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notyetneedcoffee · 1 year ago

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Stretch

Kinktober - Size Kink NSFW - Adults Only

Summary - The Witcher is just so big.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” You smiled up at the Witcher. “Particularly tonight.”

“Hmm.” He rumbled, though you noted his golden eyes kept darting down to you.

Standing close to him and wearing stays that held your breasts high, gave him a particularly enticing view. You knew how to take advantage of your small stature when it came to men. This man, however, was always a challenge.

People milled around the hall dressed in their finest. A large fire blazed in the hearth and musicians played. No one danced. This gathering was not that kind of celebration.

Some people considered the Trades Celebration archaic. The villages in these mountains, being isolated and small, would gather once every ten years. Some of the men and women would bed others from other villages to diversify the bloodlines of each isolated area. As the main objective of the celebration was pregnancy, a famously sterile Witcher seemed decidedly out of place.

“I could say the same for you.” Geralt finally said. “I would not have expected you to be anxious to become a mother.”

“I’m not.” You leaned a little closer to him to speak conspiratorially. “But there are great business contacts to be made here.”

He nodded. You were a herbologist. He often sought you out for rare and valuable ingredients.

“What brought you here?”

“Bruxa.” Geralt frowned. “After I cleared them out, I was offered a place to stay for a time and asked to attend tonight by Marthox.”

You grinned, glancing at the rich village elder and his four daughters. “Do you think he’s ignorant to the fact that you are unable to pass on your magnificent genes?”

“Probably.” He took a long drink from his glass.

“Do you plan to deflower one – or all – of his willing daughters anyway?”

“No.” He leaned down to your ear. The top of your head only came to his shoulder. “I’m more interested in something a little more feisty.”

“Then why are we wasting time here?” You grinned.

Geralt just turned and marched out of the hall. You had to jog to keep up with him. As soon as you turned the corner into a dark hallway, the Witcher paused. He swept you up and tossed you over one shoulder.

You swallowed a squeak, grabbing the back of his jacket out of fear of the height. “Geralt!”

“You were moving too slow.” He chuckled.

His room boasted its own large fireplace, stone bathing tub, and soft bed. You bounced in the middle of the mattress when he tossed you down. Geralt grabbed your foot to unlace your shoes. Laying there, looking at your foot in his large hands, feeling his strong fingers rub into the arch of your foot, lit the fire in your belly.

Geralt placed a knee on the bed and leaned over you. His white hair fell forward and you could smell the mead upon his breath. “It’s good to see you, little one.”

You touched his face, running your fingers over his high cheek bones and strong jaw. When you skimmed the soft skin of his lips, he lowered his head and kissed you. Your tongue eagerly reached for his as the kiss grew rough.

Geralt broke away with a satisfied noise. He gathered your skirts in his hands, lifting them to your waist. Your legs instinctively fell open for him as his rough hands slid along your thighs. As his thick finger teased your opening, rubbed around your clitoris, awakening your arousal, you laid your head back and studied his looming form.

You adored the time spent with the Witcher in bed. You felt tiny, delicate, and feminine under his touch. He exuded power. His strength could take your breath away, but you never feared he would hurt you. His wide chest engulfed you. His thick thighs pushed your legs so far apart.

Geralt’s head lowered between your legs, tasting your sex, licking and sucking at your clit. Fire circled through your body. You needed more. Pulling at the laces of your bodice, you desperately fought to free yourself from your clothes. Geralt manhandled you around, tugging at skirts and throwing away underclothes. Once naked, he again buried his face in your cunt with a determined growl.

You pulled at his white hair, shaking as his grumble vibrated through your clitoris. Two thick fingers slipped through your wetness, spreading your slick, pumping against sensitive flesh, and stretching you. Deep moans poured from your mouth as your hips rocked into his face.

Geralt rose to his knees, rubbing at your clit and fingers pumping wetly in your cunt. Your back arched as the coiling tension threatened to snap. The corner of his lip curled up. His gravel deep voice poured over you like warm honey. “That’s it, little one. Come all over my hand and I’ll stretch this pretty little pussy over my cock.”

You shook, cunt clenching at his fingers, wetness flooding over his hands.

As you lay there feeling your thighs quiver, Geralt stripped off his clothes. He did so with efficiency and no attempt at seduction, still the flex of his muscles and sight of his hard flesh caused the fire to flared hotter.

Geralt crawl over the top of you, mouth covering your breast and sucking your nipple to a hard peak. His kisses trailed up your neck, teeth grazing your skin. Kissing you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue, he pushed your legs further apart with his knees.

You felt the wide head of his cock rub along your entrance. With immense control, he pushed in. The stretch bordered on pain, but under assault of his kiss, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex, your body rocked up against him to invite him deeper. Rocking slowly, each thrust pushing him further, filling you. Heat burned down your chest to settle between your legs.

He sat back on his heels, pulling your body along with him. You cried out at the change of angle, his cock hitting just the right spot. Your legs wrapped around his waist. Memorized you watched Geralt allow a drop of spittle to fall up on your clit. His thumb circled and stroked as he fucked into you harder.

You moaned, back arching and hands clutching at the sheets.

“Fuck,” He growled. “Fuck, yes.”

You shook in his grip.

“Mmm.” Geralt’s hips moved faster, harder. “Again. Fuck. Come again.”

You squeezed your own tits. Geralt moaned. Your thighs quivered. You panted, breath escaping with each thrust. “Oh, gods!”

His fingers dug into your hips. He lifted your pelvis to meet each powerful thrust. Fucking you hard. You felt like you were being blissfully split into two. He growled. “I said fucking come for me.”

“Yes!” You snapped, shaking hard, whiting out.

Faster, rougher, and soon Geralt roared his own release.

He flopped back on the bed, pulling you along with him. You lay spread across his chest, a sated and boneless mass. No part of you touched the bed. You floated on a warm island of Geralt muscle. You rubbed your nose into the hair on his chest, breathing in his scent.

“Hmmm.” He sighed, one big hand coming up to rest on your ass. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You mumbled with a smile. “But I can’t feel my feet.”

“I’ll carry you if I need to.” The smile could be heard in his voice. “Cause I’m not through with you yet, little one.”

Want more? Check out my Master List.

#Kinktober #Geralt of Rivia smut #Geralt x reader #Geralt fic #Geralt of Rivia fanfic

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borathae · 7 months ago

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"You both had a stressful day and relax with a warm bath. Soon the tension gets too much and you decide to do something about it."

Pairing: husband!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Smut

Warnings: switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, sharing of a bath, making out, lots of touches, nipple play for both, neck kisses, grinding, some dirty talk, praise, he keeps calling her beautiful :'), lotus position, cumming too soon (f. receiving), hair pulling (m. receiving), rimjob with him bend over the edge, handjob, he is just a devoted hubby who loves his wifey oh so much, she loves him just as much <3

Wordcount: 3.6k

a/n: boongles won the poll. you besties have spoken and i am here to deliver <3 i love this lil dude so much, you guys :(🤍 ps: i'm sorry for the delay, life got all too much and i didn't have the energy to finish it in time :(

Yoongi is relaxing in the bathtub when you disturb his precious peace.

“There you are.”

Yoongi peels one eye open, watching you undress without saying anything. You are talking as you get more and more naked, blind to his rather annoyed state.

“I literally had the weirdest day ever. First the bus driver refused my cash so I had to call a cab instead, then I went to work and nothing happened but then at lunch, I went to Nukim and my card declined. I had to run to the nearest ATM to get more money and broke my heel on the way back. So with one broken shoe and lots of embarrassment I had to continue working and now I’m cold because it’s really windy all of a sudden and I didn’t bring a coat. Oh wow, the water’s so nice. Mhm.”

And you are inside the bath, facing him.

He is still looking at you with only one eye, tapping his fingers on the edge of the tub. You finally let the situation sink in. He has a glass of whisky by his side and the candles burning. His favourite album to relax to is running in the background.

“Did you wanna be alone?”

“No, go ahead. I was just trying to catch a quiet hour”, he says sarcastically.

“I am so sorry. God, I didn’t think. I can leave again if you want me to.”

He dismisses you with a shake of his head, peeling himself off his comfortable position to kiss your cheek.

“Stay. It’s fine.”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to ruin your Me Time.”

“It’s fine. You’re already in the water now. I hope you don’t mind me being quiet though.”

“No, go ahead. Some quiet will do me well too.”

Yoongi relaxes again, picking up his glass of whiskey to take a sip. He enjoys it on his tongue, then swallows it with his eyes closing and his head falling back. He keeps both arms under water, relaxing his facial muscles.

You settle back as well, closing your eyes with a sigh. You feel comfortable in relaxing because you know that Yoongi was honest with you. He doesn’t mind that you are here because if he was, he would have told you. You had him telling you to leave him alone a few times in the past, so if he had minded he would have told you. He is honest like that, just as you are always honest with him. It’s what makes your marriage so nice and healthy.

You finish his relaxation album in silence and then Yoongi breaks it by moving around. You open your eyes. He is using his phone, bending over the edge of the bathtub this way. You try not, but still stare. He is sticking out his butt, giving view to his part most private. It looks so pretty and pink. You get glimpses of his balls as well. The warm water made them just as pink. You really want to run your tongue over him.

Yoongi settles back down after picking out the next album, meeting your eyes.

“Oop”, you let out, looking to the side quickly.

“Did you just ogle me?”

“No?” you lie with a nervous chuckle.

Yoongi cocks up his brow.

“Maybe”, you confess, lowering your head, “sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re so dirty sometimes”, he mumbles and relaxes again, closing his eyes.

Now that this conversation is over, you need a few moments to relax as well. You don’t have dirty thoughts per say, but you still don’t want to settle back anymore. The twenty minutes of silence you shared before were already enough to bring you down and now you are craving conversation. But you know better than to disturb him. So you are left gawking at him and wishing for time to pass quicker.

You stay like this for four songs and then Yoongi sits up to drink. He meets your eyes, covering his chest.

“Why are you staring so much?” he whines.

“Sorry, I don’t know. I guess I got bored.”

“And staring at me is fun?”

“Immensely actually. You’re really pretty.”

He scoffs and looks away, reaching for his whiskey. He settles back, drinking it with his eyes racing over your face. He swallows, sits up and gets close. Like this, your thighs are touching and he can run his hand down your waist.

“Your eyes are gonna get stuck if you stare that much”, he whispers with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“No, they won’t”, you chuckle, “you doofus.”

He chuckles lazily and sips his whiskey. You look at his lips as he does it. He swallows, licks his lips, enjoying the attention with a fluttering pulse.

“Do you want a sip?”

You nod your head.

Yoongi hands you his glass, staring at your lips as you drink from it. You swallow, following it up with a grimace. He laughs, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek.

“You’re cute.”

“It’s good, it’s just strong.”

“Mhm yeah definitely. I felt like it today. Work was stressful.”

“I already figured. Do you want to rant?”

“Nothing happened. It was just really stressful and left me with a headache.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. Do you want me to massage you?”

He dismisses you with a shake of his head, “it’s already gone. It was strong when I came home, but it’s gone now.”

“I’m glad”, you say and rub his arms.

Yoongi finishes his whiskey, putting his glass aside before returning to you. He places both hands on your waist, kneading it gently.

“Your day was weird, you said?”

“Yeah, really weird. So many annoying things happen.”

“Mhm, they sound annoying. Do you still have your shoes?”

“Yeah, they’re broken by the door. I thought maybe you could take a look at them.”

“I’ll take a look at them.”

“Thank you so much, honey.”

“Of course.”

“Did you have dinner already?”

“Not yet, I wasn’t hungry. You?”

“No, I thought maybe we could cook together. You know, with it being Friday and us having no work tomorrow.”

He smiles with his eyes, nodding his head, “I’d like that”, he says and looks at your lips. He rubs the side of your neck, gazing oh so longingly.

The attention makes your heart race. You touch his shoulders, waiting for him to make the next move.

“You’re so beautiful”, he speaks softly, caressing your cheek just once before returning to your neck.

“Oh wow.” Your heart flutters. “You’re so beautiful too, my honey.”

His eyes soften more.

“May I?” he asks.

“What do you want to do?”

“Kiss you.”

“Oh. Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Yoongi leans in, getting lost in the kiss with you. He tastes of whiskey at first, but soon you have it kissed away and only his taste remains. This is so nice to both of you. The water is still warm, the music is relaxing, the touches you share are placed so perfectly right. It couldn’t get any better than this.

He feels so good under your fingertips. His skin is so soft, his body so warm. You can’t get enough of exploring him, tingling like crazy because he can’t seem to get enough of you either.

Your bodies draw closer as the minutes pass. When you started out, your middles were far apart, by now they are melted together. His thighs are under yours, his hands are either kneading your waist or lingering under your breasts. Neither he nor you have acted on the sudden closeness, but you can’t deny that it is starting to enchant you just a little.

You hope that Yoongi feels the same, giving him a silent signal by brushing your fingers over his nipples. He purrs deeply, pulling your hips closer in a way that grinds your heat against him. His big hand cups your breast afterwards, finally kneading it the way you wanted him to. He took the hint, communicating his own feelings with just a touch.

You and he feel the same. No words are needed, just skilled touches and needy sounds. You keep your own fingers busy with his nipples, pinching and massaging them as you and he fall into a tongue kiss. His purrs become more and more. He is so sexy in the way he shows his enjoyment. You can’t get enough of all the deep, throaty sounds he makes when you are feeling him up just right.

You answer him with your own needy noises, driving him just a little wild with them. He loves your sounds. They’re better than any kind of music ever could be. He breaks the tongue kiss to kiss your neck instead. He craves more of your noises and neck kisses always do the trick. This evening is no different. With just the first devoted kiss to your skin, you sigh his name, giving him better access by rolling your head to the side. Yoongi lets his breath swirl over your skin as he kisses you, rolling his hips against you slowly as his hands feel up your torso and his lips place kisses all the way from your ear to your shoulder.

He changes sides when your breath begins hitching in your throat and your fingers keep sliding down his tummy only to stop when they remember that you don’t have permission to touch yet. He won’t give it to you yet, wanting to bask in you a little longer. Kisses to your neck, feeling your torso and grinding against your warmth is all that he needs, while you are meant to enjoy it because you are his goddess and he is there to shower you in bliss.

He is happy to share this bath with you. His initial distaste of having his silence disturbed ceased to exist the moment you and he shared quiet and he became utterly excited to have you with him. Yoongi really likes baths with you. They are both relaxing and sometimes lead to good, intimate sex. He can really calm down from a stressful day like this, finding great happiness in it because he can make you feel good as well.

He straightens up, breaking the string of saliva connecting him with your marked neck by licking his lips. He soothes the hickeys with rubs of his thumb, gazing at you.

“Feels good”, you get out breathily, barely keeping your eyes open.

“Feels good?” he makes sure.

You nod your head, whimpering.

His eyes soften, he cradles your cheek.

“You’re beautiful”, he whispers, making you shiver with just his words. So he does it again, he praises you, “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You melt into him, burying your hands in his hair to pull him into a kiss. Yoongi moans, giving you access to his mouth instantly. You know just to kiss him to scramble his mind and get him purring just for you. The heat between your legs increases, the speed of your grinds does as well. Soon it is almost unbearable to handle and the kiss breaks with needy mewls from both of you.

“I really need to-”

“Just do it, I want it”, Yoongi interrupts you, tugging at your hips.

This is all you needed. You climb atop his lap and sink him into you, tilting his head back with a tug to his hair so you could taste his initial moan. He always gets noisy when he sinks inside. Tonight’s no different. He has his eyes barely open, taking what you give him with parted lips. He bottoms out soon enough, whispering a quiet “fuck” as his hands dimple your buttocks.

“Mine”, you whisper, picking up a needy rhythm.

Yoongi rolls his eyes back and closes them completely, choking out a breathy “yours”.

“Say it again.”

“Yours…all yours…”

“Fuck Yoongi, I’m obsessed with you”, you moan and drop your forehead against his’, chasing the ecstasy of being with him in needy grinds. Like this, his cock is so deep and because you never bounce on him, he also never stops rubbing against your favourite spot. His tummy puts pressure on your clit, adding electric bliss to the connection. Fuck, he’s got you charged. Everything about this feels so fucking good.

Yoongi groans, dragging them out until he has to gasp for new air. The tug on his hair is addictive, tasting your shaky breaths on his lips is making him dizzy. He is yours. He really fucking is. No one has ever gotten and will ever get him as hard as you get him. He’s addicted with every second, looking forward to the next one the moment the last passed. He wishes for this to never stop. He loves to love you in such ways.

His hands are on your hips, helping you move as much as they are trying to keep you moving. He would pass out if you stopped right now. It feels so good that missing out on even one second would be torture. The bath warmed you up so much that your soft walls are burning in the best way possible. Not even the hottest bath water could warm him up as much as you can.

“Feels so good”, he chokes out.

“Yeah, feels so good”, you agree breathlessly.

He shivers, “oh god, I missed you”, he chokes out with his voice just slightly pitched.

“Yoongi”, you croak, suddenly losing every kind of composure as his sappy confession throws you over a surprise edge, “fuck, oh god.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, holding his breath.

“Are you?”

“Yes”, you scrunch your face, hiding it in his shoulder a second later, “you fucking sap, urgh.”

Yoongi chuckles, helping you ride it out with gentle guidance. He really didn’t expect you to climax so soon, but he doesn’t dislike it. It turns him on so good to know that he can make you lose control so soon.

“You’re the sap”, he teases, earning himself a nudge to his chest the moment your high died down.

“You’re awful, fuck”, you get out as you catch your breath.

“Why?” he laughs.

“Cause you made me lose control.”

“So?”

“Brat”, you say and sink into him, “fuck, that just fucked me. Wow.”

“Mhm, I could feel it”, he says, sliding his hands to your ass to squeeze it, “was it nice for you?”

“Yeah, so nice.”

“I’m glad to hear that, my honey. Uhm. Can I maybe have one too?”

“Mhm, you’re so sexy”, you purr, peeling yourself off of him despite your dizzy head, “I want you to bend over the edge. Okay?”

He gulps, nodding his head obediently.

“Good boy”, you praise, slipping off his cock. “Go on.”

Yoongi scrambles to his knees and bends over the edge, arching his back.

“You know why I want you like this, don’t you?” you ask him, rubbing his hips as you place yourself behind him. His butt looks so yummy. You can’t wait to dig in.

“Yeah”, he sighs, resting his head on the edge in preparation. He already has his eyes closed and you haven’t even started yet.

“And that’s okay with you?” you make sure just in case.

“Yeah, so okay.”

“You drive me insane, seriously.”

With his clear consent, you finally lean down, swirling your tongue down his spine until you have his hole under it. You swerve past it just to rile him up, kissing and licking the back of his thighs until your tongue naturally feels his balls under it.

“Mhm, my honey”, you purr, sucking on his tender skin while your hands massage his hips.

“Nice”, he sighs, feeling warm all over. He loves your mouth on him. He really does. You always tease him, saying that he likes it a little too much, but Yoongi won’t let it faze him. He does love it a little too much, but how couldn’t he? When you are so skilled in everything you do.

“Mhm, so nice. So fucking nice”, you whisper between your adoration. You nuzzle into him, giving his balls a little kiss before you finally incorporate your tongue as well. You want to trace every inch of them with the tip of your tongue. He deserves it for being the cutest.

Yoongi shivers, finding it just a little bit more difficult to breathe. He has really sensitive balls and your tongue tickles in the kind of way where he wants to tense up because otherwise it’s too difficult to handle.

“You’ve got the prettiest balls, my honey”, you lull, sighing happily as you guide your tongue up to his taint.

One flick. Two flicks. You move further up with the third flick, swirling your tongue around his hole without touching it.

Yoongi can’t help but squirm and keen a giggle.

“Heh”, you let out, smiling against him, “needy?”

“Needy, yeah.” He sticks his butt out more. “Please.”

“You’re such a delight, fuck”, you purr and finally give him what you denied him for way too long. You press your tongue to his hole, exploring it in circular motions.

Yoongi moans loudly and presses back onto you, feeling a whole body shiver course through him. The short moment where he was outside the water and you licked him everywhere but his hole, cooled him down so much that your tongue feels like addictive fire on his rim now that he finally has it.

“Good?”

“Good, good, yeah good. Ah-ahmm.”

You purr and hum deliciously, tracing his rim with just your tip. His noises encourage you so fucking much. He tastes a hundred times yummier when he’s that vocal.

“Good, so good. Ah, ah aah…”

This is better than you had imagined it to be. He is so goddamn yummy. Every inch of him and especially on his pretty rim. You break away to rile him up with your words. Make him needy again, take it away so he whines.

He whines. Of course he does.

“I've wanted to do this to you ever since I first watched you bend over.”

Yoongi mewls, sticking his butt closer to your face. If you don’t return soon, he will start cursing.

“You’ve got the yummiest butt, my honey”, you purr, burying yourself back in his peach. You moan throatily, flicking your tongue up and down his hole in sync with your hand slipping to his front. You pick up his cock, jerking it off quickly.

“Fuck, ah…fuck”, Yoongi moans, wheezing for air as you make his legs twitch and shake. He expected anything but this and it’s ruining him.

“Like it?” you ask, swirling your tongue quickly.

“Yeah, like it”, he mewls, fucking back onto your tongue as much as he fucks your fist. He won’t last long like this. It is already amazing enough to have you eat his ass, a handjob on top of that is way too fucking powerful for poor, little Yoongi.

“Like it too, you taste so good. Fuck, Yoongi.”

You put pressure on his rim. It gives up embarrassingly fast, allowing your tongue to wiggle inside the first inch. It’s not enough to graze his prostate, it’s not even enough to really fill him, but it still gives him a gentle stretch and Yoongi loves that. He keens your name, thanking you even when he is so utterly out of breath. His cock is twitching in your hand. Your touch is sending constant hot electricity down his legs.

Encouraged by his noises, you keep the rhythm going, feeling on ecstasy yourself. To think that there were times in your marriage where butts were a no-no-zone. That you and he really went years without exploring this area. Oh, you missed out on so much fun.

You increase the skill, wanting him to catch up on all the fun he missed out. You might have started off late, but you are hellbent on making up for it. He needs his ass ate as if it was your last fucking meal. You slurp, you growl, you suck and feast loudly. And he is shivering over and over again, hearing his pulse in his ears.

“Holy fuck, it feels so good. How are you doing that?” he moans, trembling when you purr into him and pick up speed.

You can do even better. This is what you are trying to tell him right now. You will outdo yourself even if it steals your air and makes your arm beg for a break. You will get him to a point of complete loss of control, where he can only shake and writhe and wail your name. You will and you are.

And Yoongi falls into his most natural state: moaning your name repeatedly until the only vowels his brain knows are yours.

It takes Yoongi seven more strokes and then he announces his orgasm with a pitched moan, followed with whole body shakes and graphic curses about how good it feels. You moan with him, helping him ride it out with skilled touches and your tongue pumping in and out of him. You keep it going until he begins fleeing, doing so with shaky gasps for air.

“No, no more. No more.”

“Mhhm, My yummy peach”, you lull, soothing him with kisses up his spine and your hands rubbing his tummy.

“You’re insane, seriously”, he pants, resting his forehead on the edge of the bathtub while his hands tangle over it. He is still twitching occasionally, recovering oh so very slowly.

You snicker, “yeah, most definitely and you like that I am.”

He scoffs, chuckling deeply, “fuck, I can’t even deny it.”

“Gosh Yoongi”, you back hug him, nuzzling your cheek against his upper back, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He straightens up and turns, hugging you against his chest. You melt with him, humming contently.

“What a way to de-stress”, he says, “wow, I’m done for.”

“Yeah, what a way”, you agree with a smile.

“Sooo, what’s for dinner?” he asks jokingly, making you laugh.

“I mean, I already started with dessert so whatever you want.”

He laughs.

“Don’t say that”, he whines.

“Why?”

“Cause, I’m shy”, he mumbles with an obvious pout.

“Gosh, you cutie you.”

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solxamber · 1 month ago

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Fairytales and Fever Dreams - Vil Schoenheit x reader

When you decide to beg a fairy for help at your lowest point, you didn't expect that he'd decide to help you— at the cost of you making skincare for him.

You’re a mage at the academy, and life has officially declared war on you. Seriously. You’re about this close to having a full-on breakdown, the kind where they find you cackling in the library while surrounded by half-finished spell scrolls. One more minor inconvenience and you swear, you’re going to walk out onto the quad, set fire to the herbology building, and just stand there, staring blankly as it burns, sipping tea.

And why? Because you have four—count them—four finals on the same day. You don’t know who pissed in the universe’s cereal, but apparently, you’re the one paying for it.

"Okay, it’s fine," you mutter to yourself while chewing on the end of a quill. "You just need one little miracle. Just a small one. Like, I don’t know, a meteor wiping out the school. Or the headmaster spontaneously combusting. Something normal like that."

But then, you remember the rumor—the kind of rumor people whisper about when they’re this close to a mental collapse. Oh yes, the whispered tale of the fairies in the forest at the edge of town. Supposedly, if you bring an offering to the fairies, they’ll grant you a wish. Any wish. No strings attached.

You snort. It’s probably a load of magical nonsense. But considering your current state of sleep deprivation (and let’s be honest, mild hysteria), you’re willing to give it a shot. Desperate times and all that.

So, you scrape together the fanciest honey and milk your student budget can manage, which is probably a 5/10 by fairy standards but hey, beggars can’t be choosers. You pack it up in a basket like some weird, broke Little Red Riding Hood and trudge out to the forest.

The second you arrive, you’re not even trying to be subtle or respectful about it. No, you go straight to begging.

“Please, fairies, PLEASE!” You fall to your knees dramatically, waving the basket around like you’re presenting some holy relic. “I’m begging you. I need help. I haven’t slept in three days, I’m running on a liter of coffee and sheer spite, and if I fail one more class, I’m gonna have to turn myself into a toad and live under a rock. Just—just one wish, that’s all I’m asking!”

It’s bad. Like, so bad, you’re half-expecting some animal to come along and put you out of your misery out of sheer secondhand embarrassment.

But then, there’s this rustling sound behind you, and when you look up, someone is standing there.

Correction: the prettiest person you’ve ever seen is standing there.

He’s tall, ethereal, and glowing—literally glowing, like he bathes in moonlight and stardust. His hair’s all silky and perfect, his skin looks like it’s never heard of acne, and the expression on his face tells you that he’s about two seconds away from calling security on you.

“Why, exactly,” he starts, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow that could cut glass, “are you kneeling in front of my forest and making this embarrassing display?”

You blink. Several things occur to you all at once:

1. Fairies are real. Huh. You thought you were just being insane.

2. Holy hell, he’s the most beautiful person (fairy?) you’ve ever seen.

3. Wait—his forest?

You quickly wipe the pathetic tears from your face and stumble to your feet. “A-are you… a fairy?”

“No, I’m a sentient dust bunny,” he deadpans. “Yes, of course, I’m a fairy. What are you even doing here?”

You hesitate. He’s giving off serious annoyed model on a runway vibes, and you’re not sure if he’s going to hex you out of his forest or just roll his eyes so hard that you get flung into another dimension.

“I, uh… finals,” you mumble, the tears starting to well up again. “Four finals. Same day. And I haven’t slept. I’m one failed exam away from permanently turning into a raccoon.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like your existence is just too much for him. “And you thought the best course of action was to come here and… grovel?”

You nod pathetically. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

For a moment, he looks like he’s about to just walk away, leaving you to your breakdown. But then his eyes narrow, and he points at your backpack. “What’s that?”

“Huh?” You look down and see the sunscreen bottle sticking out. “Oh, uh, that’s just something I made. I’ve been working on a skincare formula for sensitive skin.”

He steps closer, plucking it from your bag with the grace of someone used to handling priceless artifacts. “Skincare, you say?” He opens it, sniffing it cautiously before dabbing a bit onto the back of his hand. His eyes light up for a second, and you swear you hear an angelic choir in the background. “Hm. Not bad. A bit of a lavender undertone. Smooth texture. SPF 50?”

You nod. “Y-yeah.”

He looks back at you, and for the first time since he appeared, you see the barest hint of approval on his face. “It’s hard to find good skincare products these days, even among the fairies.”

You’re not sure how to respond. Is this your life now? Trading finals survival for skincare tips with a beautiful fairy?

“Well,” he says, still admiring the product, “I suppose I could grant you one wish. One. But only if you agree to make more of these skincare products for me.”

“Really?” You blink, not entirely believing your luck. “You’ll help me?”

He gives you a sidelong glance, a smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t do charity. But your skincare is adequate. And it’s not every day I meet someone this close to unraveling. It’s almost entertaining.”

You stare at him, mouth hanging open like a fish. “Deal. Deal. I’ll make you whatever skincare you want, just get me through these finals.”

He gives a nod, satisfied. “Then we have a deal.”

And just like that, you’ve somehow bartered your way out of academic doom with a fairy obsessed with sun protection. Let’s hope this arrangement works out better than the rest of your life so far.

Apparently, fairies like Vil don’t believe in things like cheating or, you know, the basic decency of using magic to fix your problems instantly. No, that would be too easy. And Vil—your very pretty, very exasperating new fairy overlord—has decided that the best way to help you pass your finals is to tutor you personally.

His price? One skincare product per lesson. And you, being surprisingly decent at making potions and cosmetics (alchemy major, what else), agreed because, at the time, you thought, How hard could it be?

Sweet summer child. You had no idea what you were getting into.

Because Vil? He’s not just strict. He’s villain origin story strict. His “tutoring” is so intense, so grueling, that you’re starting to wonder if he’s secretly training you for some kind of sadistic mage boot camp. At one point, you fail a poison-brewing technique, and he makes you redo it. Then again. And again. And again.

By the fifteenth attempt, you’re seriously contemplating bottling the poison and taking a little sip just to see what happens.

“Again,” Vil says, his voice icily calm, like he hasn’t just been watching you fail for an hour straight.

“I think I’m seeing stars,” you mutter, staring at the cauldron. “Should potions be giving me a near-death experience?”

“Focus,” he says, completely unfazed by your descent into madness. “If you can’t even get this basic potion right, I have serious concerns about your competency as a mage.”

You’re on the verge of a mental breakdown. One more failed attempt, and you’re going to throw yourself off the nearest cliff. Or better yet—turn yourself into a toad and hop into a pot of boiling water. Anything to escape the relentless perfectionism of Vil Schoenheit.

“Maybe I’ll just hex myself into a mushroom and live out the rest of my life in peace,” you grumble under your breath as you stir the potion yet again.

“ What was that?”

“Nothing!” You stir faster.

To your utter shock, the potion finally turns the right color. You’ve done it. You’ve successfully brewed the poison, and it only took, what, half your lifespan?

Vil inspects it with a critical eye, and after a long, painful pause, he says, “Acceptable.”

“Acceptable?!” You want to scream. This is the culmination of blood, sweat, tears, and the remnants of your sanity, and all he has to say is acceptable?

“Yes, acceptable,” Vil repeats, as if your suffering isn’t the most amusing thing he’s seen all week. “You’ll need to refine your technique, of course, but this will suffice for now.”

You groan, head in your hands. “I’m going to transmute myself into a sock and live in someone’s laundry basket.”

But here’s the kicker: despite all of Vil’s strictness, he’s actually the nicest person (fairy?) you’ve ever met. You don’t know if that’s pathetic or straight-up depressing, but still, it’s true. He’s picky, yes, but he cares.

Apparently, Vil has a radar for poor life choices because one day, after what feels like your 57th failed poison attempt, he takes one look at the sad pile of instant noodles and energy drinks cluttering your desk and clicks his tongue in disapproval.

"You've been eating this?" He gestures at the disaster that is your meal—a cup of ramen sitting next to an open bag of questionable chips. His expression could curdle milk. "Do you actually value your internal organs, or are you trying to audition for the role of a trash panda?"

You blink, staring at your gourmet spread, and then back at him. "Excuse me, I’ll have you know, this is an advanced student diet. We run on caffeine and MSG."

He raises an eyebrow. "You’re not running on anything. You’re sputtering at best."

You open your mouth to argue, but then glance down at the pathetic excuse for food in front of you. Okay. Fine. Maybe you are sputtering. But what are you supposed to do, handcraft five-course meals between four finals and Vil’s poison-torture sessions?

Vil sighs dramatically, as if your very existence is a personal affront. "I’m not letting you continue this… self-destruction. You’re going to eat real food even if it kills you." He waves a hand, and suddenly a basket of the most beautiful, vibrant fruits and vegetables you've ever seen appears out of thin air. It's like the entire organic section of a high-end grocery store, but, you know, without the soul-crushing price tags.

"Where did you even get all this?" you ask, poking suspiciously at a particularly shiny apple. "Did you steal it from some enchanted Whole Foods?"

Vil glares at you like you’ve personally insulted his lineage. "I foraged it from my forest, you uncultured turnip."

You blink. "I’m a potato now, and a turnip? What’s next? Are we making a root vegetable salad?"

Vil rolls his eyes. "No, we’re making something that doesn’t resemble a cry for help. Get to it."

You sigh, but with Vil watching like a disapproving food critic, you figure you might as well try to impress him. You rummage through the basket, grab a few ingredients, and somehow manage to throw together a halfway decent stir-fry. You may be broke, but you can cook. It’s one of the few things that hasn't gone completely sideways in your life.

You serve it up with a flourish, smirking a little. "Voilà, a proper meal. Happy now?"

Vil inspects the plate with his usual level of judgment. You half-expect him to whip out a magnifying glass and start searching for flaws. Finally, he takes a bite, chews thoughtfully, and then gives you a rare, grudging nod of approval.

"Surprisingly competent for someone who survives on garbage," he says, in what you can only assume is Vil’s version of high praise.

"Wow, a compliment. I feel blessed," you deadpan, but you’re grinning. It’s not every day you get validation from a fairy with standards so high he probably judges oxygen.

Vil continues eating, and you join him, secretly proud of the fact that you managed to cook something that didn’t send him into a rant about toxins and poor life choices. For a moment, the two of you sit in companionable silence, just… eating. It’s weirdly nice.

After you both finish, Vil leans back, looking mildly satisfied. "If you continue to feed yourself like a proper human being," he says, "you might actually survive your finals."

"Yeah, well, if I keep spending time with you, I might also survive on sheer fear," you mutter.

He smiles, that rare, dazzling smile that makes your brain short-circuit for a moment. "Fear is a good motivator. But I expect more than just survival from you. I expect excellence."

You groan. "You know, for a fairy who showed up because of my embarrassing begging, you sure do expect a lot."

Vil just smirks. "You begged for help. I’m making sure you don’t embarrass yourself further by failing."

"Touché," you admit, stuffing another bite of food into your mouth to avoid further conversation.

You know, maybe being insulted by the prettiest fairy in existence while eating fresh, organic food isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to you.

But soon enough, it was back to work. After the food debacle, you whipped up a fresh batch of moisturizer for him. It’s something you’ve done a thousand times before, so you’re not expecting much.

Then Vil tries it. And his entire face lights up like you’ve just handed him the elixir of eternal youth.

“This is… impressive,” he says, his voice soft with genuine surprise. “It’s incredibly hydrating, and the texture is—” He pauses, then flashes you a smile that’s so dazzling, it practically sparkles. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

And then, out of nowhere, he leans over and kisses you on the cheek.

You freeze.

Your brain flatlines.

“Wha—Did you just—?”

Vil pulls back, completely unfazed by the fact that he just KISSED YOU. “If you continue to make products of this quality, I may have to keep you around longer.”

Your heart is still trying to restart, but you manage to nod. “Yeah… yeah, sure. Skincare. I can do that.”

You stare at him, wondering if this is real life or if you’ve just died and gone to some bizarre, fairy-run skincare hell. Because if that’s what’s happening, it’s starting to feel weirdly okay. Especially with the way he’s smiling at you.

And as you walk away, still reeling, you catch yourself thinking, Is dropping out of the academy to become Vil’s personal skincare maker really such a bad idea?

Honestly? With a smile like that? You’re starting to think it’s the best idea.

You’ve finally survived—ahem mastered—the hell that was poisons and advanced magical theory under Vil’s terrifyingly perfect supervision. You can now confidently brew lethal concoctions and analyze obscure spells without mentally cursing out every deity you can name. That’s progress. But of course, your next subject is Magical Beasts, and because life apparently hates you, it’s your worst one yet.

When you express this to Vil, expecting some helpful advice or perhaps even a break (hah, wishful thinking), he just waves a hand dismissively.

“I’ll ask a friend for help,” he says simply.

And that’s how you end up in the presence of the most extra fairy you’ve ever seen in your life. (Okay, you’ve met a grand total of two fairies, but still.)

The fairy in question bursts into your study room in a whirlwind of sparkles and sheer chaos, trailing a cloud of rose petals and the distinct scent of overly expensive perfume. He’s tall and elegant, his wings shimmering with iridescent hues, and before you can so much as blink, he’s speaking a mile a minute in a mix of French and pure gibberish.

“Mon cher! Quelle horreur! This room is an insult to aesthetics! Non, non, I simply cannot work in these conditions!” he cries dramatically, gesturing wildly at your meticulously organized notes.

You blink. “…What?”

But he’s already prancing around, rearranging your books and scattering glitter like some kind of deranged fairy godmother. Then, with zero transition, Rook starts rambling about magical beasts and their habitats in a way that has your head spinning. One minute he’s critiquing your choice of ink color (“Black? How dull!”), and the next he’s rattling off obscure beast facts with the enthusiasm of a caffeinated professor.

“The Hippogriff prefers moonlight baths! Ah, and the Knarl must be serenaded with music, or it will—how you say?—stab you!” he chirps, waving his delicate hands around in a way that seems more dangerous than helpful.

You’re sitting there, bewildered and slightly concerned for your sanity. “Wait, wait, wait, so—hold up, what do I do if a Knarl shows up in the daytime?”

Rook stares at you like you’ve just asked if water is wet. “Why, you run, of course!” Then he bursts into laughter, as if this is the funniest joke he’s ever heard.

By the end of the afternoon, you’ve lost count of the number of strange and sometimes horrifying tidbits he’s thrown at you. You’re pretty sure you’ve somehow become an expert in magical beast theory without consciously realizing it, and the sheer absurdity of the situation is enough to make you feel like your brain’s been hijacked.

“And that,” the fairy declares with a dramatic twirl, “is how you tame a Chimaera!”

You blink, staring at your notes, which are now a colorful mess of drawings, beast diagrams, and snippets of what you hope are actual instructions and not just fashion advice. “…I feel like I’ve learned a lot. But also absolutely nothing.”

“Perfect!” he crows. “You have done magnifique!”

Before you can process what the heck just happened, you decide to thank him the only way you know how: by giving him a small, beautifully-packaged vial of a custom serum. You’ve worked hard on this formula, combining the best of alchemy and skincare magic, and as soon as you hand it to him, his eyes go wide.

“Pour moi? C’est incroyable!” He clutches it dramatically to his chest, as if you’ve just gifted him a crown jewel. Then, without warning, he’s leaning in way too close, inspecting your face with an intensity that borders on obsessive. “Mon Dieu, you are a true artiste! So beautiful! So—”

“Excuse me,” a low, frosty voice cuts in.

You turn just in time to see Vil gliding over, expression smooth but eyes narrowed. With the grace of a professional diplomat (or maybe a particularly possessive cat), he slips between the two of you, placing a firm hand on the other fairy’s shoulder and gently guiding him away from your personal space.

“Thank you for your assistance, Rook,” Vil says with a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “We appreciate your expertise, but I believe that’s enough for today.”

Rook pouts but finally relents. He throws one last, longing glance at your serum and then at you, as if you’re both equally captivating. “Ah, c’est dommage… I shall return!” With that, he flits off, leaving you standing there, more confused than ever.

You turn to Vil, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… thanks?”

But Vil isn’t looking at you like a savior. No, he’s looking at you like you’ve just betrayed his entire bloodline.

“Excuse me,” you ask, blinking in confusion. “Did… did I do something wrong?”

“You,” Vil says slowly, his voice dangerously soft, “are my skincare human.”

You stare at him. “Um. What?”

“Mine.” Vil’s gaze flickers pointedly between you and the direction Rook flew off in, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I did not agree to share your talents with anyone else.”

Oh. Oh.

“Vil,” you say, a grin spreading across your face despite yourself. “Are you… jealous?”

The way his expression shifts from imperious to indignant would almost be funny if it weren’t so incredibly satisfying. “Jealous?” he scoffs, tossing his hair back with a haughty flick. “Don’t be absurd.”

You glance pointedly at the pink tips of his ears, which are steadily darkening into a bright red.

“Riiight,” you say slowly. “Totally not jealous at all. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m not,” he insists, crossing his arms, but his voice is just a fraction too defensive.

“Sure, sure,” you say with a mock-serious nod, fighting to keep a straight face. “It’s just that, you know, your ears are kind of giving you away.”

Vil sputters, shooting you a glare that could melt glass. “You—!”

“I’m just saying!” you chirp, smirking as you lean back. “I’m your skincare human. Got it, boss.”

He narrows his eyes, but the flush on his ears betrays him. “Remember it,” he huffs, turning sharply on his heel. “And don’t you dare give away my products to anyone else without consulting me first.”

You watch him stalk off, your grin widening. Maybe studying under Vil isn’t so bad after all.

Finally, your last subject: Offensive Magic. You’re almost at the finish line, but there’s one little problem. Apparently, dueling Vil or Rook is a fast track to the afterlife, and you aren’t too keen on becoming a cautionary tale.

That’s how you find yourself facing off against the youngest of the bunch—a fairy named Epel. He looks as thrilled to be there as you are, which is to say, not at all.

“Vil made me do this,” he mutters under his breath, glaring at nothing in particular.

You quickly realize that Epel’s main emotion is mild resentment, which honestly? Relatable.

The duel begins, and you’re expecting something simple—maybe some low-level spells, something to pad out your barely passing grades. But then Epel smirks, lifts his hand, and suddenly, half the field explodes in a brilliant display of magic that has you rethinking your life choices. Like, seriously reconsidering everything that led you to this exact moment.

You’re left standing there, jaw practically on the floor as bits of dirt rain down around you. “Holy shit,” you breathe. “You’re so cool.”

Epel freezes. His eyes dart to you, clearly shocked by the praise, and he suddenly looks a lot less surly. “...Really?”

“Yeah! That was amazing! I didn’t even know you could do that!”

He rubs the back of his neck, trying to hide a smile. “Well, I’ve been practicing…”

And just like that, you’re friends. Bonded over the mutual understanding that Offensive Magic is both terrifying and awesome when Epel’s involved.

Later that day, after a lesson where you actually didn’t almost explode yourself (personal growth!), you, Vil, and Epel are lounging in the forest. Rook’s off doing...whatever mysterious thing he does, leaving you all in relative peace. You’re casually chatting about the lessons when Epel, totally offhandedly, drops the biggest bomb of the century.

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty lucky the king of the fairies decided to help you out.”

You blink. “The what?”

Epel gives you a look like you’ve just asked if the moon was real. “The king of the fairies. You know, Vil.”

You almost choke. “Vil’s the king of the fairies?” Your voice cracks like you’ve hit puberty again.

Vil, lounging nearby, doesn’t even flinch. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“NO. YOU DIDN’T.”

“Well, now you know.”

You stare at him, mind reeling. “I’ve been—wait—what in the Sevens—you’re the king of the fairies? And you just—casually tutor people? Like it’s no big deal?!”

Vil sighs, flipping through a book as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “I thought it was obvious.”

“It was not obvious!” You’re flailing at this point, and Epel is snickering behind his hand, clearly enjoying your existential crisis.

Vil’s still cool as a cucumber, but when you stammer, “No wonder you’re the most beautiful fairy I’ve ever seen,” you catch the faintest flicker of a smirk on his face. He straightens up just a little bit, clearly preening at the compliment.

Rook suddenly appears out of nowhere, laughing like he’s just witnessed the funniest thing in his life. “Ah! How charming! Our humble little mage finally sees the light!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble, feeling your face heat up. “This is too much. My brain can’t handle this.”

The lesson ends, and you decide to thank Vil the only way you know how—by crafting him a night cream as a parting gift. You’ve gotten pretty good at making skincare, and you can tell he’s been eyeing this particular blend.

But then, in a rare moment of what can only be described as vulnerability, Vil hands you the jar and says, “Could you…apply it for me?”

You freeze. “Huh?”

He’s holding it out to you, but he’s not meeting your eyes, and—wait, are his hands shaking? You squint. Is he nervous?

Nah. Can’t be. Vil doesn’t do nervous.

“Sure,” you say, trying not to overthink it. You take the jar and start gently massaging the cream into his flawless skin. Vil closes his eyes, and for a moment, it’s almost…peaceful.

“You’re really good at this,” he murmurs.

You smile to yourself, oblivious to the emotional storm brewing inside him. “Thanks! I’ve been practicing.”

What you don’t realize is that this was your last lesson. Vil knows this. And for some reason, it’s hitting him hard. He’s spent all this time tutoring you, teaching you everything he knows, and now…you won’t need him anymore. You won’t come back. You’ll pass your exams and move on with your life, leaving him behind. And the thought of that—it stings more than he wants to admit.

Meanwhile, you’re completely unaware of his inner turmoil, humming to yourself as you finish applying the cream. “There you go. All set!”

You stretch, packing up your things, already mentally planning your next skincare batch for him. “Well, I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Wait.” Vil’s voice is soft, almost hesitant. You blink as he suddenly pulls you into a hug, catching you completely off guard.

“Uh…Vil?”

He’s holding you tightly, and when he speaks, his voice is a little sad. “Good luck.”

You frown, confused. “Why do you sound so sad? I'll pass my exams for sure after all your help.”

He doesn’t respond. You shrug and hug him back, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Alright, see you later, drama king.”

And with that, you stroll off, leaving Vil standing there, still holding on to the weight of his unspoken feelings.

Rook, watching from a distance, smiles knowingly. “Ah, how bittersweet…”

Epel just rolls his eyes. “Man, this is like watching a soap opera.”

You passed your exams. Scratch that—you topped them. You’re basically an academic legend now, leaving everyone wondering what kind of ancient god you made a pact with. The professors are whispering your name like you’re some ancient prodigy who’s been secretly acing exams since the dawn of time.

Naturally, you’ve decided to celebrate by making your magnum opus: the most legendary lip balm the world has ever seen. The kind of balm that could revive a dying star, or, more realistically, soothe the chapped lips of a certain fussy fairy.

With your glorious lip balm in hand, you set off to the forest to see Vil. The path is familiar, and yet, today something feels... off. The trees look droopy, the flowers are wilting—like someone forgot to water this whole section of the forest.

“Oh, great,” you mutter, stepping over a vine that looks like it’s given up on life. “Did everyone just forget what hydration is?”

When you reach Vil’s cottage, your gut instinct kicks into overdrive.

Something’s wrong. Really wrong. Your heart is racing. You knock once. Twice. Still nothing. Panic sets in, and before you know it, you’re knocking the door clean off its hinges in your haste.

“Oops,” you whisper, but there’s no time to dwell on it because you see someone on the bed. It’s Vil, and he’s looking about as far from his usual flawless self as you’ve ever seen. He’s feverish, pale, and frankly, it kind of looks like he's dying.

“Vil!” you rush over, shaking him gently. He opens his eyes, squinting at you like you’re an overly bright light in the middle of his fever dream.

“I didn’t know hallucinations could be so vivid,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse.

“What hallucinations? I’m real!” You’re practically crying now, shaking him harder. He just smiles faintly, completely convinced that you’re some fever-induced mirage.

Fantastic. Not only is he sick, but he also thinks you’re a figment of his imagination.

Frantically, you start brewing a cooling potion, your hands shaking as you mix the ingredients. Vil just watches you with a dazed, slightly amused expression, like he’s impressed that his hallucination has such a good grasp on potion-making.

“I’m real,” you repeat, as you pour the potion down his throat. He gives a tiny nod before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Cue full-on panic mode. You don’t know what’s happening or why Vil’s like this, so you do the only thing you can think of—you send a carrier pigeon to Rook, because of course fairies don’t have phones.

Rook shows up in record time, practically gliding into the cottage like some kind of majestic hunting bird. He takes one look at the pitiful scene—Vil feverish and weak, you hovering like an anxious mother hen—and smiles.

“Oh, he’s heartbroken,” Rook declares, as if that explains everything.

“Heartbroken?!” you echo, disbelief dripping from every syllable. “I saw him two days ago, and he was fine. How could he be heartbroken in two days?!”

“Ah,” Rook says, his eyes twinkling with dramatic flair, “fairies can only fall in love once, and when they do, they fall hard. He thought you wouldn’t return after your exams. He was suffering in silence, believing you’d move on without him.”

You stare at Rook, dumbfounded. “Is he blind?!” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been horrendously in love with him since day one! How could he not notice?”

Rook just beams at you, like you’ve confirmed his favorite romantic theory. “Ah, l’amour. So tragic, yet so beautiful.”

At this point, you’re ready to throw your hands up in frustration. How does Vil not notice? You’ve been making him skincare products, practically living in his cottage, and hovering over him like a lovesick puppy. Could he really think you were just going to leave? But of course, Vil—being Vil—had assumed you’d outgrow him and move on to something better, leaving him behind like a discarded serum bottle.

With renewed determination, you take care of Vil, nursing him back to health with potions and plenty of water. You even manage to coax him to eat something other than the fairy equivalent of air-dried kale. Slowly, he starts looking more like himself, his fever fading and his color returning. But when he finally wakes up, fully lucid, his eyes widen in shock.

“You... you’re real?” he whispers, staring at you like you’re some miraculous vision.

“Yes, I’m real,” you huff, crossing your arms. “And I made this.” You pull out the lip balm you’ve been working on, your prized creation. You swipe some on your lips and then lean down to kiss him.

Vil blinks, stunned into silence. After a moment, a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That’s... a surprisingly effective balm.”

You grin, feeling the tension melt away. “Maybe you should test it again.”

Vil wastes no time, pulling you in for another kiss, his lips soft and cool from the balm. He kisses you a second time, then a third—because, well, it’s important to make sure the balm has long-lasting effects, right?

But then, you pull back slightly, the grin slipping from your face. “Vil, I... I passed all my exams. I even got an offer to move to the capital.”

Vil’s entire body tenses. His hands, still resting on your waist, tighten slightly as his eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place—fear? Dread? Whatever it is, it’s like a storm cloud settling over him.

“Oh.” His voice is soft, but there’s a weight to it, like he’s bracing himself for the inevitable. “I see.”

You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself so carefully, as if preparing for you to tell him you’re leaving. That you’re going to take the offer and disappear from his life, just like he feared. He’s already trying to let you go, even as his hands tremble slightly against your waist. It hits you all at once—how terrified he must have been, thinking you’d leave him behind.

For a moment, you just watch him, your heart aching at the sight of his barely concealed distress. And then, finally, you say, “I declined the offer.”

Vil’s breath catches. His eyes snap up to yours, wide with disbelief. “You... you what?”

You smile, leaning in closer. “I declined. I’m not going anywhere, Vil. In fact...” You take a deep breath, your grin widening. “I’m opening a skincare shop right here, on the edge of the forest. And I’m going to live here. With you. No arguments.”

For a moment, Vil just stares at you, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Then, slowly, the tension in his body dissolves, replaced by pure, unfiltered relief. His hands, which had been shaking moments ago, steady as they pull you closer, wrapping you in a tight embrace.

“You’re staying?” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’m staying,” you confirm, your heart swelling at the way he’s holding you, like he’s afraid to let go.

Vil presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I love you,” he murmurs, his voice so soft, you almost miss it.

Your heart skips a beat. You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too, drama king.”

Vil huffs out a small, breathy laugh, pulling you down into the bed with him, his arms wrapped securely around you. For a moment, everything is still, peaceful, as you lie there together, tangled in each other’s arms. Neither of you says a word, content just to hold each other, the weight of the past few days finally lifting.

And as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel a sense of warmth, knowing that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—by Vil’s side, where you’ve always belonged.

I'm so deeply in love with this man it's kinda embarrassing

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit x you #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #vil #twst vil #twst vil x reader

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daphwritesworld · 1 month ago

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#23 A. Russo– digital bath.

content: daddy kink, strap on(r receiving), eating pussy (both receiving), fingering (r receiving), hair grabbing, manhandling, cock warming, impact play, referring to strap as a cock, dom/sub relationship, top!Alessia, bottom!reader

warnings: slight intoxication while having sex, dom lessi, teammates hearing you two fuck, spankings

synopsis: You drunkenly claim that Alessia is a bottom to the team…she shows you & them just how bad you’re lying through your teeth.

word count: 2.6k

!! MINORS DNI!! 18+ CONTENT

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The teams all gathered in an air bnb for the weekend. It’s supposed to be a “team bonding trip,” but considering how close you all were– it’s really just like a mini vacation. It’s the second night and well into the evening. A few hours have passed since someone, you can’t remember who broke out the wine, but you’re two and a half glasses deep already. Your girlfriend’s disappeared to the bathroom and you’re starting to clench your thighs together every time you think of her. Alcohol always brings out the more horny and risky side of you. Usually so soft-spoken and shy discussing anything like that..goes right out the window after the tipsy level has been reached.

“so who tops, you or less?” a drunk Leah lets out from across the couch.

You’d usually blush and tell her to mind her business or shut up, but the alcohol cursing through everyone’s veins was making you feel confident…and stupid.

“Obviously, it’s me. Don’t you notice how she does everything I say or want?” a smirk crossing your face as you lift your drink back to your lips to take a sip. The burn masking the lies you know will catch up with you sooner rather than later.

“Oh my god, she even ties your shoes for you without you asking!” Beth chimes in with a laugh

“Or how all she has to do is give Russo one look and she shuts right up!” Lia starts getting in on the discussion.

“See, I told you. I’ve got her on a leash—“

“And who would that be, love? With the collar on and everything?” the color drains from your face as the all too familiar voice from the hallway entrance fills the room.

Silence follows as her footsteps get closer. You can’t even look up at her, picking at your fingers and looking at your lap to distract yourself. You don’t even look up at her when her feet are right before you. Her fingers reach for your chin, bringing your face up. When your eyes don’t follow she starts counting back from, “five.” your heartbeat starts to pick up. “four,” her voice gets more stern. “three,” her grip tightens on your jaw. “two,” you gulp as you bite your lip weighing your options. “O-“You look up at her, eyes pleading for her to be nice.

“Look who decided to listen. Now stand u-“

“No! Less, baby please..”

“Stand up and say your goodnights. Now.”

You can tell she’s not playing around from the look on her face and the tone she’s using with you. So you do as she says, rising off the couch and biding your teammate’s goodnight before she’s leading you to the room you’d be sharing for the weekend. The first one on the left as you enter the hall a.k.a the closest one to the living room where all the girls still reside. As soon as the door’s shut she’s got her hand in your hair, bringing you to the bed. She sits herself down first, laying your body down across her lap. She releases her grip on your hair before running her hands down your body, stopping at your waist to yank your shorts down. They collect at your ankles, Alessia letting a groan out as you flinch from the cold air hitting your wet pussy.

“No panties on, babe? What am I gonna do with you, naughty girl?”

Before you get a chance to respond she’s letting one of her hands come down onto your ass. You let out a small yelp of pain and quickly cover your mouth, going red at the thought of any of the girls hearing you from so close.

“Move. Your. Hand.” she spanks you harder after each word, switching between cheeks to not overwhelm you.

When you don’t make a move to comply with her, she lets out a loud sigh. Her disappointment apparent as she yanks both of your arms behind you, keeping both your wrists bound to the small of your back with just one of her hands.

Her other one disappears for a few seconds, but before you can think about it.. you hear it. The clacking of her belt coming off, pulling it through the loops of the jeans she’d worn out tonight.

“You’d think you would of learned to listen by now…unless you just like getting punished. Like winding me up and getting put back in your place after,” the laugh she lets out is bone-chilling. She rubs your ass a few times before you feel the first one. It’s not too bad, but enough to finally bring some tears to your eyes.

“Alessia!’ it comes out whiney, high pitched, and so so loud.

It’s followed by another 14, the next one harsher than the last.

“Lessia, please touch me. I promise I’ll be a good girl for you! J-just please!” your crying at this point, slipping deeper into subspace by the second.

“You did so good for me, Love. Took all your spankings without complaint. Now let’s reward you a bit, yeah?” She leans down to leave light kisses on your back. Rubbing softly over your ass to not hurt you more, she could tell you’d be bruised there tomorrow and aching before sunrise. You nod your head as you look back at her, tears still flowing and pussy still dripping. She doesn’t waste any time running her fingers through your folds and collecting your wetness to bring up and ghost over your clit. She brings them back down after teasing you, shoving two of her fingers into your pussy to your surprise. A loud moan rips from your throat as you get used to the stretch. The slight sting makes you wetter if possible, already creating a puddle on Alessia’s jeans. She picks her pace up when she feels it soaking through to her skin, her thumb coming up to rub your clit.

“Lessie, you feel s-so fucking go-good!” your brain is fuzzy at this point. Stuttering and slurring your words as the pleasure starts to blind you. Your toes curling and your thighs squeezing shut– but it doesn’t last. Not for long anyway, because Alessia is pulling her fingers out and away from you.

“That was mean!” you’re flipping your body around, arms crossed over your chest as the tears roll down your cheeks and the pout wobbles on your lips.

“Oh look at you, crying ‘cause you didn’t get to cum. I’ve got you so fucking spoiled, don’t I?” Alessia is doing that cold laughter from before, and something about it still sends a rush down your spine. Then she’s up rummaging around in her overnight bag as you stay sulking on the bed.

“Maybe if you apologize nicely, I’ll let you come on my cock,” it’s spoken so softly compared to everything else she’s said tonight that you fold. Your head jumps up to look at her at the end of the bed and your mouth flies open. She’s stark naked besides the lacey black bra adorning her chest, and the brand new strap-on attached to her waist. The sight truly takes your breath away for a moment until she grabs your ankles and pulls you to her. She manhandles you so her cock rests on your pussy, letting her hand come down and lightly slap your inner thigh.

“I-I’m sorry, baby! I don’t know what came over me to lie, I swear! I won’t do it again, I-I promise!”

“Mm I don’t know, Love..I think you can do a bit better than that, don’t you?” she’s giving you a knowing smirk. One you’ve only seen a few times when she’s in the mood for a certain name. Your eyes go wide, “b-but the girls-”

“Then you better stay quiet,” she says it in a way that leaves no room for discussion.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry I lied to the team. I’m sorry if I embarrassed or disrespected you…so so sorry! Just wanna be your good girl and cum for you,” your hands come up and guide hers to your breasts. “Just wanna make it up to you, Daddy..”

Alessia groans shortly, cutting it off early to hear the gasp you always let out when she lines her hips up and first pushes the tip in. No matter how many times she’s fucked you, it always stretches you the same. She goes slowly and at your pace, until she bottoms out, rubbing circles on your hips as she waits for your go-ahead. After a few minutes, you look up and nod at her, giving her permission to fuck you…but nothing could’ve prepared you for the way she starts jackhammering her plastic cock into you. Pulling all the way out so she can hear your pussy squelch every time the head dives back in.

“Ales–”

She stops for a second, throwing your legs up over her shoulders, “That’s not my fucking. Name.”. She thursts extra hard for emphasis making your eyes start to cross. Leaning forward and forcing the strap even deeper inside you at this position.

“Daddy!” the word flies out faster and louder than anything else you’d said that night, making your girlfriend smile against your forehead as she leans down to press a kiss there. “Ohh f-fuck, your so fucking b-big!” Your hands grab at her forearms, nails digging into Alessia’s skin.

“You like my big cock, Baby?” she’s biting at your bottom lip now, pulling it away as you moan at the feeling as she lets it go.

“I fucking love it!” you’re staring into each other’s eyes at this point. Alessia hissing as your nails buried in her forearms start to scratch down, the burn of it creeping up and helping build towards her orgasm. She moves your hands to her back as she lets one of hers find your clit. Rolling figure eights over your sensitive bud, a white creamy ring appearing around the base of her strap.

“C-can I cum, Daddy?”

“Not yet, Cuore Mio. Hold it for me,” she’s finally starting to break a sweat at this point. Her baby hairs starting to stick up from her ponytail.

“I c-can’t, Less!”

“Oh yes, the fuck you can. And you will. Don’t you dare cum until I say, you understand?” her voice goes back to being stern, and her thrusts get harder, her frustration with you focusing all into her hips now. Fucking you with so much passion she swears she can feel your pussy gripping her dick like a real piece of her body. She’s too wound up to even make you correct yourself, letting the name slips go by unnoticed.

“I-I’m so-sorry!” you let out a squeal as the straps pushed out of your pussy by the liquid spraying out of it, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as your back arches.

Alessia’s stuck between wanting to suck the squirt off your pussy or edging you till tomorrow. She settles for a groan of “Fuck, Amore Mio!”

Her fingers instantly start trailing down to replace her cock, curling them into your g-spot and rutting them into it over and over again. Your hand reaches for her wrist trying to slow her down, but it’s no use, she slaps it away with her other one. Your eyesight starts to blur as the coil in your stomach winds back up again, and you try to warn her with a few grunts and moans. She’s got you rendered speechless from the overstimulation, eyes rolling again as she closes her lips around your clit. You soak her fingers instead of her abdomen this time, placing a soft kiss on your clit before standing back up.

That’s when you see it– the light glistening off her chin and lower mouth. Your cheeks flush as she pulls you in for a kiss, tasting yourself on her lips.

“Turn around, Love,” she says with a frown, and you know she’s still mad at you for cumming without permission. “And get into position.”

“Yes ma’am. I’m sorry,” and for once tonight you just do as she asks you the first time. You place your knees open before laying your head on the mattress, arching your back as much as you can. Your beaten ass is on full display for your girlfriend to see her handy work, and she can’t help but to reach for her phone and snap a photo of you like this before tossing it back down. A little reminder if you ever forget this lesson and want a sneak peek back into it again.

Alessia grabs ahold of your waist with one hand while the other grabs her strap. She grinds against your pussy a few times, getting the strap wet before sliding in balls deep with no hesitation. This angle has the harness hitting her clit perfectly, and her fucking you wildly as she chases the feeling. You hear the groans, moans, and pants from behind you, and try to picture how pretty her face looks. Something about the sounds Alessia is making makes you throw your ass back. The hard smack of your hips hitting hers sends shock waves through her body. Her brows furrow, her grip tightens on your waist, and her sounds of pleasure start being growled into your ear. She’s got a hand in your hair– pulling your head back with a gaspy moan leaving your lips. “Fuuuck, Tesoruccio. Keep going, Baby!”

And so you do. You push your ass back against her harder in this new position, her legs starting to shake as yours do. “I-I’m close, Lessie!”

“I’m close too, Baby! Cream all over this dick for me, go on,” she’s groaning out how much she loves you, her own cum running down and mixing with yours. Making a mess as your left brain dead, repeating “Thank you!” over and over as your body shakes from how hard the orgasm rocks you.

She goes to pull out after you’ve both calmed down some– but you wrap your legs around her waist with a pout.

“Don’t go,” you say softly as you take her hands into yours. Interlocking them and placing them above your head.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love. just to get us cleaned up.”

“No, I mean..stay inside me, please? Wanna sleep like this, baby.”

And how could she say no to that? So she scoops you up in the same position and slowly but surely gets you placed under the covers and snuggled up against your girlfriend(and her fake cock).

-bonus-

The next morning…

After a nice wake-up fuck, courtesy of your girlfriend– you decided to slide that harness off her and eat her out. Her hand is in your hair, guiding your head along her pussy as you both try and stay quieter this time. Your eyes are on the verge of rolling just from the sight of her, her chest rising and falling as you bring her closer to the edge with every flick of your tongue.

“Fuck me with your tongue now, yeah just like that! Good girl, Love,” you’re dizzy off the praise she’s giving you, fingernails digging into her thighs as you moan into her pussy.

Her grip in your hair tightens as she starts humping up against your mouth, her wetness and cum getting all over your face as you savor the times like this when she’s the one underneath you. (even if she is the one in charge still)

When she cums for the second time in a row, she pulls your mouth up towards her own. Sharing a kiss and finally starting to get up and dressed for the day

“You brought your own clothes you know?” your girlfriend says as she pulls your back into her chest. you can feel the rumble of her laugh as she leans down slightly to leave a kiss on the back of your neck. “And you know i’ve been looking for this hoodie you, Mostriciattolo!” it’s followed by a light slap to your ass. Not too hard to hurt your bruises, but not soft enough to not feel it.

“Yeah i did ..but they don’t smell like you, or fit like yours, and well…too bad so sad, babe! Finders keepers losers weepers!” You turn around and plant a kiss on her lips before going to the door, clad in some of her training shorts and a hoodie of hers you had actually packed with you. You can still remember her running around looking for it while playing the oblivious girlfriend…But once you both make it to the kitchen it is an all-out brawl.

“You know I never took you for the Daddy type. Leah sure, but you?? I’m actually taken aback. Some best friend you are!” Ella is the first to break the intense stare-down between everyone in the room.

“OH DADDY YEAH RIGHT THERE!”

“Who did that? I do NOT sound like that!” you finally chip in after hearing the god-awful pornstar-level rendition of your voice, a deep crimson blush spreading across your cheeks.

“I’m scarred for life after last night, remind me to never get a room next to yours again. I swear you lot they were up at 6am fucking AGAIN,” Leah grimaces at the thought, “how you two got like 3 hours of sleep and still managed to go again for two hours this morning is actually bloody ridiculous. You both should be studied in a fucking lab.”

The kitchen breaks out into loud laughter and incessant teasing remarks as you bury your face into Alessia’s neck to hide. She’s about to rip into everyone for making you upset, but she feels the smile and the small laughs against the skin of her neck and relaxes.

#a.russo 23 #woso smut #woso fanfics #woso x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo smut #alessia russo imagine #arsenal smut #arsenal x reader #arsenal x y/n

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novaursa · 2 months ago

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The Fire That Was Promised

- Summary: You burn down King’s Landing in an act of revenge before flying to Shadowlands.

- Paring: sister!reader/Aegon I Targaryen (one-sided)

- Note: This short story is one of the possible endings to The Broken Crown series, where Y/N takes revenge against her brother.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @fiction-fanfic-reader @fireandblood-mharmie @poisonedsultana @sunset18rose

The wind tears at your hair as Tesaerix’s powerful wings slice through the air, carrying you higher and farther from the place that no longer feels like home. The dark expanse of the Narrow Sea stretches below you, a boundless void that mirrors the one gnawing at your heart. You should be bound for Winterfell, not Essos, wrapped in the furs of the North and preparing to wed Torrhen Stark. Instead, you’re flying away from everything you thought you’d ever wanted. Everything that should have been yours.

Your thoughts twist and turn, darker than the night sky around you. Aegon had taken everything from you. He had called off your betrothal with a cold, ruthless command, casting aside the promise of a life and family that had been within your grasp. Your role as his sister-wife, his conquest, had been his choice, not yours. You were the youngest, the last to be claimed by his insatiable hunger for power—and perhaps something more.

Anger thrums through you, a living thing, and you feel it course through Tesaerix as well. Your bond is deep, your emotions shared. The mighty dragon's blood-red eyes flicker with the same rage that seethes in your veins. You grit your teeth, clutching the reins tighter. The sky blurs as hot tears sting your eyes. Tears of frustration, of loss, of betrayal. You’re fleeing, yes, but there’s no solace to be found in running.

You’ve flown long enough.

Without a word, you guide Tesaerix in a sharp, spiraling turn, your heart hammering as you abandon your course to Essos. The golden dragon roars in response, a sound of confusion, anger—and something else. As if she, too, senses the burning desire that has ignited within you. Revenge.

King’s Landing looms on the horizon, a sprawling city bathed in the eerie glow of the moon. The sight of it fuels your wrath. The seat of your brother’s power, the very heart of his kingdom—and your prison. The memory of Aegon’s face, impassive and unyielding as he broke your betrothal, flashes before you. He had not cared for your happiness, for your wishes. He had seen only what was his to take, to control.

“Dracarys,” you whisper, your voice trembling with fury and resolve.

Tesaerix responds instantly, diving down toward the city like an arrow loosed from a bow. Her massive form eclipses the moon as she descends, her wings unfurling in a terrifying display of strength. You can feel the heat building in her chest, the deep rumble that precedes a dragon’s breath of fire.

The first burst of flame hits the Flea Bottom, a rush of golden fire that spreads like a wave over the ramshackle buildings. Screams rise up from below, a cacophony of panic and pain. You feel no remorse, no hesitation. Aegon took your future; now you’ll take his city.

The Great Sept crumbles beneath the onslaught of dragonfire, the stained glass windows shattering in a shower of molten shards. The bells ring out, a desperate, mournful sound that echoes through the dying city. Tesaerix roars, her own fury mingling with yours, and you feel the bond between you surge, unbreakable, forged in this moment of wrath and ruin.

You leave only the Aegonfort untouched, a twisted gift to your brother, the conqueror who took and took until there was nothing left of you but a vessel for his ambitions. Let him rule over the ashes of his realm, let him see what his greed has wrought.

As the city burns, you turn Tesaerix’s head towards the east. You cast one last glance at the inferno below, the flames painting the sky with a hellish glow. It is done. You have nothing left here but ghosts and memories, and you refuse to be haunted any longer.

With a sharp command, you urge Tesaerix onward, her powerful wings carrying you away from the smoking ruin of King’s Landing. The air is heavy with the scent of destruction, the cries of the dying fading into the distance as you climb higher, breaking through the veil of smoke and cloud.

You imagine Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya scrambling in confusion, rushing to their dragons. But you are already beyond their reach, the skies your domain, your dragon faster and fiercer than they could ever hope to match. By the time they take to the air, King’s Landing is a smoldering ruin, the night sky painted with the orange glow of the burning city.

And you do not look back again. You set your sights on the Shadowlands, on the mysteries and dangers that await you beyond the known world. You are no longer Aegon’s sister, no longer the bride denied. You are the dragon unleashed, and the world will remember this night as the first of many that you will carve your own fate into the very bones of history.

You leave the Aegonfort standing alone, a silent monument in a city of the dead, for him to find in the cold light of dawn. Let him see the ruin you have wrought, the empire of ash he has earned.

#fire and blood #house of the dragon #game of thrones #asoiaf #aegon the conqueror #aegon i x you #aegon i x reader #aegon i x y/n #aegon i targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you

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scarletlizzard · 10 months ago

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Part 1: Get Help

Sessions Series

Pairing: psychiatrist Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: being stalked, paranoia, therapy, mentions of sex

Masterlist

Fall 2018

It was the same thing every day.

You wake up, make breakfast, and go for a run. You go to work, a normal 9-5 job downtown. After work, you would wind down by making dinner and sometimes taking a bath with a glass of wine. You go to bed around the same time every night, letting the sounds of I Love Lucy lull you to sleep.

Your routine was all but normal, though. You had a shadow.

Your daily jog was filled with turning your head, constantly aware of a presence behind you, one that you could never see. You thought it was over until one night when you were making dinner, you happened to look out the window and saw a person standing across the street. The glass of wine you were holding dropped from your hand onto the floor beneath your feet. You step back onto the glass and wince, tearing your eyes from the shapeless figure.

When you look up again, they've disappeared.

This happened for weeks until you finally gave in and told your friend one night over a bottle of wine.

"Look, this is them. They're back," you say, handing the phone to Natasha. She raises an eyebrow and looks at the blurry picture on the screen. Practically a black dot next to the bus stop a few houses down from yours.

"But why would they wait so long? It's been over a year, and.." she squints, staring at the picture. "That kind of just looks like a blob.." the woman says and sips her wine, a concerned look on her face at your frantic state.

"It's not. It's them! I-I swear I'm being followed, being watched... every where I go, it's like, I can feel them. The police won't do anything about it." You move your shaking hand away from her to gulp down the rest of your wine.

"Look, Y/N.." Natasha sighs and sets down her glass, turning her body to face yours. "I know you've been through a lot, everything that.. happened last summer. I think - maybe you should.. get some help." She tries to soften the blow of calling you crazy by resting a hand on your thigh. You only look to her with betrayed eyes.

"I'm not crazy," you speak calmly, your tone stern, but the crack in your voice only solidifies Natashas' point.

"I don't think you are, Y/N. Here.." She grabs her purse, pulling out a business card from it casually, as if she just happened to have it. You knew her better than that. "This is my friend. She's an amazing psychiatrist. Just talk to her, give it a chance."

You snatch the card away from her hands, not making eye contact with her. Natasha sighs again and stands, watching your leg bounce harder. She leans down to kiss your forehead.

"I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.." She trails off, unsure if you'd even reply.

"Love you." You mumble, pouring yourself another glass.

After she leaves, you stare at the business card in your hand, eyes settled on the name in bold lettering. You crumple the card, ball it up in your hand, and throw it across the room. It bounces off the wall with a small 'thunk'. Then you're left sitting, recalling the events of last summer.

***

Summer 2017

It was an exceptionally hot night. The air conditioner had been broke all day, leaving you sweating and fanning yourself with a magazine. Also leaving you with no choice but to leave the windows open, letting a cooler breeze flow through your quiet house.

You shot a quick text to Natasha- See you tomorrow, meet at the coffee shop near yours.

With a sigh, you rest your head on the back of the couch, listening to the voices on the TV. You get a strange feeling suddenly, your whole body covered in goosebumps, the small hairs on your arms standing straight up. You slowly open your eyes, staring straight ahead at the characters running around the screen.

"Get a grip, Y/N.." You mumble to yourself, patting your cheeks as if to wake yourself up. Maybe you just needed some sleep. Your anxiety seemed to be kicking up again. Your hands reach for the remote on the table in front of you, and you press the power button, turning the TV off.

It's then you see, in the black screen, reflecting an image not only of you but a person standing directly behind you.

***

Current Fall 2018

No, I'm NOT doing this right now.

You think to yourself, swallowing down your third glass of wine for the night. Instead, you get up to double -no, triple- check all of the locks in your house. The windows to the backyard, locked. The sliding glass backdoor, locked. The windows to the front of the house, locked. The front door, locked. The side door leading to the garage, locked. Windows in any bedrooms, locked. Your bedroom door and window, locked.

It was exhausting, but it was a routine you had been following for the past year. It kept you safe. You turn on I Love Lucy, drifting off into another nightmare with your mysterious shadow.

The morning after, you awake to your alarm and slap your hand on your loud phone to slide it off. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The morning sun shines brightly in the room, the light warm on your skin.

I am NOT crazy...

You repeat to yourself over and over, a mantra easily spoken and believed in your mind. Breakfast was made and eaten, running shoes tied to your feet, laces double knotted, ID and cash in case of emergencies, and headphones settle snug in your ears. The first mile was fine, humming along to your music, and enjoying the cold fall. It was when you were heading back towards your house that you began to have that unsettling feeling.

Your panicked eyes look around as you jog, your head constantly turning from side to side as you look for your shadow. You find yourself reaching into your pocket, letting your hand grab onto the pepper spray you had brought with you. Only a little ways to go. It's fine.

Your pace sped up, but your shadow was creeping up closer to you. Your heart was racing. Sweat was dripping down your forehead. With your thumb gripping the spray, you suddenly turn around, spraying the shadow behind you.

"Ahhh! What the fuck!" A man screams, falling to his knees in front of you. Your heart was beating out of your chest at the sight of him, rubbing his eyes and screaming in pain. But on the sidewalk in front of him you see your emergency clip that held your cash and ID.

"Jason! Oh my god, what did you do to him?" A woman comes running up to his side, sliding her arm around him. "Are you crazy? You dropped this. He was trying to give it back to you!" She screams at you, throwing the clip in your direction. Dollar bills fly to the ground, and you back up.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't know, I thought he was - I didn't know.." Your voice trails off as you shake your head, hands shaking. "I didn't know.." You repeat it 4 times.

"Y/N, you're lucky he didn't press charges, I can't believe you actually pepper sprayed him.." Natashas voice sounded from the phone in your hand as you recall the events from the morning.

"I know, I can't believe I did either. I feel so fucking bad about it.." you hold your head in your hand, guilt filling your gut.

"It happened. There's nothing you can do about it now. He'll be fine.. people get pepper sprayed all the time," she tries to joke, attempting to lighten the mood.

You sit up and sigh into the phone, looking around the room. The TV playing, the dusty art supplies sitting on a desk in the corner. Your eyes find and focus on the crumpled business card on the floor by the wall. As you stand, your feet carry you over, picking it up.

"I'll talk to you later, Nat," you say, letting her say goodbye before you hang up. Your hands straighten out the card, and you once again read the name in bold lettering.

The clock on the wall read 5:28 as you sat, one day after work, on a chair in the hallway near the front door. You look around the hallway that leads to a massive house. It seemed the front was used for her practice, a room on either side of the hallway. One you assumed an office, the other a room to meet with patients. The clock ticked to 5:29, and your leg began to bounce.

The door on the wall across from you opens, revealing a brown headed woman with a warm smile on her face. She was taller, a creme colored blouse and brown pants settled on her legs. Her familiar green eyes find yours, and you both let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"Y/N.." Wanda says and holds out her hand to you, watching as you stand in front of her.

Your hand reaches for hers, "Wanda.." Her hand is warm and soft in yours. You know you linger too long in her grip. She leads you into room number two, a medium-sized room with one big, comfortable looking chair and an even more comfortable looking couch. Behind her comfy chair was an extravagant looking fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, and as you walked inside, your fingers trail the spines of the books that sat on them. It felt comfortable and safe. The sun was beginning to set, and an orange glow filled the room. Wanda sits in a chair, a notepad, and pen in her lap. You follow suit, sitting across from her on the couch.

"So, are you sure you want to do this? I'd be more than happy to recommend you to some other, highly recommended, co-workers of mine?" Wanda says with a smile, and you can't help but blush. She just had that effect on you.

"As long as you're okay with it, I am. I trust you, and right now, I really need that.." You mumble the last part, sitting back into the couch. Wanda nods, understanding of you.

One of the last times you saw Wanda she was in your bed, giving you what still stands today, the best orgasms of your life. Natasha had thrown a Christmas party where you met. You and Wanda came alone. You both had a lot to drink, and one thing led to another. You spent the night talking and laughing, getting to know each other as you came on her fingers. After that, you saw her from time to time, over a couple of months. She let you eat her out on your couch and fucked you against the counter in your kitchen. It was the best sex you'll probably ever have. You felt more alive with her than you had in years.

But then you had to leave town for work, and by the time you came back, the two of you had lost touch. Then, a few months after, during the summer, when your shadow appeared, you cut practically everyone out of your life.

"Well then, let's get started," Wanda interrupts your train of thoughts with a click of her pen, crossing her legs. "I reviewed the file you sent over from your stay at the Bay Point Medical Center. Do you want to talk about that?" She asks, her voice as smooth as honey.

You let out a shaky sigh, playing with the zipper of the bag you held in your lap. "I've always been.. anxious, since I was a kid. Always had these uh, routines. Tie my shoes until they felt right, flick the lights 4 times before bed."

"Were you ever diagnosed or tested as a kid?"

"No, my mom didn't believe in that sort of thing."

"So you were first diagnosed with OCD and Bipolar Disorder at Bay Point." Wanda makes a note. You tap your leg 4 times.

"Yes."

"So what led you to that moment, to that night?" Her voice is so inviting. You would tell her just about anything at this point.

"I'm sure it says in the file.." You clear your throat, suddenly being unable to look her in the eyes.

"There is a version, but I'd like to hear yours." Her eyebrows raise, pen hovering over the paper of the pad.

"It was a few days after I saw my shadow," you start, Wanda has a curious look on her face.

A pause.

"Your shadow?" She asks, you nod.

"The stalker, person watching me." You reply, she nods for you to continue. "I hadn't slept in days. The police didn't believe me. There was no evidence, they said, that anyone besides me had been in the house that night. So I went to the docks, and I-I bought a gun from some junkie. I'm not proud of what I did," you say, meeting her comforting gaze.

"I'm sure. You hadn't slept in days. You were delusional - sleep deprived. No medication, no diagnosis. Under extreme stress. Given the circumstances, I'm glad no one was hurt." Wanda concurs.

"Well, maybe not physically. But when you wave a gun around at 3 in the morning down the street, maybe a little psychological damage to the family that found me," you groan and put your head in your hands.

"The report said you had left a note at your house. What did it say?" Wanda asks, and you think back to when you scribbled on a piece of paper, what you thought would be, your last words. You're quiet for a moment. Wanda can tell you won't answer that question just yet.

"How about, who did you leave it for?" She asks.

"For my shadow."

The rest of the session you had spilled about your feelings that night and talked about you OCD and Bipolar disorder. You told her about your stay at the mental hospital, and told her about your routines. You spoke to her of almost everything.

"I think this session was really productive, Y/N. You've been very open with me, and I appreciate that." Wanda stood at the front door, smiling down to you. It was dark now, the sun at set completely. "I'll see you at the same time, Thursday?"

You nod and smile back at her. "I'll see you then." You walk to your car, feeling lighter. But you also can't ignore the hair on the back of your neck rising as you drive away.

***

Summer 2017

You scream loudly as you turn to see a figure behind you. A shadow, dressed in all black. A white faceless mask covered their true face. They stand still as you back away, slowly tilting their head to the side.

"Run." A menacing whisper, a familiar tone.

You run.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #dark fic

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cutielando · 1 year ago

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thank you | r.c.

synopsis: in which he can't thank you enough for loving him

my masterlist

Rafe was a lot of things, but you'd have never thought that he was a hopeless romantic.

When you first started dating, he wasn't overly affectionate or loving per se, just like you expected him to be.

However, that all changed after he confided in you about his problems with his father. More specifically, after you caught the two of them in an argument.

He had texted you in the morning asking you to meet up later in the evening to have a sleepover, but you had arrived 2 hours earlier to surprise him.

"God damn it, Rafe!" you heard a booming voice shouting as soon as you opened your car's door.

Just as you closed it and went to get your things from the trunk, you heard glass shattering from inside.

Assuming the worst, you immediately ran inside towards the noise, which proved to be coming from the kitchen.

When your boyfriend came into your view, you couldn't help but gasp.

His eyes were bloodshot, he had a massive bruise covering his jaw, he had a busted lip and his knuckles were bloodied and bruised.

"What happened?" you asked, walking in and seeing Ward on the floor and some broken glass underneath him.

The two men looked at each other, both of them fuming.

Rafe said nothing as he took your hand and led you up the stairs to his bedroom, not saying a single word the entire time.

"Are you okay?" you asked him once you were alone in his room.

He didn't say anything but looked at you with the most broken expression you'd ever seen. He looked so small, so fragile just standing there after being to a pulp by his own father.

"No" his voice broke as he managed to utter out a single word.

You sighed and pulled him into your arms, your hands running up and down his back. He was holding onto you for dear life, like you were going to vanish from his arms in the next second.

He started sobbing into your neck, letting out everything he had been keeping bottled up for a long time. Your shirt was soaked by his tears, but you couldn't care less.

Rafe needed you and you didn't care about anything else other than him.

You stayed like that for a good 15 minutes before he started to calm down and his sobs quieted down.

"Do you want me to run you a bath? You could lay on me and just relax in the warm water" you whispered in his ear, afraid that speaking any louder would disturb the quiet atmosphere.

"Yeah, I'd like that" he said, slowly pulling away from you.

You gave him a small smile, trying to show him that you were there for him and everything was going to be okay. You weren't leaving his side until he felt better.

He gave you a smile back and leaned down to peck your lips slightly, any more contact hurting his busted lip.

You stepped out of his arms and quickly worked your way around his bathroom, lighting some candles and choosing some bath bombs to put in the water.

"Baby? The bath is ready" you told him as you stuck your head through the bathroom door.

He slowly stood up and undressed as you did the same, folding his clothes and putting them on the washing machine.

You got in the tub first and leaned against it while Rafe got in after and laid with his back against your chest.

"You're too good for me" he whispered as you kept tracing imaginary lines on his chest with your nails, trying your best to calm him down.

"No, I'm not. You deserve the best life has to offer. You're such a kind soul, baby. You came into my life and made it so much better, gave it a meaning and someone to keep fighting for. Baby, I love you so damn much, it's you and I until the end of the road. I'll always be here when you need me and you will always have my support in everything. Don't ever doubt that" you finished your speech by kissing his neck and cheek.

You couldn't see it but Rafe had tears in his eyes, but this time they were happy tears.

He never thought he would find someone who would want to be with him despite his many flaws, his anger issues, his jealousy problems, his family problems, everything.

But here you were, loving him for who he was, with his flaws and problems, with everything that he represented. And he couldn't be more grateful for you, for coming into his life and showing him that he deserved to be loved and showing him what love really was.

"I love you too, so fucking much, Y/N. I can't even understand why you are with me but I am so damn grateful you are. I can't live without you, baby. My life is not the same without you in it and I will do everything in my power to keep you and make you happy because you deserve the best. Thank you, for everything, baby"

He turned his head and kissed your lips, sealing a silent agreement between the both of you that neither of you was going anywhere.

You were in it for the long haul and nothing could change that.

Nothing and nobody could come between the two of you and your love.

Nothing.

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anatay004 · 7 months ago

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ꜰɪɴɴɪᴄᴋ ᴏᴅᴀɪʀ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴅ (part six)

ꜰɪᴠᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 70ᴛʜ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴏʀ, ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴅʀᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴇɴᴀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ — ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ-ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʙʏ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɴᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴘʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ꜱɴᴏᴡ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴀɴɪᴛʏ

"DON'T BE SCARED," Dean's voice slid into your thoughts; breaking into your reverie as you visibly flinched. Instinctively, you looked up to meet his gaze, allowing his hand to squeeze your arm comfortably. "The fabric is light, not thermal," Your stylist revealed, referring to the wetsuit you were wearing, trying to dissipate the tension in the air. "So, I'm guessing tropic."

You swallowed hard, trying to take in his words. You were in the Launch Room in the arena, waiting for the countdown to begin as Dean finished braiding your hair down your back.

"And tropic means water," Dean acknowledged, offering you an encouraging smile as you slowly nodded. "You're good in water."

He was right — you were good in water, that's how you'd managed to win your first games. You remember it all too well; an earthquake breaking the dam, the flood in the arena, and you swimming for your life. You swallowed hard at the memory, trying to ignore the pain that tormented your chest. After all, you supposed Dean was right; having an arena close to home could be a great advantage to you and Finnick.

You exhaled sharply.

"Sixty seconds to launch."

You swept Dean a glance. He was looking back at you with a familiar warmth in his eyes — one you'd seen before, and you couldn't help, but reach for him. "Are you still beating on me?" You whispered in his embrace, and his arms immediately tightened around your frame.

"Always." He answered, a little strained.

And with that, he stepped back — wiped the tears in his eyes, and watched as the glass cylinder slid down around you. You watched him blow a kiss at you before you felt the plate underneath you moving upwards. The plan was simple in your head as you leaned against the glass: get to Finnick, get some weapons, and run the hell away from the blood bath.

Simple, simple, simple.

You eventually forced yourself to straighten up when the glass started to retreat, but you found yourself frozen in place when the arena stumbled into your line of vision. For a moment, you faltered as you took in the sight of water in every direction you turned. Only one clear thought formed in your brain as you took in the landscape: Snow was beating on you too.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin!" The voice of Claudius Templesmith, the Hunger Games announcer, suddenly broke into your reverie. And, instinctively, you searched for Finnick around, but panic quickly flitted across your features when you couldn't find him.

"He's on the other side of the Cornucopia," Peeta's voice slid into your thoughts, and your shoulders slumped in evident relief when you heard his words. "Don't lose focus."

Belatedly, you realized Peeta was standing on the plate next to yours. And he was watching you with concerned eyes, trying to quench down the panic that threatened to break you in front of the cameras, but you didn't notice. You were far too preoccupied with staying alive.

Eventually, you dived into the water.

Hence to your ability to swim, you were quick to reach the spoke of land that balanced your plate and Peeta's. But, to your surprise, you didn't run towards the Cornucopia right away like the others; instead, you found yourself looking back for Peeta. He was struggling to reach the land, so, you impulsively offered him a hand and pulled him out of the water.

"Allies?" Peeta asked, trying to catch his breath as he climbed onto the land.

You didn't answer, but your silence was quite telling, and it took everything in you to ignore the smile that curved Peeta's lips, before sprinting towards the Cornucopia. Within a few minutes, you eventually reached it and immediately grabbed the closest weapon at hand — a trident. A satisfied smile twitched your lips as you balanced the weapon in your hand, but the moment was fleeting, before you knew it; Peeta was already back in the water fighting a tribute.

"Peeta!" You shouted and made to run in his direction when a steady hand dropped on your shoulder. Instinctively, you made to throw the trident, but another hand on your wrist stopped your movements altogether. "Oh." You breathed out, in sudden relief, when you realized it was just Finnick. "Are you okay?"

"Stay with Katniss, I'll get Peeta," Finnick commanded, dismissing your question, his voice powerful enough to make you obey him. In that moment, as Finnick dived effortlessly back into the water to help Peeta; you realized he'd made his alliances too. Katniss was close by, watching the scene with a horrified expression on her face. At the sight of her distress, you couldn't help but wonder if this was all an act like everyone else said. Or, if Mags was actually right, and there was something real about it?

You couldn't quite piece together an answer yet.

When the canon finally fired, your heart skipped for a moment, but relief quickly washed over you when you caught sight of Peeta's moving figure and Finnick pulling him back onto land.

The other tribute had died.

"You okay?" You eventually turned to ask Katniss, when Peeta was finally out of danger and you were both waiting for him and Finnick to come back. Katniss threw you a skeptical look, one that underlined you were not friends. "The baby, I mean."

Realization quickly dawned on her face, as if she'd suddenly remembered she was supposed to be pregnant. "Yeah, we're fine."

You nodded.

"Are you alright?" Peeta was quick to ask you, when he rushed back to the group, with Finnick strolling right behind him. The concerned tone in his voice caught you off guard, but you decided not to show it as Katniss watched you.

Carefully.

"Are you?" You asked instead, scrutinizing him for a moment; just to make sure he wasn't terribly hurt. To your surprise, he wasn't. "I barely even left you." You mumbled as you recalled he was running right behind you before he was even thrown back into the water.

"Don't." Peeta scoffed, a little faintly.

And you blinked in surprise.

"Hey," Peeta suddenly turned to Katniss, as if he'd suddenly remembered the cameras. "Are you okay?" He asked, before pressing a kiss to her cheek. You watched their interaction with curious eyes, unable to hide the perplexed expression on your face as you studied the scene.

"Yeah," Katniss replied, offering him a faint smile before turning to look at you. The weight of her gaze made your muscles tense; for a moment, you could've sworn she was throwing daggers at you. "We're okay."

The atmosphere suddenly grew thicker.

"We need to head to the jungle." Finnick suddenly spoke, breaking the tension, before sliding his free arm unexpectedly behind your waist. "We need water and a place to rest before night falls."

You nodded and made to move forward, but Finnick kept you in place; making sure Peeta walked past you first. "What?" Finnick asked innocently when you raised an eyebrow in silent question. "He can take the lead."

You opened your mouth to reply something along the lines of, " We should probably separate" but he muffled your words with his mouth— silencing you with a kiss.

"Come on," Finnick whispered against your lips, beckoning you to follow behind the group. You hesitated and lingered there for a moment before he lifted your chin to look at him. "Trust me."

You pressed your lips together and — for a split second, you thought back to the conversation with Haymitch you'd overheard from the previous night. Perhaps, this is what it was about, you thought, about this alliance with them. So, with that in mind, your grip tightened around the trident in your hand and you turned to follow Peeta and Katniss.

With Finnick right behind you.

Peeta took the lead, cutting through the patches of vegetation with his long knife as you walked through the jungle. Now and then, Katniss turned back to look at you and Finnick; as if she was almost expecting for you to attack them at any moment. You supposed you couldn't blame her for that.

You, yourself, didn't trust her either.

"God, it's hot," Peeta hissed, stopping suddenly on his track to catch his breath after a few miles. The jungle was hot and humid; you could feel your hair damp and plastered over your forehead from the sweat. Simultaneously, your lips were chapped and dry from the lack of hydration. "We need to find fresh water."

"You don't say." Finnick deadpanned, to which Peeta threw him a glare in response.

"What if we move to the other side?" You suggested, cleaning some of the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. "Maybe there's a spring or something."

"There isn't." Katniss limited herself to answer.

"How do you know — " You started, but the words quickly froze on the tip of your tongue when the cannon started to go off again; indicating more deaths.

"I guess we're not holding hands anymore," Finnick quipped, stifling a chuckle as he counted the number of times the cannon fired.

You counted three.

"You think that's funny?" Katniss hissed, throwing your husband a heated glare.

"Every time that cannon goes off, it's music to my ears," Finnick replied, matter-of-factly, before he added. "I don't care about any of them."

"Good to hear," Katniss scoffed, reaching her arm back to pull an arrow from her quiver. Instinctively, you aimed the end of your trident at her, but Finnick was quick to lower your weapon.

"You want to face the Career Pack alone?" Finnick questioned her, rather indifferent to her threat. His reaction took you aback; for some reason, he seemed certain she was not going to shoot him. "What would Haymitch say?"

You, on the other hand, were not.

"Haymitch isn't here."

You tilted the trident towards her direction again, but Peeta was the one to break the interaction this time. "Come on, let's keep moving." He said, beckoning Katniss to move along. And, from the corner of your eyes, you could've almost sworn he threw you an apologetic smile.

You watched them walk ahead of you for a few seconds without a word. She's going to kill us, you thought to yourself, as you watched the girl on fire with cautious eyes. And if she doesn't, she's certainly going to try to — at one point or another.

You nibbled your bottom lip pensively. Would this be a good time to separate? You wondered again, trying to think of a coherent plan. To turn the other way and let them face the Career Pack on their own? It's what Snow would want. But what about Peeta?

You paused, the question caught you off guard; as if you'd suddenly realized what you'd asked yourself subconsciously.

What about him?

"Put the trident down, baby," Finnick's words slid into your thoughts, and you blinked; belatedly realizing that you were still holding the trident up defensively. "They're harmless."

"You sound a little too sure about that," You questioned him, tilting your head suspiciously. "As if she didn't just threaten to shoot you."

"Just — " Finnick paused as if he were choosing his next words carefully. " — just trust me, love."

Your eyebrows knitted together. "I'm trying to."

Finnick's lips twitched, clearly dismissing the seriousness of the conversation. "You're gorgeous when you're mad."

"I'm not mad," You clarified, but the annoyance in your voice betrayed your words. "But if it has to come down to choosing, I'm choosing you."

Finnick looked at you for a moment, eyes softly lit with vulnerability. "I know."

You opened your mouth to say something else, but the sound of Katniss screaming quickly cut you off. In a split second, you watched as Peeta flung back from a force field he'd just hit, bringing you and Finnick down along with him.

"Peeta!" You screamed, rushing over to his motionless body, where Katniss was trying to shake him awake — with no luck.

"He's not breathing!" She yelled, almost frightened. "His heart's not beating!"

At the sight of this, you suddenly remembered something Mags had taught you a few years ago — when your dad had almost drowned once, and you didn't know how to bring him back. Instinctively, you pushed Katniss aside, ignoring the way she immediately reached for an arrow.

Finnick yelled something at you, something along the lines that he would do it, but there wasn't time. So, you pinched Peeta's nose and pressed your mouth over his to blow air into his lungs. You did this for a few minutes until a cough eventually slipped out his mouth and you leaned back to look at him in relief.

"Shit." You breathed out, subconsciously resting a hand over his chest as you watched his eyelids part. For a few seconds, he lay there on the ground, simply looking up at you as he slowly regained back his consciousness.

"Careful," He eventually mumbled, wrapping his fingers around your wrist harmlessly. "There's a force field up ahead."

A small laugh escaped your lips. "Thanks, I almost didn't notice."

Peeta smiled, despite the evident pain he was in, and you were just about to help him get back to his feet when Katniss slightly shoved you aside. You didn't mind, you supposed she was in the right too. But you could've sworn Peeta's grip tightened around you — for a split second as if he almost didn't want to let go.

You decided to dismiss it, thinking nothing of it as you made your way back to Finnick and Katniss pulled Peeta into an embrace.

One that made you look away — for some reason.

"I thought you wanted to separate." Finnick confronted you sometime later when you were both leaning against a tree, trying to catch some sleep before sunrise. Your head rested on his shoulder sluggishly as you watched Katniss take the first watch from a comfortable distance.

"What?" You returned, unable to hide the confusion in your voice as you looked up.

"You saved Peeta." Finnick suddenly pointed out, but his tone was hard to label. Was he angry? Unhappy? Nonchalant? You couldn't tell.

"You said they were harmless." You answered, throwing his words back at him. But he didn't answer, instead, he looked down to scrutinize your features carefully — as if he almost wanted to decipher something, but couldn't. "What?"

"You saved him twice."

Your eyebrows knitted together. "I didn't — "

" — During the blood bath, when he was pulled into the water, you were willing to jump back in to save him," Finnick interjected, and you supposed he wasn't entirely wrong. You did go back for Peeta, but only because you considered him a friend. Someone who would, strangely, do the same thing for you. Or, that's the first thing that came to your mind anyway.

"Where are you going with this?" You eventually asked, trying to read the emotions that flitted across Finnick's face, but — like always, there was nothing you could place a finger on.

"It's — just an observation." He simply said.

But you didn't like the tone of his voice, it made your skin pepper with goosebumps. If you didn't know any better, you were almost certain his tone was accusing. But of what exactly? You didn't know, he didn't elaborate any further.

"Mhm," You hummed, trying to move the conversation elsewhere. "I'm starting to get the impression you just want me to yourself."

Finnick stifled a chuckle, grasping onto the fact that you wanted to change the subject. "You? My gorgeous wife? I don't think so, no."

Your heart skipped at the word "wife". The truth was, you were still not used to it. And the word alone was enough to have your heart hammering against your chest. "Dork," You quipped, snapping your eyes to the side, but Finnick didn't miss the pink hues that tinged your skin.

"You're pretty when you blush." He teased, dissipating the tension in the air, as he curved the side of your face with the palm of his hand to make you turn to look at him again.

"I'm not blushing.” You argued, but it was a futile attempt when you felt the heat rolling up your cheeks. Naturally, Finnick pulled your face closer to his; until you could feel his breath pressing against your skin and there was barely a gap between you. Instinctively, your eyes dropped to his lips and he took the opportunity to brush them against yours.

"Sure you're not," Finnick whispered into your mouth before he allowed his tongue to sweep past your lips in a passionate kiss. As if he was almost needy; as if he almost needed to prove something. Whether it was to the cameras or himself, you weren't exactly sure, but you kissed him back — with equal fervor.

Until the sound of the arrival of a silver parachute broke you apart. For a moment, neither of you reached for it; allowing the item to land before you peacefully. After a few seconds, Katniss walked over to your spot and, subconsciously, your eyes traveled past her frame in search of Peeta.

"He's sleeping," Katniss informed you, just as Peeta's body stumbled into your line of vision. He was a few feet away, curled on the ground — sleeping almost peacefully. You nodded, trying to ignore the fact that she'd just read your subconscious thoughts.

"Whose is it?" Katniss eventually asked, eyeing the parachute on the ground with curiosity.

Finnick shrugged, pushing himself back to his feet. "I have no idea."

"Open it." You encouraged her, ignoring the way she narrowed her eyes at you. "Or not."

Katniss sighed audibly, but she eventually took your advice and opened the parachute. Curiously, you peeked over to catch a glimpse of a metal object inside alongside a note. "It's a spile!" She informed you, to which you only blinked — dumbfounded. "It's to access water."

Relief washed over your features when Katniss took the metal object and hammered it into the green bark of a tree. For a few seconds, nothing happened as you stood there watching; until a stream of water eventually ran out. After Katniss, you rushed to hold your mouth under the tap, allowing the water to wet your parched tongue.

And, it wasn't until Katniss was waking up Peeta and Finnick's back were facing you when you finally decided to search for the note that was attached to the parachute. But a chill soon kissed down your spine when you took the parchment paper in your hands and read through the letters:

Remember why you're here for.

— S.

Finnick was sleeping next to you, his arm was wrapped around your waist and his face was buried in the crook of your neck. The jungle was quiet — too quiet to your liking, but you supposed you could appreciate the silence as you warred with the thoughts inside your head.

To say the note scared you was an understatement. You were terrified. Because Snow was watching each and every one of your moves; listening to every one of your words. Unsure of how everyone else would react, you fisted the note in your hand before anyone else could read it. And when anyone asked about it, you simply answered it was from Haymitch.

But, now that you were lying down and thinking about it — one thing was clear; Snow wasn’t content with your choice of alliances.

He didn’t approve of them.

How could he? If you and Finnick were both reaped for a purpose and one only: to kill the Mockingjay. To annihilate any chances of her winning, to win over her sponsors, and to make the fight seem fair. And, so far, Snow had done his part of the deal; he’d placed you and Finnick under the limelight, made you both the Capitol’s favorites and even incarcerated you inside an arena close to home.

With tridents, especially made for you.

So, now, it was time for you to do your part too.

You swept Katniss a look, then Peeta. They were both sleeping on the other side of the ground; just a few feet away from you.

One wrong move and everything could go wrong very quickly. For you — for Finnick, and the thought alone forced a sickening feeling to retaliate in the pit of your stomach. Because you didn’t want to kill Peeta or Katniss, as much as she managed to get under your skin.

But if it had to come down to that, would you do it? Was Katniss right in mistrusting you after all? Would you really kill her and Peeta?

You exhaled pensively as your eyes searched for Peeta again — almost subconsciously. The mere sight of his chest rising and falling with each breath he took made your heart skip. Would you be able to kill him? His soft features, the strands of blonde in his hair, and his kind heart.

No, you thought quietly, not Peeta.

And then, as the thoughts quietened inside your head, something in the distance caught your attention. For a moment, you watched as a wave of fog slid into the jungle. Instinctively, the hairs of your arms rose and you pushed up on one of your elbows to examine the scene a little closer.

Simultaneously, Katniss stirred awake and quietly turned her attention to the mysterious curtain of fog too. In a matter of seconds, you watched as she reached to touch it with the tips of her fingers — and a scream quickly erupted.

“Run!” She yelled in pain.

Finnick snapped awake instantly, pushing your body behind him; ready to encounter an enemy, but to his surprise, Katniss clarified. “It’s the fog! It’s poisonous! We have to run, Peeta!”

Katniss helped Peeta climb back to his feet as Finnick beckoned you to run. For a few minutes, everyone sprinted, but the curtain of gas was expanding in every direction you turned. And it didn’t help that Peeta was tripping over everything on the ground either — he was weak, you could tell, perhaps it was the aftereffects of hitting the force field. So, without thinking, you gripped his arms securely and pulled him forward.

“Come on!” You encouraged, but your eyebrows jumped when he pulled his arm back. You opened your mouth to berate him — tell him there wasn’t time for this, when he intertwined his fingers with yours instead. Amidst the circumstances, you didn’t have time to coherent a reaction or a reason to let go.

Droplets soon sprung free of the vapor and landed on your bodies. You hissed in pain, it burned your skin searingly — like a chemical. After a few minutes, Peeta eventually fell to the ground and, despite your and Katniss’ efforts to pull back to his feet, his legs gave up.

“I’ll have to carry him.” Finnick eventually sighed, when there was a good distance between the fog and your group, and Katniss nodded.

For about a mile, you watched as Finnick carried Peeta on his back until he eventually collapsed on the ground too. You rushed to him, but the pain that seared your skin was equally as defeating, and, along with Katniss, you hit the ground almost instantly. But Finnick mumbled something under his breath, something along the lines of “go to the water” when you belatedly realized you were just a few feet away from the water that surrounded the Cornucopia.

After a few tries, however, you eventually faltered and turned to face the curtain of fog. But the chemical didn’t suffocate you as you’d expected. Unlike, it grew thicker and condensed as it suddenly pressed against a force field.

After a few minutes, it eventually went away.

“It’s gone,” Katniss murmured, but her voice was strangled and barely audible. “The fog.”

Your body was still twitching when you heard a wail slip out of Katniss’ mouth from somewhere close. Then you heard Peeta’s and then you heard Finnick’s. You tried to part your eyes when you eventually felt someone slide his hands under your armpits, but you couldn’t even do that. Naturally, you hissed in pain, but the action was abruptly interrupted by another pair of hands on you.

“I’ll do it.”

“I already got her.”

“Peeta.” The voice, you later recognized as Finnick’s, was dangerously low — as if he was suddenly speaking through his teeth.

Giving out a warning.

The only thing you could remember after that was your skin being torched. As Finnick pulled you into the water, a heart-wrenching scream ripped out your lips; as if you had suddenly been thrown into an open flame.

“I know, baby,” Finnick cooed, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “I know…”

After a bit, the blisters in your skin slunk back into your flesh and disappeared along with the pain. “Motherfuckers,” You cursed, falling back against your husband’s chest in evident exhaustion. “I’ve never run that much before.”

Finnick laughed, incredulous at your sense of humor. “You and me both.”

You didn’t say much after that, instead, you allowed yourself to indulge in the fleeting moment of peace in Finnick’s arms. But the moment didn’t last for long when you began to wonder if maybe— just maybe, this was a warning from President Snow.

And you needed to do your part of the deal soon.

Author’s Note

I’m back after a horrible writersblock! It took me so long to write this, I’m sorry, besties, but don’t worry, I have the rest of the chapters planned already. Anyways, I would really appreciate you guys could interact with the story! Lately, I don’t have that much motivation and reading you guys thoughts and comments on my inbox helps so much!

With that being said, I left some Peeta content for those of you who are #teamPeeta. Enjoy!

@serrendiipty @avoxrising@queerqueenlynn

@darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts@stayc-a-I-m

@chaoticcoffeequeen @wonderland2425

@leilani788 @nexxus13 @whatsupb18

@maxinehufflepuffprincess @meri-soni-meri-

tamanna @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake

@syd649 @flavorofsalt @wisewidowweasley-

blog@meikoo@mozz-are-lla

@nomorespahgetti

@aestheticOcherryblossom

#fanfic #finnick odair #finnick x y/n #peeta mellark x reader #jacaerys x reader #finnick odair drabble #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #hunger games finnick #the hunger games #finnick x reader x peeta #peeta mellark #peeta x reader

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justmeinadaze · 1 year ago

Text

Aftercare: Safeword (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Daddy Steve/Sir Eddie & Sub reader, SMUT, As the title suggests the safe word is used here, the smut they are engaging in isn't too rough she just feels uncomfortable mostly with how they are grabbing her and seem "not all there", choking, mentions of overstimulation without praise, brief dp, later on more romantic softer smut, dirty talk, etc, FLUFF, they love each other <3, aftercare after use of the safe word, ANGST, mentions of past toxic relationships, both boys talk about things that are stressing them out.

More than anything this is them teaching her more about aftercare and how there is nothing wrong with needing to use a safe word. That no matter what they still love her. That goes for you beautiful souls to! Its ok to use your word if you have one and if your partner gets mad at you for it, like Eleven says, dump their ass!

Word Count: 3779

Something was off. They both seemed out of sorts when they got home from work but you didn’t think anything of it at the time. You just did what you could to make them feel better. Eddie came home first and bypassed you entirely to fall onto his bed. You crawled in beside him and laid your head on his chest as he remained still, not even playing with your hair like he normally did.

Steve soon followed, finding you both and curling up behind you as he threw his arm around your waist; his breathing ragged almost like he was angry. After a while, without saying a word, they tugged off your clothes, and began to use you. That was the best way to describe their desperate touches and rough kisses.

Their vacant eyes rarely met yours as they made you cum repeatedly. You cried at the overstimulation and where they would usually coo and comfort you, this time they were silent.

They were both inside of you thrusting aggressively. You were already extremely sore and knew you would be for the next few days to come.

You thought you could make it to the end and allow them to finish but they made you promise if ever you felt uncomfortable to use the safe word. Eddie’s fingers were gripping your bicep a bit too tightly and Steve’s hand around your throat was starting to cut off your air supply.

You tried to say “red” but it wasn’t coming out loud enough to be heard. Going to plan B, you squeezed your eyes shut as you lifted your palm above you and smacked Eddie’s headboard three times as hard as you could.

They stopped moving, freezing in place, and you tapped at the hand around your neck signaling the concern.

“Shit. Fucking…Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He released his grip and gradually pulled out of you before running out of the room to the kitchen.

Eddie pulled out as well, brushing your hair out of your face as you coughed trying to collect air.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Everything’s ok.”

Steve quickly came back, sinking to his knees by the mattress as he handed you a glass of water.

“Here, honey, drink this. Good girl. What else do you need, baby?”

It was then that you started to bawl and their hearts broke as you hugged your arms around your body. Eddie kept whispering that you were safe as he gently petted your head while Steve covered you with a throw blanket and rubbed your back.

“I’m sorry.”, you whimper as you wipe your eyes with your fist. “I tried. I really did but you both were hurting me.”

“Hey, hey, hey. No reason to be sorry. We’re so proud of you for using the safe word and getting our attention. I know you said it used to be hard for you before, pretty girl.” Steve grinned at you comfortingly as he continued to try and calm you down.

“I-I-I ruined everything.”

“No, princess. You didn’t ruin anything. You feeling safe and comfortable is more important to us than anything else.”

You softly smile at them as you slide to the edge and try to get up but your legs betray you as you fall back down.

“Baby, we got you. Where are you trying to go?”

“Bath. Hurts.”

“Ok, I’m going to carry you. Is that alright?”

You nod as Steve lifts you into his arms and Eddie runs ahead to get your bath started in your bathroom since your tub is bigger (and cleaner) than his. The boy continues to hold you in his arms until everything is in place before gently lowering you into the water.

Your eyes shift towards them before quickly looking away as your bottom lip quivers.

“Talk to us, princess. What do you need?”

“Sit with me… hold me…hurting.”

They climb in without hesitation and promptly collect you in their arms. It was always slightly amusing for them to see how you behaved in this headspace. Eddie had only ever really dealt with brats who threw tantrums. You were far from a brat and due to your history with your exes, you seemed to close into yourself and close off. That was hard for them because they needed you to be vocal and tell them what you needed so they could help make you feel better.

They never wanted to push you this far and they knew they fucked up.

Eddie pressed your head to his chest while Steve laid his own on your shoulder. You sat with them until the water got cold and even then they didn’t move till you said you were ready. They carefully dried you off before putting some baggy clothes on you and carrying you to the living room.

“Are you hungry, baby? We have some frozen pizza in there I think.” The metalhead sighs when you don’t respond. “How about we make it and then if you’re hungry later at least it will be ready.”

Steve immediately headed for the kitchen and your eyes turn to watch him, noticing his hands shake as he carefully reads the box he’s holding. Eddie pushes some of your hair behind your ear before telling you he’ll be right back and heading towards his friend. They whisper to each other but you just barely make out what they are saying.

“Harrington, you have to calm down. She’s not upset with us but herself. She thinks she did something wrong by using her safe word.”

“Eddie, she couldn’t even say the word because of me. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know and she knows that to but in her headspace right now she doesn’t understand that. She sees you panicking and she thinks it’s because you didn’t get to cum.”, he sighs. “Blame those fucking idiots she dated. I imagine if she didn’t know what aftercare was, if she had used the safe word with any of them they would have just left her there.”

Steve’s fist clenched at the thought but when his gaze shifted to you he noticed you watching them and flashed you a big Harrington smile with a wink. To his relief, you softly smiled in return.

Eddie came back to sit beside you, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv.

“I don’t know what would be on right now but—” Your hand reached out to stop him and his smile grew when you curled up into his side. “’Unsolved Mysteries’. Let’s see who got kidnapped by aliens tonight.”

“Aliens aren’t real, Ed.”, Steve scolded as he came around the corner and flopped down on the couch.

“Pfft. Non-believer.” The longhaired boy rolls his eyes as you grin but he doesn’t miss the slight wince when his fingers run down your arm.

***

By the time the show ended, you had returned to your old self as you giggled at their banter and ate the food they offered.

“Steve, I agree with Eddie there totally is aliens out there but I’m going to need you to make sure if I disappear you search through the human world first! Don’t let him get distracted!”

“Honey, if you went missing I would move heaven and earth to find you.”

That made you genuinely smile as Eddie continued to play with your hair. The other man bounced back beside you, holding an icepack and gestured for your arm.

“Oh, it’s ok. I’m ok.”

“Sweetheart, you’re right. It is ok. Let Stevie see your arm.”

“I don’t want you guys to be sad. You do so much for me…I can…I can take care of it myself.”

“My love, do you remember what we told you after we play rough?”

“But, but—”

“What did we say, Y/N?”

“Aftercare is important afterwards. Not just for me but you guys to. But, Steve, you guys made me cum so many times and neither of you got finish.”

“Princess, that is literally the last thing on our minds right now. All we care about is that you feel safe and that you aren’t in pain. You didn’t do anything wrong by giving us the signal and getting our attention. Can you say that for me?”

“I did nothing wrong by signaling for us to stop.”

“Good girl.”, Eddie kisses your temple. “You still deserve to be taken care of after no matter what, babe. It’s just a little bit different because Steve and I need to see you and hear from you to fully understand so this doesn’t happen again.”

You nodded in understanding as you lifted up your sleeve. “Eddie was holding me to tightly and it hurt.”

The metalhead shifted his body to sit across from you on the coffee table so he could get a better look before Steve covered it with ice. Purple fingerprints were starting to form around your bicep and he could see the little indents from his fingernails digging into your skin.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize.”

You turned a bit and pulled down your collar exposing your throat a bit more. They could both see the imprint of where Steve’s hand had been.

“I couldn’t breathe.”

“I didn’t realize either. Shit…I was so lost in my own head, honey—”

“That bothered me the most. You two were so quiet and your eyes seemed so vacant. Eddie usually you give me a kiss when you come home but you went straight to your bedroom. When we lay together, you play with my hair or touch my skin but neither of you did that. When you kept making me cum and I started to cry, you both soothe me or praise me but you didn’t this this time. It felt…weird like…I was with two different men.”

They both exhaled heavily as they absorbed what you were saying.

“I almost got fired today.” You and Steve sat at attention at his comment. “Someone broke into the record store and stole a bunch of shit but instead of leaving it there they spray painted ‘Freak’ on the wall as well as some satanist symbols, I don’t even know.”, Eddie rolled his eyes. “My boss said this isn’t the kind of attention he wants and he may have to let me go. I had to beg literally almost on my knees for him to keep me on.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry.”, you comforted.

“I hate this fucking town. They’re never going to see me as anything else than fucking trailer trash. I felt so helpless and I took that out on you, sweetheart. I am so fucking sorry.”

“My dad showed up at the video store today and embarrassed me in front of Robin. He said that if I couldn’t get into college then I should come intern with him and learn the trade. Like that asshole would ever hand over his company to me. I’m never going to be good enough for him.”

“You’re good enough for us, Stevie. You’re more than enough.”, you coo as you reach for his hand.

“I took that out on you to, honey. I’m sorry. I needed to feel more in control and… God this fucking kills me.”, he sighs as his fingers trace the skin along your neck. “This is never going to happen again, Y/N. I promise.”

“Me to.”, Eddie follows. “And we are really proud of you for using your safe word and following those steps we put in place.”

“I love you.”

The metalhead climbs back on to the sofa as both boys wrap their arms obnoxiously around you making you giggle.

#################

The next couple of days they continued to look after you making sure you were alright and constantly trying to make up for hurting you. Steve came home one day with flowers while Eddie bought you a cute little silver bracelet he knew you’d love.

That Friday evening when you got off of work, you walked into your apartment met with dimmed lights and candles lit on the table.

“Um, what is happening?”, you smile as you walk towards the counter that has a note with your name on it.

“Baby Girl,

In your room is present #1 of the evening. Go put it on, beautiful.

We love you.

-Eddie X Steve”

You blush as you run excitedly towards your bedroom to find a flat box with a bow on top. Gasping when you pull it open, you hold up the gorgeous red dress with matching flats and spin around giddily as you quickly put it on.

While you’re a adjusting your make up in the bathroom, a clearing throat grabs your attention.

“Oh wow.”, you grin as your eyes fall upon Eddie in a suit. “You look handsome.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m not as good looking as you though.” The metalhead extends his elbow and you gladly loop your arm through his as he leads you back out into the living room where an equally well-dressed Steve was waiting.

“Oh, baby, you look amazing.”, you coo as he grins in your direction.

“Me? That dress looked gorgeous in the store but it looks even better on you.”

He comes around to kiss your cheek before guiding you to your table that was fancied up with a white tablecloth. Beaming over at them, you watched as they moved about the kitchen, whispering to each other, and finally coming back to you with a plate of delicious looking food.

“Did you guys make this?”

“Princess, the apartment is still standing and isn’t on fire so no.”, Eddie chuckled. “We ordered it from your favorite place but instead of eating out of Styrofoam we upped the ante by putting it on plates.”

You giggled when he winked at you and patiently waited for them to take a seat so you could eat together.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this but may I ask why?”

“We just…we love you and we wanted to show you how much we appreciate you.”, Steve smiles as he reaches for your hand.

“We also wanted to show you how proud we are of you. We know you’ve been through a lot, Y/N but you’ve come so far in being more open with us and you’ve even shown us some things as well. Like Harrington said, we love you…so much.”

“I love you to.”

The three of you continued to talk as you ate your meal. Eddie said he was able to smooth things over with his boss and stayed behind a few extra hours to help get his store back in order. Steve told his dad to politely fuck off and asked Robin to help him search for some career options that would work best for him. You were always so proud of them, never caring what they did for a living but just wanted them to be happy.

“Thank you so much for dinner. It was really good.”, you beam at them as they clear the table and start cleaning up the area.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, honey. We were thinking once we get everything put away here, maybe, we could watch a movie or something.”

“Baby, we got all dressed up, you went all out on dinner, and now you just want to sit down and watch a movie?”

“Oh, um, I mean did you want to go somewhere, sweetheart?”

Leaning over the counter, you look up at them with big doe eyes.

“My bedroom…or the couch…Hell, even the counter here. I don’t care.”, you giggle.

“How are you feeling?”, Steve asks as his eyes shift towards your neck. The bruises had long since faded but you could tell he could still see them almost as if that image would never go away.

“Horny it seems.”, Eddie laughs making you smile.

Coming around to their side, the metalhead lifts you onto the island and you reach for the other boy, clasping your arms around his neck.

“I’m feeling much better, Daddy. I promise. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for what happened. You both took such good care of me. Please, let me take care of you.”

As you bring his lips to yours, his palms slide down to the small of your back and pull you towards the edge closer to his waist. A whimper escapes your throat as the growing bulge in his pants steadily grinds against your uncovered core; the fabric of his slacks rubbing just enough on your clit to have you opening your legs wider to allow him more access.

“Does that feel good, baby girl? Fuck. I can feel you soaking through my pants.”

“Y-You should take them off then.”, you breathily laugh as he rests his forehead on yours, smiling at your neediness. “Please, Daddy. I want you so bad.”

A low growl emits from Steve’s throat as he quickly fumbles with his belt buckle and frees his leaking cock from its confinement. Your mouth falls open as you both watch him guide his length into you entrance and your hands cup his face as your legs wrap around his waist.

“Yes, baby. You feel so good.”, you moan as your fingers unbutton the top half of his shirt so your hands can roam his chest, making him mewl as his head falls into your neck and he thrusts into you at a bit faster.

Eddie’s own fingers come from the side and delicately move your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so beautiful, princess. I like watching your face when we’re fucking you. I love that you’re ours.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you hugged Steve tighter to your body.

“Don’t—mmm—don’t worry about me tonight. I want you both to cum.”

Freezing completely, the man in your arms tilted back so his gaze could meet yours.

“Honey, what do you think helps get us there? We like making you fall apart.”

“That’s an understatement.”, Eddie adds making Steve chuckle.

“It fucking drives me crazy feeling your soft hands and nails drag along my skin.”, he whispers, gradually pumping into you again as his palms cling to your hips. “Those tiny whimpers you make when I hit that spot inside of you right there.”

Between his last couple of words, he thrust into you roughly making your toes curl against him.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Cum for me. Cum for Daddy.”

Going back his original rhythm, you nuzzled your face into his shoulder, muffling your moans as you did what he asked.

“Fuck, Y/N. The way your pussy grips me when you cum.” Placing his hand on the back of your head and his other arm wrapped around your back, he presses you to him while chasing his high. Steve’s heavy pants warm your ear and both of you groan as he fills you up.

Releasing you from his hold, he leans back to tenderly kiss your lips before backing away so Eddie could take his place. After light heartedly giggling through his teeth, he grabs a napkin off the counter and dabs at your forehead.

“So sweaty.”

“Aren’t you about to make me sweatier?”, you tease.

Grinning, he takes you in his arms and carries you into the living room where he playfully tosses you down on the sofa where he lifts off your dress.

“Wait.”, you plead as he began unbuttoning his shirt. “Leave it on like he did. It’s…kind of hot…makes me feel…small. In a good way!”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

As he takes a seat on the couch, he pulls down his pants and boxers enough to free his cock before motioning for you to come sit on his lap. After positioning you with your back against his chest and placing your legs on either side of his own, Eddie takes hold of his length as you lift your hips slightly and slide down onto him.

“Oh my god.”

“Atta girl, princess. Fuck. So fucking wet and warm.”, he murmurs in your ear as your head leans against his shoulder.

Ring lined fingers dig into your thighs as your roll your lower body slowly, enjoying the feeling of his cock stretching your walls and rubbing your g-spot just so.

“Ride my dick, sweetheart. Make yourself cum.”

Tilting forward, you balance your hands on his knees as you bounce on his lap.

“Yes. You feel so good, Sir.”

“You know, Y/N, I love watching you come undone to. The way your body moves and trembles. The way you moan my name or title. How your pussy trenches my cock. Shit, baby.”

Tugging your hair, he yanks you against him again as he brings his fingers around to massage your clit.

“FUCK! Please, Sir, please.”, you beg.

As your orgasm washes over you, his digits move faster as he roughly thrusts up into you to elongate your high. Falling limply against him, Eddie holds you to him until his rhythm starts to falter and you feel his spend warm your insides.

While he tries to catch his breath, your lips lazily trail along his jaw line till he turns to meet your mouth with his own.

Lost in your bliss, you allow them to carry you to your bathroom and take care of you. As you stood in the shower your arms remained around them as they cleaned you and placed soft kisses along your skin.

“Thank you for always listening and taking care of me. Even before we got together you guys have always been good friends to me.”

After changing your clothes and placing you under the covers in your bed, they climb in on either side of you and take you in their arms.

“You’re welcome. I don’t know about Stevie but I wish I had told you earlier how I felt about you…could have saved you from a lot of heartache.”, Eddie sighs.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t like me the same way and I’d lose you. That’s why I never said anything but, yeah, I wish I had said something sooner. I remember once you told us you thought you didn’t deserve to be happy and that just killed me. I thought ‘we could make her happy.’”

“You do…both of you…you always have. I know we can’t go back in time but I have you now and that’s all I care about. For the past view months, I’ve actually felt the safest I’ve ever been. Not just physically but mentally and emotionally. I can be open with your guys about anything and I know you still love me. I hope you know you can do that same with me. I’m always here for you no matter what.”

##############

@goth-cowgirl-03

Series here

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thetinyadventurer · 3 months ago

Note

"Let's go home."

It's Milo outside, shivering and soaking wet, and looking absolutely miserable, like the whole world has taken turns kicking him, and then doing it againonce he's down. Like he might cry if he isn't already doing so. His glasses are set crooked, so he probably is barely able to see, and thus, he probably doesn't know where he is.

“Oh, my god, Milo!”

I sprint outside so quickly that I don’t even bother putting on my boots. All I’ve got in hand is an umbrella which I struggle to open as I shuffle down the street.

“Milo!” I call out as I run up to him, managing to open the umbrella just in time.

I raise the umbrella up above his head, shielding him from the rain. I have to stand on my tiptoes as I reach up and remove his glasses. I haphazardly use the hem of my shirt to clean off his glasses before gently placing them back on his face. I get how hard it is to see with water-logged glasses as I wear glasses, myself. I don’t even think twice before I grab Milo’s shaking hand.

“Let’s go home.” I murmur, softly as I pull him towards my apartment building, keeping the umbrella above our heads. I squeeze his hand gently for good measure. I know how it feels to be alone and miserable. Milo’s such a sweet, kind-hearted soul and even though I can’t carry his problems for him, I can damn well make them lighter! He would have done the same for me, after all.

I guide him up the stairs and into my apartment building. It’s small for an apartment in Washington DC in the early 1900’s but I do my best to make it feel welcoming. The ivory walls are tinted amber from the lamp-light and the crackling fireplace gives off much needed warmth.

I pull Milo into the bathroom and gesture for him to sit on the edge of the tub.

“I’ll be right back.” I say as I sprint into my bedroom where I rummage through the dresser until I find what I’m looking for: A cozy pair of pajamas, a big, fluffy towel and a pair of socks that an ex of mine forgot to reclaim after we broke up. They’re big enough that they should fit him. I hurry back to the bathroom and gently place the clothes and towel on the edge of the sink.

“These might be a little big on you but they’re better than nothing.” I comment before turning back to him, looking him in the eyes.

I reach out and gently squeeze his shoulder— A simple gesture to reassure him that I’m there for him and that he’s not alone, anymore.

“Take a bath to warm yourself up.” I instruct. “You can put your wet clothes in the sink and I’ll hang them up to dry. Don’t worry about the water, I can clean it up later. There’s some bubble bath here if you like scented things and a rubber ducky to keep you company. His name is George. Feel free to take as much time as you need, okay? When you’re done, dry off and put on these pajamas. Then meet me in the living room. I’ll make us some hot chocolate with extra marshmallows!”

I give him a brief but tight hug. “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to but please know that I’m here for you if you need me. If you need to cry then cry, I won’t judge. If you need to vent to me, I’ll listen. As for advice, well, I’m a shitty advice-giver but I’ll do the best I can to help out. Just do whatever you need to do to feel better, okay?”

I stand up and walk towards the door. “I’ll give you some privacy. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

I give him one last smile before shutting the door behind me. I crack my knuckles.

“Okay, time to make some hot chocolate and chicken noodle soup!” I announce to the empty air.

Milo can take all the time he needs to recover. As long as he’s happy and doesn’t catch a cold, I’ll do whatever it takes to help him out. And if I find out who made him cry I’m calling my neighbor, Helga Sinclair, to go kick their asses.

//Sorry that was so long! Thank you for the first ask. Not sure how I did but I hope you like it!//

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pseudowho · 1 year ago

Text

The Accumulation of Little Despairs

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Pure Nanami Kento fluff, written as per request for @nn-hh192 who is needing a bit of love.

As the Reader struggles with low mood, Nanami is on hand with the perfect words and the perfect date.

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Nanami Kento understood how depression could build slowly. At his least resilient, every small insult to his stability of mind was placed on his shoulders like a rock. Before he knew it, he was a broken man.

He watched this accumulation of despairs in you as the winter rolled in. Struggling to make it out of bed in the dark mornings, you missed your train. You had a needless argument with a co-worker. You saw tales of war and genocide, thousands of miles away, and felt so helpless. Your clothes didn't fit the way they used to. You noticed more and more people, homeless and cold on the streets, and there was not enough of you to help.

As you started to see your world through a grey filter, Kento did all he could to love you, to take the pressure off you. You were barely lifting a finger at home, but not needing to because Kento had it all in hand. He tried to talk to you, to encourage you to open up to him, but you were too numbed to engage. He watched as the fiercely independent you, became tired and listless, and it broke his heart.

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You woke, bleary-eyed, to warm kisses on your temple, and the mattress shifting beside you. You smelled Kento's warm morning smell, and buttery pastries and coffee. Nosing your way over to Kento under the covers, he chuckled as your hand reached out, patting around for food.

"We're going out today," he said, sipping his coffee as you groaned, "and you're in no way obliged to smile about it. But I think we'll have a good day."

You groaned again, a noise of pure disagreement. Giving you an affectionate squeeze through the duvet, Kento remained quietly present while you ate and drank.

"Where are we going? Can it wait?" you wheedled. Going out would mean getting dressed and pretending to be fine. You were sure you didn't have it in you.

"It's a surprise," Kento reassured smoothly, patting your bum as you scooted to the bathroom. Soaking in a hot bath, you psyched yourself up for pretending to be enjoying yourself.

Kento was a quiet flurry of activity, you heard outside the bathroom door. He slid soon after into the bathroom, looking everything but his usual neat and trimmed self. He hadn't shaved, dark blond shadows adorning his handsome face. His hair was soft and floppy, unstyled. He wore his oldest black jeans and jumper, comfy boots, and a big black wool overcoat. Puzzled, you raised an eyebrow at him as he held out a towel for you.

"Come on. Time to go." You wrapped yourself up, going to get dressed, the pressure of looking your best significantly lessened by your lover looking so...sloppy. Opting to match his dour palette, you were soon wrapped up, make-up free, warm, and he gripped your hand, pulling you out the door with no arguments.

Kento had set the engine running, warming the car up in advance and you sighed as you climbed in, glasses steaming up, nose red from the cold. You realised with a jolt, seeing the car clock, that it was already early afternoon.

"You left me in bed so long," you chastised Kento softly. He hummed, taking your cold little hands in his and pressing them gently to the warm air vents.

"You seemed to need it. Besides, where we're going, it's more fun when the sun's going down." Car sliding back out of the driveway, Kento's arm stretched round the back of your seat, you blushed, still having such a crush on him despite being together for years. As he drove, he put on a playlist he seemed to have made to match your mood perfectly. A warm coffee cup was pressed into your hands. Your eyes pricked with tears, feeling ungrateful that despite all his best efforts, you still did not feel happy.

Reading you so easily, Kento squeezed your hand, bringing it onto his thigh, stroking your palm. He kept his eyes on the road as he spoke to you, "I'm not under the impression that one lovely day out is going to make all of this go away for you, so don't feel pressured into being cured. I just think you deserve this. I want you and your company even when you're not feeling your best." He reached over, wiping a few small tears from your cheeks as you sniffled, handing you a handkerchief. You laughed, tickled that your love was absolutely the kind of man to carry handkerchiefs.

You parked, walking arm in arm through the cold, boots crunching on old snow, to a busy covered market. Sizzles, shouts, and the delicious smell of street food poured out to you. Nobody was well-dressed. The food looked invitingly homely. Despite your recent breakfast, your stomach rumbled.

Kento surveyed the food stalls, rapping your hand in his against his thigh as he hummed. "I was thinking...a bit of everything.". You laughed, not realising how completely serious he was when he visited a dozen food stalls, one after the other. By the time you had found a table, your arms were laden with food trays and you shared a long meal, talking about everything and nothing, at points stretching out minutes of comfortable silence as you people-watched in each other's company. Full to bursting, Kento warmed considerably, seeing small smiles start to grace your lips, enjoying your eyes twinkling as you teased him. He'd take every tease you gave to see you smile again.

"Ready?" Kento pressed, hand out to you, fingers wiggling.

"For what?"

Kento shook his pocketed hand, which was heavy with jangling change. "Arcades," he whispered, unusually excited, "We used to go all the time at school, but I haven't been since..." he tailed off and you squeezed his hand, knowing that losing Yuu had cut Kento's childhood abruptly to an end. Clapping your hands together, you stood.

"Come on then. You can kill Curses, but how good are you at dancing?"

Kento groaned, feigning reluctance as you dragged him through the backstreets until you reached the sprawling neon lights of a huge arcade, buzzing with teenagers. The sun was going down, your nose pink with cold and excitement; you gazed at the lights, the claw machines, the ra-ta-ta-ta of arcade guns, feeling your heart swell with childish joy. Kento's heart swelled too, eyes soft as he drank in your profile, arcade lights dancing across your glasses lens.

"Can you win me something?" you wheedled to Kento, pressing your hands from one claw machine to the next as you tried to decide which plushie was the cutest.

"Not yet. How do you expect to beat me at Resident Evil if your hands are full?"

You and Kento spent hours playing games, going through multiple pockets of change. You took several shocking first-person shooting game wins, Kento taking his revenge by being a dark-horse on the dance machines, small crowds of teenagers gathering to egg you both on as you became more chaotic together, more sloppy, tapping your feet on each other's pads as you tried to cheat wins from each other. Tears of laughter shone in your eyes as Kento became increasingly frustrated with the janky mechanics of the driving games, so you pulled him away to the claw machines.

Kento felt his manliness on the line, unashamedly competitive as he won you two delightful plushies. Completely sated, you felt your social battery running low. Pulling you close to him with one arm as you walked out of the arcades, Kento rattled his pocket one last time.

"Room for a doughnut?"

"Always. Extra tummy for dessert."

Finding a fresh doughnut stall on your way back to the car, you picked for Kento (a simple glazed ring) and he picked for you (a sweet pink heart, oozing with raspberry jam). Your drive home was warm, smooth, full of comfortable silence. You felt your eyes drift shut, eyelids occasionally glowing with orange as streetlights rolled in and out beyond your vision.

When you arrived home, kicking off your boots together, Kento held your shoulders for a moment, keeping you in the hallway. "Wait here," he urged, "it'll take a few minutes to warm up." Answering your questioning look with a sweet kiss to your forehead, you stripped out of your snowy coat as you heard Kento rattle about in the living room and kitchen.

Taking you by both hands, Kento walked you into the living room.

"A...kotatsu?" The heated table, plush with blankets, sat adorned with two steaming bowls of instant ramen. Pillows piled at the end opposite the television created a mini fort for you to curl up in, a selection of your favourite childhood movies stacked beside the sofa, ready for choosing.

Sniffling with gratitude again, you and Kento slipped into pyjamas, and you sighed with delight as your feet slipped under the heat of the table. Eyeing the love Kento had poured into this, you grasped his cheeks, pulling him in firmly for a kiss, scattering dozens of tiny kisses over his cheeks and eyes.

"Thank you," you pressed. Kento huffed.

"This is the bare minimum you deserve, I promise. Wait until I really get going."

Warm and safe, you realised, snug in Kento's arms, you'd never again have to weather your bad days alone.

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milkbobatyun · 4 days ago

Text

perfect, but not for me

pairing: dr ratio x reader

genre: angst

summary: they saw the two of you as perfect. you both were, but the aeons did not make you for each other

word count: 1k

a/n: inspired by the hozier song 'too sweet', i highly recommend you listen to it while reading this! the only reason why i haven't posted in ages is cus it's exam season for me right now, and i've got pretty important ones that will determine my future so im putting that as priority for now!

in the eyes of the scholars at the intelligentsia guild, you and veritas ratio were the perfect couple. your love story was one out of a romance storybook, childhood love, who were polar opposites, the epitome of sunshine and grumpy. they didn’t see how the honeymoon period was waning, how you were struggling to keep up the happy façade.

you saw the world through rose-tinted glasses, your head always lost in the clouds. you were a dreamer, enjoying life to its fullest. yet, veritas ratio was different. he saw the world in its black and white, ugly, organic form. he stepped through life with a logical mind, silently analysing every glance and gesture, as though looking at an equation only his practised eyes could see.

you loved staying up late at night, relishing in the faint glow of warmth from your lamp, illuminating your desk as your mind wandered, drawing ideas from the world around you. some days, you stayed up till the dark, bejewelled night gave way to milky dawns, some nights you slept early. your life was a combination of sporadic bursts of energy.

veritas valued order and routine over everything else. you could recite his schedule off the top of your head: an hour-long bath after work, evenings spent huddled at his desk, grading papers, a helping hand at dinner before he curls up in a nearby chair, nose buried in his book. all this was executed with clockwork precision. once the clock hit 9, veritas would turn to bed, his alarm forever set up for an early awakening.

you loved to douse your coffee in sugar and milk, while veritas could feel the tooth-ache just from watching you spoon the white powder into your milky coffee. he often joked that normal people had coffee with a splash of milk, while you had milk with a splash of coffee.

unlike you, he drank his coffee black, with no add-ins and a straight face. yours scrunched up with displeasure as you imagined the bitter liquid running down your throat.

despite your differences, you still had similarities. the two of you were stupidly devoted to your work.

you savoured any moment you had to sketch, a notebook and pencil never leaving your hands. new ideas flowed from your fingertips. your mind was a never-ending fountain of imagination. there was never a day when the other scholars saw you without a pencil stuck behind your ear or glued to the paper you always carried.

on the other hand, veritas was practically married to mathematics. he held a strong passion for teaching the arithmetic subject, nose always buried in a book, his mind busy gnawing away at a new maths problem.

even with your similarities, there were times in your relationship when you struggled living with and loving such a logical man.

when the nights were sleepy, the quiet seemed to hang, like a thick blanket over the two of you, only broken by the swish of pages turning. you doodled a new design for his plaster head absentmindedly in your notebook. your hands itched to show him, but you could guess his answer: a small, polite smile and nod. he would mutter some surface level praise, before turning back to his book.

before, his quiet praise and small, rare smile made your breath hitch and your face flame. now, it left you feeling desolate and hopeless, like an artist staring at their piece, trying to work out what went wrong.

“why don’t you ever clean up?” veritas’ voice broke through the quiet ambience of the house, his gaze fixated on the papers, piled haphazardly upon your desk, sketches and prototypes littering the floor. his brows were furrowed with distaste, hands pinching at his nose bridge in exasperation.

“i do,” you protested, though guilt and shame was evident on your face. “it’s just…i get inspiration.” you meekly finished.

veritas’ sigh of disappointment made your stomach drop and your heart clench. “no wonder you never get anything done.” veritas’ voice was clipped, “chaos doesn’t ever breed results.”

lately, the air in the house felt stifling, choking the life out of your lives. around the reviered dr ratio, you felt like you were walking on eggshells. everything he said pushed a button in you, and everything you did seemed to piss him off.

he supressed the urge to snap at you every time another prototype found its way into his slipper, while you swallowed back every sharp retort on your tongue. he didn’t understand you. inspiration wasn’t orderly, it was messy, bursts of energy—unpredictable and fleeting.

every word he spoke, no matter how well-meaning, felt like an attack. veritas really had a way with words. it wasn’t what he said, but the disappointment and annoyance that subtly laced his words, their sharpness striking deep into every weakness. you tried to understand his logic, but it was like trying to touch the clouds. you could see it, but no matter how far you tried to stretch, it slipped through your fingers, dancing just out of reach before dissolving into a mystery you would never be able to unravel.

it truly amazed the both of you how long it took for you to realise that this wasn’t going to work. you were simply too different from each other. holding onto this relationship was like trying to jam two pieces of a puzzle together, even when they didn’t fit. the more you tried to make the fit, the more the edges frayed, the corners becoming worn down. the picture blurred, its picturesque scene warped into an unrecognisable smear of colour.

you were as wonderful as an angel sent from heaven, soaring with your head in the clouds, and he was as perfect as a greek statue, steadfast and steady. perfection in your own ways but so different from each other. soft features were not enough to bend marble, no matter how tightly you held on. love, as powerful as it was, could only go so far.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

#dr ratio #dr ratio hsr #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio #dr ratio x you #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio angst #dr ratio comfort #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr angst #honkai star rail angst #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #angst #angst oneshot

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gardens-light · 1 year ago

Text

Undercover

In order to find something worthy of blackmailing not just the K.S.I but also the government. All agreed on a simple plan. Divide and conquer. Knowing the next moment's were critical, as it was going to test the bonds of loyalty and trust... Yet, in the midst of chaos and serious planning. Bumblebee and Drift decided do a side mission of their own- involving you and Optimus...

Content: Course language. Events takes place in Transformers- Age of Extinction. (Major spoilers in this and in upcoming chapters.) Heaps of fluff. Optimus Prime x Human F/Reader.

Word count- 5k (roughly)

Sparkmate Series- Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

"We're back!" Tessa's voice echoed throughout the main hall of the empty cathedral.

Bumblebee gave a little wave, while your attention didn't move from his thigh. Focusing on adjusting a couple of bolts, that the yellow scout has been complaining about for the past couple days.

"Hey." Cade greeted from the makeshift table. "I found a whole bunch of boxes of clothes. So Tessa, sweetie. You can find some long pants. Nice loose-fitting ones, and lose the short-shorts, okay? What you guys get?"

Tessa and Shane emptied their backpacks onto the table. Various fruits, long life items and random tools spilled in front of Cade.

"It's protein." Tessa simply said, placing the container in front of him.

"Look, I said the essentials, okay?"

"It wasn't easy." Tessa sighed, "we almost got caught."

Cade raised an eyebrow, as Shane placed a bottle of mouthwash onto the table. "You stole mouthwash?"

"I like to be fresh, when I'm making out with your daughter." Shane spoke with a smug smile.

Tessa chuckled, while you and Bumblebee looked away. Trying to hide your cheeky smiles, as the pair of you giggled under your breathes.

Cade's brows knitted together, reaching out for the bottle and throwing it across the table. "Yeah that's not happening. Ever!"

Tessa and Shane gave each other awkward smiles.

"A little bit late for that." Your teasing tone whispered to Bumblebee.

---

Walking into the main hall of the cathedral with laptop in hand. The sound of small giggles caught your attention, your movements coming to a halt as your eyes looked away from the screen. Your soft gaze falling onto Tessa and Shane whom cuddled in their little ‘love nest’ corner. Her head resting against Shane’s chest as they sprawled out on the couch, the gentle glow of the dusk sunlight bathing them in a soft colourful glow, as it streamed through the stained-glass window. Numerous candles surrounding them setting the scene just right.

A small smile tugged the corners of your lips, I’m glad they’ve found some calm before the storm.

“Ah-hem. Excuse me.” Cade’s voice echoed throughout the hall, “there’ll be no smooching in front of me. Thank you.”

Speaking of storms...

The couple broke apart, feeling Cade’s disapproval stare upon them.

“You’re so old, Dad.” Tessa complained, “who even saids ‘smooching’ anyway?”

A small prickle of envy crawled in your chest, as you hugged the laptop. Lowering your head a little, attempting to hide your suttle frown.

“It can be so difficult sometimes.” Cade sighed, while drinking a protein shake. His annoyed stare looking up at Optimus, “I’m telling ya. No respect these days.”

Optimus nodded folding his arms across his chest, “I went through something similar with Bumblebee.”

The small prickle of envy snipped your yearning heart, like a flower's thorn upon your skin. Bringing the laptop a little closer to your face, as your cheeks grew a little warm. As the ‘almost kiss’ between you and Optimus replayed in your thoughts.

“Afternoon, Y/N” the sound of Crosshairs' voice caused you to jump a little.

“Cr-Crosshairs? Sorry, you startled me.”

“Really?” you felt his green optics study you. “Something on your mind?”

“Just... running through the plans.” You spoke with a fake smile, “making sure everyone knows the drill, and what not.”

You raised an eyebrow as Crosshairs briefly turned to Drift. Glancing over his shoulder at the blue Autobot, whom gestured in your direction, then to a set of stone stairs.

“Is everything alright, Crosshairs?” your puzzled tone caught his attention.

“Yea. Yea.” he assured with a teasing smile, “just remembered that the Big Boss wants to see you.”

You tilted your head a little. Pressing the laptop harder against your chest, as your heart skipped a little.

“Optimus?...” your voice was low, trying not to sound too surprised.

“Yeah. He said it was something important, or whatever.”

Your confused gaze switched between Optimus, whom still muttered something to Cade, and back to Crosshairs who just stood beside you. Fidgeting around his pistol.

“Ok... well um... I guess I should head over to him-”

A small yelp escaped your lips as he quickly got in your way.

“No! No!” his whisper-shout came out a little louder than intended. “I-I mean...”

Crosshairs gestured you to come a little closer, as he squatted down to your level.

“Crosshairs, what’s going on?”

The Autobot sighed, as his optics fell onto your unamused and confused expression. “Look... I don’t know what the Big Boss wants to discuss with you. Honestly he was very vague about it-”

“Optimus is rarely vague about anything-”

“My thoughts exactly. So I’m assuming it’s something important but also private.”

Crosshairs attempted to hold a convincing smile, as your eyes studied his features.

“Okay...” raising an eyebrow again. Your expression matching your unsure tone, “where do you think he’d would wanna talk?”

“My best guess would be the tower behind you.”

You briefly followed his gesture, pointing at the stone stairs behind you.

Crosshairs shrugged at your silent question. Your eyes studied him one more time, before hesitantly approaching the stairs.

“Well, you almost fucked that up.”

Crosshairs glanced up at Hound, giving the Autobot daggers as he came out of hiding, once assured you were out of earshot.

“Shut up.” Crosshairs hissed, standing to his full height. “I told you, I’m not good at this mushy stuff. If you’d ask me, I think this whole plan is pathetic.”

“¬ you can’t handle the truth!¬” Bumblebee buzzed. His blue optics narrowing at his comrade.

“Autobots?”

All froze as the sound of Optimus’ voice interrupted them.

“What’s going on?”

“¬Y/N wants¬ to see you¬ outside¬ Sir.”

Optimus’ titled his head to the side, his optics giving Bumblebee a questioning gaze. “Why?”

All speechlessly shrugged. But a annoyed whirl wheezed out of Bee, rolling his blue optics at his comrades, while impatiently grabbing Optimus’ servo.

“Bumblebee? What?-”

“¬Outside!¬” Bee simply repeated. Pulling his leader towards the large arch, which lead towards one of the cathedral’s courtyards.

Optimus looked over his shoulder, giving a confused expression to the rest of the Autobots. Drift looked away, trying to hide his knowing smile. While Crosshairs and Hound simply sighed and walked away.

---

Approaching the small stone balcony, a gasp left your breath as your wide eyes fell upon the most curious of sight.

A mixture of fairy lights and string lights lit up the courtyard below. Hanging upon trees and their overhanging branches, dancing up the stone pillars which held the dome roof of a small gazebo. Delicate white lanterns lit by candlelight, was suspended above the gazebo. Their strings stretching from the balcony’s stone frame, to the nearby fence.

Roughly potted flowers lined the courtyard’s flowerbeds, matching the drooping flowers in the large stone pots upon the balcony. A small chuckle escaping you, as your eyes fell upon a bench. Clearly from inside the cathedral, but broken down to fit upon the balcony’s edge. Dressed in loosely thrown flower petals, as it rested against the iron railings of the balcony.

This is by far, better than Tessa’s love nest.

Placing a hand over your mouth, attempting to hide your shy smile. As the sight of Bumblebee dragging Optimus by his servo came to you.

The prime muttered something to the yellow scout, but Bumblebee only shook his head. Optimus’ optics tried to avoid your soft gaze, as Bee turned and went behind him. Giving the leader one final push against his back, before scuttering away.

“This is... unexpected.”

Your sweet tone caught his attention. Optimus’ shy gaze slowly left the floor and onto your blushing face.

“As it is for me.” He spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “A thousand apologies, Y/N. This isn’t- I-I mean, it isn’t my intention-”

“It’s alright, Optimus.” you assured.

Your warm smile made his spark skip a beat. A gentle hue of warmth returning to underneath his metal plates.

“It’s makes a lovely change from seeing graffitied walls and boarded up windows.”

Optimus returned your warm smile, “indeed it does...”

You clutched onto the laptop tightly, holding it against your chest. As though it would somehow stop the rapid beating of your heart. Warmth came to your cheeks, as you shyly looked away from him.

His scanners picked up your pulsing heart and shaky breath.

Say something! His processors commanded. Anything!

“The laptop in your hands? I um... do not remember you having it before.”

Idiot!

“Um... yeah.” You begun to fiddle with it. “I found it in the station back in Texas. I’ve been going over the plans for tomorrow.”

Optimus nodded, “familiarizing oneself of the strategies and plans, is highly wise. That way you’d most certainly be prepared for anything.”

You awkwardly nodded. Your foot slowly tracing invisible circles upon the balcony floor.

I am going to whack Crosshairs with a wench next time I see him! Your thoughts scolded.

Optimus’ digits became fidgety. His servos clenching and unclenching, as he shifted his weight from one pedal to the other. Edging a little closer to the balcony which came to his chest plate.

His optics widening a little, as you prepared to turn away from him.

Please don’t leave...

“I-I would like to hear the plan.” his voice spat out.

You gazed back at him with a raised eyebrow.

Optimus cleared his throat, “please... I would appreciate if you’d ran a few details by me again.”

“Sure... of course.”

---

A sad whirl wheezed out of Bumblebee, lightly slapping the palm of his servo against his face plate. As him and Tessa moved away from the closed balcony doors.

“I agree.” She muttered, “it is painful.”

Her eyes watched as the yellow scout slouched against the bricked wall. A warm smile tugging at her lips, as Bee’s optics gazed down at his peds.

“Hey. We can still help move things along.”

Bee perked up at her cheerful tone. His hopeful gaze returning to her.

“I’m pretty sure I saw a basketball downstairs-”

“And I saw~ broken bits~ of mirror!” the Autobot buzzed.

“Perfect!”

---

“And with that, we should be straight in, straight out.”

You looked up at Optimus with a soft smile. His gentle expression smiling back, as the redness of your cheeks never faded. His optics finding difficulty to look away for your soft lips.

His spark tried to drive his body towards temptation, while his processors teased him with the ‘almost kiss’ back at the station.

“I cannot help...” Optimus spoke, requiring more focus upon his words than usual. “I cannot help but be concerned for your safety. As if anything were to happen...”

His sentence trailed off into silence, as his optics slightly widened at the sight of you reaching out to him. The cooling fans within his vents working overtime, as the Autobot tried to regulate his climbing body temperature. Your cool, soft touch sent volts of electricity through him, as your fingertips lightly brushed the back of his servo. Not knowing that you made his Spark yearn for you even more.

“You shouldn’t be worried about me. I can take care of myself.”

Your voice sounded like a sirens song, to Optimus’ audio receivers.

“Perhaps something like this would ease your mind.”

Butterflies tangled your nerves, as they fluttered in your stomach. Your heart skipping a beat, as the bazaar idea came to you. Your cheeks radiating similar warmth to Optimus, as you felt his gentle yet lingering gaze. Concentrating on each breath you took, as his optics memorized every detail of your body. How your hair subtlety moved in the cool night air, how your clothes loosely hugged your figure. Yet also leaving each curve of your hips and thighs to one’s imagination.

“Here.” you shyly spoke.

Taking off the ring upon your finger, and placing it into the palm of his servo. Optimus briefly studied the simple iron band, before returning his gaze to you. Your sweet smile making his breath get stuck in his throat.

“It’s my ‘Lucky Ring’- stupid I know. But it was the first thing I ever forged with my Dad, it’s... not perfect. But I feel like it’s brought me a lot of luck, so I was thinking... perhaps... you could have it.”

Optimus gulped, “Y/N... I-I can’t-” placing his free servo over his aching Spark.

You slowly skootched over to him, closing the gap between you.

“Please, I want you to have it.” You carefully guided his digits to enclose around the ring. The small item simply getting lost in his closed fist.

“So whenever you see it, you’d think of me. And that as long as you carry this, a part of me will always be safe with you.”

Optimus caved in to his body’s temptations. His servo leaving his chest, and quickly wrapping around your waist, gently pulling you closer.

“I do not require an item to think of you. For you are always running through my processors.”

The blush across your features spread towards your ears, your face never felt so warm. As the wires within the Autobot’s abdomen crossed and entangled themselves. His Spark’s rhythm matching your pulsing heart.

Optimus’ servo gently retracted from your waist, allowing his index digit to trace your curves before holding it out in front of you.

Your starstruck gaze trailed down from his loving optics, a breathless gap escaping your lips, as the metal plates around his wrist shifted. Thin cables slithered out like snakes, as he brought your iron ring towards them. Immediately threading themselves through the band, securing it tightly against his metal plates, only allowing the ring to dangle a little.

Placing a hand over your silent gasp, as Optimus opened his chest plates. Reveling his pulsing energy core, blue sparks zapped away from his Spark. His hopeful optics watched his core glow brightly in your eyes, his chest raising and falling, while his vents worked overtime.

This... vulnerable feeling? His processors questioned. Is this how it feels to find... a Sparkmate?

Your eyes widened as a glowing shard left his chest, it center glowed slightly dimmer than his Spark.

“This is the Great Matrix of Leadership.” Optimus explained, as the ‘S’-shape shard dance and hovered in the palm of his servo. “It’s the only thing in this universe that can revive the Spark of a Cybertronian.”

“Optimus... it’s beautiful.”

The Matrix rapidly spun in his palm, a blue flash bursting from it’s center, as it shrunk to the size of a small pendant. Optimus gently threaded thin copper wires, which braided themselves together, through the tip of The Matrix

Your heart jumped into your throat, as Optimus guided the necklace towards you.

“It is my gift to you. So a piece of me is always with you-”

“O-Optimus?-”

“It will protect you from any harm. And if should anything ever happen to me, you’d be the one to ignite my Spark. For it’s you, who makes it pulse through my wires.”

While the familiar sensation of a loving bond enveloped the pair of you. His knuckles caressed your cheek, as he gently placed The Matrix necklace around your neck.

“Y/N... believe me, this is not something I do, nor say lightly." Optimus gently admitted, "I can’t give you normality, or anything a regular human could offer. But what I can give, is everything that I am.”

A loving sigh escaped his lips, as you briefly caressed his cheek. Your hand trailing towards his neck, and your fingers tracing the back of his helm. Optimus’ chest closed again, as he placed his free servo around your waist again. Gently sweeping you off your feet, and bringing you closer to him.

"By my Spark, I would protect you. Adore you. Cherish and support anything that's important to you. If doubt ever aches your heart, I will not rest till I can do everything I can, to free you of such feeling."

He placed a gentle kiss upon your forehead, running a digit through your hair. As his optics shined with hope and love.

"And if you ever wished for a piece of the night sky. I would go to its depths, and bring you back the brightest star."

---

“What are you two doing?” Shaned asked raising an eyebrow. As his puzzled gaze fell upon Tessa hoisting up a mis-shaped, makeshift disco ball, while Bumblebee helped guide it. Attempting to not allow the object to knock against the broken window.

“~Kiss the girl~” the Disney song buzzed from the scout’s radio.

“Their leader has fallen for my sister.” Tessa briefly explained, “something about her being Optimus’... what did you call it, Bee?”

“A~ Sparkmate~”

“Yeah... that...”

Shane placed his hands upon his hips. A smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “and that explains the uh, disco ball, how?”

“~setting the mood~ for ~true loves kiss!-”

“What racket are you two making now?” Crosshairs sighed.

All three turned to the green Autobot, as he crouched near the landing of the stone steps.

“Her sister, your boss.” Shane briefly spoke.

Crosshairs folded his arms across his chest plates, “you two still wasting time with that nonsense? I told you, there’s no such thing as a ‘Sparkmate’-”

“~what would~ you know~ about~ Sparkmate’s?” Bee challenged, letting go of the makeshift disco ball.

“Bee!” Tessa cried, as the rope almost lifted her off the ground.

The scout quickly grabbed the mirror coated ball, saving Tessa from flying a tall height.

“It’s a interspecies relationship.” Crosshairs groaned, “such thing has never been heard of back on Cybertron.-”

“~Love~ comes in~ different shapes!-”

“Ugh, guys.” Shane’s small voice interrupted, as his surprised expression gazed out of the window. “You should take a look at this...”

---

Eyes closed and embracing one another. A satisfied hum rumbled in the back of Optimus’ throat, as his lips mimicked yours.

Your heart fluttered, as The Matrix necklace rested against your chest. Your free hand trailed down from the back of his helm, towards Optimus' chest plate. Feeling the vibrations of his Spark, as it burst like small firecrackers.

A muffled moan slipped from you, as his glossa entered your mouth. Deepening the kiss and exploring your flavour, he gently bit your bottom lip. Encouraging your tongue to enter his mouth.

The desire of wanting more knotted in Optimus' admonian, as one of his servo’s explored the curvature of your back. Reaching down towards the waistband of your trousers, slipping his digits underneath the fabric. Butterflies in your stomach, caused the lowest pits to do backflips. As you felt Optimus' servo play with the lace of your undergarments, before giving your ass a cheeky squeeze.

A warmth built up within your core, as your body pressed against Optimus’ chassis. Small volts sparked throughout his wires, as your bust pushed up against him. Taking a moment to pull away from the kiss, as his optics took a cheeky sneak at your cleavage.

S-Sweet Primus!

A flickering flame built up within his core, as dirty thoughts intrude his processors.

His servo cradled your back, as you leaned back a little. Allowing the prime to plant soft kisses along your collar bone, and up towards your neck.

“Y/N... my Sweet Spark.” His toned rippled against you, causing excited shivers to run up your spine.

“Optimus-”

‘Crash!’ ‘Shatter!’

“Bumblebee!” the sound of your sister’s voice interrupted the silence. Followed by a sad whirl wheezing from the yellow Autobot.

You and Optimus looked at the window, which overlooked the balcony. Just seeing a glimpse of Shane and Crosshairs ducking out of sight.

An awkward chuckle erupted between the pair of you, as you and Optimus slowly broke away from one another. Your fingers and his digits tracing each others arm and down towards the palm.

“We uh... should head back inside.” You lowly spoke. Cheeks blushing from the afterglow.

Optimus tenderly kissed your cheek, before returning to his full height. “Indeed... perhaps, we could continue this another time?”

Next Day

“Calm down. Calm down.” Shane nervously muttered to himself, as Bee slowly rolled up to the back entrance of K.S.I.

“Y’know... in times like this, the idea is to keep cool, not look cool.” Cade sighed in the passenger seat. “So why don’t you lose the sunglasses?”

Shane removed the item as Cade briefly glanced at him.

“About a month ago, I thought I heard noises in the middle of the night. Was that you?”

Shane gave him a wide eyed stare, “what? You’re asking me this now?-”

“Don’t lie to me, kid. You see that guy with the gun out there?-”

“There’s so many guys with guns!” his panicky tone hissed.

“Let’s get out the car and tell him we’re about to break in.” Cade’s voice kept it’s calm and collected tone, “we could admit it was your idea. Cause I don’t care, I’m old, I’ve already lived long enough-”

“You have a real bad habit of having these conversations at the wrong time, man!-”

“You wanna come clean, or you want me to make a mess?”

Shane’s heart leapt into his throat, as Cade cleared his throat. Attempting to politely get the attention of one of the guards, “Sir, can I talk to you for a second please?”

“It was me. It was me” the Irishman lowly repeated, as the guard forced Cade’s door shut. Giving Cade a stern expression while shaking his head.

“Taking it in for scanning?” another guard address Shane, while Bee rolled down the driver’s window.

Shane silently nodded, holding up the forged K.S.I staff badge. The guard scanned it, looking over the pair before approving them to go ahead...

The Camero rolled through a hanger of polished concrete floors, and wooden walls painted black. Shane and Cade scanned their surroundings, avoiding eye contact from passing staff members.

“We took old, alien technology and made it better in every way.” A feminine voice echoed over the P.A system, “introducing Stinger.”

Bumblebee rolled to a gentle halt, as Cade’s wide eyed stare glanced up at a pink Transformer. Which was displayed in the middle of the hanger.

“That’s a bad-ass robot.” Shane admired, leaning closer to the windscreen.

“Kinda looks like you, Bee.”

Bumblebee revved his engine, disagreeing with Cade’s observation.

The Texan got out of Bee’s passenger seat, slowly approaching the display. He looked around the hanger, before activating the video recording system, that Crosshairs’ hid into Cade’s smart watch.

“Can you see this, Sweetie?” Cade whispered to you through his ear piece.

“I see it, Dad.” Your polite tone confirmed. “What the hell are these guys doing?”

“Looks like, they’re trying to build their own versions of the Transformers-”

“Well, at least they’re picking cooler cars than this.” Shane interrupted.

Bee revved his engine again, pushing his stirring wheel out of the dashboard and into Shane’s face.

“¬You talk to me like that?¬” the yellow scout buzzed angrily.

“Dad? What’s going on?” your voice scratched through Cade’s ear piece.

“Nothing, Sweetie. I’ll send more stuff your way if I find anything.”

Cade quickly deactivated the recording, approaching Bee’s passenger door again.

“See what happens, when you try and be a smart-ass?” he hissed at Shane.

Shane crawled out of the Autobot’s altmode. As an advertisement projected itself onto a screen, behind the Stinger display.

“Inspired by Bumblebee. But better in every way” the femiline voice continued through the screen.

“~What?~” Bee’s radio harshly buzzed. “~Son of a-”

“No! No!” Cade yelled at the Autobot, whom decided to do burnouts in the hanger. Marking up the polished concrete floor, “you gotta calm down!”

“Bee! Stop messing around!-”

All froze as the sound of voices filled the hanger, Cade and Shane’s nervous stares glanced up at a group of people walking through doors on the opposite side of the hanger.

“Hey!” one of their voices called out. “You two! Grease moneys!”

"Oh shit..." Shane muttered. "That's Mr Joyce, the CEO of K.S.I." He nervously tried to hide behind Bumblebee, as the individual dressed in a fine tailored suit, and glasses approached Cade.

“What the hell is going on here? And what’s with this vintage crap?” He hissed in an hushed whisper.

Bee revved his engine as Mr Joyce gestured towards the Autobot.

“We’re not scanning collector junk.” Joyce's tone held an amused tone, matching his expression. As he continued to talk to Cade, “what is it that you think we make here? Hmm? We make poetry here! We’re poets! When you work for me, you get to make one mistake. One. Understood?”

“Yes Sir.” Cade professionally spoke, “understood. It won’t happen again, Sir.”

“It certainly won't.” Joyce sighed, “now... let’s get this pathetic thing out of here. And you, too.”

Cade silently nodded, feeling Joyce's stare look over him again. Before returning to the rest of the group, and escorting them out of the hanger.

Shane released a heavy sigh of relief, that he had been holding in the whole time.

“You and Bee leave here quietly.” Cade spoke, as he looked at the Irishman over his shoulder. “I’m going to try and have a look around. Hopefully Y/N is doing better than us...”

---

Your heels clicked along the marble floor, as you walked across the lab of the basement level. Scientists, engineers and various staff hovered around tables. Your hand clenching into a fist inside the pocket of the lab coat, while your free hand fiddled with The Matrix necklace. Your eyes looked at the multiple pieces of alien tech, which scattered across the metal tables throughout the lab.

Your saddened gaze fell onto the heart-wrenching sight before you. A small gasp getting trapped in your throat, as your heart sunk deeper into your chest.

You poor darling. You thought, as the lab-techs melted and pulled parts off, of a decapitated green Autobot helm. What have they done to you?-

“Metal.” A blonde woman wearing a smart three-piece suit approached your side, her blue eyes following your gaze. As you played with your smart watch, discreetly sending the video footage to Drift.

“Just metal. Well, that’s what I always thought of them.”

“You’re wrong.” She gave you a puzzled side glance, as you tried to hide the breaking of your voice. “They’re more than that. They’re living beings with souls- like you and me.”

You pulled a weak smile, “I uh, spoke to one... once.”

“And you’re working with Transformium?”

She studied your silent nod, before turning her attention onto a clear canister filled with a gray substance which looked like sand.

“I’m out there digging for it.” She sighed, “there’s just not much left to find.” Her eyes flickered back to the Autobot’s helm, “so that how badly you guys need more, huh? Reduced to melting old Deceptions?”

“That’s not a Deception.” You corrected, “that’s an Autobot. The ones who fought for us-”

“They slaughtered Ratchet!” Optimus’ angry voice yelled through your ear piece. Almost hurting your ear drum. “I’m gonna tear them apart!”

A loud sound of something falling echoed throughout your ear.

“Excuse me.” You kindly spoke to the blonde woman, as you took a few steps towards one of the exits. “Optimus? Can you hear me?”

Only radio static responded to you.

“Crosshairs? Drift? Can any of you hear me? Please! Don’t do anything rash.”

More static.

An uncomfortable knot twisted in your stomach.

Why do I have a bad feeling about this?-

“Security to Level 3, please. Security to Level 3.” A voice echoed over the P.A system.

Now what?

---

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Cade ran across the third level of the K.S.I building. Alarms going off over the P.A system, as security followed him.

Dodging between frozen staff members, and bursting through random doors. Cade almost made it back to the lift, which lead down back to ground level.

But he had to come to a skidding halt, as more security guards cut him off. Aiming their weapons in his direction.

“Up against the wall! Hands behind your head!”

A heavy sigh left Cade, as he peacefully co-operated. As the security grabbed his arms, placing them against his back and pinning him against the window.

“Corporate espionage.” A familiar voice caught Cade’s attention. Looking over his shoulder to see Mr Joyce, “that’s a very serious crime, Mr. Yeager. How I didn’t recognize you before baffles me, but no matter-”

“Look! Before this goes any further, I want a lawyer!” Cade protested. “Th-The Justice Department. Somebody I can trust! I’m just trying to protect my family, okay? Not from your company! From the government!”

“I can take it from here, Mr. Joyce.” A new individual entered the scene, Joyce studied the new stranger before walking towards the lift at the end of the hall.

Cade studied the new individual. A middle age man stood before him, well dressed like Mr. Joyce but his scalp reveling a receding hairline. Firm yet studious eyes hid behind thin glasses. He made a simple gesture at the security. Allowing Cade to face him fully, while rubbing his wrists a little.

“My name is Attinger, Mr. Yeager.” He introduced, “and who do you think I work for?”

Cade studied Attinger’s sly smile.

“You’re trying to protect your family, that’s admirable. And I’m trying to defend the nation from a alien war, we’ve had a taste of what that looks like.”

He carefully approached Cade, “and we’re certainly not going to tolerate another. Now... there is a version of this conversation, where you get to back to your barn. Your youngest daughter graduate with honor's, while your oldest gets a full-time position with any company within the U.S.A. I’ll even advocate for her personally for a six-figure salary, should she choose to work with me. And life as you know it, goes on.”

Cade raised an eyebrow, as Attinger continued.

“You and your daughters have no idea, what you gotten yourselves into.”

“And what’s the other version of this conversation?” Cade challenged, bring a frown to Attinger’s features. “Sending in your ‘hired help’ to murder my little girls? Or are you going to man up and do it yourself?”

“Depends on your preference, Mr. Yeager... I don’t ask much. You can still turn things into your favor. All you have to do, is convince your eldest to tell me where Optimus Prime is.”

A cheeky smile came to Cade, as the reflection of Bumblebee in the nearby window caught his attention. “I didn’t raise no snitch-”

‘Crash!’

---

Screams echoed throughout K.S.I as Crosshairs and Hound accompanied Optimus. Bursting through high windows, showering everyone below in a rain of glass, as the Autobots made their way through the lower levels.

Crosshairs raised his pistol above his helm, firing warning shots as the trio entered the lab.

“Get out! All of you!” Optimus roared, as people scattered away from him.

“Science fair’s over, meat-bags!” Hound’s voice thundered.

“Destroy the lab!”

The Autobots happily carried out their leader’s orders. Crosshairs and Hound fired at the piles of alien technology, kicking tables and igniting all manner of equipment.

“Excuse me!” You squeaked, trying to push through the flood of people exiting the lab. “Out of my way, please!”

“Destroy it all!”

Your pounding heart ached a little, as Optimus’ rageful voice yelled commands.

“Hey!” Joyce's voice roared over the gunfire, storming over to the Autobot leader. “Hey! Stop! That’s company property!”

“They’re not your property!” Optimus challenged, as he stood over Joyce. Allowing Hound to satisfyingly kick a table filled with alien parts.

“They were my friends!”

Joyce’s studious gaze analyzed the situation.

Finally pushing through the crowd, your eyes widened as Hound clocked his cannon. The weapon releasing a humming sound, as he aimed it at Joyce.

“Oh, you not talking so much now!” a smaller Autobot teased. “Not so tough when Hound is in front of you, huh?”

You watched the small Cybertronian climb onto the barrel of Hound’s cannon, his optics glaring daggers at Joyce.

“Go ahead.” Joyce calmly taunted, “show us your true colours, once and for all-”

“Just give me the word.” Hound smiled, “I’ll splatter him-”

“No! Don’t!” you cried.

“Why don’t you tell Itchy Fingers here, that this is all the spoils of war?” Joyce challenged, “dead metal. Innovation. That’s what we do here, it’s simply science! Because if we don’t do it, somebody else will! Because you cannot stop technology!-”

“We’re not your technology!” Optimus roared.

You ducked as the Autobot blindly kicked machinery into your direction. Causing sparks to erupt from power-ports, and machinery bits fly over your head.

“Optimus! Stop!” you begged.

“Let me vaporize his ass!-”

“Don’t do it, Hound!”

You quickly approached Joyce, standing between him and the barrel of Hound’s cannon.

"Out the way, Y/N." Hound's tone of voice sounded more like a warning, than a pea.

"No, I wont." You gazed into his green optics, range faded as sorrow filled them. "You're better than this Hound. Please... lower your weapon."

Hesitating for a moment, the Autobot grumbled. His cannon slowly shutting down, placing the weapon over his shoulder.

“I broke the code. I own your whole genome.” Joyce spoke with a smug expression. Confidence returning to his tone, since you've became his 'shield.'

“Keep digging your grave!” You hissed turning your whole body to him. “I’m not here for your sorry ass!”

Optimus crouched down to your level, lowering the barrel of his weapon. As his servo went from the weapon's trigger, and reached out for you.

“Y/N...?”

“We’ll tell the world what’s happening here.” You promised. Looking up at him, giving his index digit a comforting touch.

Your voice almost soothing Optimus’ rage filled Spark.

“Interesting... you allied yourself with them?’” Joyce questioned, gesturing at you and Optimus. His curious gaze switching between the pair of you, "or... am I sensing something, a little more?-"

"I'm giving you one chance." You firmly spoke, turning your attention back onto Joyce. "Stop doing this. Or the whole world will know what's happening here! What you're doing them!"

Joyce snickered at your words, “the world? The world would approve, my dear. We can make them now. Don’t you get it? Humanity doesn't need the Transformers anymore-”

“You’re wrong!” You said, shaking your head. “Humanity will always need the Cybertronians.”

A weak smile came to Hound, “you tell him Y/N.”

Optimus studied you and Joyce, puffing out his chest and releasing a unsatisfied huff.

“Autobots... we’re done.”

Tag List

@ursamajor17 @crowleysthings @k----a27s @lainekyuu @manticcashew @goreismyforte @imachaoticghost @person101lol

#optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #bayverse optimus x reader #transformers x reader #bayverse transformers x reader #transformers x you #optimus prime x you #optimus prime #optimus prime bayverse #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic writing #bayverse x reader #transformers #gardens light #x y/n #x fem!reader

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annewithaneofthegreengable · 8 months ago

Text

Homecoming Daydream

Summary: "So gorgeous. The prettiest angel for me. I can’t believe this is happening. Is this happening? I think I’m gonna cry. Am I crying? I can’t believe she’s marrying me. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch who’s ever lived."

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader.

Genre: Romance, fluff and smut.

Author's note: This is a multiple-chapter Toto x Reader fanfic. Noted that English is not my mother tongue so there will be mistakes.

Part 2: Homecoming Daydream

A small playlist to listen to while reading this. Hope you guys will enjoy this just as much as myself!

Toto blinked slowly as the sunlight hit his face. It didn’t burn down like before. During the early afternoon, the light had taken on a softer glow, bathing everything in delicate golden hues. It was almost time, but Toto was getting a little impatient. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Then he felt a hand patting him on the back.

“It’s gonna be alright, Wolff.”

“I know Lewis. Yet, I still doubt it. When life is too good there will always be something unexpected in the foreseeable future.”

Toto sighed.

“You’re worried too much! Not with the whole being selfish story again.”

“You don’t know it, Lew. She is still in her fruitful youth, she has a whole future ahead. What she really needs is to be with someone her age, someone to grow old with her, to be with her in this lifetime, to hold her hand as her best friend and soulmate, not someone who is just 1 year younger than her dad. I don’t even understand why did she choose to be with me in the first place not to mention accept my proposal. I’m scared Lew! What if she’s going to change her mind?”

“Don’t be scared. You don’t see the way she looks at you, do you? That woman is head over heels for you, as you for her. I don’t see why you shouldn’t be a little selfish now.“

Toto looked at his best man with a frown.

„You really think so?“

„I do.“

They were quiet for a long minute before Lewis cleared his throat and nodded at the clock on the wall.

„Better get ready, Toto. It’s almost time.“

„Yeah.“

Toto took a deep breath and ran his fingers over the material in front of him. The new suit. It had been a while. With a determined nod, he pulled it out of the bag and put it on. The dark fabric felt heavy and form-fitting, but not in a bad way. He tugged the suit into place and turned to face his friend.

„How do I look?” Lewis rolled his eyes but smiled.

“Like an old man.”

“Thanks. Should have chosen George or Nico to be my best man today.” He joked.

“Shut up, Wolff. You did not say that.” Lewis rolled his eyes.

Toto nodded and took one last look in the mirror. He barely recognised the man in reflection. He’d gotten much older, of course, but still quite young fit for a man his age. Taking a deep breath, he smoothed out the suit and turned back around.

“You sure you got the rings? Not Roscoe has it, right?”

Y/n chuckled quietly as everyone around her broke out in nervous chatter at the announcement of the time, shuffling around the room in a sudden frenzy. Her auntie was the worst, trading in her champagne glass for flowers, running to the other side of the room, before putting down the flowers again and downing her champagne in one go.

„Are you okay, Aunt Lana?“ Y/n asked from her chair by the window. She had wisely chosen that spot to stay out of everyone’s way.

„Am I okay? I’m a nervous wreck. Are you okay, honey bee? You’re the one getting married today.“

„I know.“

„Then why are you so… so calm?“

Y/n shrugged and smiled to herself.

„I don’t know. I just… there’s nothing to be nervous about. I love him. I know that I want to be with him for the rest of my life.“

Her aunt sighed and gave her a warm smile. Then she abandoned her drink to embrace her niece in soft arms and a cloud of familiar bergamot perfume.

„Oh, honey bee. I’m so happy for you.“

Y/n returned the hug with a chuckle.

„Thanks, Aunt Lana. I’m happy too.“

When they pulled back, her aunt had tears in her eyes, which she dapped at with a tissue, careful not to smudge her make-up. Then she sighed again and laughed.

„I still can’t believe you’re marrying an Austrian. And this Austrian, no less. I guess we let you watch too many Hollywood movies when you were younger.“

Y/n grinned and pinched her aunt playfully on the arm.

„Probably.“

„Before I forget, I brought this for you, honey bee. It was your grandmother’s and I wanted to give it to you for the ceremony. You know, something old, something borrowed and…“

„…something blue“, Y/n murmured softly, incredibly touched by the sweet gesture. „I didn’t know people actually did that.“

Aunt Lana shrugged and grinned, as she clasped the bracelet around Y/n’s wrist.

„Can’t hurt, can it? Plus it’ll look great with your dress.“

They hugged again.

“I love you, Aunt Lana. You have always been there for me, even when no one really wanted me in the first place, not even my mom. Thank you, for being my mom, and my best friend for all those years.”

„I know, I love you too and I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Except for now, because we’re going to go downstairs and make sure your husband-to-be doesn’t tear down the building, waiting for you.“

With that the bridal team got to work, helping Y/n into her wedding gown. A simple, but elegant square-neck silk dress that fit her like a glove. The girls from the make-up team had helped her with the hair and make-up before, but she had kept it light on purpose. It was still late summer in the south of France and she didn’t want to sweat through layers of foundation on her skin.

„You look incredible. Your husband is going to drop dead, Y/n.“ her best friend said.

“I certainly hope not. Still need him to stay alive for a while longer.”

“Either way. It’s time to finally make an honest woman out of you.”

Toto took a deep breath for what felt like the hundredth time today as he looked around, filling his lungs with the warm summer air that reminded him so much of the very first time he’d been here. The backyard of the chateau looked beautiful and decorated with lots of greeneries, roses and hydrangeas, her favourite flowers, of course.

And after today, he would finally be her husband. With barely contained excitement, he hoped wasn’t entirely obvious to everyone around him, he took his place at the front of the altar. Fred grinned at him as he approached. They’d asked him to officiate the wedding and Fred had jumped at the opportunity, without hesitation.

„Well well well, if it isn’t the blushing groom to be. How are you holding up, old man?“

“Clearly, I’m not the only old man here today.” Toto rolled his eyes but grinned.

“Never been better.” He added.

„No cold feet?“

„None.“

„Good. Although maybe you could use a little cooling off since you barely made it through one night without your woman.“

Lewis snorted as he took his place as best man next to Toto, who turned pink all the way up to his ears.

„I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, really? So who did we have to hunt down last night for a little rendezvous with Y/n? FYI, Sebastian was going to report a missing case last night when we went to check on you.”

Luckily Fred spoke low enough now that the guests were gathering.

Toto cleared his throat and took another breath. Everything is gonna be alright. From one side of the garden, the full notes of the soft melody of “Lover” filled the air. (Who can possibly say no to “Lover” by TS in a wedding)

At that moment, he caught sight of the love of his life. Walking down the aisle, dressed all in white. Just for him.

Christ. Toto let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sent God all the best whispers despite not fully being a Christian himself.

He’d impatiently waited for this day for months on end, even pictured this very moment countless times. Still, the image hit him with the force of a semi-truck to the chest. Toto was surprised he didn’t collapse where he stood. He must’ve at least swayed a bit, because he could feel Lewis’ hand on his shoulder steadying him. But despite his body’s wavering, he couldn’t tear his eyes off Y/n. Not even when he heard a low whistle of appreciation behind him. His brain had gone into shock, only able to form one single thought at a time.

So gorgeous.

The prettiest angel for me.

I can’t believe this is happening. Is this happening?

I think I’m gonna cry. Am I crying?

I can’t believe she’s marrying me.

I’m the luckiest son of a bitch who’s ever lived.

The words, though swirling within his mind, failed to reflect the intensity of his emotions. The love he felt wasn't just confined to his heart; it permeated every fibre of his being, almost as if it were ingrained in his very essence. It lay dormant, awaiting the moment when he would finally encounter her, at which point it would awaken and alter the course of his life forever.

This affection transcended mere sentiment; it was a powerful force, an undeniable truth coursing through his veins with each heartbeat. He sensed it in the tightening of his chest upon her entry, almost so much that he felt like his chest was going to explode. This was the moment that he swore he would treasure it for this lifetime. Hell, he will even have it imprinted in his mind for the next life, even.

And just like that, she suddenly stood in front of him, glowing and happy, looking so radiant, it was almost like staring directly into the sun – if that were a pleasant activity. Toto blinked, against his will, and once again noticed the moisture that escaped his eyes. He wiped at his face absent-mindedly, causing a chuckle to bubble up from Y/n’s chest, shaking her body with laughter as she dabbed at the corner of her eyes.

„Hey“, he whispered hoarsely, reaching out for her.

„Hi“, she whispered back, placing her warm hand in his.

Finally.

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