#are crying and demanding all the wrong things that do absolutely nothing for her

[trappedinafantasy37]

"Weeeh! I wanna recruit Minthara on a good playthrough! Weeeh! I don't like the ultimatum and want to keep both Minthara and Halsin! Weeeh! I wanna make Minthara good! Weeeh! I don't want Minthara to break up with me!" Minthara deserves more content but none of these things are at all what she needs or deserves. No, these are all things that you want for yourself, but do absolutely nothing for her. This is one of the biggest L's in the game and it will forever enrage me because I just know it will never happen.

Minthara deserves to confront Orin like all the other companions do with their abusers. She deserves to scream and yell at Orin. She deserves to cut at her the same way Orin did, make her bleed and scream in pain. Minthara deserves to torture Orin, just as she did her in the mind flayer colony. Minthara deserves the right to roll up to the Temple of Bhaal and beat the shit out of Orin with her bare hands. Leave Orin begging for mercy in which Minthara will not even give her a drop. To slam Orin down on that altar and slice her throat, offer her up as a sacrifice to the father she is so blindly devoted to.

And yes, Minthara would be afraid. She would be TERRIFIED. Despite how strong and powerful Minthara is, she is also the only one afraid of Orin. Unlike Ketheric, or Gortash, or Sarevok, she is the only one who fully acknowledges just how dangerous Orin actually is and does not underestimate her. She will walk down into that temple, intending to duel Orin with a massive disadvantage because she is terrified.

Minthara choked when seeing Orin again in the mind flayer colony. She choked when seeing Orin as an imposter, throwing her deep into the ocean of paranoia and fear. And she is so entrenched in paranoia that it actually becomes palpable to everyone around her, even you. She describes herself as paranoid, but this is the first that you actually see how paranoid she is. And she choked again when Orin kidnapped someone in camp, making her feel inadequate, making a mockery of her for being unable to protect one of her own. And every day that passes, the more and more likely that the victim is going to die and she has doubts on their survival.

At every possible avenue in which Minthara could have done something or said something about Orin, she froze in place with fear. But she's had enough. She cannot be afraid of Orin forever and she doesn't want to be. One way or another, Orin has to die and she wants to get over that fear. She needs to know that Orin is dead, for herself.

This would also make the alurlssrin confession all the more impactful. She wants to tell you that she loves you in the best way that she can because of the very high likelihood that she will never have another chance to do so. She would beg you to come with her as you give her the courage. She has the courage to face her fears and confront her tormentor, because she knows she has you in her corner. If you have the courage to stand up to the very gods themselves, then she can stand up to Orin. Romanced or not, your presence alone is enough to give her the strength to do something she would otherwise be too terrified to do.

Minthara deserves the honor to solo duel Orin in a fight to the death. Minthara deserves the right to achieve vengeance for herself. No, I do not care that this confrontation would conflict with a Durge playthrough. In fact, it would provide a phenomenal source of some interesting, and toxic, drama between Durge and Minthara. Especially if they're in a relationship. This also does not mean that Minthara killing Orin instead of Durge would not have its consequences (because it most certainly will). Even if Minthara does not fight Orin, it would be so much better if Minthara was just given the fucking chance to yell at Orin like all the other companions in their personal quests.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Mafia!König x Baker!Reader? It’s a small, self owned business and the only reason it’s still running is because König funds it, but he’s not going to hurt her feelings and confess that.

Konig knows heaven, and it smells like fresh cinnamon rolls at 6 am. He goes to your bakery every day - when he can afford to have a routine, to slip through the glass doors first thing in the morning and the last thing before you're closed. Get himself a set of fresh little pastries that he would throw at whatever poor secretary is going to cover up for his money laundering this day. Gets himself trays worth of cinnamon rolls and imagines smearing the white cream all over your lips. Making you suck his fingers clean. Maybe drop icing over his cock and push it over your mouth until you finally learn how to please a customer properly. He buys the whole building - gives you a hefty discount on rent, and makes sure to harass and beat down any poor fuck who thinks that getting money for protection from his turf is a good idea. Hires new security all around the block, discreet men in hoodies, allowing him to come here almost every day without risking you or himself. You're shit at doing business. Give away free stuff to students, never chastise the occasional workers you hire. They never stay for long - mostly because a lot of them are trying their hardest to rip you off, and Konig doesn't really appreciate the ones who wrong his future wife. It's easy to make the dough guy number three disappear - it's much harder not to stare at you, to stop his fingers from trembling and forgotten anxiety to whisper at his mind whenever you ask if he wants a free cinnamon bun to his order. He says it's a bad way of managing a business, and you giggle. Such a naive, precious little thing. You wouldn't survive without him - and you have absolutely no idea that this man will gladly shoot half of this damned city if you'd ask him. Konig wants nothing more but to press your pretty soft body to the counter and fuck you like it's the last thing he can do. Push you around and get his hands under your pretty skirt. Make you laugh, make you cry - make you whimper and claw at his shoulders as he pushes in, smearing sweet sugar powder all over your face. He was thinking about being just a bit more cruel - demanding something more for his protection. Having your pretty pussy on display for him, fuck you behind the counter. Drag you in his car and make you his sweet little baker back at the mansion. He isn't acting on his fantasies - not yet, at least, content with stealing soft touches and making his men steal your underwear for him. Visit your apartment sometimes, touch your pretty face and make decisions on how exactly he is going to whisk you away.

[quintinh43]

Heavy Heads and Heavy Hearts | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn gets injured as a game. His girlfriend takes him and cares for him.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Head injury, food, angst, mentions of vomiting (no actual vomiting)

Notes: Hi guyss! Hope everyone is doing ok! Injured Quinn got the most votes, so here we are! This one is the longest one ive done so far, I definitely did not mean for it to be as long as it is but here we are. Also, im not a professionl in any way, so i cant say this is concussion accurate. I just went off of my experience in dealing with athletes that have Concussions, and my own Concussions lol. Anywaysss I hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.

---

There was something so gut-wrenching about watching the man you love get injured. One second, Quinn was cutting quickly around the back of the net, and the next, he was getting slammed into the boards hard. It was nothing. You get hit, you get up, and you keep going. It was simply a part of hockey.

Except this time, Quinn wasn't getting up. He wasn't moving at all. You stand up, heart in your throat. The room feels like it's tilting. The sharp shrill of the refs whistle cut through the air, stopping the play as the refs skate over to where Quinn is lying motionless on the ice.

They are calling for medics. Your head is spinning with the worst possible scenarios as you excuse yourself from your seat and practically sprint to the locker room. One of the security members holds out a hand to stop you.

"Ma'am, you can't be here, please exit this area"

Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what you need right now. The overwhelming need that aches in your bones demanding to know that Quinn is ok makes you want to cry. Because now this fucker won't let you through. And you're nearly too panicked to do anything about it.

The logical route would be pulling out Quinns wallet, that has his ID in it, and explaining that you are his girlfriend. But with your anxiety high, and your heart in your throat logic is not the first thing on your mind.

"Listen buddy," you start, ready to absolutely rip this guy a new one. Thankfully for him, one of the trainers who knows you happens to be exiting the locker room.

"Let her through, Jace, that's Hughes' girl" he says, waving you forward. The security guard- Jace apparently, lets you pass with a grumble.

By the time you get rink side, Quinn is (half) conscious- thank God, and being half carried off the ice by Petey and Boeser. He's transfered to the care of two medics, who sit him on a bench and begin to check him over.

One of them is asking him questions gently, both to keep him awake and assess the damage to his head. While the other stabilizes his neck. "Can you tell me your full name and today's date?" One of the medics asks.

"Quintin Jerome Hughes," he slurs, eyes fluttering, "its Feb'uary... twenty-second, twenty-twenty-four"

Your breath hitches. He got the date wrong. You can't help the panic that rushes through you. "Good job Quinn, do you know where you are?"

"Van, Roger's arena," he mumbles, "playing hockey"

"Good," the medic hums. "we need to take off your equipment to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. Is that ok?"

"Y/n" he mumbles, eyes closing and head tilting forward, his head snapped back up a moment later, and if the other medic hadn't had his head stabilized he would probably have mild whiplash.

"Stay awake for us, Quinn. Is Y/n someone you'd like us to call?"

You spring forward at the mention of your name, "I'm here," you say, pushing past a couple of people who are standing around, ready to assist if the situation gets worse.

"My girl" Quinn slurs, his lips tilting into a small smile. Your heart flutters at that. In the midst of his delirium, he still cares about you dearly.

"Hello Y/n, I'm Sam," the guy who's been asking him questions, "and that's Kieran," he says, nudging his head towards Kieran, who gives a small smile.

"Do you think you could help us remove his equipment?"

"Yes absolutely, just tell me what to do" you say, glad that you can help.

"Can you remove his jersey and shoulder pads? Kieran needs to keep his neck stable, and I need to check for any other possible injuries. And keep him talking"

"Yeah, of course," you start by bending his elbow to slide it out of the sleeve of his jersey.

"Hey Quinny" you say softly, sliding his other arm out of his jersey "you played really really good today, I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks baby," he murmers, "glad you're here." He tries to lean his head against your chest, he huffs when Kieran doesn't let him, and you can't help but let out a breathy laugh, patting his head lovingly.

Kieran tilts his head to one side, allowing you to pull the jersey over his head. You deposit it in his cubby behind him and make quick work undoing his shoulder pads and pulling them off gently.

"I'm glad I'm here too. What do you wanna eat when we get home?"

Sam gently asks you to move out of the way so he can check Quinns upper body for injuries. The second you aren't doing something, the anxiety rises back to your chest. You take a deep breath and begin to unlace his skates. You pull them off, slipping a pair of slides on his feet so his socks don't get wet.

"Hmm" he hums in thought "potatos...?"

You laugh, "Alright Quinny. We'll have potatos"

Finally after palpating his whole body to make sure he doesn't have any other major injuries, testing his reflexes, and asking him a bunch more questions. They diagnose him with a minor concussion, and give you a list of things to look out for.

They deem it safe enough to leave you alone with him for a little bit and tell you to change him into something more comfortable. It takes a bit of work to take off his hockey pants and shinguards and get him into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

By the time you're done, the equipment manager and the medics have collected the rest of his equipment. After making sure his hockey bag is fully packed with everything, you grab his keys from your purse, while the EM helps you bring his bag to his car, and the medic helps you half carry him down.

He can mostly walk on his own, but better safe than sorry. On the ride home he keeps his head resting against the window, a cool compress is wrapped around his neck, and he's holding one over his eyes with one hand, while the other holds yours tightly.

You trace your thumb over the backs of his knuckles soothingly and keep him talking the whole way home. "What kind of potatoes do you want when we get home, Hon?"

"Can I change my mind?" He asks sheepishly. He's still talking very quietly and slurring his words a little, but the medics said that was nothing to worry about unless he started getting worse. So far, it was nothing to worry about.

"Of course my love, anything you want" you bring your intertwined hands to rest on your chest. It's a comforting weight over your heart, that you didn't know you needed until it was there.

Your phone lights up from the cup holder, it's a text from Petey, saying that the Canucks won the game. There are a few other texts, from his parents and brothers. You make a mental note to reply to them as soon as you get Quinn settled at home.

"Can we have noodles?" He mumbles.

"Yes, of course, love." You can't help but kiss the back of his knuckles. Watching Quinn get injured to the point of losing consciousness was not something you ever wanted to experience ever again.

"Your boys won, by the way," you say softly.

"The did?!" Quinns head shoots up front the window, and he is filled with instant regret as a sharp twinge shoots down his neck and to his shoulder.

"Ow fuck" he mumbles, laying his head back against the cool window.

"Careful love," you gasp, squeezing his hand.

"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, squeezing your hand back. You sigh, you have been on edge since he got injured, and it didn't look like the anxiety would dissipate for a while. You would just have to deal with it and try not to be an over bearing worry wart.

"You guys won 5-2" you smile, finally pulling into your apartment parking lot.

"I didn't do much except get my brains knocked around" he grumbles. "Some captain I am"

You scoff, flicking him in the nose lightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Quinny. Three of those points are yours."

Quinn wrinkles his nose and leans forward to bite your finger. You yelp, snatching it away with a glare. He sticks his tongue out at you, and you laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter than before.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs. " You say, undoing your seat belt and getting out of the car. You run around to his passenger side and open the door for him, and help him step out of the car. He throws an arm over your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. He's not as wobbly on his feet as he was earlier, but he still isn't at full strength.

Quinn squeezes his eyes shut and tucks his face against your hair. The florescent elevator lights were not pleasant in his state. "Can we keep the apartment lights off?" He mumbles against your hair.

"Sure love," you said rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly, "we're almost home," you fish the keys out of your purse and unlock it. You toe your shoes off at the door while Quinn slips his off easily and you guide him to the couch.

"What do you want first, baby? Food or a shower?"

"I'm not really hungry" Quinn mumbles, laying on the couch and adjusting the ice pack under his neck. You sit on the couch handle, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know honey, but we should try to get something light in your system, if you're feeling upto it."

Quinn sighs. He knows you're right. "I can make you toast? Or a sandwich or something?" You offer, smoothing your thumb over his hairline.

"Do we have bagles?" He asks

"Yeah, we have bagles, I'll make you one of those?"

"Yes please," he mumbles, you plant a kiss on his forehead and go pop a bagle into the toaster, "can you do it with cream cheese and jam?" He asks, chewing on his lip nervously.

"Sure, Hon, I'm gonna make myself some tea. Do you want a cup?" You ask as you pull the cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.

"No thanks, I'm ok" he mumbles. After his bagle is done being made, you help ease him into sitting position, and sit next to him with your cup of tea. He eats a bit more than half the bagle, and you finish off the rest before deeming it time to shower.

You remember all the messages from his family, and quickly shoot them texts, saying that he's ok and you just got home and you'll talk more when he gets settled.

"I'm gonna put these back in the freezer while we shower, yeah?"

Quinn nods, handing the ice packs to you to put in the freezer. You help him up slowly and lead him to the bathroom. You keep the lights off and leave the door open so you have a little bit of light from the bedroom.

While the shower warms up, you grab a clean change  of clothes for both you and Quinn and set them on the counter before helping Quinn strip. He has to brace an arm against the wall while you hold him steady with one hand and maneuver his clothes off with the other.

"I'm sorry," he murmers against your hair as you help him step into the shower.

"Oh Quinn, there's nothing to be sorry for," you say, sitting him on the shower seat.

"I'm sorry you have to take care of me like this." He huffs, resting his head against the cool Ike of the shower wall, "I feel so pathetic, " his voice cracks, and your heart nearly breaks.

"Quinn, my love, taking care of you is not a burden. It's a pleasure. I love you to the ends of the earth, and I would do anything for you, my sweets. " You kiss him on the forehead sweetly as if to prove your point.

He doesn't say much about it after that, but you can tell he still feels bad. You make quick work of washing his hair, being very careful of where a small bump has formed on his head. You scrub him down and rinse him off before shutting off the water.

You wrap a towel around yourself and then dry Quinn off gently before helping him change into his pajamas. "Let me change and then dry your hair a little bit before we have to put an ice pack on your head, ok?"

Quinn nods. He sits on the counter, leaning against the wall while you change into your pajamas. You plug in the hair dryer and dry his hair, keeping his head steady with one hand. As soon as his hair is no longer soaking wet, you help him off the bathroom counter and into bed. You grab the ice packs from the freezer and help him position them on his head and neck until he's comfortable.

"I'll be back in less than ten minutes, baby. I'm just going to grab your stuff from the car, ok?" You say pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie over your pajamas.

"Ok" Quinn mumbles, "I'll call if anything" he says patting his nightstand to make sure his phone is there.

You kiss him on the forehead and pull the bedroom door halfway closed so the light from the hall isn't too bright. Grabbing his car keys and your phone from the counter, you hit the call button on Ellen's contact as you slip out the door.

She picks up on the first ring "Hows he doing?" She asks immediately. She sounds distressed, maybe like she's been crying. You don't blame her. They probably haven't heard anything unless someone on the team contacted them, and you have no idea how bad it looked on TV.

"He's ok, Mrs. H, it's a mild concussion. His symptoms aren't worsening at all, and they said with some rest he'll be significantly better by tomorrow"

Her sigh of relief was unmatched. "He'll be out of play for a couple of weeks, but they just want to make sure he's back to 100% before he's playing again." The elevator finally opens, and you hit the button for the parking garage.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, im glad you're there with him. I know he's in good hands. I'll leave you be love, Jack and luke are super super anxious and would appreciate a call from you. Text me if anything happens."

"I will, Mrs. H, tell Mr. H I say hi"

"I will dear, thanks for taking care of our boy"

"Of course El, he's my boy too," you smile.

You swear you can hear Ellen smile over the phone. "We love you dear, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok. Don't forget to take care of yourself too"

"I will, I love you guys too. I'll text you updates"

"Alright, bye dear."

"Bye," you sigh, pressing the end call button, just as the elevator opens to the parking garage. As you press the button to open the trunk, you call Jack.

"Y/n,"  he huffs out, not even after a full ring. "How's Quinn? If he ok? What happened?"  Before you can answer any of Jacks questions, Luke's voice cuts him off, "is Quinn ok? Are you guys at the hospital? It looked really bad -"

Before their panicked tangents can get worse, you interrupt them both. "Take a breath, you two," you say calmly, breathing exaggeratedly so they can copy you "in and out, relax. Quinn is ok. He's ok"

"He's ok?"

"He's ok" you repeat. You feel the tears start to build, and your voice cracks "He's ok"

"Oh Y/n." Jack says softly.

"It's ok, I'm ok" you say, more to yourself than to Jack as you wipe the tears away. "Hold on, gimme one sec." You say, setting down your phone as you pull Quinn's hockey bag out the car. You close the trunk, make sure the car is locked and head back to the elevator.

"Hi, sorry I'm back. I was just grabbing Quinn's stuff out the car."

"Can you tell us what happened?"  Luke asks softly.

"He's got a concussion, and he's a bit bruised up, but other than that he's alright"

"Fuck, how bad is it?" Jack asks, the fear is evident in his voice, and you can't blame him. Concussions can be really bad sometimes.

"They said its a mild concussion, he's not throwing up at all, his memory is ok, he didn't injure his spine or anything, he'll be ok after a few days of rest. He probably wont be playing for a few weeks, but better safe than sorry."

"Oh thank God"  both Jack and Luke huffed "isn't he not supposed to sleep for 24 hours after or something?" Luke asks.

You shake your head with a small smile "Thats a myth, Lukey. As long as I check on him every few hours its ok for him to sleep."

"Ohh, ok. Well that's good" Luke says.

"We are glad he has you Y/n, thank you for taking care of our brother."

"Always" you say softly.

"We'll let you go now, keep us updated?"

"I will, Jackie. You two get some rest, you have a big game tomorrow, love you guys"

"We love you too Y/n/n" both boys say, hanging up.

You sigh, leaving his bag at the door. "Y/n?" Quinns weak voice calls out from the bedroom. You rush to him immediately, scared that something is wrong.

"Yes, Quinny, I'm right here" you say kneeling beside the bed, and stroking his hair.

"You took long," he mumbles, pressing his lips against your wrist.

"I'm sorry love, I'm here now," you stand, stripping the hoodie and sweats off and climbing into bed next to him. You stay a little distance away, not wanting to hurt Quinn. But he grumbles at you, tugging on your shirt to get you to come closer. Normally, he would just grab you and pull you closer, but he's still weak.

"I don't wanna hurt you" you mumble, scooting closer so that you are tucked against his side. He tangles your legs together and rests his head against yours.

"Never" he says, pressing his lips to the side of your head. You rest one of your hands on his hip, under his shirt, stroking your thumb over his hip bone.

"How you feeling?" You ask softly.

"Beat" he mumbles "thanks for taking care of me"

"I'll take care of you for as long as you let me love" you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

---

Wc: 3.1k

[darkbluekies]

Like a fly in a trap

Rich!female!yandere x reader

Summary: you escape Hedwig, only to be brought back and learn a secret about her family that puts everything into perspective.

Warnings: alcoholic? Yandere, Stockholm syndrome, abuse(?), isolation etc

Word count: 3.5k

A cold breeze finds its way into your bones. You pull the hood closer over your head, heart hammering in your chest. The sun is barely up. You have to catch the bus before her alarm clock rings. When she notices that you’re gone, all hell will break lose. 

You can’t pinpoint the moment things changed, you just know that at some point, Hedwig wasn’t the loving, caring girlfriend you got together with, but a clingy, possessive psychopath. Of course, she never shows that side to anyone … not even you. But you’ve been listening in on the calls she makes when she thinks you’re not listening. Wanting to hire hitmen and demanding for people to get hurt, even if they’ve only done as little as speak to you. You can’t say when she became like that … scared that she’s been that through your entire relationship … only that you’ve just started to notice. 

You’re not even sure where you’re going. You can’t go home. That’s the first place Hedwig would look. You don’t have anything on you that could be traced. There’s no plan, you just have to get away from Hedwig. 

The bus stops in front of you and you get on. You walk through the empty bus, sitting down in the very back and pull the hood of your hoodie closer to you.

Hedwig opens her eyes when the alarm sounds. She can tell right away that something is wrong. The bed is empty … and cold. Quickly, she sits up and looks around, heart stopping. Where are you? She rips the covers off of her body and runs over to the bathroom. Empty. Her pulse is hammering in her head. She can’t hear anything. Hedwig sinks down in the corridor to avoid fainting or throwing up. At this point, she’s unsure what she’s going to do. Her entire body is shutting down. It’s feels like she’s dying. 

With shaking hands she picks up her phone and call you. A signal rings through the room and she grows even colder. Your phone is on the bedside table. 

“Y/N, no … what”, she gasps in pure horror. “Y/N, don’t do this to me. Oh, God. Oh, my God.”

She presses her hands over her heart. 

“Hedwig, dearest, what is wrong?” she hears her father ask. 

She looks up and watches her father through her blurry vision. He’s standing in his pajamas, worried eyes looking down at her. 

“My dear, what happened?” her father asks again. 

“Y/N … Y/N …”, she hyperventilates.

“Has something happened to them?”

“They’re gone! I want them back! I want them back now!” She screams through her sobs. “I want them back this instant!”

“Sweetheart, sweetheart, don’t cry. Daddy will get them back to you.” He hugs her. “Daddy hates seeing his princess so upset. They will be back, I promise you, my little girl.”’

Hedwig wipes her tears and sobs. 

They go down to the kitchen where her mother has woken up, already with a glass of wine in her hand. 

“My little princess, can you please give your mother and me a smile?” her father begs her. “It will be okay, we will find Y/N again. I have called every person I know who works for the police, private detectives … everyone. I have millions of eyes open.”

Hedwig refuses. She holds her arms over her chest while sitting on a chair. Her mother is sitting beside her, sipping on her red wine while her father is walking back and forth in front of her, stressed out of his mind. When he can’t get Hedwig what she wants, he feels absolutely terrible. 

“We will find them, don’t worry”, her father says. “Daddy will do everything to make you happy.”

Hedwig avoids eye contact. If her fathers contacts can’t find you, then she’ll have to contact hers. None in the family knows about the hitmen she knows — and hires often — and neither does she want them to. Worry is eating her up from the inside. She wants nothing more than to hold you in her arms and kiss every part of your soft, wonderful skin. She wants to run her fingers through your hair and make sure that you know that you’re safe with her. She has never been this worried before. 

“This is the last stop.”

You nod and rise from your seat. Your legs have fallen asleep since long ago and you have no idea where you are. By now, you’re hungry and tired, wishing nothing more than to sleep. Carefully, you look around. Where are you? You’re surrounded by fields, forests and small, small cabins. With a sigh, you sit down by the side of the road, to think before you start going somewhere. You should try to find a payphone, perhaps, to call your family. No, they wouldn’t be able to help you. If Hedwig wouldn’t hire someone to kill them, she would either pay them or manipulate her way to get what she wants. After all, you fell for her little girl act for so long. If only you had seen how unstable and obsessive she really was before you had tangled yourself this far deep into the relationship. By now, it is too late to cut things off. She has nestled her way into your every day life. Wherever you look, Hedwig’s there in some way, shape of form. She has infiltrated your life like a virus. 

You hide your face in your hands. Hedwig’s a fucking spider who has intangled you in her web, slowly draining you of life until she can eat you. What should you do? You can’t go home, can’t talk to anyone you know. If you call the police, she will get away with it. Her family is in the elite class, they always get away with things. 

“Hedwig …”, you whisper frustratedly into your hands. “Why have you done this? Why have you given me this much problem? Why me?”

Your stomach growls and you wrap your arms around your body tightly. You have to find food soon. And after that … shelter. 

Hours go by. You’ve curled up by a tree to get some kind of warmth, but there’s none to be found. Your body temperature is dropping every minute go by. You have nothing to keep you company, apart from the moon. And weirdly enough, it feels like it is pitying you. 

You wake up the following morning by someone trying to catch your attention. An old woman. Your vision is blurry, but you can tell that you’ve never seen her before. 

“Hello, are you okay?” she asks worriedly. “What are you doing out here? You’re freezing!”

You can barely hear what you’re saying, you can’t feel your body. 

“Do you know who you are?” the woman asks. 

You can’t move your body, can’t answer. You’re so cold. 

“Do I need to call someone?” she asks. 

No answer. She picks up her phone and calls the police, telling them that she’s found a person who’s been sleeping outside the entire night, that they’re unresponsive and ice cold. She tells the cops a description of your characteristics. You feel like shutting your eyes again, so tired. 

“No, don’t close your eyes!” she says quickly. “You can die!”

You try to force your eyes to stay open. 

The old woman can’t carry you, so she goes to get you blankets and hot tea. While she forces a warm cup in your hands, you can tell that a white car pulls up on the road in the distance. 

That’s not a cop car. 

“Y/N!” 

The familiar, female voice causes you to drop the mug. Hedwig runs all the way over to you and throws herself at your stone cold body. Her warm face hides into your neck. 

“My God, darling, you’re freezing!” she gasps and cups your icy cheeks with her hands. “My sweetheart, I’ve been so worried!”

The men behind her thank the old lady for calling the cops and you suddenly understand what’s going on. Once again, the elite has taken over the cops. One of the men are Hedwig’s father. You gulp. This is bad. 

The old woman leaves. You want to shout out that they’re not going to help you, that it was this girl’s fault that you endured a night out in the snow for, but you can’t bring yourself to do it, not in in front of Hedwig’s father. 

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’m here now”, she says and tries to warm you up with her hands. “You could have died! I’ll never let this happen again, I promise. I’ll never let you out of my sight again!” 

She removes her expensive coat and scarf and hangs them over your shoulders, wires the scarf around your neck and blows hot air on your hands. She kisses your forehead. Two of the men, you haven’t seen them before, carry your body to the car and place you in the backseat, right next to Hedwig. She tells the chauffeur to bring up the heat to max.

“I’ve been so worried for you, sweetheart”, she says and holds your icy hands between hers while continuing to blow hot air. “Why did you do that? You scared me to death, Y/N!”

“You have given us some problems, young lady/man”, her father says from the front seat. “You’ve made my daughter very upset.”

You can’t respond. There’s something about her father that terrifies you. 

“I don’t ever want to see my little princess upset”, he continues. “I will do everything to make her happy, which means that you need to stay. Do I have to take measures to make sure that you stay with my daughter?”

You gulp and shake your head. Something’s definitely wrong about him.

“I will never let you leave me again”, Hedwig whispers in your ear. “I need you. If i don’t have you … I don’t want to live. Don’t ever try this again. Please.” She seems to realize how she sounds and shakes her head. “Please don't think I want to scare you, I just … I can’t imagine my life without you. I have to keep you with me like this. I know you understand, you’re just cold and tired.”

“You don’t have to drag in your father in your dirty business, Hedwig”, you whisper. “That’s low.”

She brings your cold hands under her shirt, shivering. While you do enjoy the heat, you keep your hands in fists. 

“You’re my everything, I had to do what was necessary, I’m sorry”, Hedwig whispers and sniffles. “No one likes me the way you do. You’re the only real person in this world. Everyone else … they’re fake. You’re so special to me.”

You don’t say anything more to her during the entire car ride. When you come back to her mansion, you’re immediately tucked into bed. Hedwig closes the door to her bedroom after her, locking it.

“Here”, she says and placed a silver tray on the bed. “Soup. The chef made it for you.” She sits down and sighs sadly. “Why did you leave me, sweetheart? What have I done? PLease tell me so I’ll make sure to never do it again. I don’t want to be without you.”

“Stop pretending”, you hiss. “You know very well. Talk to me instead of acting like a defenseless school girl.”

“What?”

“I know what you’ve done. I’ve heard your phone calls at night.”

Hedwig’s face drops and grows multiple shades lighter. At first, she doesn’t say anything. Her hands tremble as she panickedly thinks. 

“O-Oh, Y/N …”, she starts with an unsteady voice. “I never- … I never-”

“Why me, Hedwig?” you ask, not being able to bring your voice above a terrified whisper.

“Because- … because I love you.” 

“You can have anyone you want, you really can … so why me?” 

It is unbelievable. You can’t understand why you are worth killing for. What does she see in you that is that special? You could never have anticipated that someone would end human lives … for you. But then again, is anyone worth killing for?

As the realization of reality sets in, along with your exhausted form, you grow tired. 

 “I’ll have to take precautions from now on”, Hedwig says. “I love you so much, I can never let this happen again.”

“What are you going to do?” you ask coldly. “Send hitmen on me? On my family?”

“No, not you — never you. But …”

“My family, right?”

Hedwig bites her lip before groaning. “I just- … I wish that you never had tried to leave! I don’t want to do these kinds of things! They make me feel so dirty! Fuck, Y/N, why can’t you just … love me again?”

You don't answer. A single tear runs down your cheek. You can't even look at her, which drives her insane. 

“Y/N, please!” she begs and reaches for your hand, but you quickly pull away. “Don't do this to me. I love you. I really, really do!”

She starts to sniffle, then sob. You're amazed that just a little touch deprivation causes her to break down completely, but she expects you to be completely normal when people are getting murdered behind your back — on your behalf?

“I want to go home.”

“I can’t let you go, Y/N. I need you here. I can’t live without you.”

“Let me go home. Now.”

“No, Y/N. You need to stay here. I will make you stay here. If you think that I'm going to let the only one that loves me leave, you're wrong.”

“I don't … love you anymore.”

It looks like someone has punched Hedwig right in her ribs.

“Yes you do”, she says quietly, wishing.

You turn your head away.

“I'll let you be”, she says and slowly stands up. “I love you, Y/N. Please don't think I don't.”

You're forced to sleep beside her all night. You've curled up into a ball and she doesn't try to reach for you, like you had expected … but you can hear her cry. 

She leaves for school, leaving you all alone, but not before reminding you that she has people in the house that won't let you leave the premises. She tells you that you can go down to the kitchen to get yourself something to eat, but you wait in her room, as a silent protest, for as long as you can manage. When your stomach physically hurts, you sigh in defeat and walk downstairs.

Someone's sitting by the kitchen aisle. A blonde woman who twirls a wine glass slowly. Her eyes are empty, but her appearance is that of a goddess. You recognize her, first as the popular actress you used to watch, and as Hedwig's mother second. You're about to turn around and walk out when her voice stops you.

“Stay.” Her voice is low, almost strained.

You turn back and take a few, slow steps into the marble kitchen. The woman doesn't look up from her twirling, red wine.

“I heard that she found you”, she says and sighs.

You nod carefully. 

“They're very alike, you know”, she says, glancing at you, “her and her father.”

“They are?” you ask.

“Yes. Unfortunately.” She nods at the chair in front of her. “Sit down.”

Just like Hedwig’s father, her mother had something in her voice that you don't dare disobey. You sit down, still not being able to look at her.

“Do you know who I am, Y/N?” she asks, sounding like she doesn't expect much.

“I do, ma'am”, you answer. “I used to watch your movies a lot when I was younger. You were awesome.”

Hedwig’s mother smiles slightly, a genuine, warm smile.

“That makes me happy”, she says softly. “Thank you, Y/N. I was scared to have been forgotten.”

“What? No, never. You're an icon. I wish you still did movies.”

“Me too.”

“Why don't you?”

Her smile thins out. “Hedwig’s father … he's … well, let's just say he rather wants me here.” And she adds on, sour grimace on her face: “Where it is safe.”

“That sounds like what-”

“-Hedwig would say, yes. I told you … they're very alike.”

A light turns on in your head.

“Did he … did he take you, too?” you ask, carefully.

“Take and take, not exactly.” Her mother seems to think and the dull look in her eyes returns. “If only it was that quick and direct. He nestled his way into my life, infiltrating every part. First, he wanted to invite me on a date, then help with auditions, then he wanted to be my manager, then director, then boyfriend. He had control of every work related issue … always making sure I never worked intimate with any men, turning down things I really wanted to do … isolating me from my costars. When we married, he wanted me to quit all together, and wanted me to stay home with the child I was pregnant with.”

“Hedwig?”

“Yes.”

“When I was pregnant, I was wishing that she wouldn't inherit that side of her father. I hoped and prayed. But she did. I'm sorry, Y/N.”

“I'm sorry that happened to you.”

The woman gives a weak smile. “Don't be. It's happening to you now, be sorry for yourself. I'm hoping in telling you this, that you somehow can get away before it's too late.”

“Can't you … leave?”

She shakes her head. “It's too late for me.”

“No, it's not. You're still beautiful, Hollywood would love to have you back.”

“Thank you, you're very kind, Y/N. But it's not that easy. He controls more than you can ever imagine. He has made sure to be part of the industry so that I can never return.”

You gesticulate with you hands. “Then … do something else! Prove to him that he can't own you.”

“I envy your enthusiasm. But it wouldn't work, he would get into that too and sabotage for me again.”

“Why does he ruin for you? Doesn't he love you?”

“He does. He just wants me for himself.” She sighs. “I don't know how Hedwig would behave with you, if she would let you work-”

“I don't think so. She has talked about letting me stay home with her so that I could spend time on my hobbies and her taking care of our children.”

“I was afraid of that.” She stands up and downs the last of her red wine. “One thing I'm happy about, is that Hedwig has inherited her father's ability to love. They love too much, I think. And that affects the people around them. If you can't leave, Y/N, I'd advise you to play along. Life is not bad here … as long as you don't try to leave. I promise you that.”

Before she can leave the kitchen, you have to ask her one final question.

“Excuse me, ma'am”, you say and watch how she gives you a look. “Did … did he ever kill for you?”

She doesn't answer.

When Hedwig returns that afternoon, she has a big basket in her hands, and a bouquet of roses.

“Please forgive me for everything I've done”, she whispers and places them both in front of you before sinking down on her knees. “I'm so sorry.”

The basket is filled with your favorite snacks, a few boxes of jewelry and a designer scarf.

“I did what I thought would solve the problem”, she whispers, shaking her head regretfully. “I wanted the people that hurt you yo get what they deserved. I don't have a good explanation for the people that … didn't do anything. I just couldn't bare to see you interact with someone that wasn't me.”

“You're a stupid girl, Hedwig”, you say coldly.

“Yes, yes I am”, she sniffles. “I'm an idiot. Please forgive me.”

You thought back on what her mother had said about how life wasn't bad if you actually did what Hedwig wanted. You looked at her. She really did look like an innocent school girl, sitting on her knees in her school uniform with her hands clasped together, begging for forgiveness with tears streaming down her face. You start to feel bad for her. She is an only child to a pair of parents who went through a weird, macabre relationship. Of course she would want someone to love her and stay with her forever. You have feelings for her, you can't kill them, even if you really want to. Maybe this was what her mother felt, that she really loved Hedwig’s father that much, that she couldn't leave him … and because she knew that he would never let her leave. 

If you stay, people won't get hurt. And maybe, just maybe, you can change her. 

“I … I forgive you …”

[taurasiluvr]

Can I request CC being pissed asf after losing a game so she fks her gf with strap using all that pent up anger

absolutely need that

caitlin was nothing short of pissed.

the game had been a disaster from start to finish. the opposing team had taken an early lead, scoring within the first few minutes, and things had only gone downhill from there. despite their best efforts, her team had been outplayed at every turn. passes were intercepted, shots missed the mark, and their defense was like a sieve, letting through shot after shot.

by the time the final whistle blew, the scoreboard read a humiliating defeat. caitlin had given it her all, running herself ragged trying to turn the tide, but it hadn’t been enough. she could feel the frustration boiling over as she stormed off the court, barely acknowledging the half-hearted pats on the back from her teammates.

in the locker room, the atmosphere was tense. no one dared to speak, each player lost in their own thoughts of what had gone wrong. caitlin ripped off her basketball shoes, throwing them against the wall with a loud thud. she slumped onto the bench, her head in her hands, trying to calm the raging storm inside her.

she was glad she had someone back home, who could soothe her frustration and help her get back the confidence she needed to have for the next game.

that was how you ended up on your stomach, getting absolutely wrecked by caitlin's favorite strap. your face was pushed against the pillows however, it didn't do much to stop your noises from echoing throughout your bedroom.

"fuck," caitlin muttered, her hips snapping harshly. she was absolutely relentless, her pace punishing and unyielding. each thrust drove you deeper into the mattress, your body writhing with the intensity of it all.

"you like that?" she growled, her voice low and rough. "like being my stress relief, baby?"

you could only moan in response, your hands clutching the sheets as you tried to hold on. the pressure was building inside you, each powerful thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

caitlin's hand came down on your ass with a sharp smack, making you yelp. "answer me," she demanded, her pace never faltering.

"yes," you gasped, your voice muffled by the pillow. "love it, i love being yours."

"good," she hissed, her hand sliding up your back, pressing you further into the bed. "because i’m not stopping until i’ve fucked all that frustration out of my system."

her words sent a shiver down your spine, the intensity of her need driving you wild. she pounded into you harder, the rhythm of her hips merciless and precise. the sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure mixed with just the right amount of pain.

caitlin’s free hand reached around to your front, her fingers finding your clit. she began to rub in tight circles, adding another layer of sensation that made your body quiver. "cum for me," she commanded, her voice dark and demanding. "wanna feel you cum around my cock."

you were on the brink, the combination of her relentless thrusts and the pressure on your clit pushing you over the edge. with a cry, you came hard, your body convulsing with the intensity of your orgasm. your inner walls clenched around her strap, your vision blurring as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

caitlin didn’t stop, riding out your orgasm with powerful thrusts, her fingers never ceasing their movement. she watched you in the mirror, her eyes dark with satisfaction as you fell apart beneath her.

when you finally came down from your high, your body trembling and spent, caitlin slowed her pace, gently easing out of you. she leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your back, her earlier anger and frustration replaced with a tender affection.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[potatoplace]

Mastermind - Part 2

Dark!Feysand x Reader

Part 1 | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: Your friend of a few months, Feyre, invited you out for a celebratory drink over your new job, and of course her husband Rhys joins you. The night doesn't go quite as planned, and you end up back at their place with very few wits about you.

Warnings: non-con, abduction, being kept prisoner, smut, drug use (pot)

Words: ~5k

Author's Note: it's here! Feyre... you live in my head rent free so often... also this is just like a purely self indulgent fic at this point, I think it'll be a mini-series. Please read the warnings!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

You woke up with a headache and a confusing ache between your legs.

Your bed was comfier than usual, and so, so warm. Almost like you had a heated blanket going. You mouth cracked open into a yawn, and you stretched your limbs as far as you could-

Which wasn't far.

Both your legs and arms bumped into something solid and warm, surrounding you on both sides.

Your eyes flew open, very, very confused when you saw your friend Feyre laying to your right, and her husband Rhys on your left and-

You're naked.

Completely bare between the two of them, with absolutely no memory of how you got there. Your face flushed with heat.

God, what have I done?

Your tried to wiggle your way out from between the two of them, but one of Rhys's arms merely locked tighter around you, pulling you further against him.

He's naked. You could feel him hardening against you already as he stirred slightly, burying his face in your hair.

You struggled slightly, trying to move away from him, he's your friend's husband for crying out loud.

"What's wrong, sweetness?" Feyre's sleep heavy voice asked from your right. Her hand moved up your thigh and over your stomach, coming to rest between your breasts.

You pushed her hand off of you. "I'm so confused right now, Fey, why are Rhys and I naked? I should go," you said, moving to sit up, but Feyre's hand shot out to keep you down, and between her and Rhys you were powerless to move.

"You're never going to leave us again, darling," Feyre said, wiggling closer to you and pressing her body against yours- she was naked as well.

What the fuck did I do last night?

"Feyre, let me up," you demanded, doing your best to get her hand off of you, but in your struggle you must have woken Rhys up.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" His sultry voice sent shivers down your spine. Your always found it attractive, but now? Trapped between him and your best friend? You wanted nothing more than to bolt out of their apartment and back to yours and never come back out.

"Rhysie, she's trying to leave," Feyre said poutily, hand rubbing circles onto your stomach.

"And why would our sweet little kitten want to leave, hmm?" He asked, lips finding your neck and pressing soft kisses along the expanse of it. "You were so happy last night, sweet thing, what changed?"

You shook your head- this was wrong, all of this was wrong. And Rhys's lips had brought to your attention something wrapped around your neck snugly.

"This isn't right, I can't even remember what happened last night," you said, tears leaking from your eyes now, and you brought a hand up to your throat, fingering the fabric on your neck. Is it leather? Is it-

"You put a collar on me?" You asked, disbelief in your voice as your fingers attempted to tear the item from your body.

"I figured you might freak out, sweetness," Feyre tutted from beside you, a hand raising your grasp both of yours. "You're ours now, Y/N, you just need a little help realizing that. That's what the cute little collar is for, just to keep you from running away like the silly little kitten I think you might be." Feyre's voice was soft but condescending as she explained it to you, but you were still so lost.

"I don't understand, Fey," you cried, attempting to pull your body out of their embraces. "We're friends, you're married. This isn't okay."

Rhys shushed you, running his hands over your hair. "We might be married, but you're the secret missing piece we've been looking for, kitten. From the moment Feyre introduced me to you, I knew what she meant when she said she had to have you. Neither of us can resist how absolutely sweet and lovely you are." You went to open your mouth to protest, but Feyre's mouth covered yours in a heated kiss. "You'll realize just how much you can't resist us either, soon," Rhys added when he felt you involuntarily relax into Feyre's dominating hold over you.

"As for the not remembering last night..." Feyre started when she finally pulled away from claiming your mouth. "I think I know the perfect way to fix that," she said with a smirk, already moving down below the blankets and between your thighs.

"Feyre stop," you pleaded. "I don't want this, I want to go home," you cried, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Really?" Feyre asked with a smirk, dragging a finger through your folds and collecting the wetness that had pooled there. "Because this sweet little pussy says otherwise."

Tears fell from your eyes faster, shame welling within you as Feyre sucked her finger clean, closing her eyes as she did so. Feyre lowered her mouth to your sex in the next moment, not wasting any time in working you up to your breaking point.

You were still so sensitive from whatever they had done to you last night, and with Feyre’s tongue working your clit like magic you could hardly keep yourself still, even as Rhys pinned down your torso. One of his hands was fondling your breast and keeping you in the bed while the other ran through your hair and kept your face tilted towards Feyre.

You could see her face well again, now that the blanket had slid further down the bed while you twitched and writhed in their hold and against the pleasure Feyre was giving you. Her eyes were locked on your face, taking in every detail as you got closer and closer to the brink with every delicious swipe of her tongue.

To you it was wrong, all wrong. You didn’t want to be reacting, to even be warming their bed at all, yet you were trapped here as the couple worked you into your first orgasm of the morning against your will.

The strangled moan that left your throat was enough to have Feyre smirking up at you from between your thighs.

“See? You love us, and what we can give you. And we love you, Y/N.”

“No you don’t, Feyre, this isn’t love,” you cried softly, too tired and ashamed to put up much of fight anymore.

“It is, darling. We love you,” Rhys reiterated, peppering your neck and face with kisses as if to prove his point. “Now, will you let us feed you? I imagine you’re hungry after all the work we did last night,” he said with a dirty grin, two fingers pinching your right nipple.

Feyre began to move back up the bed and you took the opportunity to roll to your right into the spot that she had occupied while the three of you slept. Feyre sighed.

“Rhys, you can go take a shower and then start breakfast, okay? I’ll get this one into the shower after a little more… persuasion,” Feyre said in a disappointed tone.

Rhys chuckled, but got up from the bed anyway and walked into the bathroom. “Tell me pancakes or waffles after I come back out, darling.”

Feyre’s hands were pulling your back against her front snugly, allowing no room for you to escape the soft press of her body. Once you’d calmed a bit, she let one of her hands snake down between your thighs, gathering a bit of wetness from your center and then rubbing quick circles on your clit.

So sensitive. Her deft fingers brought you to completion twice in the time it took Rhys to finish showering and enter the room for his clothing.

You were a whimpering mess by the time he rounded to the side of the bed you were facing, leaning into Feyre’s embrace as she forced you closer and closer to a third orgasm in such rapid succession.

“I see, you’re just more comfortable with Feyre, hmm?” Rhys asked as he pulled your lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. “I guess I’ll just have to spend every waking second of the next week getting you used to me,” Rhys said with a smile before heading to leave the room.

“Pancakes,” Feyre told him, right as her fingers brought you to your fourth orgasm of the morning.

“Got it, darling. Make sure to actually get her in the shower, okay?”

Feyre’s merely lowered her lips to the left side of your neck, sucking a pair of dark, claiming marks over the spaces that Rhys had left unmarked.

Your breathy, contented sigh shocked you so thoroughly you jerked from Feyre’s hold finally and landed on the carpeting.

“Oh, sweetness, still afraid of liking us?” Feyre asked amusedly, bringing herself to the edge of the bed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over that in a couple of days, I think. Unless you decide to be a brat and fight your fate which, I might add, is useless. Rhys and I love you, Y/N.”

You shook your head at her words. “This is wrong, Feyre, you know it’s wrong. You can’t just keep me here,” you said indignantly, getting up from the floor on shaky legs and attempting to cover yourself with your arms.

“Why not?”

You scoffed. “Because, Feyre, I am a human being and not a pet. I have a life and people that care about me, you can’t just abduct me and get away with it!”

“People that care about you? You have me, Y/N. Your family is mostly dead and the ones that are alive, you don’t talk to! And you even told me that I’m the first friend you made in Velaris, you belong with me. You have belonged to me ever since I first saw you in that coffee shop.”

“What about my job? I have a job, Feyre, they will be worried when I don’t actually start in a few days,” you told her desperately, hoping for any shred of the kindness you’d thought your friend had possessed before today to shine through.

“At the marketing firm? Rhys owns it, sweetie, his cousin Mor manages it. She already knows that you won’t be starting, you have a much better life set up for you now.”

You stared at her in shock. Had everything about your life recently been one big set up?

"What did you do Feyre?" You asked her, despair lacing your tone. If she was telling the truth, then there was no way out of this for you. And-

Oh my god. Your apartment here. Feyre had recommended it.

"I didn't do anything, Y/N. I suggested the job at the marketing firm because you were working yourself to the bone at that coffee shop, dear. I couldn't stand to see you suffer," Feyre explained, prowling across the room to stand in front of you. You were backed against the corner of the room now, with nowhere to go. "And I suggested the apartment here because we have good security, and I've seen the way your regulars would look at you, like they were just waiting to snatch you when the opportunity presented itself." One of Feyre's hands comes up to cup your face, following you as you turned away, still finding its mark. She turned your face back to look at her, and her eyes held such a fiercely protective look, you almost couldn't get your next words out.

"How are you any better than them?" You asked quietly, instantly taking note of how her eyes darkened with anger. "You snatched me away, Feyre, not any of those men. So how are you-"

Feyre surged forward, cutting your words off by slotting her mouth over yours. The kiss was harsh, claiming as she pulled your naked body against hers even as you struggled and tried to pull away.

"I love you, Y/N. And I would never, ever hurt you..." Feyre trailed off as her fingers played with your hair once you'd stopped fighting her. You opened your mouth to refute that claim, but she started speaking before you could. "I am not hurting you, sweetness. You simply don't know what is best for you right now, and sometimes we just need to be shown the right path." You went to argue again- "Now, if you don't shower with me, you won't be given any clothes to wear for the next week," Feyre said with finality.

Fight her, continue to feel disgusting in the off chance that she doesn't still force you to shower, and have no clothes for a whole seven days, or don't fight her, deal with it this once, and have clothes.

You didn't fight as Feyre steered you by the shoulders into their grand bathroom, stopping by the large triple sink counter. She carefully removed the collar from your neck with some type of key, then led you straight into the massive shower that had four huge, separate shower heads- one on each of the three walls, and one overhead.

You turned around right as Feyre started the shower, turning on just the three wall spouts. Water hit you from three sides, and Feyre came at you from the remaining one.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" Feyre asked softly as she ran her hands over your body, passing over your nipples far more times than you felt was necessary. You shook your head. All that you could vaguely remember was getting to the bar Feyre had suggested. “That’s too bad, sweetness. You were very eager last night,” she said with a smile, and your cheeks flushed. “Don’t worry, at some point you’ll be able to admit to yourself how much you want us. For now we’ll just keep reminding you how much we want you.”

Feyre gently tipped your head back to wet your hair, taking her time to get it soaked in the warm spray. Her nails scratched lightly along your scalp, and you nearly sighed at the soft gesture.

This is not the same friend you’ve known all these months, you reminded yourself.

Before today, you would have never guessed you would be taking a shower with Feyre. A small part of you had maybe dreamed about it, but never would you have thought it would become a reality. Especially with the added element of you being forced.

Still, you couldn’t help but relax into Feyre’s gentle grasp and she shampooed your hair, then rinsed the lather from it, being careful to not get any suds in your eyes. The shampoo smelled just like the one you used before all of this happened. Strange. When Feyre began putting a thick conditioner in your hair, you realized it.

They don’t just smell like the products you use at home, they are the products you use at home.

Your accusatory glare hit Feyre once she was done rubbing the conditioner in.

“What?” Feyre asked innocently as she wet her own hair.

“Why do you know what products I use?”

Feyre smiled. “I pay attention, dear. I wanted to make the transition as comfortable as possible for you, so I got everything I could think of that you use regularly. Now, will you help me wash my hair?”

You didn’t move.

“Pleaaase, Y/N?” Feyre asked again, a pouty look on her face now, one that you were rarely able to resist.

“Fine. Which bottles?” You conceded, grabbing the shampoo bottle she pointed to and squeezing some out into the palm of your hand. You lathered it up, then set to working it through Feyre’s thick, golden brown hair. When you rinsed her hair, you wanted to let soap run into her eyes, but couldn’t let yourself for some reason. You repeated the process of working the conditioner through Feyre’s hair, and once you were done she turned around to fade you again.

“Time to rinse yours, cutie,” Feyre said, already tipping your head back into the water to rid your hair of conditioner. Again, her nails scraped along your scalp gently, just enough to get your body to relax more. When she finished, she grabbed a cloth and loaded it with body wash, one that smelled of lilacs and pears- very Feyre. Feyre soaped up your body slowly, lingering in the sensitive areas as long as she could before you started to fight her hold again. She helped you rinse off, then extended the cloth to you. “Do me?”

You shook your head. No. “I already washed your hair, Feyre, just let me get out please.”

Feyre sighed, and started washing her body. “You can’t get out yet, you still need to wash your face. I’d suggest it after last night,” Feyre said with a wink, and your stomach churned.

You don’t really want to know what that comment was about. But you wash and exfoliate your face nonetheless, using the identical products to those you had before, finishing just as Feyre was done washing her own face.

She turned the water off, and grabbed two fluffy towels off of the rack for the both of you. She wrapped one around herself, then patted you dry, taking her time to get every inch of skin and dry your hair as much as she could before she dried herself off.

Feyre went to the sink closest to the shower, and you spotted all of your skincare and hair care products lined up attractively behind the middle sink. Feyre was already doing her routine as you examined the bottles and jars, picking out what you wanted to use.

At least they’re giving you something normal.

Once the two of you had finished, Feyre locked the collar back onto your neck, then pulled you back into their bedroom, the massive bed lurking in your vision no matter where you turned. Feyre grabbed two sets of clothing, pulling on her own outfit. First was a lacy black set of lingerie that looked flawless on her, then a pair of black leggings, a rich brown sweater, and slippers.

She then forced you to let her dress you, slipping a pair of blush pink panties up your legs to settle snugly on your hips, and a matching colored bralette over your breasts, which she had for once refrained from squeezing. Your arms were lifted above your head to let a soft pink, long sleeved peasant dress fall over your body, and you were instructed to sit to allow Feyre to put white knee high socks onto your legs and slip your feet into cute pink slipper booties. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as Feyre dragged you out of the bedroom. You look cute, if you had to describe the outfit. It’s similar enough to the style you wear on your off time, though everything seems to be made of higher quality materials than what you were able to afford.

The door to the bedroom led to a short hallway, which Feyre led you to the open end of, coming out in the living room. The two of you walked to dining table, near the far end of the open concept room. There was already a good amount of food on the table, and Rhys was just walking away from the stove with a large plate of pancakes in hand, a large smile spreading across his face when he spotted the both of you.

“And I was just thinking I might have to come and get you girls,” he said with a grin. “Come and sit down, breakfast is ready.”

Rhys pulled out a chair for you, pushing you in once you’d sat down and repeated the gesture with Feyre, who was sitting to your left. Rhys then took the seat to your right at the head of the table and began piling food onto your plate. A couple of sausages, pieces of bacon, chunks of cut up melon, and of course pancakes.

You didn’t think you could eat.

If you had woken up in a separate bed this morning, all of this would feel normal enough. Feyre and Rhys had let you stay over once before, and the following morning had a breakfast similar to this.

But everything had changed, you weren’t here because your friends were kind and invited you, you were here because they had trapped you here. You had a collar wrapped around your neck, that alone would be reason enough for you to want to leave.

“Eat up, darling,” Rhys said as he moved on to plating his own food.

You stayed still, staring down at the food that had your stomach turning.

Feyre’s elbow nudged you gently, and you instinctively looked to your left.

“Go ahead and eat, Y/N,” Feyre said gently. When you still didn’t move, she sighed. “Not eating won’t do anything for you, sweetness. Have just one of everything, please,” she begged, using her soft eyes that were so hard to resist.

So, even with your stomach protesting, you lifted a bite of pancake to your mouth, chewing and swallowing but tasting nothing. Maybe if you play along for a little bit, they’ll let their guard down and you can escape.

Feyre and Rhys chatted about their jobs as the three of you ate- Feyre about her studio, and Rhys about the various businesses under the Night Corporation umbrella. You choked down each bite of food, doing your best to keep attention off of you.

A phone ringing cut through their chatter, and Feyre sighed as she picked it up.

“What?” She asked, annoyance clear in her tone. “Can’t you deal with it? I have something important today,” Feyre said, shooting a smile your way. The person on the other end replied with something that made Feyre groan. “Fine, I’ll be there in a half hour.”

Feyre dropped her phone onto the table and ran her hands over her eyes. “Well, I have to go into the studio, apparently the art class has taken a drastic turn that only I can fix,” Feyre whined. “Will you be okay here with just Rhys, sweetness?”

You raised a brow at her. “As though I have a choice?”

Rhys chuckled at your words. “That’s true, Fey, she’s stuck with me for the day. I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry.” Dread pooled in your stomach at his words. You don’t want to know what type of ‘care’ he has in mind.

Feyre was still staring at you, like she wanted to say something, then looked away when she stood up. “I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour, but I’ll text you to let you know if there’s anything that will hold me up,” she remarked as she placed a kiss on Rhys’s cheek, and one on yours as well. “Love you guys!” Feyre said as she was walking out of the door, purse in hand.

“Love you darling!”

In the silence that followed the door slamming shut, the dread in your stomach grew.

“So, would you like a little tour?” Rhys asked, already stacking your breakfast plates together.

You stared at him. “A tour?”

Rhys smiled. “Yes, darling, a tour. You need to know your way around now that you’re living here. And don’t say no, this is mandatory,” he added when you shook your head.

He placed the dishes in the sink before smoking back to the table, pull in out your chair and extending a hand to help you stand. You ignore it, standing on your own, which made Rhys sigh.

“Right this way, darling,” Rhys said, pulling you by the hand back towards the hallway containing their bedroom. You dug your feet into the ground, unwilling to enter the bedroom with him. Rhys stopped walking and turned to face you. “What’s the problem, doll?”

“I am not going to take this sham of a ‘tour’ if it just means that you’re going to rape me.”

Rhys’s eyes softened at your words, and he pulled you into a hug even as your tried to resist his hold. “Oh, darling. You won’t have to worry about that. I won’t fuck you until you are begging for my cock.”

“Like that will ever happen,” you spat, finally wrenching yourself free of his grasp.

“Oh, it will,” Rhys said assuredly, smirking down at you. “Now, will you let me give you the tour?”

You sighed, but did feel mildly better knowing that he supposedly wouldn’t be forcing himself on you. “Fine."

He continued to lead you back down the hallway their their bedroom resided, but stopped at the doorway opposite it. He swung it open, and gestured for you to walk inside. When you did, your jaw dropped.

It’s as though they had gone into your mind and plucked your perfect bedroom out of it just to recreate it here. The walls were in a soft, dusty pink color with a pale cream ceiling. There was fluffy pink carpet on the floor, looking so soft and squishy you wanted to be barefoot on it. At the far end of the room was a large canopy bed, decorated in hues of pink and purple, with a mound of pillows against the wall. There was a dresser and large closet off to the left, and on the right there was a small sitting area gathered around a table with a tv on it, your favorite consoles already lined up and plugged in, along with stacks and stacks of your favorite games. There was even a cute pink mini fridge and little snack shelf, all filled with your favorites.

“Do you like it?” Rhys asked hesitantly from his place in the doorway.

“Do I-?” You stopped to laugh. “Do I like it? It’s like the two of your read my mind. How?”

Rhys’s cheeks colored slightly as he met your eyes. “Feyre had the idea to look through your Pinterest, and you had a board dedicated to your dream room, so she worked tirelessly to get this ready for you.”

The thought and effort would have been sweet- were they not keeping you here against your will.

You just sighed and shook your head. “Is there more to the tour?”

Rhys nodded and grabbed you by the hand once more. He showed you around to the various guest rooms, the guest bathroom, then to Feyre’s home studio and his office, and finally you were back to the living room. The two of you were stood in front of the couches, looking out at their pool and massive patio.

“Do you want to play a game together?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the double TV and console set up in front of you. “We can play whatever you want, you can even play alone,” he offered.

Strangely, this request put you at ease even more than him saying he wouldn’t fuck you. Almost like it confirmed that the Rhys you had known was still in there, just… different. Darker.

“I don’t know…”

“We could smoke a joint,” Rhys said in a sing-songy voice, having grabbed one out of a box on the coffee table. “Or two. Or three. Just something to help you get your mind of things, maybe?”

The offer was tempting. You could pretend like you were just hanging out at your friends’ house and playing a video game with him.

“Sure, why not?”

The feeling of smoke filling your lungs calmed you down, settling you into a sleepy state where you weren’t thinking about the situation and how fucked up it is, just the passing flow of the river of your thoughts. You and Rhys shared two joints together on the patio, passing it between puffs.

“You know that Feyre cares about you, right?” Rhys asked as he took the second lit joint from you. You exhaled the smoke from your mouth, watching as it was whipped away by the wind.

“I don’t know that I would call this,” you gestured around you and at the collar, “caring about me.”

Rhys sighed. “But it is, Y/N. I know we went about it in a twisted way, but Feyre and I truly want you to be happy and safe. And before you ask, no, I won’t let you go. Just give us some time, you’ll come see how nice your life can be here and how much we care about you.”

You took the joint back from him with a pout, annoyed with him now. Sure, they care about me enough to steal me away and lock me up, but not enough to let me make the choice myself.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Rhys laughed sadly. “No, you don’t. But giving us a chance will make this much more enjoyable for you.”

You took another long drag before passing the joint back to Rhys’s waiting fingers.

“Will you… would you convince Feyre to not… touch me until I’m begging?” You asked hopefully, knowing that that day would never come now.

Rhys eyed you carefully. “I can talk to her about that, if it would make you feel more at ease around us darling."

A weight was lifted off your chest at his confirmation that he would wrangle Feyre in. He let you take the last drag before putting the joint out, and followed you back into the living room.

“Do you have Minecraft?” You asked hopefully, wanting to dick around and maybe build a cute house.

“Of course, darling,” Rhys said, booting up the TVs and consoles, passing a pink controller to you.

Within a couple of minutes, the two of you were as focused on the blocky game as you could be, your minds covered in a weed soaked haze.

Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff (let me know if you want to stay on the taglist for the mini series!)

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Daddy wonu w/ his kitten is back

- 🧃

18+ video!

tw: dom!wonwoo, sub fem!reader, use of sex toys, spanking, daddy kink, manhandling, use of petnames, mild pet play, degradation - minors dni.

"Are you sure this is for me?" Wonwoo asks you with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, is there something wrong with it?" You bat your eyelashes innocently, fighting to suppress the itch of your mouth to form a grin.

"Absolutely nothing." He shrugs. "Does that mean I can use it however I see fit?"

"Well, it's yours, after all."

"Good thing I asked then." He smiles at you sweetly, but you know there's a dark glint in his eyes.

"Do you have something specific in mind, Wonu?" You tilt your head sideways.

He takes another look at the fluffy white tail plug in his hands and his eyes flicker between you and the toy, his smile turning into a sardonic toothy grin.

"Oh, definitely." He taps the toy in his palm.

"Ah!" You cry out, nails scratching the tiles of the floor.

"Is my pretty kitty clawing out the floor?" Wonwoo runs the whip over your ass.

"Y-Yes, Daddy." You whimper.

"Does it hurt when I spank your pretty ass?"

"N-No."

"That's good to know." He chuckles and snaps the whip over your ass again, forcing another moan out of your mouth. You rub your thighs again and the plug in your ass doesn't make things easier for you.

"You're taking this so well, kitty, I'm impressed." He slaps the whip twice in a row and you struggle to keep your balance on your fours.

"T-Thank you Daddy." You respond with earnest, pussy clenching around emptiness, your juices starting to drip down your thighs.

"Aww, is kitty in her heat already?" Wonwoo runs the whip over your pussy and the slick soils the leather toy. "Does she need a fat cock in her needy cunt?"

"I'd l-love that- Fuck!" You cry out when he slaps your ass harder than before.

"I don't think pets are in the position to demand things, kitty." He clicks his tongue.

"I'm s-sorry, Daddy, I won't do it again!" You plead.

"That's what I was hoping to hear." He runs his hand over your ass and fiddles with the tail plug, thrusting it in your hole.

"D-Daddy-" You push your ass higher to get more friction, but he pushes you down and almost pulls out the toy completely.

"I told you to behave." He picks up the whip again, dragging it over your back.

"I can't h-help it!"

Wonwoo sits back again and swipes the whip over your skin repeatedly, until there are red streaks forming on your ass.

"That's too bad, because naughty pets should be taught a lesson to learn their place."

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Right person, Wrong time | Hopelessly Devoted to You Part 3

Summary: Part 3 to this. Elliot crosses a line, and you turn to Harry, once again.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, and domestic violence. Crying, cursing and alcohol too.

(previous part here) | (main masterlist)

“What?!”

His face was in pure shock, anger clearly bubbling inside him. He had clenched his fists beside him shortly after that, 

You looked down at your lap, staring at your nails. 

“Look at me”

He demanded, almost ready to get up from the couch and storm at you if you didn’t listen.

You tilted your face up, looking directly into his eyes as he fumed with anger.

You dreaded this moment for so long. Tell him that you were going for a divorce. Even though Harry told you it would be better if you threw the divorce papers at his face, but you wanted to do it in a more civilized way.

After all, he had been your husband for 5 years, and there was a child involved.

“Yeah…” you blurted out after a breath or two, and he shook his head, smiling.

“You’re kidding, right? This is just some���what do they call it? Prank. A prank to make me softer, huh?”

You shook your head in no.

“You’re divorcing me?!” he asked, as if that wasn’t the entire point of discussion, and the exact sentence you had started the conversation with.

“Yeah.” you sighed.

He got up from his place, taking long strides and coming to you, hovering over you.

“You’re going to divorce me? You’re nothing, Y/n. How the fuck did you get the balls anyways? Huh? You met someone when you went on that little camping trip with Ellie?”

You never suspected him to find that out.

“Oh, I knew it. Should’ve just locked you at home and I should have been to go with her. Who is that bastard anyway? Huh? Fucking brainwashed you into believing that you can leave me? ME?!” he yelled.

You flinched slightly but never broke eye contact. You knew you had to be strong right now if you wanted things to go your way.

“I will leave you. I am going to leave you. And I’ll fucking make sure I take Ellie with me.” 

And that was when he lost it. He raised his hand at you, aiming to hit you across the face with it, but you stopped him. Grabbed his hand immediately and pushed him away, and he fell on the floor.

And then, you ran for your life.

You ran to the nearest room, and immediately locked it, placing a chair for extra safety.

A few moments passed, and the house was completely silent. You had been witty enough to leave Ellie at your mom’s, and had told her that you were going on a date with Elliot.

It was the complete opposite of what was happening currently.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of a vase breaking, and you knew he was at the peak. He would have killed you if you had been outside right now. 

Vases, a couple of utensils, and then you heard the front door close and shut. Then, a few moments later, his car drove away.

You sighed in relief, unlocking the door to go back and clean up the mess he had made.

***

Harry was stressed.

He knew he had to figure out everything perfectly, before you applied for the divorce because he knew Elliot the asshole would appeal in a family court. And he never wanted him to get the custody of little Ellie.

He would fight his best to make sure you get all you deserve, and he is left with nothing. He would make sure of it, because you deserve nothing less than the absolute best.

Maybe this was the hopeless romantic in him speaking, but he would have it the same either way.

He was out drinking after work that night, sitting alone on the bar and taking small sips of his martini.

Another gentleman came in shortly and sat beside him. Harry gave him a once over, and he could tell he had been in a fight.

His nostrils were flared, face was full of anger. His knuckles were red too, signaling he had broken stuff.

“Spiced rum, on the rocks' ' he said, and the bartender behind the bar nodded, before turning around and getting his drink ready.

Odd drink for a Thursday night, Harry thought.

As soon as he gave him the drink, he drank it all in a few sips, without stopping, and placed the glass back, a little too harshly, immediately ordering another.

An alcoholic.

He saw Harry eyeing him, so he spoke up, “Something wrong, man”” he asked, the frown on his face consistent.

He shook his head, speaking to him as politely as possible.

“No–uh, nothing, I was just curious about your drink”

Normally, someone would stop the conversation, minding their own business. But, he wanted to pry.

“Something weird about it?”

He shook his head quickly, because the last thing he wanted, was to get in a fight with a stranger, who was an alcoholic.

“Hmm”

He grunted, and he drank 4 more of the same drink. He called for the check, and fished his wallet from his pockets. He pulled out his card, and placed it on the table.

The bartender was busy with someone else, so Harry got a look at the name on it.

“Elliot Harris”

Like Y/n Harris.

So he was the Elliot who he was going to fight against a couple weeks later.

Sweet.

***

He didn’t go home that night. Maybe it was because of the news you had shared with him, or maybe it was because he never wanted to see your face again.

But he did want to know where Ellie was, so he called his parents. They said they didn’t have her, so he figured she would be with your parents, and without a second thought, began to drive to your place.

All the while he was drunk.

Harry had called you as soon as he got out of the bar and asked a million times if you were okay. You assured him that Elliot didn’t hit you, just tried to. But you were safe from your monster of a husband.

He let out a sigh of relief, before hanging up, but he also told you that he was quite drunk, and had driven away in a haste.

He wouldn’t come home, you knew that.

And he would go to your mom’s.

You dialled her number as soon as Harry hung up, and told her to lock all doors and windows, and put Ellie to sleep. Elliot was drunk, and would definitely go there and make a scene, all of which would get recorded in the security camera she had outside, and that would help your case.

And by God’s grace, it turned out exactly as you had anticipated, and everything was recorded, how he yelled and threw stuff at your gate, telling her to give him her daughter back. Thankfully, Ellie was asleep, and your mom had also made her wear noise-cancelling headphones.

And the next day, you gave the footage to Harry.

“You think–this would help us?” 

You had been super cautious since the morning and kept the house locked at all times. You changed the lock too, so he would not be able to enter without you letting him in.

And then you drove over to Harry’s law office and gave him the footage.

He was so happy about it. Not only was he an eyewitness to all that had happened, but they also had proof that he was an alcoholic and was abusive.

Harry was going to win this trial. He was sure of it. But would his feelings for you also win?

***

The next day, you drove Ellie to school. She was scared of her father, you could tell. But she still had no idea what was going on.

You had brought her home the day after. Ellliot hadn’t shown up for two days, so you figured he was staying at a hotel, still angry at you about the divorce. Good for all three of you.

Ellie was sitting on the seat beside you, a look of seriousness on her face, contrasting to the happiness that used to be when you drove her. You were dreading that she was going to ask something, and you wished it wasn’t so bad.

 “Is daddy angry, mommy?” she asked, and your heart fell. She was so sweet and innocent; but seeing her father get angry like that must have broken her heart.

“Yes, cupcake. But that was nothing to worry about, okay? Daddy is not angry anymore”

You lied.

“But–but mommy, why isn’t he coming home, then?”

“It’s ‘cause he has work in some other city”

You hoped she wouldn’t ask what work he had, or what city he was in. But her expression was more of a confused one.

“But–but mommy! He came to pick me up from school the other day, with some uncle”

“What?!”

Your heart raced as panic seized you. Elliot had come to pick Ellie up from school? With a stranger? The thought sent chills down your spine, your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. How could he be so reckless, especially after what had happened between you two?

Maintaining your composure for Ellie's sake, you gripped the steering wheel tighter, your mind racing with emotions. Fear, anger, and a profound sense of protectiveness surged within you, fueling your need to shield Ellie from any harm.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to Ellie, your voice calm but firm. "Ellie, can you tell me more about this uncle–who came with Daddy?"

Ellie hesitated, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. "He was big, Mommy. And he had tattoos all over his arms. Daddy said he was his friend, but I didn't recognize him. I didn't want to go with them."

Your heart etched at her words. How could he do something like that? How could he put Ellie in such danger, exposing her to a stranger without a second thought? What if something wrong happened? You shook your head, not wanting your mind to think more about it.

Turning to face her, you reached out and gently squeezed her hand, offering her a reassuring smile. "Ellie, sweetheart, I want you to know that no matter what happens, Mommy will always be here to keep you safe. You don't ever have to be afraid, okay?"

She nodded, her little fingers holding yours, and you felt so sad while dropping her off. You wanted to hold her close to you and never let her go.

Ellie walked out of the car, and came running to the other side. She kissed your cheek, murmuring, “I love you, mommy,” before kissing you once again, and walking inside, fixing her backpack that was falling off one shoulder.

And as you watched her walk away, you couldn’t help but think about what he had done. That was insane of him, and you were not going to let him get away with this so easily.

***

Harry was engrossed in paperwork when you reached his office. His brow furrowed in concentration, his mind fully immersed in the task at hand. But as soon as his eyes fell upon you, his expression softened, and a warm smile graced his lips.

You entered his office with a gloomy and scared face, your shoulders slumped with worries.

"Y/n," Harry greeted, his voice laced with concern as he rose from his seat. "Is everything alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You took a seat opposite to him. Harry's presence gave you comfort during the chaos.

"I...I don't know where to begin, Harry," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"It's Elliot...he's...he's crossed a line, Harry. I'm scared for Ellie, for myself...I don't know what to do."

Harry's expression softened further, his eyes filled with empathy as he reached out and gently squeezed your hand. "Tell me everything, Y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but firm. "I'm here for you, whatever you need."

You opened up, telling him everything that your daughter had told you. His expression shifted as soon as he heard it all, his face now matching yours.

“I don’t know what to do, Harry. I–I feel so scared. Not for myself, but for Ellie. What if–wif, what if he took her away that day, Harry? What–what would I do, then? I–”

He got up from his chair, walking across the table and coming to sit by your side. He held your hand, tears welling in your eyes as you laid your head on his shoulders and cried.

"Take a deep breath, Y/n. We'll figure this out together," he reassured you. "I'm here for you," he said softly, his words a reminder that you were not alone in this fight. He was there for you, always. No matter how worse it got, no matter what happened.

“Thank–thank you, Harry” you said, and he nodded, stroking your back and trying to calm you down. 

Once you did calm down, you realized how close he was. Your head was now on his chest, right on his heart and you could hear his heartbeat thump in your ears. The two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, and the smell of his cologne invaded your senses.

Your heart fluttered as you felt him pull your hair away from your face, his fingertips touched your face, and you almost melted.

But, this was wrong. Growing feelings for him was wrong. He was a good friend, who was willing to help you out of your disaster of a marriage without taking charge. It would feel like you were taking advantage of him, pulling him into your already fucked up life.

And he probably definitely had a girlfriend. Given how handsome and kind he was, there was no way he wasn't taken.

You cursed yourself for even thinking about him that way. It was wrong, selfish and doomed to end badly. It always does when you love someone. They leave, or end up hurting you. 

However, Harry felt differently.

This was the most close to him you had gotten, and he was on cloud nine. His hand was on your shoulder, soothing you while your head lay on his chest.

He was happy that he was the one you turned to for comfort. He felt comfort knowing that he was the person you went to when you felt unsafe. His heart felt happy, even though it shouldn't, given the situation you were in. 

It’s always the damned situation, isn’t it?

Right person, wrong time.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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hdtu tags: @hannah9921

[doitforbangchan]

1. After elaborating on binnie’s rut I’m gonna need more of that please ma’am, I need to be fed and trust me I am starved.

2. When does Chan start allowing others to help with baby’s heats? Was the first just a possessive thing? Does he not share her at all during them bc he’s tech her mate? Or is it kinda a cycle through them all but always finishing w an alpha since without a knot she’d 100% insatiable?

- 🌙

ok ok here’s some scraps lol

binnie has never felt so submissive and docile in his life and he’ll be the first to say it is humbling.

on the day of his rut his brain is scattered and he barely recognizes himself. he’d be hot and sweaty and his entire body is on fire. though he doesn’t feel that inherent rage and frustration he usually feels when he’s in rut. this time all he feels is need. and all he can smell is baby.

at first he would probably lock himself up and wait for the inevitable destruction but it doesn’t come. for hours he waits and still nothing. eventually he decides waiting it out isn’t an option anymore he needs baby now.

he’d use his heightened sense of smell to seek her out until he’s found her probably doing some type of cleaning or maybe even nesting.

if he finds her in the nest he would lean on the door jam and cry for her, and ofc she would immediately be like omg what’s wrong and he would be in tears trying to explain. omega isn’t dumb and would realize exactly what he needs so she climbs out of her nest (making sure to bring her most scented blanket that smells like her) and gently leading him back to his room. she lays him in bed with her blanket then scurries out to tell channie what’s going on.

after grabbing a bottle of water for binnie she goes back to him and takes such good care of him. he’s already naked by the time she gets back and his hand is working his cock while he’s biting her blanket, his eyes glassy and already looking gone.

his hand that isn’t stroking himself reaches out for her -now whimpering louder but still biting the blanket- and she would coo at him and join him on his bed.

now baby is not a dom by any means but one of the jobs of an omega is to adapt to an alphas needs so she does just that and shimmies out of her bottoms and climbs on top of him. by this point she would tug his hand off his length and use her own hand instead. he’d mumble something about it hurting so bad and he needs to knot her. he can’t go another second without knotting her and getting her pregnant.

“you’d like that right? please please let me show you omega i need you so bad. need to give you my babies you would look so good swollen with my baby. omega please”

and she’s not one to deny her alpha…….

OK OK

as for omegas heats going forward chan would definitely need some help taming baby. she is insatiable when she’s in heat he barely survived last time his dick was so raw by the end he feared it was gonna fall off 🥲

he would want to be the first one to help her through it, he knew her feral brain would need a strong alpha to start her off and give her a knot. after she gets one or two knots outta him he’d take turns with the other alphas. if it goes on for more than 2 or 3 days i think they’d be more inclined to give the betas a shift in between so they can rest.

all of the betas are like “it can’t be that draining your all just dramatic” and end up eating those words when baby absolutely rocks their world with her demanding heat. they all leave their turns covered in marks and heavy labored breathing- eyes glazed over and body absolutely exhausted.

it’s not her fault tho, she’s just a girl 🤷🏻‍♀️

[littledollll]

Hii, so I am going through some shit and I just really, really want Brienne comforting me, so can I request Brienne and squire reader who sh, and has scars all over their body, and one day after a long journey they go to a bath house and she sees the scars and takes a while for her to realize what they're from? I totally understand if that makes you uncomfortable, but I am really struggling with mine lately so..yeah

Distracted by beauty

Brienne of Tarth x reader

A/n: hi darling, I hope you feel much better soon. I’m sorry this took so long, I’ve mentioned before my little issues with writing but I really wanted to get to this better late than never.

Warnings: mention sh scars, insecurities, slight non-sexual nudity, wandering eyes.

♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖♖

“Just a quick bath, alright? We head out again early in the morning so the sooner you get to sleep, the better.” Brienne’s voice cut off your conversation as you reached the bathhouse with the quick demand. You’ve been on the road for days, and finally it was the last night you had to spend out of your home. You noticed early on that Brienne wasn’t one to converse much, but after a while you broke through her walls and got her to engage.

With only a nod to her statement you placed your things on one of the benches, on the farther side of the bathhouse. Brienne thought nothing of it, wanting a little privacy is expected but once she caught sight of you beginning to undress her mind went blank.

She didn’t mean to stare. Her cheeks flushed red and her heart beat at about a thousand miles per second. It took her at least a full minute for her to actually register she was staring. She saw every detail of your delicate skin, many curious scars scattered through different places, some places more scarred than others. but she said nothing of it.

She snapped her eyes away to focus on undressing herself for now, hoping you didn’t notice her staring and were uncomfortable. She could faintly hear the sound of you getting into the water.

It was obvious you were looking at her too. She could feel you staring, which only alerted her more that you probably noticed her.

The image of you replayed in her mind, you were breathtakingly beautiful, and the more she thought about it it slowly registered in her mind just what those scars might be, and again, she said nothing of it.

It was uncomfortably quiet between you two. And she felt the need to somehow excuse or explain her staring. Not wanting you to think the wrong thing, that she was judging or was staring out of distaste, she knew that feeling very well.

“I’m sorry.. for staring, I mean. You’re beautiful, and I found myself staring before I even noticed.” Her voice was quiet, her cheeks still lightly flushed. She was quick to get into the water as well, unsure if she should look at you or not right now.

“You don’t have to say that, Brienne.” You said with a sigh, carrying that same air of quietness that she had.

“I don’t, but I mean it. I- think you’re beautiful. I did not mean to stare or make you uncomfortable.” It was a statement she knew to be true. But you’d be one to disagree regardless of what the knight said.

“Right, so you staring has nothing to do with-“ she didn’t even let you finish. She shook her head as she interrupted you. “Absolutely nothing.” She sounded so sincere. And she continued, trying to prove her point further. “I refuse to let you believe that’s the only thing about you that stands out or you’re any less worthy or beautiful because of it, because what took my breath away was you.”

You felt like you could cry at that point, and you really didn’t stop to think further about the fact she had just openly admitted to being attracted to you in such a way. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that… Thank you, Brienne.”

She gave you a sincere smile, one you thought was beautiful, and a nod. “I have many scars of my own. They might be from different types of battles, but battles regardless. They don’t take away your beauty, they don’t stop me for admiring everything that you are. And you’re as much as a fighter as I am. Never forget that.”

[runawaymarbles]

some things that may or may not happen after the ending of Swan Lake

"Odette, now resigned to her existence, bids a sad, lingering farewell to Siegfried. The prince knows that she is gone forever. In utter grief, he is left alone." - Swan Lake (Kent Stowell version) summary

I. Siegfried is left alone. He will always be alone. He dies an old man at the edge of a lake.

II. Siegfried is alone. He will always be alone. He dies a young man in the middle of a lake.

III. Siegfried is alone. He is alone until the night after the party, when a swan appears at his bedroom window. He has never seen the glow of moonlight on her wings before, and the sight makes him cry.

When he opens the shutters, she settles next to him on his featherbed. She can’t cry anymore, but she bops him on the head a few times.

IV. Siegfried is alone, and he cries on the Jester’s lap. The Jester doesn’t think he’s paid enough for this. He certainly doesn’t have a joke prepared for when the crown prince accidentally declares his love to the wrong bird.

The Queen wonders if she can adopt the Jester and marry him off.

V. Siegfried is alone, officially, but he’s never truly alone because there is a swan that follows him everywhere. Anyone who wants to get any business done learns that they are not allowed to question this.

The swan is kind of an asshole, though: she’s especially prone to biting women who look at the prince just a little too long.

VI. Siegfried is alone, entirely, and intends to always be alone. “I will never love again,” he says, to anyone who will listen.

“That will certainly make a much better ballad,” his mother says, “the poets will be thrilled. But we’ve still got a kingdom to run and a dynasty to continue.”

VII. Siegfried is officially not alone, but he’s not happy about it. He has a pet swan who is also not happy about it. And a new wife, who is the least happy of them all.

“The swan stays in the marital chamber during sex,” the prince says.

His wife would find a way to kill him if she wasn’t afraid of said swan pecking her eyes out.

VIII. Siegfried is only sort of alone, and he hasn’t given up: he asks the Jester to promise to love his swan more than any other woman, on the grounds that the Jester has no sisters and has never loved a woman, nor does he intend to. “I don’t think he specified romantic love,” Siegfried says.

The Jester promises to be the bird’s bestie for life, and suddenly the swan is a woman, and there are screams from outside because the swans that have taken up residence along the roof are women now, too.

IX. Siegfried isn’t quite alone, but he isn’t happy, because the Jester promises, and nothing happens. The prince and the swan go off to cry again. The Jester asks the Queen for a raise.

X. Siegfried is alone. He changes his crest to one that shows a swan, wings spread above a blue square lake. He rules his kingdom, as fairly as one can ever be while wielding absolute authority, but spends the rest of his life watching the sky. He dies alone on a bed made of straw.

XI. Siegfried is alone. One day, a friend points out some swans to him, but he refuses to look at them.

“The form of a swan is a prison and a curse,” he says. “What if that’s not what they’re supposed to be?”

He bans all depictions of swans from the kingdom.

XII. Siegfried is alone, or he isn’t. Either way, he becomes a vegetarian.

XIII. Siegfried is alone. But he has loved, now, and he knows how to do it again. One day, he manages to move on.

He teaches his daughter everything he has been able to learn about preventing curses.

XIV. Siegfried is alone. He fucks the Jester.

XV. Siegfried is alone. A few years later, he learns that a minor noble some forty miles away has a beautiful new wife and two dozen new maidservants. Nobody is sure where they all came from.

But Siegfried knows, and he cries, and he is happy for her.

XVI. Siegfried isn’t alone. He gifts the swan that follows him around the fluffiest pillows. Demand she be paid the choicest foods. The jokes and rumors abound, but he ignores them.

Sometimes servants will hear him talking to the swan as though she’s a person. Sometimes they swear there’s a pattern to her honks, like she’s answering him.

XVII. Siegfried is alone, although he treats his pet swan like a queen. Sometimes, the servants will hear him talking to her.

“Can you still understand me?” he asks. “Odette. Please. Tap my hand if you understand me.”

The swan doesn’t move, until the prince offers more shrimp.

XVIII. Siegfried isn’t alone, until he is. Because swans mate for life, but that life is only a decade or so. When she dies, he calls for a week of mourning throughout the kingdom.

And when she dies, there’s a part of him—a part that he hates—that feels free.

XIX. Siegfried isn’t alone. Because Von Rothbart is defeated, somewhere. Maybe he cursed the wrong princess. Maybe he fell and broke his hip. All anyone know for sure is that one morning, there is a woman lying on the cushions reserved for the swan.

Salad and shellfish go out of favor, as the new queen refuses to eat them.

XX. Siegfried is alone, until a woman shows up at the castle. She’s wearing a white dress splattered with blood, and carrying what appears to be the severed wing of a giant owl. The prince mounts it on the wall above their thrones.

XXI. They live happily ever after.

XXII. Or, they don’t.

[azurlily]

Day 7 of 31 of the yandere month May challenge. These two yanderes work together well, so they're pretty scary.

Also a reminder to everyone this is the last month you can request a specific type of reader for free. After this month it becomes commission work. Ask any questions in either DM or on my asks/requests.

Your boss has been giving you a hard time. Vi and Caitlyn hear about and are not happy, they make the night all about you.(they also deal with your boss)

Yandere!Vi and Yandere!Caitlyn Kiramman SMUT

"I dont fucking care! If it's not done by Friday, you're off the team! Got it!?"

You nodded your head, got you hate this man. He's the embodiment of everything you hate. He stands there and glares at you before turning away in anger, you hear him mumble about 'idiot' while he walks away.

Slowly you turn around, turning your head up to stop the warm water dripping down your face. You walk out, it was the end of the day and Friday is only 2 days from now. You can work on the project at home, you hope your lovers would let you pay attention. They like to distract you from work.

Once your home you realise you see two coats, two pairs of shoes, and most importantly two women in the kitchen. Upon hearing the door close both women look up, a set of grey and a set of blue eyes look at you. The hold nothing but adoration, love, happiness, and kindness. Both of your girlfriends love you so much.

So it brought them both pain when you break down crying. Tears spill down you face, warm tears, refusing to stop. Vi is the first to run to you, she picks you up and holds you. She brings you into the kitchen, her face went from one of love to one of pure disgust.

Vi always has some sort of snark, smile, or relatively happy look on her face. Of course that's only for you and Caitlyn. Now, oh right now, she's absolutely pissed, and not afraid to show it.

"Honey? What's wrong, are you okay?"

You didn't say a word, it took you a good second to finally regain the ability to properly think. You push yourself off of Vi, Vi herself had switched back to a smile. She doesn't want to frighten you, poor you.

The three of you sit down and start talking. You explain what's been going on, specifically with your boss. You know that Caitlyn has more than enough money to support you and Vi, and she's never abuse that. You just wanted to be able to do things, and having a job was the best way. Your job wasn't always this demanding, it's your boss that's the problem.

While you were talking you didn't notice the slow changes in both Vi and Caitlyn's faces. They couldn't look at you properly, not right now at least. Both girls had one goal currently, and that was to kill you boss. How dare he yell at you!? Does he not know who you are, who your lovers are? They could ruin him with a snap of their fingers.

"G-girls. I'm going to go call someone real quick."

Vi didn't say anything else and stood up. She walked into the bedroom and called Jinx. The two have been having a good relationship so far. Their bond growing stronger, and therapy is helping too. While you sat on the couch and let Caitlyn coddle you, Vi was calling her sister for a favor.

"Hey, hey yeah. Yeah I need a favor, someone hasn't been all to kind to [name] I was wondering if you could deal with him. No- no I don't care what happens to him. Kill him if you want, just make him understand not to hurt her. Yeah, yeah I'll give you his info in a second."

Caitlyn had so many ideas stewing in her mind, how dare he. How dare your moronic, disgusting, disrespectful boss, EVER yell at you. Men like him need to be put down, maybe cut their balls off, like you would a dog or a cat. Teach him a lesson, he obviously doesn't see a goddess when it's in front of him.

Vi walks in with a smile, she had a good- great idea. You poor thing, you've been hurt so badly by your boss. You need all the love and care both of your very willing girlfriends can provide.

Vi sneaks over to Caitlyn with a smirk, whispering her plan into her ear. An equally devious smirk appears on Caitlyns face. Oh this, this is going to be fun, very fun. Caitlyn smiles sweetly at you, she gives you the smile that tells you many things. That she loves you, that she adores you, that she'd kill for you, that she want to fuck you so hard it hurts.

You assumed the latter was her choice.

"Sweetie, why don't you go undress in the bedroom, hm? Vi and I will be there soon, we're just going to grab a few toys."

Caitlyn stands up and give you a small peck on the lips before leaving with Vi. To large smirks on their face as they walk away. Their entire plan is to fuck you so raw you can't go to work, then when you do, your boss(if he's even alive) will have a whole new personality.

You walk to the bedroom, your face burning. Other parts of your body started to burn too, burn with need, with want. You didn't realise how pent up you were until now, god this was frustrating for you. You know your lovers, they love to tease.

After about ten minutes Caitlyn and Vi walk in. Vi has her boxers on, she also has a belt with a harness attached to it. The entire thing makes it look like thin, black(stylish) suspenders. Caitlyn though, oh she's wearing baby blue lingere. It looks so soft and pretty, you want to tear it off her, so very badly.

"You look so cute princess! I'm glad you were smart enough to only wear a bra and panties, if you wore anything else, well I would more than likely tear it!"

Vi always sounds so enthusiastic right before sex, you know it's her way of showing her interest. It's just scary sometimes, I mean the look on her face and the way she's talking are two very, very different things. She sounds happy, sweet, and kind, she looks like she wants to fuck you in front of hundreds of people and let them call you dirty things for her amusement.

"Mhm. Indeed, our beautiful little wife has learned, finally. I'm glad I dont need to worry about Vi destroying all your clothes anymore. Now, how about you lay back for us."

It wasn't a request, no instead it was a command. Caitlyn runs a tight ship, and you've learned bratting off only fucks you over further into the future. Not that it matters, you find it fun. You tilt your head and ask her to make you. A smile- dark, a dark smile finds it's way to her face. Caitlyn walks to you, she gently grabs a handful of your hair and pulls. A warning, she's warning you.

You know, you know all about her warnings. First a hair pull, then she'll bite your neck softly, lastly she grab you by the throat. Not roughly, but not soft either. You look up at her with faux innocence, you tilt you head in an attempt to feign innocence. You hear a deep growl from behind you, Vi. She's getting impatient.

Vi is the easier one to please out of the two, she just wants to make you scream. That's isn't hard to do, you just have to hit the right spots.

"I advise you to listen to Caitlyn, just because this night is about you doesn't mean we wont remind you how to listen. Dont test."

You decide it's best to save the brat for another day, you know their doing this to make you feel good. You told them everything, you're not surprised they had this cooked up. You nod slowly, you watch Caitlyn pull back, only for her to push you onto the bed. You lay back, spreading your legs and moving your arms above your head.

You know how they like it. You watch Caitlyn move and sit in a chair, it has gold trimmings and is a satin red. Vi smirks, this is how it goes. From now on, the words 'Vi' and 'Caitlyn' don't exist. It's daddy, and mistress. Honorifics, the things you call them by as a reminder of how they own you.

You watch Vi pull something from a box she had with her. A bright red, 8 inch long strap on. She looks between you and the strap, she sees the reaction on your face. Nothing but pure horny bliss, that's what she likes to see. If she saw that you were scared, she would have used a smaller one. One that would better fit you and your interests.

Vi attaches the strap to her, that's what the harness is for after all. She takes a few steps to you, she puts gets on the bed, her hips cornering you. You lay spread out, and she lays on top of you, look down. She takes your hands and cuffs them together, she. The harness has a belt attached to it, the cuffs were attached to the belt. Vi grins, she loves seeing you helpless, seeing that you need her.

You look over to Caitlyn, she's staring you both intently. She wants to see who will react first, if you say something, or will you meekly open your legs and let Vi have her fun. Caitlyn shakes with anticipation, making herself wetter than before. At some point Vi cant take it anymore, she grabs one of your legs and puts it over her shoulder. She dips the straps tip into you, nothing more, just the tip. She wants to see you shake, shake in pleasure, in pain, she wants to see all of it.

You jump and shake at the sudden intrusion, you body feels amazing and Vi just looks at you. She watches you twitch and shake as she slowly slips in and out ofr your pussy. She wants to see every reaction, every movement. Vi can't get enough of seeing you like this, she needs it, she becomes feral thinking about all the things she's going to do to you. Her pace quickened, hips starting to jam closer and closer to your. She needs this, badly.

Caitlyn watches you two with intense excitement. She loves seeing you like this, and it wasn't like she isn't getting any please out of this two. She had put a bullet vibrator in Vi, and she had a vibrator on herself too. She has the controls to Vis and hers, she turns Vis up by 1 and watches her shake. Caitlyn can see just how much shes getting off on this, and it makes her shiver thinking about it.

"Vi honey, if you want to cum at any point tonight, you're going to have to make our darling scream. I want to hear it loud and clear. Got that?"

"Mm, y-yes ma'am. Make her scream so I can c-cum."

Vi is absolutely losing it right not, her hips keep slamming into yours. No matter how many times you shake and spasm, your entire body is under her control. Vi on the other hand is under Caitlyns control, she knows Vi is chasing her oragsm, and hell get it. As long as Caitlyn gets to hear you scream. Vis thrusts get more and more manic, she's shaking, helping you into your orgasm, while chasing her own. God she needs it, so badly.

Your breath starts to shake more, you and Vi had changed positions a while ago, you are on your back and Vi has you holding onto her for dear life. You start scratching down Vis back, be it the pain of pleasure, you can take if anymore. You start crying and mumbling incoherently, you don't know what you're saying, and neither do Vi or Caitlyn. All that matter is you being absolutely destroyed, and you look oh so close.

"Vi, baby, I want you both to cum with me. Hold on just a bit longer babe, and Vi, I'll turn the vibe up."

You didn't know if you could hold on, it just felt so, so good. How the hell are you going to hold back like this!? At this rate you'll start breaking rules, one of those being don't cum unless given permission. You start hitting Vis back, hoping she slows down. You need her to or you wont last any longer, although you know Vi isn't going to listen. Even if you could talk properly, which you cannot.

"Fuck- cum! Both you of y-you, fuck!"

Permission, that's what you needed, and finally you were given it. Your body convulses against Vis, who does the exact same. You to shake and rock against eachother. Slowly you both come down from your highs. Caitlyn turns the bullet Vibrator off and turns hers off too. Vi slowly pulls out of you, she sees your freshly fucked face and almost laughs. You look so cute, all dumb like this.

"You both did so well for me, but now. Vi honey, please move. It's my turn to torture [name] body, and I intend to work thoroughly.

You look at her in your blissed out state, you should have known. Both if them want your body, they just like to take it in different ways.

[miss-nandini]

Hiii, could you do a Riddle x reader angst where they are secretly dating, but the reader gets tired of being a secret and insists on meeting his mom. But when they do, she (obviously) doesn't approve their relationship and demands that Riddle breaks up with us. And for our surprise, he actually does because he's scared and still is chasing after his mom's approval? You can decide if it has a happy ending or not!!

Sorry if this is too long, I don't usually send requests💕

Hey there! I hope you are doing well. I really loved your idea 💜💜💜. It was a bit rushed, sorry!

Don't Want a Mama's Boy

You don't know when or how you fell in love with Riddle Rosehearts out of all people. It started after his overblot incident. At first, it was fixing your tie. Then he started inviting you to the unbirthday parties, sometimes he would ask you to go on a walk with him around the rose maze in Heartslabyul. Whenever you needed tutoring, he always helped you out. Not to mention he acted so softly around you. You don't know when his eyes started looking at you so fondly, you don't know when subtle touches turned more frequent, you have absolutely no idea about when his lips crashed against yours. Before you got to know anything, both of you were already head over heels for each other.

He decided to keep your relationship a secret. Well, at first it all seemed good. But, as time went on, you grew tired of hiding. You didn't understand what was there to hide. You loved him and he loved you, right?

The first one who noticed was Leona—well, of course he found out. This lion somehow figures out every single damn thing. Slowly, your other friends kind of found out as well. That's when you decided to come out. Because, well if people already figured out your relationship, that means you two really love each other, right?

Oh honey, just how wrong you were.

You met his mother and of course that witch ruined it all. What you didn't expect was, Riddle actually breaking up with you. Wow, really? It broke your heart. You were the one who was trying to heal him slowly, for heaven's sake!! After everything, you couldn't understand why Riddle is still seeking her approval.

"Herbivore, are you really going to be like this the whole day?"

Leona lazily leaned against you.

To be honest, no, you didn't want cry over the guy who wronged you. But, your tears just wouldn't stop.

"I-I just don't understand...? I thought our love is genuine and he-he just—

You couldn't finish your sentence. Leona sighed and snuggled closer to you, hoping that his warmth will bring you some kind of comfort. If Riddle couldn't do his job as a boyfriend then that's his fault. Leona wasn't blind or stupid. He knew how much you loved the red-headed boy.

Meanwhile, Riddle was doing no better. He absolutely regretted breaking up with you. Seriously, how did his mother even manage to convince him to do that? All he wanted to do was take you back in his arms.

So, that's why, that night he sneaked out of his dorm to apologize. He was willing to break every single damn rule this time, if it meant you will take him back. With that thought in mind, he knocked on your door. Ramshackle was as quiet as ever.

Well, you didn't expect him, that much was sure. You didn't want to see him either, that was also quiet clear from the look you were giving him.

"The heck do you want, Rosehearts?"

"My rose—

"I'm not your rose or anything anymore, so get to the point."

"(Y/N)... I-I'm really sorry... What I did was extremely wrong. I-I don't know what came over me... I was so scared. She managed to manipulate me...again... I—

"Well, guess what Riddle? I'm so done. You did it once and you will do it again if you were given a second chance. I don't want a mama's boy like you."

"No...No...! (Y/N), please...please..forgive me for just this once... Without you, I can't be me. You complete me my rose... I cannot imagine a life without you anymore. You are my light, (Y/N)... Without you, I'm nothing but shattered pieces of glass..."

He tears flowed freely. You could see the sincerity and fear in his eyes. He was hurt and guilty. Even though he dumped you just like that... for some reason... you juat couldn't stand seeing him like this... so broken...so defeated...

"Oh Riddle..."

You slowly stepped closer and he immediately threw himself in your arms.

You were probably making a risky choice there. But...you couldn't help but give him another chance. You will probably need a long talk with him. But, for now, you were going to let him hold you and cry his heart out. After all, love can be so forgiving at times...

[riderofblackdragons]

A Part Of Me's Dead With You

Day 20: Emotional Angst | shoulder to cry on | giving permission to die | "it's not your fault"

Me? Posting a fic on the wrong day? It's more likely than you think :) Fr though, I'm a few hours late, but I've enjoyed making this. It originally was going to used a different prompt than "shoulder to cry on", but I ended up going with this one instead bc it fit better i felt.

If anyone has any specific AU they want more of, send me an ask or something and I'll see what I can do :)

Hope you enjoy!

It was one of the only true things that was known: some days were worse than others, but no days were truly Good. A good day meant that there was enough food to have two meals that day, instead of the typical one. A good day meant that the Senate wasn't as bad as usual, that there was nothing of any substance going on.

Days tended to blend together after the first few months anyways. When pain was a constant, the few days without it begun to feel like a blessing, even when they really weren't. Injuries healed wrong all the time, but they still had to walk and run and move on them regardless. It was their job.

Being spat on was, quite frankly, one of the better things to happen. All the commanders could remember when Stone had lost his voice - they'd been lucky he'd lived past the bleeding, let alone being able to talk afterwards. He was never the same, without his voice.

He'd been relegated to the prison shift, afterwards. No point in having him on Senate Duty, when the Senators demanded he talk to them, even if it was just to say "yes sir" or "yes ma'am". Despite the frequent riots, prison was best.

At least then, he wouldn't be decomissioned for it. Not like some of the unlucky Corries on Senate Duty, who'd misspoken, or stumbled over their words, and had a form with their number on it promptly sent to Fox to sign off on it. As if he'd had the option of refusing without his own decommissioning request passing his desk.

The worst thing to happen was when Thorn had died. Fox had failed in his mission the weeks prior. Despite having killed the 501st man, they all knew that Thorn's death was because Fox had failed. The Corries weren't hidden to the dark depths of the Chancellor, they knew that he would absolutely go that far.

It made sense, to them, that he'd be able to get the Sepertists to invade Scipio whilst Thorn was there. Amidala's death would've been a bonus, but the real target had to have been Fox's men.

Stone could remember the day they'd found out about Thorn's death. For that matter, so could Thire. Fox's official office may have been far from the rest of the Corries, but it was an open secret that he'd work with the other commanders in their office when one of them was off-planet.

His screams, when he'd discovered it, would haunt the other commanders. The way he'd begged his datapad, like it could bring back his dead troopers. Like it could bring back Thorn.

Neither of them had realised what was going on at the time, either. Fox had been hyperventilating too hard to explain what had made him break down, so they hadn't realised until Stone had found his own message, informing him of Thorn's death.

It was such a small message, too. Thorn had died and they got a note saying that all their men on that mission had perished. There was another message from Senator Amidala, expressing her sorrow about it, but that didn't mean anything to the commanders.

They'd squeezed into one bunk that night, all three of them. There wasn't much room, but there was enough to let them cry together, to let out their emotions before they had to face their men in the morning.

Before they had to break to them the news that Thorn was dead, alongside a dozen men.

Tag List: @captain-effy @what-the-fuckis-happening @robininthelabyrinth

If anyone wants to be added lmk!

[olderthannetfic]

Re, this anon: https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/719669829313953792

Yeah, well... that's the point of a bunch of internet activists: they throw the stone and hide the hand, screeching that, if you're doubting their innocence, you're an imperialist racist who should never be allowed on the internet.

Stitch, the person they're picking up a lot of their schlock from, is a master in this: they attack people, and the moment those who got attacked ask what they've done that's wrong or ask to have a one-on-one conversation with them, they shut everything down, screenshot whatever they received, block the person, and then go on Twitter whining about being a victim of racism because their words weren't listened to like the Gospel. Over and over again.

After the TOG racefaker scandal broke, I went through her blog and, just as I had expected, she too followed the same modus operandi: attack, screenshot, block, cry about being a victim of racism because people didn't let her insult them and demanded explanations about her ranting, wannabe-academic, posts.

They're not the only ones who do/did this, but these are the two examples of constant "harassment is good if I do it, but I'm the only victim and the others deserved it" cycle that come to my mind as of now.

When you're looking at End OTW Racism, you have to expect the same thing. They don't have answers, they don't want to have answers. This whole movement (horribly organized, horribly promoted, horribly everything) is nothing but a huge stroke of ego for its organizers.

You know how antis accuse others of being racist or pedophiles or whatever else because, that way, the accused cannot defend themselves? This is the same thing: if the OTW doesn't address their manifesto, then they're racist because they refuse to acknowledge it; if the OTW does address their manifesto, then they're admitting that they didn't care about racism until the moment they were called out on it and their concern regarding racism within the OTW is manufactured.

It's a win-win situation for them because, no matter how much you try, if you don't fully and absolutely agree with them, you can be branded as racist.

If you scroll through the End OTW Racism tag on Twitter, you'll see plenty of people (and especially the organizers), tweet stuff in the same vein as "I went to olderthannet's Tumblr and oof," not so subtly accusing all the people who raised valid concerns and asked valid questions of being racist.

I'm also not the first person who mentions this, but Stitch does seem to be heavily involved with the project, and even if they weren't, their words have been used to build the manifesto, and they amplified this crap through one of their Teen Vogue articles.

Now... not only Stitch is known for acting in bad faith, attacking creators of colors, branding them as Uncle Toms, purposefully making fun of them if they don't agree with them and sending their followers to attack and harass, but, just in April, they were being dragged because of another article they wrote, in which they compared writing fics about bad fictional characters to worshiping serial killers. Weeks before that, they were being dragged because their fanbase of antis discovered that their fics included incest, something that goes greatly against their preachings.

How big of a coincidence is it, that Stitch needed to have their image cleaned of all sins and suddenly a group of people drops a manifesto and hashtag about racism in fandom, founding a movement Stitch fully and absolutely agrees with and can rave about for days on end? A movement that offers very vague answers and plans, and those creators attack anyone who doesn't immediately agree with them, to the point that no questions can be ever asked about it?

Unless I'm shown actual evidence that Stitch isn't involved with this, nothing will convince me that End OTW Racism was launched for any reason that isn't to rehabilitate Stitch in the eyes of their chronically online audience.

--

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eight (Part 3)

“What was all that about?” He demands as he rounds on me, blocking the door like he’s afraid I’m going to try and go back in and finish her off. I can’t say anything to him, I can only start crying, floods of tears drenching my face and my hands shaking uncontrollably. He rakes a hand through his hair and starts pacing in a circle. “Were you seriously trying to fight my sister?”

“It was a mistake.” I blubber. “My rings got stuck in her hair”

“And all that I saw about you calling her a bitch and shoving her across the bar, that was a mistake too?”

“She came at me first!”

“Look, whatever is going on with you two, whatever the details of your falling out are, it’s nothing to do with me. I don’t honestly care about it, but you can’t be showing up here absolutely pissed drunk and trying to fight each other in front of a packed bar That’s the stupidest fucking thing ever.” He stares at me with wide, urgent eyes. “What is going on with you lately, Evie? What’s all this?”

“There’s nothing.”

“You’re drinking all the time.”

“I’m just having fun.”

“You aren’t. I’ve done… this.” He throws a hand up in my direction. “I’ve drunk myself into a state a few times and there isn’t anything fun about it. Not enough to keep going back and doing it over and over again.”

“I don’t do this every time.” I insist as the adrenaline starts to exit my body and my legs threaten to give out underneath me. I slide down the wall and sit on the cold, wet ground. “Just this time and last time.”

“Get up off the ground.” He says, and when I don’t he doesn’t push it. “It’s not just the drink, it’s all of it. You’re acting weird, you have weird friends…” 

“I don’t care if they’re weird. At least they’re not like the people here.”

“And what’s wrong with the people here?” 

“They’re shit.” 

He sighs, resigned. “Look, I know how Kelly is, like, I had to live with her for eighteen years so I get it, but she doesn’t have it easy. She’s having a hard time in college, and she’s not that good at making friends anymore…” 

“Maybe because when people try and be nice to her she calls them a bitch and tells them to fuck off and die.”

“She didn’t say that.”

“She did!” 

He crouches down next to me and lets his head hang low, shaking it from side to side. “Well I’m sorry if she did, then. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Maybe I did.” I say. “I think I was a bad friend.”

“I doubt that. Ye were just a bad pairing.”

“Maybe.” I sniffle “You really think?” 

“I dunno. You were always too soft for her. And you’d let her run around all over you at different times. It was like sometimes you’d be doing things it was obvious you didn’t want to be doing.”

“It was hard to say no to her.”

“Maybe you have a hard time with saying no in general, do you think?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Shane starts picking up pieces of gravel from the ground and tossing them across the alley and I shut my eyes for a minute or so and listen to the repeated clicking noises they make as they hit the pub wall opposite. 

I take a deep breath and sigh. “You went to Jen’s party.” A statement, not a question. 

“Yeah.”  

“You never said.”

“Didn’t think I needed to.”

“Was it any good?”

“Yeah it was alright.” A pause. “She’s a bit different.”

“Did you think so?”

“Yeah, I dunno why I’m saying that, she didn’t do anything out of the ordinary or anything, she just looked very different to me, was talking about some of the stuff she gets up to now it’s… I dunno. She’s different.” I know what he means. I felt the same way when I met her, and I recall her grey complexion and her shaky hands with ease, because to me they were the most surprising new things about her. She’d been the pink-cheeked picture of health before, and now… 

“And was he there?” 

Shane stops throwing the little stones momentarily and holds one between his thumb and forefinger in thoughtful examination. “Who’s that, now?”

“You know who I mean.” 

He hesitates. “He was.” 

“And how is he?”

“He’s the same.”

“The same?”

“Yeah, like, he’s the same as ever. I dunno what to say about him.”

“Did he talk about Berlin?”

“A bit, yeah.” 

“Did he ask about me?” 

Shane looks right at me and I feel exposed. Never would I have dared to ask a question like that while sober and he knows it. We never talk about this and I’m tired of it. I want to know the answer. I repeat my question: “Did he ask about me?” 

“Evie… you have to learn to let these things go.”

“It’s just a question.”

“You can’t be asking this of me. You have to stop with all this… hanging on to the past. Kelly, Jude, they’re gone. Just let them go.”

“I want closure.”

“Well you don’t always get to have it.”

“But he… they both hurt me. I just want to know why.”

“There doesn’t need to be a why, though. Sometimes shit just happens, sometimes it’s the wrong person, sometimes it’s the wrong time. You have to keep on moving forward with your life.”

“I’m afraid I’ll never stop thinking about him.” 

“You will.”

“Sometimes I think I can and then something else happens and I remember him all over again. It’s a horrible cycle. And look.” I reach for my phone and navigate to Instagram, scrolling through it until I find the picture I saw earlier. The drawings of me. “Have you seen these?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why would he draw this?” 

Shane stares at my phone for some moments and then shakes his head, leaning his head back against the wall while making a “psssh” sound with his mouth. “Who knows why. Maybe he likes drawing you.” He glances at the screen again. “You’re younger in them. Longer hair, like. I’d say he did them during the summer before he left.”

“Why would he spend so long on them? Put so much detail in?”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe because he was in love with you or something.”

“How could he have been?”

He looks at me with this desperately sad expression like he feels sincere pity for me at that moment. “God’s sake, Evie.” He says with exasperation. “What do you think about yourself at all? Do you just tell yourself rotten shite all day inside your head? Why wouldn’t he have been?”

I laugh with derision. “He didn’t act like he was.”

“Did he not?” 

I don’t answer him and his words hang in the air between us as old memories begin to drift out of hidden places in my mind and unfurl themselves, revealing things I forgot that I knew. Secret glances meant for nobody else, tiny, inconsequential touches that gave me the kind of explosive feelings that I’ve been uselessly searching for ever since. 

“Shane, I think I am very twisted up and fucked in the head, and I think there’s something wrong with me.” I state, panic creeping in. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s real and what I’ve made up and told myself is true.”

“You’re alright.” He says. 

“I think that’s why I can’t keep anyone consistently in my life.” I continue with rising madness. “And I lose everybody in the end.”

He wraps his arms around his knees and looks out over the deserted car park nearby. “That’s how it goes, like, it’s the way the world works.” He says. “Everything you lose, everybody you lose is just exchanged for something else. I don’t know if I believe in everything happening for a reason or whatever, but maybe losing Jude was the cost to keep your world spinning in the right direction.”

I wipe my nose and stare at him, surprised by the profoundness of his statement. “Do you think my world is spinning in the right direction now?”

He shrugs. “It’s turning the way it’s turning. Maybe you’re meant to learn something from this.” 

“Maybe.” I say, “God, Kelly was right about you. You really are secretly smart.”

“Secretly? I do science in UCD.”

“Whatever. Yes. Secretly.” I chance to lean my head on his arm in a gesture of fellowship. As I expect, he doesn’t attempt anything comforting, but he doesn’t shove me away in disgust either, so it’s a win in my eyes. 

Tonight he’ll sit here and let me hold onto the sleeve of his cotton shirt, and tomorrow we’ll go on and pretend this never happened. We will never admit this moment to ourselves or anyone else for as long as we live.

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