you worry over nothing, plus i handled it - i told you, i wanted you to come and just relax and hang out - yeah, katie is here, but who cares? i’m here with you,” he tugged her tshirt gently as he spoke, pulling her close.

she truly had to be losing it - his ‘katie problem’ was the entire basis for him asking her.

he seemed to register her anger and got up after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, “i’m going to shower, and then we should get food,” he murmured and kissed her cheek.

she could only nod in response.

⋆˙⟡

she waited a few minutes before hopping off the bed and going out on the balcony to call ian. even if they had been on a friendship hiatus for a bit - in fact, most of her friendships had been since she had been with mingyu - she knew she could call him - it was the whole ‘basic trust’ part of their relationship. something she and mingyu didn’t seem to have.

besides, she had virtually only been around mingyu’s friends for months. she was feeling like it was starting to skew her view of the world.

“hi, love,” he answered on the first ring.

“hey,” she bit her lip, trying to think of how to ask what she wanted to ask.

“what’s up?”

she sighed, “umm, just things,” she tried to sound normal as she paced back and forth.

“erm, yeah, can i guess - does it have to do with your, uh, relationship status correction comments?” he laughed.

she nodded, as though he could see her, “yes - i - could you pick me up, please?”

it had been a while since she had called him this randomly and asked to be picked up. but that didn’t matter, he just asked for a pin drop, not an explanation. his friend would drop him off, and they would drive her suv back. she didn’t even have to ask if ‘back’ meant to his or not - she fully knew the answer. she was glad that she had done very little to unpack the night before, and that they weren’t that far from the city. she did go back out onto the balcony to watch her ‘find my’ like it was a lifeline to the world.

she couldn’t wrap her mind around what mingyu had admitted this morning compared to what he had said before. it was shocking - he had at least withheld important details from her. and she was angry. but the worst part was that he also made her feel like she was the issue. not to mention, why couldn’t he just talk to her, she wondered for the millionth time.

she needed a break. she needed to go back to her normal life. this whole thing had spun out of control, and she was deluded if she thought there was anything serious between her and mingyu.

⋆˙⟡

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮

he took a long shower, loving the seemingly endless hot water. he wasn’t ready to be awake though - he had wanted to stay in bed with y/n like normal. he wanted everything with y/n to be like normal, but everything felt off, especially her.

it was like she was pulling into herself, which only reminded him of when he first met her, and his entire existence annoyed her. there were times when she was curled against him that he couldn’t help but remember exactly how cold and distant she seemed to him when they met. and how random it felt that they had ever moved past that point - he genuinely had no idea how he had managed it, which was reason enough for him to not say certain things.

like when she asked why he had told everyone they were dating - he didn’t want to explain that he hadn’t, that they had assumed, and he couldn’t bring himself to say they were wrong because it was what he wanted. but it was embarrassing as fuck to admit to her that he wanted it as badly as he didn’t and couldn’t even ask her.

he had tiptoed around the thought for months - even the day before, he had been asking seungcheol what he could say to her. seungcheol had looked at him like he was insane, ‘you are fucking, and you’re asking me what exactly - dude you’re with her - just tell her you want some official stamp or whatever saying what a very good boy you are and she’s your owner - let her buy you a collar, but get the fuck out, you’re killing me with this.’

his thoughts were interrupted by seungcheol opening the bathroom door, “dude, if you use all of the hot water, i will actually kill you,” he proclaimed bluntly.

“yeah, yeah - if you killed me every time you promised, i would have been dead five minutes into our meeting - you need a better threat,” he still turned off the water.

seungcheol rolled his eyes, “maybe, but you still got out of the shower, right?”

“pure coincidence,” he mumbled as he dried off.

“umhm, coincidence like y/n openly saying you’re not dating and also being gone this morning?”

mingyu paused for a moment but shook his head. he was sure seungcheol was just being a dick - there was no way she would have left without saying anything. but he couldn’t help wondering exactly how long he had been in the shower.

⋆˙⟡

as much as he was shocked realizing that y/n had left, he was absolutely in no mood for the chorus of “so what did you do to fuck this up” that came from virtually everyone when he walked downstairs - he didn’t stay to eat, especially when he noticed katie looking way too perky.

he had already tried calling and messaging her - he even texted her roommate to ask, which was pointless since britt left him on read. he thought of going back to campus when she wouldn’t answer, but he could imagine that would only make things worse.

if she wanted space, then he should give her space - even if knowing that another guy had picked her up completely fried his brain. he stayed in his room the rest of the day, staring at his phone, hoping for something to change.

apparently, he seemed depressed enough that even seungcheol tried to make him feel better by leaving him some beers, mumbling something about not to freak out and that it was probably a misunderstanding.

mingyu had just groaned, “pretty sure leaving with another guy is not a misunderstanding.”

“you’re acting like she doesn’t have friends, when you know she does, even if she’s been up your ass for months - maybe she just needs a break,” seungcheol was using his reasonable voice.

mingyu glared and shook his head, “needs a break? y/n needs a break from me that involves another guy?! yeah - you are excelling at making me feel so good about about all of this - plus like that’s one of those things, there’s always guys who talk to her, even when we’re out, i can be standing right next to her, my arm around her, and still, dudes approaching,” he popped the tab on one of the beers, gulping it down angrily.

seungcheol watched him for a moment, “right, who wouldn’t want to be around you to see the neuroticism up close - dude, she’s mainly friends with guys, that’s why she was at our parties before you ever started talking - pretty sure that’s when you noticed her even and started following her from a distance like the saddest lost dog,” he laughed as he dodged the pillow mingyu threw at his head.

“fuck you - fucking lost dog? and i am not neurotic!” mingyu threw back his head, downing the rest of the beer.

“yeah, stable king over here - also the most lost, most pathetic dog - ask anyone if i’m fucking lying - you’re whipped and have been, which like, cool, taste, she’s worth it, but then somehow katie was in the picture and we all decided you were a lost cause because how do you go from like a full out 10 to like a 3.4,” he dodged another pillow, not laughing this time, “if you make me spill this”—

“what you’ll kill me? you? you’re like a foot shorter”— he didn’t even get to finish the insult because seungcheol had already hit him in the mouth.

mingyu spent the rest of the break staring at his phone and nursing his split lip. to be fair, he'd given seungcheol a black eye in the process, which had made him feel slightly better. but then everyone in their gc started asking where his owner was - vernon even edited a lost dog poster with a picture of him. it was annoyingly funny. he couldn’t even think of a good response.

he hated the ride back to campus, knowing he would see y/n in classes but having no clue what to do was definitely killing him. he was so sure of it, which was why he planned to skip classes the next day. and maybe the day after too. their schedules were way too similar. he might be out for a week. he wondered if his parents really would kill him if he flunked out - that was the standard threat, but he had never really considered it quite as hard as he did on the ride back from joshua’s lake house.

⋆˙⟡

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

a/n: they are such emotional train wrecks - i'm like kicking my feet at the insanity of these two, so yeah, hope you're finding it fun too - also cheol as the voice of reason but still roasting mingyu the entire time <33 also feel free to leave notes or asks or submit a lost dog poster for mingyu skskskskss - i do love to know what you all are vibing with /gen

♡ kat

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

story navi: [part i] [part iii]

tag list: @syluslittlecrows

if you want to be tagged, go [here] & my [master list] if you want to read more

#svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu angst #kim mingyu angst #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #kim mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu x you #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu smut #svt angst #svt smut #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines

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tutuntuntuinen · 4 months ago

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Best Fics 2024 edition

I read 57 fics last year, transferred to a traditional book pages, it's over 10 000 pages. And yes, it's all ✨Ineffable Husbands✨. I have a catalogue and I mark and rate all fics I read. And here are my favourites from 2024!

(See all the tags and warnings from AO3 page, fic names are links to AO3.)

stalwart sun, wily moon by @dustandhalos (Heist AU) Rated M, Words 369 969 My comment: They are both working with art, Aziraphale fixes the antiques, Crowley steals it. I read this 2 times last year, it is my all time favourite. I will read it again this year. Yes, it's a long one, but it is so wholesome and it has everything (not smut though). It broke my heart and fixed it later and nurtured my soul. I'm a fan.

Mon Horrible Chéri by @mrghostrat Rated E, Words 39 954 My comment: They are teachers and they go to Paris with a whole class. They hate each other! Enemies to lovers and so delicious. My favourit part is this small scene from the theatre (minor spoilers): "The air swept out of Aziraphale’s lungs and he stared blankly at the stage. He couldn’t hear a thing for all the blood suddenly rushing to his ears, boiling from the heat that exuded from Crowley’s thigh. It didn’t move, didn’t bounce. Just sat there, flushed against his own, positioned knee to knee and thigh to thigh, securely and intentionally." Like... that's... someones knee touching yours but Ghostrat makes it the whole world! Also the illustrations are soo good!

Big Name Feelings by @mrghostrat (Fandom AU) Rated E, Words 103 997 My comment: Another one from Ghostrat. "Crowley is a BNF fic writer, and Aziraphale is a lurking artist who might be just a little parasocially in love with him." This, too, is so well written and also with lots of illustrations and custom emojis.

Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost by TheOldAquarian (@darkpurpledawn) Rated G, Words 3 027 My comment: This fic is basicly a review section of Crowleys Airbnb apartment, which is in Mayfair and has a lot of house plants and frequent angel like visitor. It is HILARIOUS! "Don’t post a close-up picture of that statue of the two angels, Instagram WILL remove it." Pray For Us, Icarus by Atalan (@brightwanderer) Rated G+T, Words 67 805 (Parts 1-7) My comment: This is a heart breaking story and it's so good and well written. "For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley's flower shop. But Crowley can't let it go…"

What We Make of It (Shotgun Wedding) by @charlottemadison42 Rated E, Words 213 340 My comment: Crowley is Adam's guardian and Aziraphale is Adam's English teacher. Our heroes meet and you know what happens. But because their jobs, there are legal issues and they can't have a romantic relationship. So what to do? Panic, angst, be recless! Great story with all the kids and other characters.

Or Be Nice by @charlottemadison42 Rated E, Words 151 368 My comment: "A human AU in which Aziraphale is a bookseller, Crowley is a drummer, and they are both petty disasters in the worst/best way." Also they are neighbours. This is so FUN!! And also sweet. The pranks they make each other are delightful!

Slow Show by mia_ugly (@mia-ugly) / Podfixx (@podfixx) Rated E, Words 95 505 My comment: I have listened the podfic by Podfixx two times last year. Slow Show is a whole story with our favourite heroes who are co-stars of a popular television program. I love when the characters have a past and it shows and it affects everything they do. It makes the story go deep. I love this!

sanctuary by @moonyinpisces Rated T, Words 22 635 My comment: "Whatever’s happened, Aziraphale doesn’t like it. Change. Such a dreadful invention. (One of Crowley’s, undoubtedly)." This fic has so many things I can't even remember all the things I loved in it (I should read it again!). I think the biggest thing was that it triggered my religious trauma some how and the way Aziraphale had to deal with all the things made in the name of Christianity. And still he could love and be loved.

We Only Said Goodbye with Words, I Died A Hundred Times by ras_elased Rated E, Words 9 333 My comment: This is a hurricane of dialogue and emotions. It was (checks the catalogue) february, when I read this, so I can't remember too much (should re-read). But after reading this I was so impressed it made it's way in this list!

---

There were also other great fics! If you are interested in my lists, you can contact me. I'm very open to fic recommendation exhange! There are great fics from year 2023 which are not mentioned here, but are superfabulous!

#ineffable husbands #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation

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springsylph · 1 year ago

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WITCHING HOUR, CH. 1/3 — [18+]

(18+) - MARKED FOR EVENTUAL SMUT, MINORS DNI!

fem!reader x arthur morgan

summary: most people in the area had issues with coyotes. yours wore a cowboy hat, but you let him in anyways. tags: marked 18+ for smut in later chapters, reader has a backstory kinda (but also not kinda), referred to as lady/ma’am/etc, arthur doesn’t know how chickens work, i really don’t know my farm lore

word count: 5.5k

a/n: setting this pre-chapter 2 ish and post chapter 1, except it’s winter for realsies, Because I Can. and please no questions about chicken logistics or I Will Cry.

you can find a link to the playlist here!

read on ao3 here | masterlist

The fictitious “stranger,” by all accounts, was possessed.

Possessed by an air so overwhelming, so sure, that it incited perversity in even the most upright.

He was an outlaw, by the cut of the whispers. The story went that he’d rolled in like a heavy fog, altogether quiet and unassuming, though still carrying the foreboding quality that preceded the raising of hackles. Mothers kept watchful eyes over their daughters, and more notably, the fathers brandished their guns.

And yet—that maddening yet—the mothers seemed to care little for their own warnings, and even the fathers were envious of a man dripping with exploits they didn’t have the luxury of entertaining.

Luxuries and lack thereof aside, the fickleness of those who spoke of him had not gone entirely unnoticed; it lent no plausibility, no substance to the dream-like tales they’d crafted in their drunken stupors. The most substance you’d seen had been spewed into the shadowy corners of Valentine, pissed into not-quite pristine patches of snow, foul stench leaking out onto already foul streets before it followed you back to the farm.

It stunk.

It stunk, and it loitered, and it’d been stealing from you.

Which is exactly why—when he shows up on your rickety porch just as winter has begun to bleed out into spring—you take up the mantle of digging your loaded barrel right into his sternum.

—

The front door tremors behind you.

The stranger shifts on his feet.

You shift with him, and gloved hands inch toward the stars in surrender not long after.

Amorphous mass comes to your mind first, rather than man. You can only discern the more essential points of his appearance: the gloves, the satchel, the rifle slung over his back. Knives are stashed somewhere you can’t see—if he’s worth his salt—but everything else blends into the dark line of trees behind him. You swallow a rather painful yawn.

His hat, evidently beaten to hell and back several times over, sits low enough on his forehead to cast shadows over his features—though not low enough to completely obscure the faint outline of a face from your view. The rest of him only falls into place once you crane your head to find his eyes.

As is customary in situations concerning your immediate safety, your throat constricts, and the second yawn you feel crawling up your throat nearly succeeds in asphyxiating you.

Petty crimes would have granted him a slighter frame, but no petty crime you can think of could have afforded him the sturdy chest, the buckling of the air around him, the crooked line of his nose, clearly less cared for than his battered clothing. He’s still a little blurred—largely from a lack of sleep on your end, and the protection of his hat on his. Even so, the hard set of his gaze offers nothing other than the tale of cruelty lived and the promise of cruelty to come.

There was no doubt. This had to be him.

(You might think him handsome, if not for the fact that it’s a quarter past three in the morning.)

The first breach in his stony composure that you catch is paper thin. Fleeting. And he’s quick to recover; any indication of surprise is sequestered with a blink. The second is an awkward shifting of his stubble-shrouded jaw, and you note with a squint that his bandana still hangs feebly off the jut of his chin.

He admits defeat after a few clumsy seconds. Cracks a wicked smile, bright as the moon peeking out from behind the crown of his hat. But it falls away quickly. Somewhere in the distance a tree branch creaks, tiny shards of ice scattering to the ground and tinkling like bells.

He was calm. Entirely too calm, considering where he stood. His hands haven’t budged, and nothing in his stance hints at an intent to attack. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks more annoyed by your presence than you are by his.

You try not to think about his eyes. There’s something else in there, too. Apart from the agitation that radiates from them, that is. It lurks deep beneath the blue and wades through the slight dilation of his pupils; it urges him closer—or, is it you?—like the distance between the two of you isn’t sustained by the twitchy arms of a jittery woman holding a rifle.

But there’s an abrupt wind that fiddles with the cotton threads of your chemise, and you’re suddenly struck with the realization that no, your hunting rifle isn’t loaded, and in your haste to confront him you’d forgotten your boots and shawl.

The nighttime chill, ever the tyrant, lodges itself where the wooden boards scratch eagerly at your bare feet. You were cold, so cold that it ached, and you were tired. But it’d do you no good to show your hand this early. So like the hiss of a rattlesnake, you keep your voice low, and you keep it lethal.

The stranger is named by the venom falling from your tongue.

“You’ve got ten seconds to convince me not to unload this lead into your chest, Morgan.” You track the added prod of the gun to ground yourself, eyelids still heavy with sleep.

It doesn’t do much, as far as threats go. Morgan’s ever steady breathing still accents the now stagnant winter wind, a stark contrast to the throb of your heart striking your ribs. But a small scar, carved into the flesh of his right cheek, has made an almost imperceptible shift. The rest of his features take far more liberties with their movement—

—and he’s scowling.

Your heart strikes louder.

God, the shit you would shovel to be able to read minds. Animals have always been more your speed; people were a hassle—far too unpredictable, and they tended to reap fewer rewards.

In your mind's eye, Arthur lies silently amongst the fallen snow, red unfurling behind him like wings. You’d hate to have to kill him, you really would. But there was nothing more dangerous than indecisiveness: it killed, and often relentlessly.

Only, you’ve been staring too long. It’s long enough to rouse Morgan from whatever state he’d been in before you’d spoken. He’s smart enough to keep his palms facing you, and he dips his head with the same mildness that one might use to soothe a startled mare. The scowl is tamped down, smile returning to him like water running through a scraggly creek.

“Evenin’, Miss.” He drawls.

And it works. You hate that it works. There’s a dull heat that seizes your lungs at the low timbre of his voice, something akin to fire.

No. No, nothing like it. It was more like the cheap whiskey you’d downed that first night working as a farmhand, all those months ago. It’d numbed your tongue, tumbled down your throat like sun-warmed stone, and simmered in your stomach. You hadn’t dared take another swig after that. Too dangerous. But it’s easy enough, passing your shudder off as a trick of the cold and cocking your head incredulously.

“Showing up uninvited, and you can’t do me the courtesy of knowing my name?” One push of the rifle sends him back with surprising ease—away from the cabin, and away from that damned moonlight. “Ma’am will do you just fine,” you spit.

His smile fractures. Not enough to truly frighten, but enough to make your fingers clench. “You talk to all your guests like that, Ma’am?”

You steel yourself. “Only the sneaks.”

At this, Morgan stills. Shuts his eyes.

Did he really think you wouldn’t notice?

The farm had more issues with coyotes than crooks; that’s what you’d been hired to take care of, more or less. Your employers—the Campbells—were getting on in their years, and were in desperate need of someone to help keep watch during the nights. So imagine the surprise when you’d found not a coyote, but a wanted man sliding through the shadows.

It’d angered you, that first time he’d gotten away. You’d only recognized him long after he’d left. But after that night, you’d made a show of firing off rounds into the nearby woods and roaming the perimeter of the grounds under the guise of a late-night hunt.

From what you knew, he hadn’t come back to steal, but you knew you’d seen him lingering. Felt him watching. Waiting for something—but you’d made sure that every pop of your rifle drove him further and further from whatever it was that he’d been aiming for. And now Arthur Morgan is here.

He furrows his eyebrows, purses his lips, and they disappear for a moment when he goes to wet them before he speaks again, a little less amused. “Now you know I mean no offense—”

“No offense? Well, I’d kill to see what you and your ilk consider offensive.”

The wind slams the front door shut.

“My ilk?”

You wonder if it’d been your goal all along, trying to rile him up like this. Accusations slide out of your mouth and into the night air far too easily for it not to be. But the thought of anything other than catching him red-handed occupying your head unnerves you, sending you another two steps forward and into the powdery snow.

“Jesus, woman! Alright, alright.” Morgan’s eyes finally leave you, darting between where your feet dig into the cold ground and the muzzle of the gun pressed to his chest. He slumps his shoulders and looks up to the sky, still an ugly grey-black from the thin dusting of snow the night before.

“Look,” he starts, hands fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I don’t mean no harm. I swear it. I’m—just give me a minute to explain, will you? One minute, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

There’s a please somewhere in there, left unsaid yet still ever so loud. You think it might have left him in the puff of breath that still hangs above your heads; hot and heavy in his mouth, but turned to nothing but vapors once it misses its chance to solidify.

You eye him warily. This could be over and done with in a matter of seconds, and you might be able to knock that godawful mustache clean off of Sheriff Malloy’s face. You kill him—or turn him in so long as he didn’t bleed out, whichever came first—and get whatever bounty was nailed to his head. Use the money to get out. Get your freedom. Stop biding your time, and get revenge.

And yet.

“…You lying to me, Morgan?”

His shoulders straighten out, suddenly very tense. “‘Course not. You think me the lyin’ sort?”

Your voice flattens. “I figured that much was obvious.”

“Ouch, lady. Not willing to pull your punches for little old me?”

“You’d rather the lady use the gun?”

“Neither, thank you. And, speaking of which–” His chest deflates a bit, putting space between the two of you without having to step back. “—quit swingin’ that thing around. You’ll take someone’s eye out.”

Exhaustion mounting, you lower your rifle slowly. You keep your eyes trained on a pebble that’s escaped the snowfall relatively unscathed, not trusting yourself to look anywhere else. Conceding with a sniff, you toss your head toward the front door. It’s quiet, now.

“Get in, before I change my mind—and no funny business, neither. Guns, knives, whatever else you’re hiding, drop ‘em. Right here.”

Too groggy to note the stalling of movement, you wait for the clinking of metal to stop. His boots retreat from your peripheral far more reluctantly than you expect. There’s a telltale groaning of wood, and you turn to find Morgan gazing down at you with an outstretched hand from where he’s hopped onto the porch. He murmurs with a reverence that you’re sure is misplaced, so quiet that you have to watch his lips to catch even a smidgen of what he says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

This was a game to him. You knew games. And so when you go to place your hand in his it’s to eye him down, back him into whatever corner would hold him and keep him there till you knew why he’d spent the last month haunting your lodgings like a ghost.

Calloused fingers wrap around your hand like a vice, and when he’s guiding you and your icy feet up the stairs it strikes you that maybe—just maybe—your assessment of your situation had been far too impetuous. Arthur’s touch is surprisingly clinical, but even through the leather of his gloves, it was warm. Too warm.

Ghosts weren’t warm. Or, at least you didn’t think they were. And Morgan, looking like the very paragon of the West, all bright eyes and honeyed words, had given you a glimpse of something far too beguiling not to investigate. It’s when he presses the back of his free hand to your wind-bitten cheeks that you wonder what your father might think.

“Chilled, right to the bone.” It isn’t so much a mutter as it is a rumble, reverberating somewhere deep in his throat and traveling up to where the two of you have made contact. You’re avoiding his eyes again, but you’re close enough now to be able to see his muscles working his neck.

His smell overtakes you much like the cold has. The freshness of the pine needles still stuck to his coat makes up most of what you’re able to distinguish. A little bit of horse, too—he’d ridden here. Where exactly he’d hitched his horse was a mystery. But with the proximity of his sleeve to your nose, you can make out the faintest hints of a potent musk. It’s everywhere: in your nose, your mouth, under your skin. Every inhale turns your muscles into piteous liquid. There’s no hiding your shudder, this time.

Morgan suddenly yanks his hand back as if scorched, and schools whatever expression he’d been wearing prior into one of indifference. He hums. Frowns.

“Let’s…uh, get you inside.”

You offer a tight nod and turn away, but Morgan is quick to the draw; he whispers a quick “pardon me,” and goes to retrieve the weapons he’d dropped in your stead.

Oh. You’d forgotten. It seems he’d forgotten too, brushing the mixture of dirt and snow away and mumbling something about keeping his guns warm. You’re left standing dazed on the porch, skin still blistering from where his fingers had met your skin.

Morgan has the decency to look at least a little troubled when he returns. He places what he’s collected into your arms before opening the front door, and gestures for you to enter. You offer one last look to the moon before following him inside.

Your judgment on Morgan—Arthur, now—was still up for debate. But your punishment for rushing to catch him had been doled out almost immediately.

For your feet, a numbness that the fireplace had been bullied into chipping away at. Your hands are still tight from the cold, and they sit tucked underneath your thighs with the added protection of a few blankets that’d been placed over your shoulders. Your eyes flick over from the fire to Arthur, and your chest tightens.

He’s found his seat across from you: coat and satchel on the back of a chair he’s pulled from the dining table, big hands tapping away absentmindedly at his knees. With the coat set aside, there’s nothing to hide the first few buttons of his shirt that hang open, pitch black and rolled up to his forearms to account for the warmth of the fireplace. His hat remains, hair still tucked away and settled at the nape of his neck.

You’d both been sitting in silence for the last half hour, despite Arthur’s insistence on “one minute,” letting the cold of the outdoors thaw out before saying anything that might get the rifle pulled again. You did gain a bit of satisfaction at the slight tinge of red in Arthur’s ears; it seemed the cold had gotten to him, too.

You watch as his eyes wander over the furnishings of your cabin. Thankfully, the door to your bedroom is only slightly ajar, and the knot in your chest lessens. It wasn’t often (or ever) that you had visitors over, which meant that most of your things were tucked haphazardly into corners or set on kitchen counters.

The Campbells—generous as they already were—had insisted you take up residence in a cabin on their property that once belonged to a daughter of theirs. She’d long since moved out, but the light in their eyes at the thought of it being occupied again was undeniable. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. And Arthur was seeing all of it.

“Don’t get too comfy.” You frown. “…Arthur.” He beams, and suddenly there’s something incredibly interesting lingering right by your foot.

His name still feels foreign when it leaves you. At first, you’d taken it as a show of good faith; he’d sworn to keep his mud-caked boots off of your rug in exchange for keeping his feet from becoming bullet-ridden by the time the sun came up. Arthur, feeling like he’d gotten the shitty end of the stick, had joked that you may as well call him by his first name. The last person with the guts to threaten him with a shotgun had, so what was one more?

It was a weak threat, if one at all. You knew, and he knew, that you were just about the only person this side of the Grizzlies who was vaguely aware of who he was. You’d seen it in his face when you’d called him by name. It’d be an insult to call it fear; an expectation of an inconvenience would be more accurate.

Luckily for him, you didn’t care. Not right now, at least. Imposing as he was, you refused to be cowed into going along with whatever it was that he'd planned.

Your heel messes with the leg of your chair. “Don’t you go forgetting why I brought you here in the first place.”

“Not quite sure if I’d use that wording—“

“Can it, Morgan.”

His jaw clicks shut this time, but he’s still got that goofy grin smeared onto his face when you chance a peek at him. You’ll let it slide, for now. You’ve stalled long enough.

“So. My eggs. You gonna tell me, or do I need to start pulling teeth?”

“No need,” Arthur assures, “shouldn’t be stickin’ your pretty little fingers in just anybody’s mouth, Ma’am.”

An outlaw and a flirt, to boot. Wonderful. You’re wondering how long it might take to chuck the nearest inanimate object at him when he pipes up again.

“You piss in somebody’s cigarette box, lady?”

“Did I piss—Morgan, quit it!”

This seems to reign him in a bit, and his smile dips.

“I’ll be frank, since you asked so kindly.” Arthur leans back in his chair, flexes his palms. “You had people tailin’ you.”

You quirk a brow. Ah, that’s right. He didn’t know, couldn’t have. But just as you attempt to explain, Arthur holds out a hand to stop you and shakes his head.

“Killers.”

The hand fussing with the material of your blanket falters.

“...I beg your pardon?”

“Hired guns, Ma’am. Out for you. You’re real…fortunate, I’d been passing by when I was.” A rueful look clouds his face. “Not much to hire once I was through with ‘em, though.”

The quiet that follows isn’t entirely unfamiliar. He’s an outlaw, you muse. Things like this are to be expected. But it doesn’t occur to you to ask who they were, what they looked like, what they wanted. Because Arthur didn’t know, didn’t need to know, and you aren’t sure if you want him here when you wrap your mind around the sobering fact that your long-held suspicions now bear fruit. So, you settle for the obvious.

“You kill ‘em?”

His jaw twitches. “Nothin’ gets past you, Ma’am.”

“...‘Suppose I should be thanking you, then.”

“Got my thanks when I checked their pockets.”

“But—”

Arthur gives a grunt of protest.

Jackass.

Though your concerns about theft were long gone, it doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about this any more than you do, so you do your best to set the conversation back on track.

“Well, uh…the eggs, then?”

The tension in his jaw lessens. Arthur unfurls a long leg, digs the heel of his boot out in front of him, and rocks his foot back and forth.

“You know these winters. I can tell you do—despite all the…” he trails off, nods the brim of his hat toward your newly cultivated relationship with the fireplace, and you flush. “So, I uh, started out sneaking a few off, along with some other things for my people back at camp. Snagged some extra rations. Kept an eye on you. Two birds, one stone.”

“So it wasn’t just the eggs you’d been stealing, then?”

“It’d behoove me to tell the truth and shame the devil, Ma’am. Not that he and I are unacquainted.”

So that was a yes.

The part about “keeping an eye” on you is tacked on rather reluctantly, but at the mention of camp, your brows raise. It was true, then. The tales you’d heard during your trips to Valentine, the new faces you’d noticed in corners and back alleys, they were all real.

There was a time when you thought you might be able to find your place sleeping under the stars, free to do as you wished and go where you pleased, so long as the law kept their greasy mitts to themselves. But circumstances had seen to it that your dream went unfulfilled.

You muster up what you hope is a sympathetic smile, and Arthur takes it stiffly.

Even so, something else with his phrasing catches your attention.

“Hold on now, you said ‘started.’ There something else you’re not telling me?”

A hand, previously settled on his knee, finds its way to the back of his neck and rubs.

“Uh, y’see,” he starts, looking damn near ready to wring his own neck, and you have to laugh, because what on God’s green earth could have Arthur Morgan this bothered? But instead of finishing his sentence, he turns his gaze toward the small sliver of moonlight coming in through the curtains and poses a question:

“You know anything about chickens?”

You blink.

“Arthur Morgan,” your eyes shut, and your mouth hangs open. “I work on a farm.“

“That you do.”

“And you’re asking me if I know about chickens?”

“That I am.”

He’s looking mighty sheepish; his hands return to their places on his knees and begin to tap again, with the added scrunch of a nose. You stifle a snort and oblige him.

“Yes, I’m well versed in chickens. Now tell me what the hell is up.”

And tell he did. Turns out, one of the eggs he’d snatched had somehow been fertilized, and hatched. Arthur, of all people, had been far too mortified to go and ask one of his own for help, so he’d spent the last two months slinking around to find out if his luck might earn him another to keep the one he already had some company.

He’d named it and everything, so eating it (Marlene, he corrects gruffly) was completely off the table. By the time he’s finished his story, you’ve spent an exorbitant amount of energy fighting off several fits of laughter, and you’re fighting off your ninth when Arthur interrupts.

He leans forward, as if to confirm something, then settles himself back into his chair once he finds what he’s looking for. “You ain’t from around here, are you.” It’s a statement when it leaves Arthur’s mouth, not a question.

Observant. Observant, and deflective.

Chewing at the inside of your cheek, you pocket the uneasy feeling in your chest for later.

“Long story,” you offer. And a difficult one, at that. It wasn’t one you liked to revisit.

Arthur replies almost instantly. “Shoot.” For a moment his face pinches, like he’s dropped his last cent down a splinter-ridden nook he can’t reach. He deliberates, for a bit. But the money is long gone now. “Got a full audience right here,” he continues, a tad slower. “I’ve got…time. Why the hell not?”

There’s no smile, but there’s a genuine curiosity that creeps into his voice. It wafts over the crackling of the fire, blows fresh wind underneath wings long forgotten.

This wasn’t good. Not one bit.

You cast a skeptical glance toward the bottle of whiskey on the table. It’d been set out on instinct when you’d let him in, a habit formed from a time long gone. Would Arthur want some, maybe? He seemed like the type. And you weren’t too pissed about the eggs now, anyways. So you wrap a blanket around yourself, stand, and turn to the cupboards to find a glass. But something stops you from making it over, and you instead choose to wrap a hand around the bottle and offer it to him.

If Arthur is as confused as you are, he doesn’t show it. He mutters a word of thanks as he takes the proffered bottle. But you don’t miss the way his eyes rake over your bare legs like hot coals. Or the slight twitch of his fingers—now free of their gloves—at the light brushing of your hand over his as you pass the bottle to him.

You follow the bobbing of his throat for what feels like a lifetime as he takes down gulp after gulp. Amber liquid slips from the corner of his mouth; it catches the firelight on its trek down, and steals your air along with it when Arthur moves to wipe it away with the back of his hand.

It startles you, how quickly you’ve become accustomed to cataloging his movements. You’ve met him before, you’re almost certain of it now. If not in the fields here, then maybe somewhere in Valentine, or the woods. But somewhere. He felt too familiar to be new, too invigorating. A part of you wants to pinch yourself for giving in so easily. Maybe…maybe the folks in town had been right? Maybe Arthur Morgan was possessed? It was either that, or you were an idiot. You sincerely hoped it was the former.

The sound of the glass bottle hitting the table is what snaps you out of your trance. Blinking rapidly, you chance a peek at his eyes again, only to find them peeking right back. You do your best not to turn away. That thing you’d seen lurking out on the front porch is still there, submerged in the depths of his pupils. Still waiting.

You pull the top off of the bottle, take a quick swig, and return to your chair with an inhale and newfound resolve in tow.

Blabbering seems to come unfortunately easy with Arthur. He sits, silent and attentive throughout the entire retelling—save for the occasional grunt of approval, disapproval, whichever was appropriate. You tell him of your mother, young and hungry, and how she’d made herself available to the highest bidder—your father. Some wealthy businessman from God knows where. Twenty years your mother’s senior, it’d been no secret what exactly he’d gotten out of their short-lived union: a wild young thing to look after his progeny and keep his bed warm.

He was nice enough, for a time. Or at least nice enough for your mother to be able to tolerate. But something had sent her fleeing from that big, big house. She’d kept you in her arms and her heart till you’d found somewhat of a safe haven in the Grizzly Mountains.

“Safe” had been a bit of a stretch, though. Anyone with half a brain knew exactly what the Grizzlies were like. Arthur agreed. But your mother had been raised there, just as you would be, if only for a little while. You’re only able to remember a short split of time—just before your mother passed, and before your father had come to take you away from her.

By then your mother had already taught you most of what you’d needed to survive: reading, writing, hunting, flattery, the works. The only thing she’d left out was how to survive without her.

Your father had come to find you only a few days after, bearing news of his intentions to turn you into a “proper lady.” He made no mention of your mother or where she’d been buried.

Polite society hadn’t taken too kindly to a daughter hailing from unsavory origins, and it was safe to say that you hadn’t taken too kindly to polite society either. So, you’d spent the last decade or so making your father’s life a living hell and warding off any potential suitors.

But it became clear stunt after outrageous stunt that he had no intention of cutting ties. Rather than cutting you off, he’d settled for the next best thing: manual labor. Your father was old friends (though “friends” was a bit dubious) with the Campbells, and deemed it an appropriate enough punishment for your wrongdoings. He’d relied on your aptitude for hunting to pawn you off on them, and with the help of some expertly feigned resistance, you’d gotten him to plant you exactly where you’d wanted to be.

Away, and alone.

“Threw a wrench in my plans, but…life here has been peaceful, I reckon.” You pick at the beds of your fingernails, head bowed.

Peaceful.

Peaceful and quiet, save for the occasional moo.

Though, now that you thought about it, you’d have to tally it up to several wrenches if you counted the hitmen. But you could open that barrel of horse shit later.

The creaking of wood alerts you to a shift in Arthur’s positioning, and his voice barrels down at you from the ceiling; he must be looking up.

“You don’t seem all too ‘at peace,’ if you ask me.”

“I ain’t ask you.”

“Tuh.”

The two of you fall into yet another bubble of silence. It’s comfortable enough, though still laced with the slightest bit of awkwardness.

You couldn’t get a read on Arthur. Just about every decision he’d made tonight—or told you he’d made—had been a contradiction. It didn’t make a lick of sense. But now that you’ve had more time to ruminate, it didn’t seem like it made much sense to him, either. His body language divulges as much.

The quiet agitates you, now. Itches. You need to know more. Understand more. But you can’t do that without retracting your fangs and reigning in your apprehension. Finger beds picked raw, you test the waters.

“Not at peace, hm?” You mutter. “…How you figure?”

You hear him shrug. “Dunno.”

Silence.

You wait for him to continue, but it’s not until you look up at him that you realize he’s been waiting for you to look back. Arthur’s voice cuts through the silence once you can meet his eyes without squirming.

“Met enough people to know who’s livin’, and who ain’t.” He crosses an ankle over his knee, and gives an exhale when he puts his hands behind his head. “I’m in no place to be dealing out life advice, but you seem awfully dead, Miss.”

“Ma’am,” you correct.

Arthur makes a face, and you bark out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all. Some stranger he was, telling you off like this.

Your eyes crinkle, smile working its way from the inside out. “Takes one to know one, I assume?”

He blinks at you. “Yeah. Yeah, somethin’ like that, I suppose.”

More silence.

“Do you think—”

“I ought to be heading out, now.” The dream is cut short. Arthur is standing suddenly, intercepting before you have the chance to say something incredibly, incredibly stupid. He tugs on his coat, fingers closing the buttons with frightening efficiency before he gathers up his gun and whatever else he’s brought with him and heads for the door.

You're scrambling up out of your chair before your brain has a chance to process.“Arthur,” you say, half to him and half to the floor, “Arthur, wait a damn minute!”

The spurs on his boots cease in their clinking. He’s got one hand wrapped around the doorknob, squeaky and now half-turned.

“…Got business to take care of.”

“At three in the morning?”

He glances at the small pocket watch you’d left open on the table. “Half past four, actually.”

“Didn’t realize you could tell time.”

He hums.

And Arthur stares at you for a moment, unabashedly. It’s unreadable at first. But then scars are shifting, and he’s leveling you with a look so bitter that it nearly has you reaching for your rifle again.

“Goodbye, Ma’am.” Arthur waves a noncommittal hand at your feet as he turns the knob. “And…go and see about those feet of yours, will you?”

He sweeps out the door.

He’s left it open.

It’s only after the faint sound of hoofbeats is nothing more than a whisper that you realize he isn’t in the cabin anymore. But somewhere between the shutting of the door and the hanging of your rifle, the faint impression of his parting words is pressed into your palm.

You look down, a bright sting and the sight of red specks on the floorboards making themselves known rather insistently.

“Oh.”

—

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#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #I literally put off two essays to write this #plz be kind this wasn’t supposed to be this long #witching hour

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holybibly · 25 days ago

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Since everyone is so excited about the lawsuit, I wanted to clarify a few things.

Firstly, all the comments that were left about me being a cult leader and all that, about me lying and all that, is called cyberbullying. This offensive, rude situation caused me to have an uncontrollable panic attack and I had to take time (hide behind my followers) to come to my senses. I never talk about my problems because I don't think it's a topic for discussion on the blog, but if everyone started talking about how traumatised they were by my stories. And although it's off topic, at the moment I live in a country where there is military action and I can tell you that you have no idea of the psychological trauma and experiences that I and my family have gone through. But that is not what I want to talk about.

And technically, it is legal to sue over this. I am not saying that I will, but I want anyone who does this to know that it is possible, and that you should be held accountable for such things.

Also, to all those who have been sending anonymous abuse to my inbox, I would like to inform you that I have filed a complaint with the tumblr admins for abusive language.

The same goes for the post and all the malicious and slanderous comments about me on the blog @moilele (you can delete the post, I have screenshots anyway) and all the comments under my post are also considered offensive. I have also filed a complaint against them.

If you think you are invisible by posting anonymously, the tumblr administrator can track the message.

Please note that I am not doing this because it is petty and childish, I just want to show everyone that even such insignificant things can cause irreparable damage.

Based on my age, tags, permissions and other details, I can provide irrefutable evidence of this. Note that I immediately offered to block my blog and move on, but someone felt it necessary to continue to force the situation and this is what happened.

When I'm ready, we'll get back to discussing serious matters and changes to the blog. You know, I always tell you that if you feel uncomfortable, if you have any doubts about reading or anything, then block my blog and live an easy life.

But you deliberately go further and then accuse me of hurting you in some way with my stories. But have you ever thought about how your nasty comments hurt and traumatise writers? It seems like you only care about yourself, but I want to change that and protect all writers who are being attacked for no reason. I wasn't joking about the evidence, and believe me, I will make this all public if this situation continues.

Someone will say this is so juvenile, you are no more than fifteen, you bitch (isn't that how my anonymous well-wisher put it?) and I will say this is fair and I have the right to defend myself.

I hope we have put this matter to rest once and for all.

#sugar and sin #bunny questions

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luvhughes43 · 3 months ago

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lets go baby! | jack hughes

context: a stranger online claims to be jacks gf so he hard launches his relationship

sabrina posted 1 day ago !

liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, ynbratt, and liked by 879 others

sabrina let's go baby ! ❤️⚡️

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jackhughes You’re a ⭐️

jackhughes Love you

sabrina *I love you (i love u too)

liked by jackhughes

blake.hughes alright u guys are cute... i approve

user81 cutie !!! imy

user01 oh red is DEFINITELY your colour babe😍

liked by jackhughes

jackhughes just posted !

liked by blake.hughes, rosemary, _quinnhughes, and 209 113 others

jackhughes no need to pretend⚡️

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_quinnhughes congrats guys!

sabrina 💘

user67 oh hes madddd

user91 shutting the girls down !

user23 okay so you've got a gf but whats up with that crusty dog?

user07 jizzys got himself a gf💔

user03 need her bad

user44 oh okay this is the worst day of my life

nhlwagsource

liked by luvhughes43, brookedavis, and 1 781 others

nhlwagsource 🚨 BREAKING | new jersey devils jackhughes has hard launched his relationship and fans are speculating that his girlfriend is sabrina ! sabrina was spotted with blake hughes at the lake house last summer (see slide 3), and her profile matches that of the girl jack posted on his insta. jack's caption: "no need to pretend" also alludes to #that girl on tiktok pretending to be his girlfriend... clearly he's not too happy about that.

💭 what do you guys think of the couple? we at nhlwagsource wish them nothing but the best!

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user36 tagging her when she's a private acc is crazy work...

user59 theyre so cute im so obsessed

user12 jack dedicating a whole post to her... i fear hes in love

user41 i wouldnt be surprised if they have a kid in the next couple years tbh

user27 lmaoo youre crazy

user94 i personally love them !! sabrina seems so nice and jack has literally never dedicated a whole post to someone so he clearly sees a future with her

user47 i think jacks comment was unnecessary tbh... clearly he has a problem with girls pretending to date him but why he would want to highlight that when posting his actual gf… seems crazy to me

user18 theyre both in their early 20s so while the comment is kind of petty, im sure they both just thought it was funny. nothings ever that serious

user32 who cares?

user08 3/4 hughes being taken... LORDD let me have luke

user51 if blake approves i approve

user19 sisters best friend to girlfriend... classic

user25 the way that blakes dating one of his best friends too... you cant make this up😭🙏

user78 are the hughes only allowed to date within their one friend group? what is going on

#sweetheart au #jack hughes insta edit

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lucky-clover-gazette · 5 months ago

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kings rising highlights & annotations

chapters 16, 17, 18, & 19

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Now those sentries flanked them. They were a permanent independent military garrison, the finest chosen from each of the provinces with scrupulous neutrality to serve a two-year term. They lived in the complex of supporting outbuildings, filling the barracks and the gymnasiums, where they slept and woke and trained with immaculate discipline. It was a soldier’s greatest honour to compete in the yearly games and be chosen from the best to serve here, to uphold the strict laws.

this feels like a parallel to akielion slavery, in a way? these are supposed to be some of the most honorable and strong people in the society, yet they’re subjugated in much the same way as slaves

‘You were jealous.’ ‘My father said that I had to learn to lead, not to follow.’

ongoing “kingdom or this” theme, choosing between being a indomitable ruler and being a vulnerable human person. damen has been on both extremes, a prince and a slave, and he needs to find something in the middle.

‘That’s Kydippe, she was Queen before Euandros. She took the throne from King Treus and averted civil war.’

hooray for women!

‘He looks like you.’ Thestos was carved in outline, holding a giant piece of masonry aloft. Laurent touched his bicep, then touched Damen’s. Damen let out a breath.

laurent is treasuring the last few moments he has with damen :(

‘These petulant remarks have never suited you. The mannerisms of a boy sit so unattractively on a man.’

not going to be a lot of analysis here. we all know how fucked up this guy is. in a way, the regent is the simplest character in the entire series.

‘You know, Nicaise really thought you would help him. He didn’t know your nature, that you’d abandon a boy to treason and death out of petty spite. Or was there some other reason you killed him?’

says the regent, who killed nicaise

'After all, you are an Akielon. There must be satisfaction to be had in getting the Prince of Vere under you. He is unpleasant, but that would barely register when you are rutting.'

“you like it simple” weaponized against damen

“you like it simple” weaponized against damen ‘He has freed Jokaste, because he knows that I would never trade a tactical advantage for a whore.'

there’s that misogyny we heard about

'And he has come here to give himself up for the child. He doesn’t even care whose child it is. He just knows it’s in danger,'

nicaise. just nicaise

‘He has knelt for me.’ The Regent said it in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, so that it didn’t penetrate at first. It was just a collection of words.

“it was just a collection of words” i have a feeling that this is how damen has avoided figuring it out sooner. intentionally not making inferences or connections, even if the words are being said. it’s similar to the way he probably suspected laurent of knowing the truth about him, but disregarded indicative phrases or foreshadowing. but now he has no choice but to understand.

In the panting silence of the hall, one of the kneeling sentries rose and began to speak. ‘You have drawn your sword in the Kingsmeet.’ Damen’s eyes locked on the Regent’s. Nothing mattered but a promise. ‘I’m going to kill you.’ ‘You have broken the peace of the hall.’ Damen said, ‘The moment you laid your hands on him, you were dead.’ ‘The laws of the Kingsmeet are sacred.’ Damen said, ‘I will be the last thing that you see. You will go to the ground with my blade in your flesh.’ ‘Your life is forfeit to the King,’ said the sentry.

really good writing here. love how it alternates between damen’s single-minded anger and the situation around him, using only the dialogue instead of environmental or emotional prose

Unlike Damen, it had only taken one of the Kingsmeet soldiers to restrain Laurent, his arms forced behind his back, his breathing shallow.

“the weaker man”

‘No,’ said Damen. ‘You heard what he did.’ Roughened, it came out of him. ‘You all heard him, are you going to let him do this?’

i think it’s really interesting and ironic that the people enabling this are supposedly the most honorable in the country. damen has given vere so much shit for its debauchery throughout the series and has regarded akielos as morally pure because it “treats its slaves well.” he’s figured out that he was wrong about most of this already, but this might put the final nail in the coffin. the worst thing imaginable, to the point that damen actively avoided entertaining the notion of it, is not condemned by the akielon justice system. the law protects the regent and punishes damen here, even though the regent is a terrible person and damen is doing the right thing. also cool how this foreshadows attorney damen.

‘Come, nephew,’ said the Regent. They went.

don’t need to analyze laurent here. i’ve already done it in chapters that foreshadow this moment. just going to quarantine it to the page and move on

‘I know you felt something for him. If you are going to be sick, do it quickly. We have to go. There will already be men coming to find us.’

shut the fuck up nikandros

Through the haze he heard Jord’s voice. ‘You left him? You saved your own life and left him with his uncle?’

shut the fuck up jord

Jord said, ‘You coward, you left him to—’ The words were abruptly cut off as Nikandros took hold of Jord and slammed him back against the wagon. ‘You will not speak that way to our King.’

shut the fuck up nikandros and jord

Released, Jord was panting slightly. ‘He wouldn’t have come back alone. If you think that, you don’t know him.’

damen never said that he did

What would Laurent do? He knew what Laurent would do. Stupid, mad Laurent had sacrificed himself. He had used the last piece of leverage he had: his own life. But Damen’s life was valueless to the Regent.

and laurent’s life is valueless to laurent. but clearly not to jord or damen or paschal or loyse or the soldiers or victims whose lives he has protected

He felt the limits of his own nature, which too easily swung to anger, and the need—stymied by circumstance—to bring about the Regent’s death. All he wanted was to take up his sword and cut a path into Ios.

he likes it simple. this isn’t simple. so what’s the opposite of simple, then? what would laurent do? what is the approach that ISN’T just ripping the grate out of the wall? guess we're about to see.

‘He thinks he’s alone,’ he said.

for a long time, yeah. until he got stuck with you. which he hated at first, because he felt an irrepressible connection to his worst enemy (the mutual moral arbitration and “yes and”ing of books 1 & 2), but ended up treasuring your connection so deeply that he made himself alone again to save you.

It was what he liked, public humiliation coupled with private chastisement, his reality validated by all those around him.

1) parallel to kastor sending damen to be a slave 2) akielion slavery except it’s seen as honorable which is somehow even more humiliating than forced submission, and there’s nothing to chastise bc they’re groomed to not have opinions. but spot on with “reality validated by all those around him”—the strong over the weak, as a sign of status and power. it’s all the same.

‘You’re right, I can’t fight my way in.’ From the beginning he had been a tool, a weapon to be used against Laurent. The Regent had used him to hurt, to unsettle, to shake Laurent’s control; and finally, to destroy him. ‘I know what I have to do,’ he said.

damen is going to play this veretian game of mock trial and win

He expected to be challenged at the outer gates by soldiers warned and wary, on the lookout for him. But perhaps they were on the lookout for Damianos, the arrogant young King at the head of his army, not a single man in an old worn cloak, a hood that came down over his face, and sleeves to hide his arms. No one stopped him.

this entire thing is a long-awaited subversion of damen to be more like laurent. all the things he hated about laurent, claimed not to understand in previous books, he’s now embodying in this plan, because he understands laurent and why he’s developed these mechanisms in the first place. and he can finally see how coming at issues with this sort of deceptive, restrained, and calculated approach can be extremely effective, especially when everyone—including laurent—expects the opposite from him.

laurent, despite everything, does not expect damen to be able to solve this problem. he can’t just throw a sword at it or rip it out of a wall. damen likes it simple. but what laurent doesn’t understand is that damen loves laurent more than he likes it simple, and that means he’s willing to endure complication in order to protect him. something that laurent has gotten very good at doing for others, but wishes for no one to return. it’s a good thing, then, that damen has never done the things laurent has wished for him to do.

And when he turned the first corner, he saw the palace as everyone saw it: disorientingly, from the outside. There, small as specks, were the high open windows and long marble balconies that invited the sea air in during the evening to cool the baking stone. To the east was the long, columned hall and airy upper quarters. To the north, the King’s quarters, and the high-walled gardens, with their shallow steps and winding paths and the myrtle trees planted for his mother. Memory was sudden; long days training on the sawdust, evenings in the hall, his father presiding from the throne, himself walking those marble halls with surety and unconcern, an unreal former self, who spent evenings in the great hall laughing with friends, being served as he wished by slaves.

he is finally approaching his home as a man and not a king, and understanding how the privilege he’s always felt was an entitlement resting on the backs of people subjugated to maintain it

A yapping dog cut across his path. A woman with a parcel under her arm jostled him, then shouted at him in southern dialect to watch where he was going.

dogs don’t care that you’re the prince. an oblivious random person running an errand doesn’t care that you’re the prince. no wonder laurent mainly has gotten along with animals and oblivious random people in these books. both damen and laurent have been held captive by their own roles as people in power, and they can free each other by unifying the kingdoms and changing what being a person in power MEANS.

He kept walking. He passed the outer homes, with their small windows of differently sized rectangles and squares. He passed the outer storehouses, the granaries, a stone revolving on a millbase, pushed by oxen. He passed the shouts of a dozen market stalls that were all selling fish, pulled from the ocean in the pre-dawn. He passed the traitor’s walk, thick with flies. He scanned the tops of the spikes, but the dead were all dark-haired. A burst of a cavalcade came trotting out on horses. He stepped to the side; they trotted past him, red-cloaked and regimented, without a second glance. It was all uphill in the city, because the palace was built on the peak, with the sea at its back. He realised as he walked that he had never done this on foot before. When he reached the palace square, a feeling of disorientation came over him again, because he only knew the square from the opposite angle: as a view from the white balcony, where his father used to emerge sometimes to raise a hand and address the crowd.

after a lifetime of limiting his own perspective to maintain systems of power and his illusion of personal peace, damen finally watches the road. and the palace—literally held above the rest of akielos to be his home as rightful king—doesn’t feel like home anymore.

‘Halt,’ said the guard. ‘State your business, traveller.’ He waited, until he had the eyes of everyone near the gate on him, then he let the hood of his cloak fall back. He heard the shocked murmurs, the outbreak of sound as he spoke, his words, clear and unmistakable. ‘I am Damianos of Akielos, and I surrender to my brother.’

starting out the laurentian problem solving speedrun by literally doing what laurent did with the regent (kastor is thematically damen’s regent). honestly genius, both on damen’s part and pacat’s.

If it worked, if he was in time—how long could a trial last? How long could Laurent stall for time?

damen assuming that laurent would even bother to stall… i don’t think that’s how laurent works, given his internal narrative during the torture scene. in that scene, he persisted because he knew that the survival and victory of people he cared about hinged on his survival. in this scene, laurent believes that the survival and victory of people he cares about hinges on his death, so it’s pointless to put up a fight. (“objection!” says damen)

He needed them to take him into the hall to face Kastor. He had given up his freedom for that single chance, gambling everything.

kastor, who had made damen a slave in the first place. damen understands the exact kind of cruelty kastor is capable of, his overwhelming desire to make himself the stronger man over damen. he finally accepts that this cruelty and victimhood exist because he saw it in the regent and laurent. even if he’s unwilling to admit it about kastor and himself, he knows. and that’s why he came up with this plan in the first place.

He sat under guard on one of the low seats and didn’t scream in frustration, as time passed, and then more time.

classic damen understatement <3

One was an officer. Another carried irons. He stopped dead when he saw Damen. ‘Cuff him,’ said the officer.

buddy i think there’s one in the way

The soldier holding the irons didn’t move, his wide eyes staring at Damen. ‘Do it,’ came the order. ‘Do it, soldier,’ said Damen.

this is a big moment, i think, relating to the “honor in submission” theme. the intentional appearance of submission in order for damen to reclaim his power. i said this maaaany annotations ago, but damen and laurent’s experiences with trauma in these books are on different timelines. laurent is nursing years of trauma, and knows how to use the appearance of his victimhood to his own advantage. but damen’s trauma is extremely fresh, and thus far he’s only been able to deny it, become disoriented by it, or lose himself in it. but now, almost like an echo of a younger laurent biding his time and committing to the bit in the regent’s court, damen is figuring out how to let his trauma work for HIM.

This was a complex political proposition for the soldiers.

i guess they like it simple (i'm never letting that line go)

The first person to recognise him was a household official carrying a vase which smashed, dropping from his hands.

okay, dramatic.

A slave, caught in a crisis of etiquette, fell half to his knees and then stopped, agonisingly uncertain whether he should complete his prostration.

i adore this subtle moment of a slave seeing royalty in a position like theirs and reconsidering whether they actually need to kneel in the first place

And there wasn’t one throne on the dais, there were two. Kastor and the Regent sat side by side, presiding over the hall.

wrong unification!

It was strange—he had waited for so long to face Kastor, and now he found him simply extraneous. The Regent was the sole intrusion, the sole threat. Kastor looked satisfied. He didn’t see the danger. He didn’t understand what he had let into Akielos.

of course, damen still can’t Notice everything quite yet. but he’ll get it eventually

Alive, alive, Laurent was alive. Damen’s heart leapt, and for a moment he just stood and drank the sight in, giddy with relief.

how far we’ve come :’)

He was still wearing the short Akielon chiton that he had worn to the Kingsmeet, but it was dirty and ripped. Skimpy and showing the signs of rough wear, it was a humiliating garment for him to stand in before the Council.

obvious, but this is a foil to his veretian clothing which signified confidence and invulnerability

Like Damen, he had his hands chained behind his back.

are they both double-cuffed on one wrist

The physical act of standing for hours in irons must be taking its toll, the sheer ache of muscle exhaustion, the rough treatment, and the examination itself, the Regent’s questions, and Laurent’s steady, determined answers.

i think damen’s projecting here. when he was in this position, he had given steady determined answers. he had experienced and withstood exhaustion rough treatment and examination. the sympathy he feels towards laurent at this moment is really sympathy he hasn’t been able to fully give himself, because he has always been unable and unwilling to truly accept himself as a victim.

But he wore the clothes and the chains with disregard, his posture, as ever, coolly untouchable. His expression could not be read, except for, if you knew him, the courage that he sustained though he was alone, and tired, and without friends, and he must know that it was close to the end.

but this is how laurent differs from how damen perceives himself, in this position. laurent’s pride means nothing to him, as long as his submission means that the people he cares for are saved. damen’s pride means everything to him, and i think even now he’d say so. but the thing is, that we saw how damen was just as willing to lower himself to protect the akielion slaves in book 1. damen is so fascinating as a narrator because he does not understand himself at all, but we as the reader can understand him perfectly based on the things he chooses to acknowledge or ignore. frustrating to read at times, but the exact narrator this series needs. these books would not work nearly as well with laurent as full-time narrator.

It was clear from the open look of horrified recognition on Laurent’s face that he had not expected Damen—that he had not expected anyone.

laurent’s not stalling, the regent is dragging this out to torture him

On the dais, Kastor made a small gesture to the Regent, as if to say, You see? I have had him brought for you.

the only thing kastor can actually get credit for doing independently in this entire series was making damen a slave and sending him to vere, and i’m pretty sure that was jokaste’s idea in the first place

(edit from future sam: i know he also killed the king. it comes up later)

‘No,’ said Laurent, swinging his gaze back to his uncle. ‘You promised.’

laurent immediately assumes that the regent somehow made this happen, rather than damen doing it of his own free will. ow.

‘This is Damianos of Akielos. He was captured at the gates this morning. He’s the man responsible for the death of King Theomedes, and for my nephew’s treason. He is my nephew’s lover.’

of course the regent (and kastor) took advantage of damen’s “weakness” and spun it to make themselves look powerful, which puts damen in the perfect place to turn the tables. damen didn’t even really intend for this to happen, consciously i think he surrendered out of desperation more than any rational plan, but SUBconsciously this was literally the perfect move. and we’re about to see damen slowly realize this, and pick up steam as he figures out exactly how he can leverage and subvert this perceived weakness to get what he wants. just like laurent!!!

He had not been brought here to face Kastor or to answer for their father’s death. He had been brought here as a final piece of evidence in Laurent’s trial.

the first time the regent used a captive damen against laurent, damen refused to play along. this was an unexpected response by both the regent and laurent, and it bought d&l necessary time to become stronger in each other’s company.

now, the regent is once again using a captive damen against laurent. but this time, damen decides to play the game too. his willing cooperation in the trial the regent has created is within itself unexpected defiance, and that’s why we love damianos of akielos both as a person and as a really fucking well-written character. he has grown and changed in so many satisfying ways throughout the series, but the defining strengths of his character—willful and defiant integrity—have always been consistent. “i speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart.” = “i’ll cooperate in the trial you’ve rigged to your own advantage, and i’ll win.”

Mathe gestured to Damen. ‘Now we see the proof of all these claims. Damianos, the prince-killer, is here, giving the lie to all the Prince has been saying—proving once and for all that they are in league. Our Prince lies in the depraved embrace of his brother’s killer.’

sounds like mathe didn’t put in the effort and/or critical thinking to properly understand the captive prince series by cs pacat

He was suddenly an exhibit, a kind of proof none of them had imagined: Damianos of Akielos, captured and bound.

full circle babyyyy

‘Nephew, Damianos is restrained. You can speak honestly. You are safe from harm.’ Laurent weathered the slow, caring touch, as the Regent said, gently, ‘Is there some explanation? Perhaps you were not willing? Perhaps he forced you?’ Laurent’s eyes met his uncle’s. Laurent’s chest rose and fell shallowly under the thin white fabric of the chiton. ‘He didn’t force me,’ said Laurent. ‘I lay with him because I wanted to.’

BIG LAURENT MOMENT!!!! “i am not a victim! i did this by choice because i wanted to do it, and i will not lie even if the truth makes me look weak!”

we can see exactly how damen has influenced laurent in this moment. there is no strategic advantage to being honest or blunt here. in fact it invites the very things laurent fears—perceived weakness, shame, uncertainty. the regent is giving him a chance to perhaps save himself, by blaming damen and seeing him punished instead—an option laurent did not think was previously available to him. but laurent does not consider this for a second, and instead does the exact opposite of what his uncle truly wants and expects him to do: he KEEPS IT SIMPLE. laurent cooperates with the image the regent is creating of him, and both we and laurent know that IS defiance. because for maybe the first time ever, laurent knows without a doubt that the image the regent portrays of him isn’t fucking true. he knows that with damen, unlike the regent, he wasn’t a victim. he was willing, he was not forced, and unlike his early stunts in vere, he is not allowing the implication that damen assaulted him to stand. he isn’t hiding or lying or restraining himself. he's not using the way people perceive him as weak to his advantage. laurent has committed to many bits in his life, and when convenient those bits have been some complicated semblance of reality. but this is the first time that laurent simply commits to the TRUTH.

(i love this scene so much. it’s all synthesized so well. it’s a perfect demonstration of how damen and laurent have have changed themselves and each other for the better. i have complaints about this book more than the others, but the trial is fantastic.)

Damen could feel it: in a day’s worth of questioning, this was the first admission.

THAT’S WHAT I JUST SAID!!

‘You don’t have to lie for him, Laurent,’ said the Regent. ‘You can tell the truth.’

even if laurent doesn’t know it yet, he isn’t just doing this for damen—he’s doing it for himself!

‘I don’t lie. We lay together,’ said Laurent, ‘at my behest. I ordered him to my bed. Damianos is innocent of all the charges brought against me. He suffered my company only under force. He is a good man, who has never acted against his own country.’

the self loathing runs deep but still this is a laurent w!!!! the truth is that he hates himself, but at least he’s owning it, and specifying that his self-hatred has fuckall to do with the dumb bullshit the regent is accusing him of. all while being a better version of himself, defending damen in a situation where he had perviously maligned him, which he would not have grown enough to do without damen’s company!!!

‘And what am I accused of? That I have lain with Laurent of Vere?’ Damen’s eyes raked the Council. ‘I have. I found him honest and true. He stands before you wrongly accused. And if this is a fair trial, you will hear me.’

perfect. he knows it isn’t a fair trial, just as he knew it wasn’t fair for him to be punished instead of the regent at the kings meet, just as he now understands that the slavery system in akielos is neither fair nor just. the “good vs nice” theme has finished marinating, and now damen is using the false niceties of his society to do good, basically calling the regent and kastor’s bluff. “IF this is a fair trial, you will hear me.” = “in order for you to maintain the power you’ve been given by the system, you will have to let me to use the system to challenge your power”

‘You will hear me,’ said Damen. ‘You will hear me, and if when you have heard me you still find him guilty, then I will meet my fate alongside him. Or does the Council fear the truth?’

this is his true calling. let’s be so fucking real. i’ve never even jokingly called damen a himbo for a reason, and that reason is that he’s extremely good at thinking critically and constructing compelling arguments if he just lets himself acknowledge reality.

The Regent said, ‘By all means, speak.’ It was a challenge. To have Laurent’s lover in his power pleased the Regent, as a demonstration of his larger power. Damen could feel that. The Regent wanted Damen to entangle himself, wanted a victory over Laurent that was total. Damen drew in a breath. He knew the stakes. He knew that if he failed, he would die alongside Laurent, and the Regent would rule in Vere and in Akielos. He would have given over his life and his kingdom. He looked around at the columned hall. It was his home, his birthright, and his legacy, more precious to him than anything. And Laurent had given him the means to secure it. At the Kingsmeet he could have left Laurent to his fate and ridden back to Karthas and his army. He was undefeated on the field, and not even the Regent would have been able to stand against him. Even now, all he had to do was denounce Laurent and he could face Kastor with a real chance of taking back his throne.

every time damen has had a moment like this, his integrity and honor have prevailed. even when he HATED laurent and would have benefited directly from his assassination, he had intervened because he thought it was a dishonorable attempt on laurent’s life. and then he’d left against his own instincts, because he did not respect or know laurent and laurent did not respect or know him. in book 2 he had many moments like this, and had all but admitted to himself that he was not willing or able to take them. even when they were divorced in the first part of this book, when laurent was actively antagonizing him out of spite, damen never let nikandros or anyone else intervene.

now, after everything they’ve been though? this isn’t even a fucking question. if it’s damen we’re talking about, when it really comes down to this question, it never really has been.

But he had asked himself the question in Ravenel, and now he knew the answer. A kingdom, or this.

committing to the bit, once and for all.

‘I met the Prince in Vere. I thought as you did. I didn’t know his heart.’ It was Laurent who said, ‘No.’ ‘I came to learn it slowly.’ ‘Damen, don’t do this.’ ‘I came to learn his honesty, his integrity, his strength of mind.’ ‘Damen—’ Of course Laurent wanted everything done his own way. But today it was going to be different.

their conflict is their love!!!!!!!! they challenge each other to be better, and the world becomes a better place because of it!!!!!!!!

‘I was a fool, blinded by prejudice. I didn’t understand that he was fighting alone, that he had been fighting alone for a very long time. ‘And then I saw the men he commanded, disciplined and loyal. I saw the way his household loved him, because he knew their concerns, cared for their lives. I saw him protect slaves. ‘And when I left him, drugged and without friends after an attack on his life, I saw him stand up in front of his uncle and argue to save my life because he felt he owed me a debt. ‘He knew that it might cost him his life. He knew he’d be sent to the border, to ride into the very same plot to kill him. And he still argued for me. He did it because it was owed, because in the very private code with which he ran his life, it was right.’ He looked at Laurent, and he understood now what he had not understood then: that Laurent had known who he was that night.

you should try re-reading the series damen, it’s craaaaaazy when you know the twist

Laurent had known who he was and had still protected him, out of a sense of fairness that had somehow survived what had happened to him.

damen and laurent have different traumas, but this description applies to both of them perfectly. from the moment they met each other, they were no longer suffering alone. even if they hated that fact sooooo bad.

‘That is the man you face. He has more honour and integrity than any man I have ever met. He is dedicated to his people and his country. And I am proud to have been his lover.’

Damen said it with his eyes on Laurent, willing him to know how much he meant it, and for a moment Laurent just gazed back at him, his eyes blue and wide.

just had to get a “he gazed” in there. wouldn’t be lamen without it

The Regent’s voice interrupted. ‘A heartfelt declaration is not evidence. I am afraid to say that there is nothing here to change the Council’s decision. You offered no proof, only accusations of an unlikely plot against Laurent, with no hint as to who the architect of it might be.’ ‘You are the architect,’ said Damen, lifting his eyes to the Regent, ‘and I do have proof.’

LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOO!!!!!

‘I call Guion of Fortaine to speak.’

obsessed with how damen just immediately launched into defense attorney mode. did he do like mock trial as a teenager.

‘Very well,’ the Regent said, leaning back in his seat and gesturing to the Council. Then they had to wait, while runners were sent to the place on the outskirts of the city where Damen had told his men to camp. The Councillors got to sit down, and so did the Regent and Kastor. Lucky them.

oh that “lucky them” is so telling. damen is PISSED. we know this because he’s usually the king of understatement and underreaction in his narration, but is being salty about this minor inconvenience. imagine how he’s going to be with the the regent, if inconvenience gets such a reaction

Not only Guion, but all the members of Damen’s party: Guion’s wife, Loyse, looking white-faced, the physician Paschal, Nikandros and his men, even Jord and Lazar. It meant something to Damen that he had given each of them the option to leave, and they had chosen to stay with him. He knew what they risked. Their loyalty touched him.

except you, guion.

He knew that Laurent didn’t like it. Laurent wanted to do everything alone. But it wasn’t going to be like that.

lamen truly is the love story for me. it’s not enough for a romantic interest to be like “you’re not alone uwu <3” with such gentle softness that their partner finally believes it. it’s gotta be like “i’m not going to let you believe that you’re alone just so you can reinforce your own self-protective/destructive trauma responses. you’re loved, i brought receipts, deal with it” to truly hit

(which is interesting, esp with the series’s themes of coercion and free will! in a lot of ways it is a relief for someone to ignore your protests and boundaries, when they truly do mean well and want to help you and know what’s good for you. it’s just that most people who are forceful and coercive don’t have those intentions, or don’t actually know what they’re talking about. but this is a rare but earned moment where we know that damen is right, that laurent’s beliefs about himself should be challenged, and that they both will be better for it. they’ve always challenged each other in many ways, and throughout the series they’ve been making their way to being truly balanced in terms of power dynamics. laurent knew that damen had killed his brother the whole time he was antagonizing damen, but they still weren’t on even footing. damen eventually learned the truth about laurent’s awareness of his identity, but they still weren’t on even footing until they actually dealt with the baggage involved. in that one sex scene where damen took total control, i commented on how it felt like laurent wasn’t really letting himself be present, and damen lost himself in something that wasn’t there. but then in the following sex scene, laurent made SURE to be present. it's always been slightly uneven with them, up to the point where laurent freed jokaste and gave himself up to the regent. he's always had a lie of some kind to hide himself behind, to isolate himself with. but not now. he's not alone, and damen is not going to let laurent tell himself that he is. damen pushes past laurent's boundaries and within this narrative it's a good thing, and that is a huge part of the fantasy of captive prince and lamen's relationship. because we know that damen truly loves and cares for laurent and is doing this for his sake, and the core of their relationship is willingly challenging each other and allowing themselves to be challenged.)

Mathe resumed his role as questioner as the spectators craned their necks, disliking the columns because they obstructed the view.

‘Laurent of Vere is guilty of every charge brought against him,’ said Guion.

raise your hand if you’re surprised. nobody but damen should have a hand raised rn

‘You swore to tell the truth,’ said Damen. No one was listening to him.

two steps forward one step back with damen thinking the best of people who don’t deserve it. although i guess that’s what made lamen possible, because most people would not have reconsidered laurent after the shit he pulled in book 1. i say again, this series would not work with a non-damen protagonist

‘He tried to coerce me to lie for him. He threatened to kill me. He threatened to kill my wife. He threatened to kill my sons. He slaughtered his own people at Ravenel. I would vote him guilty myself, if I were still a member of the Council.’

guion you got your son killed, after inviting the regent to [redacted] him. sit down.

It had a symbolic power, the six of them standing on one side of the hall, and Laurent—in his thin, tattered Akielon clothing held in the grip of his uncle’s soldiers—on the other. Laurent spoke. ‘No final advice? No uncle’s kiss of affection?’ ‘You had so much promise, Laurent,’ said the Regent. ‘I regret what you became more than you do.’ ‘You mean that I’m on your conscience?’ said Laurent. ‘It hurts me,’ said the Regent, ‘that you feel such animosity towards me, even now. That you tried to undermine me with accusations, when I have only ever wanted the best for you.’ He spoke in a saddened voice. ‘You should have known better than to bring Guion to testify against me.’ Laurent met the Regent’s eyes, standing alone before the Council. ‘But uncle,’ said Laurent, ‘Guion isn’t who I brought.’

it’s like we’re in book 1 again. ahem. laurent: have you had your fun? don’t you want to taunt me one more time? regent: you already hate yourself more than i ever could. if you had just submitted to me, things would be better for us both. laurent: you’re the reason i hate myself. you did this to me. regent: if you understand the power i have over you, you really should have known better than to fight against me alone. laurent: i’m not fighting alone.

as always, i don’t remember exactly how much of this has been intentional on laurent’s part. had he counted on damen bringing loyse? i don’t think so, right? he really had meant to die, but now that the game has changed (damen is here, he’s brought the squad) laurent is back to planning, and has been since the moment their involvement was accepted. he even had time to think it through, which is like the most dangerous resource to give laurent!

‘He brought me,’ said Guion’s wife Loyse, stepping forward.

fucking GENIUS on cs pacat’s part. i wrote a long post months ago about women in capri, but like the gist of it was that there are normal rational compassionate people, women and otherwise, in this world, but we just haven’t gotten to be around them. because most of the people in power, and therefore the ones featured most prominently, are corrupt out-of-touch assholes. and the members of this series’s cast who don’t fall under this description exist to supplement damen and laurent’s insane dynamic. so it is genius to pull in this seemingly insignificant grieving woman whose motivations and emotions are simple, raw, understandable, and thematically linked to laurent and damen’s experiences with the regent as the person who ultimate seals the textually misogynistic regent’s fate. it’s not just about gender, or even primarily about gender—it’s about empowering the disempowered.

‘I have something to say. It’s about my husband, and this man, the Regent, who has brought my family into ruin, and who ended the life of my youngest son, Aimeric.’

YES.

‘Loyse, what are you doing?’ said Guion, as all of the hall’s attention riveted on Loyse. She paid him no attention, but continued to walk forward until she stood alongside Damen, addressing her words to the Counci

YEESSSSSS!

‘In the year after Marlas, the Regent visited my family in Fortaine,’ said Loyse. ‘And my husband, who is ambitious, gave him leave to enter the bedroom of our youngest son.’

the amount of contempt in “my husband, who is ambitious”…

Guion was looking from Loyse to the Council, and he gave a laugh, braying and too loud. ‘You can’t be giving credence to any of this.’

a foil to damen and laurent in this setting. immediately dismissing the testimony of his partner in favor of his own pride and status. stay classy, guion

No one answered, the silence uncomfortable. Councillor Chelaut’s gaze shifted for a moment to the young boy sitting beside the Regent, his fingers sticky with powdered sugar from the sweetmeats.

the poetic irony of this normalized part of the regent’s court turning the court against him when viewed in a new light, or just called out at all, especially by a woman whose son he abused!!!

‘I know that no one here cares about Aimeric,’ said Loyse. ‘No one cares that he killed himself at Ravenel because he couldn’t live with what he had done.'

parallel to damen defending laurent, except she does think he was alone. which is so deeply sad, and pretty much true.

‘So let me tell you instead about what Aimeric died for—a plot between the Regent and Kastor to kill King Theomedes and then to take his country.’

the truth is terrible, but it also empowers loyse to enact change. things can’t be better until we see them for what they really are. i’d say that’s a major series theme when it comes to relationships and politics.

‘These are lies,’ Kastor said in Akielon, and then he said it again in thickly accented Veretian. ‘Arrest her.’

seems like damen speaks better veretian than kastor, if kastor’s is deeply accented. kastor stays losing!

It was plain from Kastor’s face that he had realised for the first time that he was not in control of the hall.

shifts of power truly are the powerhouse of the captive prince series. both in a narrative way and a horny way

‘Arrest me, but not before you’ve seen the proof.’ Loyse was pulling a ring on a chain from her gown; it was a signet ring, ruby or garnet, and on it was the royal crest of Vere. ‘My husband brokered the deal. Kastor assassinated his own father in exchange for the Veretian troops you see here today. The troops he needed to take Ios.’

i’m going to be so real, it’s been months since i read prince’s gambit, but i’m pretty sure the signet ring was foreshadowed. which… holy shit. laurent hadn’t expected all the damen stuff to happen, but i’m pretty sure he had been priming this piece of ammo against the regent the entire time. he’d just thought that he’d lost the opportunity to use it when giving himself up, or had given up sooner than that. or had he only learned this from loyse after aimeric’s death?? idk maybe the book will tell me now. i hope it does bc i do not feel like digging back for foreshadowing i’ve been doing this for hours

wait no FUCK the ring was for nikandros!!! right???? yes it has to be. it couldn’t have been both things at once, and loyse telling laurent only makes sense after aimeric’s death. so yes the signet was foreshadowed, but it was a different use of it. although i guess the existence of a signet ring holding significance was foreshadowed partially so it would work again here.

‘She’s not a traitor. She’s just confused. She’s been deceived, and coached, she’s been upset since Aimeric died. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s being manipulated by these people.’

“she doesn’t know what she’s doing. she’s being forced. she’s a victim, because we’ve made her a victim.” FUCK NO!!! we’re not doing that anymore!!!!

Herode and Chelaut wore expressions of repressed distaste, even revulsion. Damen saw suddenly that the obscene youth of the Regent’s lovers had always been repellent to these men, and the idea that the son of a councillor had been used in this way was disturbing to them beyond measure.

could have been way more disturbing way sooner, but better late than never ig

But they were political men, and the Regent was their master.

POWER SHIFTS! POWER RESTING ON THE SUBJUGATED CAN BE TOPPLED AT ITS FOUNDATIONS!

He was right, Damen realised. Laurent hadn’t brought Loyse to clear his own name, but to clear Damen’s. There was no proof that would clear Laurent’s name. The Regent had been too thorough. The palace assassins were dead. The assassins from the road were dead. Even Govart was dead, cursing boy pets and physicians.

maybe. just maybe. you both are good and both deserve to be happy. at the same time. your names can both be cleared. we are so close.

“boy pets and physicians” ironically the two things that end up getting the regent convicted

They were connected in some way. He was suddenly sure of it. Whatever Govart had known, Nicaise had known it too, and the Regent had killed him for it. And that meant— Damen was pushing himself up abruptly.

i LOVE how damen pieces this together. it wasn’t a laurent machination, the laurent machination had been to save damen alone. but damen said “no, laurent needs to be saved too.” and figures out a convoluted thing that even laurent hadn’t clocked, which just happens to involve nicaise, who deserved better, just like laurent deserves better, just like everyone under the regent’s power deserves better, except guion.

‘No,’ said Paschal. ‘He died because of this.’ He took from the folds of his clothes a bundle of papers, tied with string.

does he always just like carry that around?? i guess it makes sense if it’s like dangerously sensitive information, and also from his dead brother

‘The last words of my brother, the archer Langren, carried by the soldier called Govart, and stolen by the Regent’s pet, Nicaise, who was killed for it. This is the testimony of the dead.’

okay yeah he kept it on him bc it got stolen once and the person who stole it got killed about it. that tracks. also tracks why he hadn’t spoken up sooner.

‘I am Paschal, a palace physician. And I have a story to tell about Marlas.'

LOVE how it’s marlas

‘Diplomacy failed. The talks fell through. Theomedes wanted land, not peace. He sent away the Veretian emissaries without hearing them.'

not surprised

For the first time, he wondered what had happened behind Veretian lines to cause it. He thought of a King convinced it was the best way of protecting his people.

love this subtle damen character development moment

‘Instead, Veretians fell. I was nearby when the word came that Auguste was dead. In grief, the King pulled off his helm. He was careless. I think in his mind, he had no reason left to be careful.’

so the regent was the reason both auguste and the king died. they went out there on bad advice because they were desperate to protect their people. and damen thought they were cowards, and believed that his killing of auguste was honorable and fair.

damn.

He began to untie the string, drawing it away and opening the papers. They were covered in writing. ‘Nicaise gave it to me for safekeeping. He had stolen it from Govart, and he was scared. I opened it, never expecting what I would find. In fact, the letter was to me, though Nicaise didn’t know it. It was a confession, in my brother’s handwriting.’

i’m glad that nicaise has a part in this, even if he isn’t here to see it.

And then Damen looked at Laurent. Laurent’s face was completely devoid of colour. It was not an idea that Laurent had entertained before, that much was clear. Laurent had his own blind spot when it came to his uncle. I didn’t think he’d really try to kill me. After everything . . . even after everything.

just like his father and brother—a bleeding heart. but that gives him power, just as much as it makes him vulnerable. all of the people rallying around him, dead and alive, are proof of that.

Damen thought of his father struggling to breathe in his sickbed

it’s so funny to know that yet another Thing kastor did was someone else’s idea first. come on, dude.

‘You can’t believe this? The lies of a physician and a boy whore?’ Guion’s voice was jarring in the silence. Damen looked to the Council, where the oldest of the Councillors, Herode, was looking up from the papers. ‘Nicaise had more nobility in him than you,’ said Herode. ‘He was more loyal to the Crown than the Council, in the end.’

‘The Council has been deceived into treason,’ said the Regent, calmly. ‘Take them.’ There was a pause, in which his order ought to have been followed, but wasn’t. The Regent turned. The hall was thick with his soldiers, the Regent’s Guard, trained to his orders, and brought here to do his bidding. None of them moved. In the strange silence, a soldier stepped forward. ‘You’re not my King,’ he said. Pulling the Regent’s insignia from his shoulder, he dropped it at the Regent’s feet.

this is the most devastating defeat possible for the regent. for reasons i think i’ve already explained.

Then he crossed the hall as the Council had done, to stand beside Laurent.

okay actually THIS is the most devastating defeat for the regent. lol

His movement was the first drop that became a trickle, then a flow, as another soldier pulled his insignia from his shoulder and crossed, and another, and another, until the hall was loud with the sound of armoured feet, the hail of badges hitting the ground. Like the tide drawing away from a rock, the Veretians crossed the hall, until the Regent stood alone. And Laurent stood facing him, with an army at his back.

‘Herode,’ said the Regent. ‘This is the boy who has shirked his duties, who has never worked for anything in his life, who is in every way unfit to rule the country.’ Herode said, ‘He is our King.’ ‘He’s not a king. He’s no more than a—’ ‘You’ve lost.’ Laurent’s calm words cut across his uncle’s. He stood free. His uncle’s soldiers had released him, striking the irons from his wrists. Across from him, the Regent stood exposed, a middle-aged man used to commanding public spectacle, now with it turned against him.

He took the black square of cloth from the slave who had carried it, and placed it over the head of the sceptre. ‘This is absurd,’ said the Regent.

“from the slave who had carried it”

‘You think you can defy me?’ the Regent said to Laurent. ‘You think you can rule Vere? You?’ Laurent said, ‘I’m not a boy anymore.’

And he saw that Laurent understood, that Laurent knew, somehow, about the scrap of paper that Damen had found that morning in the empty wagon in their camp, its door standing open. That he had carried it in careful fingers on the long walk to the city. The child was never yours, but he is safe. In another life, he would have been a king. I remember the way you looked at me, the day we met. Perhaps that, too, in another life. Jokaste

okay uh sure. cool. wasn’t really worried about that with everything else going on but good to know i guess. anyway

(i'm still murky on how much of this laurent had anticipated, vs what damen thinks laurent anticipated because damen thinks laurent knows everything, vs what neither of them anticipated. it's fine.)

‘What’s happening?’ said a young voice. Damen turned. The eleven-year-old boy who had been sitting beside the Regent’s throne had pushed up out of his chair and was staring, confusion in his wide brown eyes. ‘What’s happening? You said we’d go riding after. I don’t understand.’ He was trying now to go to the soldiers who were holding the Regent down. ‘Stop it, you’re hurting him. You’re hurting him. Let him go.’ A soldier was holding him back, and the boy was fighting him.

fuuuuuuuck. breaking the cycle, but still. breaking.

Laurent looked at the boy, and in his eyes was the knowledge that some things couldn’t be fixed.

nicaise. closure, self-forgiveness, grief as fuel for a better future. sad and real and finished.

He said, ‘Get that boy out of here.’

the most merciful thing laurent could do: protect the boy from seeing this

It was a single clean stroke. Laurent’s face didn’t change.

interesting to compare this to nicaise’s beheading. “damen saw laurent react, then make himself not react.”

i find this to be a very satisfying way for the regent to die: killed by a coalition of the people he had crushed on his way to power, by the same means he had used to kill nicaise. and for once, laurent did not have to get his own hands dirty to see justice done.

‘Put his body on the gates. Fly my flag on the walls. Let all my people know of my ascension.’ He lifted his eyes, and met Damen’s gaze across the length of the hall. ‘And unchain the King of Akielos.’

sounds like the kings have risinged

‘You came,’ said Laurent. ‘You knew I would,’ said Damen.

... but did he, though? maybe he thought you'd come to defeat kastor, but i don't think laurent thought he (laurent) was going to survive this.

‘If you need an army to take your capital,’ said Laurent, ‘I seem to have one.’

yeah laurent does not agree. damen you’re still maybe a little off the mark here, but that’s okay, it’s good to encourage laurent to value himself and trust in his community. i just hope that your idealistic misjudgments of character don’t end up getting you stabbed in the next chapter when you expect your murderous brother to act honorably

Even men fighting for their lives could not overcome a lifetime of observance and directly strike against their Prince. He had a clear path.

i really like how this chapter is placed after the very optimistic and empowering trial sequence. because there is still so much cynicism to the monarchy, to these systems of power, to people like kastor who don’t take chances that are given to them, and those things can still cause harm. they can especially endanger people like damen, whose greatest strength and weakness is his stubborn determination to live in a world that is good. and where laurent benefitted from learning from damen in the last sequence, and his cynicism was ultimately proven wrong, damen is proven wrong in this one. kastor does try to kill him when he shows mercy, the system is still being observed in ways that resemble the past. but damen isn’t alone, and laurent is there for him when he miscalculates—unlike jokaste or any of his other allies when kastor stripped him of his dignity and sent him to vere as a slave. and together they’re going to do their best to change the world for the better, even though the world is complicated and sometimes cynical. that, to me, is the most empowering way this story could possibly end.

He turned left. Instead of heading towards the main doors, he made his way to the viewing hall, where slaves were displayed for their royal masters. He turned into the narrow corridors along which he’d been taken on that long ago night, the fighting becoming distant shouts and clangs behind him, the sounds growing muffled as he ran. And from there, he descended down into the slave baths.

the trauma speedrun…

His body reacted, his chest constricting, his pulse kicking hard. For a moment, he was hanging suspended from those chains again, and Jokaste was coming towards him across the marble.

damen ptsd hasn’t magically healed. fits well with previous annotation about this final scene and why it works

All he could do was wait for Kastor to appear at the top of the stairs. Damen stood, his sword in his hands, and tried not to feel small, like a younger brother.

stronger man on top, etc

Kastor came in alone, without even an honour guard. When he saw Damen, he gave a low laugh, as though Damen’s presence satisfied in him some sense of the inevitable.

kastor: disney villain damen: he can’t be that bad

He thought of everything that Kastor had done—the long, slow poisoning of their father, the massacre of his household, the brutality of his own enslavement—and he tried to understand that these things had not been done by another person, but by this one, his brother. But when he looked at Kastor all he could remember was that Kastor had taught him how to hold a spear, that he had sat with him when his first pony had broken its leg and had to be put down, that after his first okton Kastor had ruffled his hair and told him that he had done well.

see previous recent annotations about damen seeing the best in people being a double edged sword (literally)

Why did you deserve it more than I did? Because you were better at fighting? What does wielding a sword have to do with kingship?’ ‘I would have fought for you,’ said Damen. ‘I would have died for you. I would have been loyal—would have had you by my side.’

i love how damen answers the question without even meaning to answer it. damen is more honorable than kastor not because of his lineage or skills, but because he acts honorably. if kinghood is meant for the honorable (which uhhhh personally i’m not a big fan of royalty stuff bc i think that’s lame but we’re staying within the narrative and kastor’s logic rn), then that is why damen deserves to be king while kastor does not

He made himself stop before he gave voice to the words that he had never let himself speak: I loved you, but you wanted a throne more than you wanted a brother.

a kingdom or this, and kastor chose a kingdom. and didn’t even get it. lol

‘You know I can’t beat you in a fair fight.’

the narrative knows that there is no such thing as a fair fight, but damen fundamentally will always believe that there should be.

‘I didn’t want you made a slave. When the Regent asked for you, I refused. It was Jokaste. She convinced me to send you to Vere.’ ‘Yes,’ said Damen. ‘I’m beginning to understand that she did.’

damen knows that’s a lie, and that the regent happily accepted damen as a slave as a gift from kastor so he could torture laurent. he also knows for a fact now that jokaste had been trying to protect him—from kastor.

I’m your brother.’ Kastor said it, as Damen took another step, and then another. ‘Damen, it’s a terrible thing to kill your own family.’ ‘You’re troubled by what you’ve done? It gives you a moment’s pause?’

kastor going into damage control mode because he thinks damen is going to actually do it. fucking coward

Kastor lifted his head and looked at him, and Damen saw a thousand unspoken words in his brother’s black eyes. ‘Thank you,’ said Kastor, ‘brother.’ And he drew a knife from his belt, and ran it straight through Damen’s unprotected body.

the paradox of a better world, as experienced and perpetuated by damen: have to believe in it for it to exist, but you’re going to experience pain and suffering because of that belief

‘There can’t be two Kings of Akielos.’ Kastor was coming down the steps towards him. ‘You should have stayed a slave in Vere.’

there actually can be two kings, but they’re named damen and laurent. hope that helps.

A shocked, familiar voice to his left. He and Kastor both turned their heads. Laurent was standing in the open archway, white-faced. Laurent must have followed him from the great hall. He was unarmed and still wearing that ridiculous chiton. He needed to tell Laurent to get out, to run, but Laurent was already on his knees beside him. Laurent’s hand was passing over his body. Laurent said, in an oddly detached voice, ‘You have a knife wound. You have to staunch the blood until I can call for a physician. Press here. Like this.’ He lifted Damen’s left hand to press against his stomach.

laurent is here for damen because damen believed in a better world, and tried to see the best in laurent. if he hadn’t done that, he would bleed out and die right now. ultimately it is damen’s way of thinking that prevails, and that’s why he’s our protagonist.

Then he took Damen’s other hand in his own, clasping their fingers together and holding his hand like it was the most important thing in the world. Damen thought that if Laurent was holding his hand, he must be dying.

god they’re so.

There was a snick as Laurent locked Damen’s gold cuff to one of the slave chains scattered over the floor. Damen looked at his newly chained wrist, not comprehending. Then Laurent rose, his hand closing around the hilt of Damen’s sword. ‘He won’t kill you,’ said Laurent. ‘But I will.’

SEE RECENT ANNOTATIONS.

also wow, i am a SUCKER for unfathomably soft treatment of the person a character loves, and then resolute violence towards the people who hurt them. which is like laurent’s whole thing. they’ve both changed, but some things are always going to be the same.

and of course, the continuing use of the cuffs and chains. in the same way that damen didn’t give laurent a choice but to believe that he wasn’t alone, laurent isn’t giving damen a choice but to survive this encounter with kastor.

Kastor had reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘I’m going to kill your lover,’ he said to Damen, ‘and then I’m going to kill you.’ Laurent stood in his way, a slender figure with a sword that was too big for him, and Damen thought of a thirteen-year-old boy with his life about to change, standing on the battlefield with determination in his eyes.

kastor you have no idea how cunty laurent is with a sword

Damen had seen Laurent fight before. He had seen the spare, precise style that he used on the field. He had seen the different, highly intellectual way that he approached a duel. He knew Laurent as an accomplished swordsman, a master even, of his own style. Kastor was better.

okay fine whatever.

Kastor, at thirty-five,

kastor you cannot be acting this way at age thirty fucking five.

Kastor lifted his sword. Damen tugged uselessly on the chain as Kastor advanced. It was like watching a former self, unable to stop his own actions.

damen is SO convinced that kastor is going to win this, because he won in marlas against auguste. and then beat laurent when they fought. buuuuut

And then Kastor attacked, and Damen saw what a lifetime of single-minded dedication had forged in Laurent.

damen is often wrong, especially about laurent. and kastor isn’t damen.

Years of training, of pushing a body never intended for martial pursuits to its limit in hours of ceaseless practice. Laurent knew how to fight a stronger opponent, how to counter a longer reach. He knew the Akielon style—more than that. He knew exact move sets, lines of attack taught to Kastor by the royal trainers that he could not have learned from his own sword masters, but only by watching Damen with meticulous attention as he trained, and cataloguing each movement, preparing for the day that they would fight.

and laurent had LEARNED from damen.

And because Laurent’s life had been dragged from its course, because he was not the sweet, bookish youth he might have been, but instead was hard and dangerous as cut glass, Laurent was going to take on Kastor’s best sword work, and force it back.

laurent, specifically as a character with trauma, means so much to me. sometimes people push back against the idea that trauma makes you stronger, because it’s often used as an apologetic platitude: “you experienced bad things, but it’s okay because you’re stronger.” i disagree with that implication wholeheartedly. but personally, i do think that trauma made me stronger, simply because it forced me to adapt in ways i would not have otherwise figured out. and to me this is a neutral fact, not a tragedy or uplifting platitude. trauma made me stronger, whether i like it or not. the uplifting part, for me, comes in the ways i can use that strength to fight for a better life and a better world. and that feels very close to the ethos of laurent’s character, and the captive prince series as a whole.

It was a simple misjudgement on Laurent’s part: a dip in the marble altered his footing and affected his line, his blade cutting too far to the left. He wouldn’t have misjudged if he hadn’t been tired. The same had been true for Auguste, fighting for hours on the front. His eyes flying to Kastor, Laurent tried to correct the mistake, close the gap into which a man could drive his sword if he was ruthless, and willing to kill. ‘No,’ said Damen, who had lived this, too, jerking hard on his restraints, ignoring the pain in his side as Kastor took the opening, moving with merciless speed to cut Laurent down. Death and life; past and future; Akielos and Vere. Kastor let out a choked sound, his eyes shocked and wide. Because Laurent wasn’t Auguste. And the stumble wasn’t a mistake, it was a feint. Laurent’s sword met Kastor’s, forcing it up, and then, with a neat, minimal motion of the wrist, driving forward into Kastor’s chest.

damen is always going to miss things, about laurent and everything else in the world. this often means he is blindsided in upsetting ways.

but sometimes he misses things like this. and it’s good, once in a while, for him be proven wrong :)

(as i’ve said, that’s the core of lamen. endless power shifts. and i love it.)

Laurent was already turning, already at Damen’s side, on his knees, his hands firm and strong on Damen’s body as though he had never left.

“anyway”

Kastor’s death he felt as the death of a man he had not known, or understood. Losing his brother—that had happened a long time ago, like the loss of another self who had not grasped the flawed nature of the world. Later, he would face that.

“another self who had not grasped the flawed nature of the world” damen if you want to know more about that guy you can read my bazillion annotations of your narration

Later they would lay Kastor out, taking him on the long walk, inter him, where he should be, with their father. Later he would mourn, for the man Kastor was, for the man he might have been, for a hundred different pasts and might-have-beens. Now, Laurent was beside him. Aloof, untouchable Laurent was beside him, kneeling on the wet marble hundreds of miles from home, with nothing in his eyes but Damen. ‘There’s a lot of blood,’ said Laurent. ‘Luckily,’ said Damen, ‘I brought a physician.’

‘I killed your brother.’ ‘I know.’

would have been a useful conversation to have three books ago, but i’m not complaining about what we got instead

Damen said it, and felt a strange empathy pass between them, as if they knew each other for the first time. He looked into Laurent’s eyes and felt himself understood, even as he understood Laurent. They were both orphans now, without family. The symmetry that ruled both their lives had brought them here, at the end of their journey.

okay sorry to criticize right before this wraps up but this paragraph wasn’t necessary

‘It was one kingdom, once.’ Laurent wasn’t looking at him when he said it, and it was a long moment before he lifted his eyes to Damen’s waiting ones, and Damen’s breath caught at what he saw there, the odd shyness of it, as though Laurent was asking instead of answering. ‘Yes,’ said Damen, feeling light-headed at the question.

that was literally a marriage proposal, right???

(interesting how we never get “i love you”s. although i think we have gotten many of them, just not in so many words. and those words being what They Are is very specific to our real-life culture and media.)

‘No, don’t move,’ said Laurent, when Damen pushed up onto an elbow, and then, ‘Idiot,’ when Damen kissed him.

i’d be lying if i said this didn’t immediately make me think of catradora

He pushed Damen firmly back. Damen let him. His stomach hurt.

damen bringing us home with one last understatement

It was not a mortal wound, but it was nice to have Laurent fuss over him.

The thought of days of bed rest and physicians was made sweeter by the thought of Laurent alongside him, making barbed remarks in public, and in private, newly tender. He thought, Laurent alongside him for all the span of his days. He lifted his fingers to touch Laurent’s face.

“my husband is a bitch and i love him so much”

‘You know, you’re going to have to unchain me at some point,’ said Damen. Laurent’s hair was soft. ‘I will. At some point. What’s that sound?’

never really letting each other go

He could hear it even in the slave baths, muffled but audible, the sound ringing out from the highest peak, a peal of notes, proclaiming a new king. ‘Bells,’ said Damen.

i know a lot of people really love this conclusion, and while i don’t dislike it, it doesn’t feel like it hits as hard as it could. when exactly have we heard bells before? i just scanned the prologue of book 1 and didn’t see them. i get the themes of kings rising (obviously) and the future, but i’m also wondering if there’s some obvious thing i’m missing that really makes this HIT. like, “he was watching the road” kind of hit. which i’ll be reading too, by the way. so it’s not quite over yet :)

final thoughts: see the past three books of annotations. i’m really happy i did this, and i'm so thankful for everyone who followed along with me. looking forward to the short stories, which i actually haven’t read except for the summer palace. let me know your recommended order, if you want!

#capri #sam reads capri #captive prince #kings rising #lamen #laurent of vere #damen of akielos

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