#but i am unable to look away until hours pass and i am left wondering what i am doing with my life and how i got there

[sixquarksinatrenchcoat]

Briefly looked at twitter and was reminded why i need to stop doing that

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* I'll keep you warm (Yandere!Lynx Shifter X GN!Reader)

CW: Intense temperature exposure , Yandere behavior, dub-con, dead dove, imprisonment/abduction

Inspired by @lonelyafacy 's monster suggestion ❤️

Mother Nature was a cruel and indifferent witch, unforgiving towards those foolish enough to tread her wilderness. (Reader) smacked their dying flashlight, becoming numb to the harsh winter cold through their snowsuit.

The weather had turned for the worse, changing from a snowy winter's day into a blizzard that lasted into the night, separating (Reader) from their group. Their lips were stuck together with frozen blood, and their eyes could barley stay open. The snow coming down was deceptively sharp, nicking their cheeks above the slipping scarf and turning their skin into fragile paper.

Although they pushed on, trying to use the stars amongst the flurry of white as their guide, their limbs were losing their feeling, and (Reader) was beginning to wonder if it was worth the battle. The flashlight flickered again as though it could hear their thoughts. (Reader's) knees buckled, causing them to collapse by the base of a tree. They pulled their limbs in under their body, and fell unconscious, incapable of keeping themselves awake through the cold.

Am I dead?

(Reader) smelled something cooking before they realized they felt warmth. They hadn't been anywhere near civilization, so the first semi coherent thought they had was that they had died and this was heaven. Until their muscles began twitching in pain. A large hand pressed (Reader) back into a mound of furs when they forced themselves to move. The hand was warm and strong, even through the blankets (Reader) could feel it.

"Sleep." A gravelly voice commanded.

(Reader) kept their eyes closed, face mostly buried in the cloud like bedding. "Where am I?"

"My home. I found you outside." The unknown man responded while moving around the home, floorboards creaking under his weight. "Sleep more. It'll hurt less." His sentences were short and curt, but (Reader) didn't mind. Whoever he was had saved their life, so he couldn't be too bad of a person. (Reader) fell asleep again.

After thirteen hours (Reader) woke up and was able to sit up without pain, still feeling exhausted despite sleeping for such a long time. Their stomach hurt from hunger. "Hello?" They called out for whoever had rescued them.

A giant entered into view, wearing a hood that obscured his face from (Reader). He held out a wooden bowl filled with some kind of stew. "Can you eat?"

(Reader) reached out from the blankets, immediately going into shock when they saw their own naked arms. "Where are my clothes?"

"Drying. You think I'd put you sopping wet in my bed?"

Embarrassed, (Reader) turned red, ashamed for doubting their hero for even a second. They grabbed the bowl, thanking the man quietly.

"The blizzard has gotten worse. Even I can't leave right now. Once the storm has passed I'll point you in the direction you need to go. Until then, stay warm. Heal up."

"...Thank you."

"You already said that."

"That was for the food. Thank you for saving me."

Although he had his back turned to (Reader) they could see him tense under their words. (Reader) assumed he was uncomfortable with their presence, based on how he kept his face hidden. "My name is (Reader)."

"You don't need to know my name." The man's response was almost panicked, growling as he stormed out of the room.

(Reader) was left upset over the fact that they seemed to anger their savior. He must be anti social..

They finished the bowl of stew and waited under the fur blankets, unable to take care of their dish without walking around in the nude. After some time he returned, taking the bowl without a word, his hand seemed huge in comparison to (Reader's).

"Thank you." They smiled up politely, hoping he was looking. The man shuddered again, hurrying away with the bowl. (Reader) cleared their throat. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Your jacket was frozen solid when I found you. It took a few hours just to thaw. Everything is still damp."

"Why were you outside in this weather?"

"I was on my way back from some last minute hunting and gathering."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Again."

"There is no need to thank me." His body seemed to relax. (Reader) smiled, hoping that this meant they were wearing him down.

"You saved my life. I got separated from my friends and couldn't find my way in the dark. I would have died out there if it wasn't for you." (Reader) spoke as sincerely as they could. "You're my hero."

He took a deep breath. "I have... lived alone for a very long time. No one knows that I am here. I almost... left you, when I found you."

(Reader's) heart grew heavy with guilt. "I promise I won't tell anyone about you." They briefly imagined that under his cloak was a kind of Quasimodo esque being, who risked his identity to save them.

Even without seeing his face the man seemed surprised, turning to (Reader) and staring from under his hood.

"Cain."

(Reader) gave a large toothy grin. "It's nice to meet you, Cain."

They sat together in a strangely comfortable silence, before a gurgle reminded (Reader) that, unfortunately, they were still human. "Do you have a restroom?"

His relaxed demeanor stiffened again. "It is.. down the hall." He quickly handed an oversized shirt to (Reader) before turning his back for privacy, and pointes in the direction of the facilities.

(Reader) threw the shirt on without thinking too much about it, and painfully hopped to the toilet. The building was a cozy little cabin, (Reader) was just now realizing, with pictures hung up on the wall of a family. They wondered if it was Cain's family. But the need to go was stronger than their curiosity.

They collapsed onto the toilet before realizing that there was an odd smell in the bathroom. It wasn't the normal bad stench of a toiletries, but it smelled rotten.

In the corner of the room was a pile of clothes, and other than that the restroom seemed to be empty, with nothing that could be causing such a smell standing out to (Reader). (Reader) didn't want to be snoopy, but... They finished hurriedly, praying that Cain couldn't hear them, and picked up the clothing. The clothes were heavy, torn into shreds and soaked in old, dried blood. A chill ran down (Reader's) spine. Cain didn't want anyone to know he was here. He considered leaving me to die to keep that secret.

How far could I make it in just a shirt?

They left the restroom, trying their best to appear normal. The family on the walls taunted them. Did the blood belong to one of them?

Cain sat by the fire, still hiding under his cloak. Next to him was (Reader's) clothes, hung up on the back of a chair. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. (Reader) sighed, placing a hand on their heart to muffle it's pounding. He still saved me.

(Reader) touched their shirt, feeling the warm dampness and was relieved, because it meant Cain hadn't been lying about that at least. "How long do you think this storm will last?"

"Hopefully just the night. It could last up to a week though."

They shivered at the thought. "Do you have a couch I can sleep on? I wouldn't want to take your bed. Again."

"You can take the bed."

"I'm really fine-"

"Take the bed."

(Reader) could feel the adrenaline shoot to the tips of their toes. "O-okay." Although there was a smile on their face, the previous comfort they felt around Cain was dead. They had trusted him so much simply because he rescued them that they had forgotten that Cain was still a stranger.

Cain grabbed (Reader's) wrist as they passed, his hand engulfing their forearm with his inhumanly large mits. The air became heavy, and (Reader) could feel their arm sweating in his strong grasp.

"Your hand smells like blood."

Frightened, (Reader) smacked at Cain with their free hand, knocking his hood back. Although his face looked only a few years older than (Reader) his shaggy hair was a light grey, and atop his head were two pointed ears, pressed back against his scalp. If it weren't for the coloration, (Reader) CO m wouldn't have noticed the ears at all with how flatly they laid against his head. Shocked, he released (Reader's) arm, giving them enough time bolt out the front door, back into the blizzard.

Snowflakes pierced their skin as they ran, and the warmth they had gained in the cabin was gone the moment they left it's protective embrace, robbed by the harsh environment. Barefoot, (Reader) ran in a random direction, not capable of rational thought. With fight, flight, or freeze, they learned in that moment what kind of person they were.

Between the clouds masking the stars and the onslaught of snow, (Reader) was left completely blind. Without any clothes it felt like their muscles were shredding in their legs. (Reader's) legs gave out much more easily than they had the first time.

(Reader) could barely hear Cain's footsteps above the roar of the wind. Through the trees a large grey monster stalked into view, walking on its hind legs like a man, it's terrifying size was more reminiscent of a bear's. It's ears were flattened, and there was an almost human like expression of disappointment on its face.

"What were you thinking, running off into the woods?" It's voice was hoarse, but it was recognizably Cain's.

As he approached his fur receded, shrinking back down into his more human form, still with animal ears, now naked in the snow. He bent over (Reader's) violently shivering form as they crumbled.

"Did you forget that there was a storm?"

(Reader's) eyes stung as they tried to cry. "Please don't kill me." They weakly pleaded.

"Why would I save you, only to kill you later?" His warm breath thawed (Reader's) cheek. "You were unconscious for a long time when I found you. I thought you were dead. Unlike myself, you needed shelter suitable for a human. So I took one. I didn't have time to clean up everything. I needed to bring back everything I had caught to begin preparing a meal for when you awoke and making it comfortable for when I would eventually make you mine, so I was hoping that you would understand. That I killed them for you."

Cain's hot tongue licked (Reader's) cheek, the juxtaposition between the extreme cold and his sudden warmth made their skin feel like it was being torn off. (Reader) gasped out in pain, too cold to scream.

"I really did almost leave you in the snow. Because what if you left? Found out what I was and told the other humans? But look at you... Were you even conscious when you begged me to save you? Or was that your body acting on its own?" Cain got onto his knees, his skin searing (Reader's) flesh. His fingers digging into their shoulders felt like flames dancing across their body. Each touch from Cain burned. It was neither comforting nor pleasant.

"Ah, but now you're nearly frozen, yet again. Do you want me to warm you up?" Everytime Cain shifted his weight above (Reader), they were exposed to the blistering wind. As the parts of them hidden under Cain's body warmed up in his unnatural heat, the more excruciating the exposure to the outside was.

Tears melted (Reader's) fragile eyes. "Please, warm me up, Cain." Their primitive need for survival made (Reader) beg like a pathetic coward.

The loving smile on Cain's face was brief, before his face began shifting, becoming the humanoid monster he was moments earlier. Dwarfing the terrified human, he ran his rough tongue across their cold body, purposely allowing their body to freeze without his touch before warming (Reader) back up. He relished in the needy whimpers escaping (Reader's) lips as they suffered in the deadly temperature. (Reader) grasped at Cain's fur, trying to pull him in to steal his heat.

Clawed paws grabbed (Reader's) thighs, pressing their knees to their head uncomfortably. (Reader's) eyes widened in horror as Cain revealed his cock, resting it across their exposed bottom. They didn't have time to protest before their body was folded into a mating press, no preparation for their tightened hole, no warning to help them relax. Cain pressed his tip to the opening, and snapped his hips into (Reader's), thrusting in his entire member without lubricant.

Cain's dick was already hot, but with the added pain of the sudden insertion it was like being fucked by an iron poker. The scream (Reader) couldn't find earlier now ripped through their throat, the sound of their agony drowned out by the howling wind.

(Reader) pushed Cain away in surprise, but immediately regretted the action when he playfully leaned back, allowing (Reader's) chest to be assaulted by the snow and hail pelting them from all sides. They pulled him back, cringing at how Cain chuckled in their ear.

He fucked them in the snow, pressing deep into their gut painfully, and humiliating (Reader) further by licking away their tears as they sobbed under his body, incapable of pushing him away. Cain could stop at any moment, but the threat of frost bite kept (Reader) latching onto him, begging him not to let go. Their desperate cries only encouraged Cain to continue teasing them, watching with glee as their skin chapped and bled without his touch.

"It hurts..." (Reader) moaned as they pulled him in deeper.

"If you keep whining like that you'll only make me cum faster." Cain threatened, biting (Reader's) neck to hold in a gasp when they tightened around him. Their knees smacked into their temples as his pace sped up, his twitching cock threatening to release deep inside (Reader).

"No! Don't cum inside me!" (Reader) blubbered into the monster's fur.

(Reader) felt a wave of heat blast inside them as Cain pumped his thick load into their raw hole. As they wept loudly Cain continued happily smacking his wet pelvis into his beloved's, just the action of fucking his seed into them turning him on again.

Cain was already planning their futures together, as (Reader) imagined their death. This wouldn't be so bad, fucking (Reader) like this; purposefully keeping them needy so they clung to him like they wanted it.

Maybe one day, (Reader) would love him in the same way as Cain loved them, and would beg Cain to make love to them, but for now, he was content fucking them like a desperate, wild animal.

Blood from the wind burns and from the tearing from rough sex stained the white white under their bodies. Cain turned back into a human so he could kiss (Reader) passionately, taste their mouth salty from their tears.

"Let's go home, (Reader)."

[r0ttenhearts]

can I request a charac using reader who has a crush on them for their own benefits. while reader is left to wonder why chrc acts like a stranger to reader in public. eventually confronting chrc and them brushing it off as not noticing, being too busy. until reader eavesdropped to a convo with chrc's friend abt chrc just using reader. and reader leaves and ignores chrc for a while and chrc slowly starts missing reader's presence, only to see reader with someone else and confronting reader about it. of course charac won't get the happy ending 😈

(preferably scara, or childe-- if u write for him.)

feel free to ignore, I think I haven't expressed my req properly 😭😭.

also can I be 🌧️ anon ? :>

thanks 🌧️ anon for the request ^^ i hope you enjoy!

not your pet, anymore

scaramouche x reader

warnings: angst, arguments, insults, suggestive mentions

“you love me, right?”

“of course i do, scara. you mean so much to me.” you whispered, fingers running through his hair as he leaned against you. his thick eyelashes fluttered shut, hand on his chest as he lay against you.

the biting cold of fall couldn’t compare to the warmth you two shared, huddled together like this. his cheeks still tinted pink from the cold air, hands cold to the touch, it was just the way you liked him to be. cold enough for him to want to sit close to you and warm up.

touches were not a regular occurrence for scaramouche, he was normally dismissive, claiming he hated the closeness of skin on skin contact. but that wasn’t said when he’d tug at the end of your sweater, asking if he could feel more of your warmth. soft pants escaping your lips, his cold hands wandering, bodies on the cold floor of his bedroom. that’s how you’d spend your days after school.

but this time, with your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead as you finished up some of scaramouche’s homework he had passed on to you, something felt different. he was glued to his phone, an unusual smile gracing his lips as his thumbs danced across the device. you frowned, putting down your pen as you watched his face pull up in expressions you had rarely seen.

“who’re you talking to scara?”

“none of your business, (y/n).” he snapped, the smile he had been wearing for a few minutes dropping as his head snapped up to look at you. he sighed dramatically, getting up from the floor as he placed his phone down next to your hand, his face inches away from you.

“so damn nosy (y/n), when you should be doing my essay. are you bored? should i give you more work? or maybe i should let you suck me off, put your mouth to use. i think i like you better when you’re stuffing me in than anything you’ve ever said, anyway.” he sneered, enjoying the silence from you. a slight movement from you caused annoyance to bubbled up inside of him, his face unable to hide that itching feeling.

“you know, if you weren’t like this i’d be nicer to you, hell, maybe i’d love you. fat chance of that happening, i hate you most of the time. the only time i like your mouth open is when you’re making those pretty sounds for me, anything else is just muck.

why’re you so quiet, huh? are you gonna run off to your friends again? tell them how horrible i am? you think someone like collei will bother with you after you tell her what you do in here with me? how you open yourself to me? after swearing to her you’re done with me? you’re fucking something, (y/n). honestly, i’m getting sick of you. can you get the fuck out now?”

scaramouche’s phone buzzes, screen lighting up with a new text message. the both of you glance to it at the same time before he snatches it up, typing away a response as you gather your things without a word. biting your tongue was easier said then done, but you knew the argument would be worse if you said anything to him at all.

with a gentle click of scaramouche’s door, hours had gone by since you made your way home. a warm shower to rid of the nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach, along with the stickiness scaramouche had left you. you weren’t enjoying this, not one bit.

you figured you’d talk to him tomorrow in class, apologize for your inconveniences to him, and have it return to how it usually was after a fight. if you could call it one.

what you didn’t expect was to see scaramouche sitting by the green haired girl, haypasia, his usual seat empty as they sat side by side. quietly setting your things down, you still thought to say good morning to him, as a sign of peace.

standing from your seat, you meekly stood in front of him, hands wringing in front of you nervously. “good morning scara, and haypasia, i was wondering if—“

scaramouche never looked at you the whole time you were standing in front of him, his eyes glued on haypasia as her eyes bore into yours. a bitter smirk on haypasia’s face as she waved you off, scaramouche rolling his eyes before continuing whatever conversation they were having before you interrupted him.

a pain started to form in your chest. that nauseating prick that you’d feel every time you knew scaramouche was fooling around with other girls. cold sweat was all you felt as class droned on, your eyes never leaving the back of scaramouche’s head as his hand would slip underneath haypasia’s desk, sliding her pieces of paper that she would giggle at or turn red to after reading.

why is he being like this? should you have said something yesterday? would the satisfaction of knowing he practically owned you satisfy him enough to not be like this? these thoughts ran through your head until it was time for lunch, that bell being something of a savior as you were freed from seeing him there with her.

childe’s loud laughs caught your attention as he stood with kazuha, an anxious look on the white haired boys face as his eyes locked with yours for a moment. “i mean, just look at her! everyone knows scara is just using her. i heard, he’s been sleeping with (y/n) so he’s good enough to do it with that other girl, whatever her name is. you know her, right kazuha? whatdya think? did you get a piece of her yet too? or is it just scara sinking his claws in her, and something else!”

kazuha’s nervous laugh as childe punched his arm spoke volumes as you stood up, clutching the strap of your bag. kazuha noticed the tears in your eyes as you ran out of the classroom, you had heard every word that came out of childe’s mouth. excusing himself, he ran after you, his soft taps of his feet on the floor in comparison to your loud, cluttered footsteps.

scaramouche heard about this from childe, his demeanor changing once childe gave him the details on how kazuha ran after you. he didn’t know why it bothered him, but it did. no one else should be acknowledging his pet, the one that was so compliant and listened to everything he asked of you.

that’s how he saw you, and that’s all you were to him. right? that egging feeling in his chest as his messages to you were now left on seen more often than not. your cat keychain you hung on your bag that “reminded you of him” being replaced by a charm of a maple leaf, the same one kazuha had on his bag.

it bothered him. and he didn’t try to hide it. every time you’d sit next to kazuha instead of him, he’d grumble under his breath. a part of him ached to see you bare on his bedroom floor again, your fingers running through his hair, your gentle kisses on his forehead when you’d put him to bed when he was in a foul mood. he actually missed you.

but why were you so distant now? surely kazuha wasn’t giving you something he wasn’t, right? he couldn’t. you’d always declared your loyalty to scaramouche, never once breaking it.

then why did you admit you were in love with kazuha? your hands together in front of scaramouche as he scoffs, taking you by the wrist the second those words left your mouth.

“come again? i think i misheard you (y/n). you said you were in love with me just last month. so how do you even think you have feelings for that poet?” his voice wavered, eyes scanning across your face for a sign, a hint of remorse or love that you once held for him.

you shake your head, taking your hand away from scaramouche’s grip but he tightens it anyway. his eyes bore into yours, begging, pleading for it not to be true. for you to laugh it off and say you were kidding.

“he’s.. kind. it’s unlike something i’ve had before, and.. it feels good. it feels good to be wanted, scara. something i never felt with you.”

“something i never felt with you”, those words rung in his head as he laughs loudly, fat tears spilling as he pulls you into his chest. your hands going to push him away as he holds you tightly, laughing through his tears.

“you promised me (y/n), you promised you’d stay. you said you’d stay with me forever, love me forever! please don’t be like them, please don’t let that be a lie.”

“let me go, scara. please.” you whispered, feeling him shake his head as his hands tighten around you.

“n-no, no.. i can’t lose you too. archons, i can’t. what did childe say (y/n)? i promise he didn’t mean it, whatever he said isn’t true! i swear.. let’s just, go back to how it used to be, yeah? you can come over like you used to and- and we just don’t have to have sex. we can do things you like! i swear.. so please..”

his tears had rolled down, coating your neck as he wept. you’d never seen him in such a desperate state. his eyes looking into yours for a hint of what used to be there for him, but there wasn’t. more tears rolled down his cheeks as he let you go. he had fucked up. again. and this time he lost you, the one thing he never thought he’d lose.

“i’m sorry, scara. i’ve moved on. i think you have too with haypasia, you’ll be okay.” you say before picking up your bag, leaving him standing there with a wreck of feelings in his chest.

“you’re just like the rest.” he spat under his breath, harshly wiping at his eyes as the tears continued to flow. a hateful sentence meant to comfort no one but himself. he knew you weren’t at fault for it, he knew one day you’d want something more of him, something he’d be reluctant to give you. the day you finally escaped the clutches of the toxic relationship he had given you, the same day he had deemed the end of his new beginning.

“i never got my forever with you, like you promised. i can’t apologize for hating you for it.”

taglist: @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @kaoriee @samarill

[the-fiction-witch]

Mr Crown P2

Media - Morbius Character - Lucien Crown Couple - Lucien Milo X OC Reader - (OC) Anastasia Morton (Assistant) Rating - Sexy Af Word Count - 2106

The day passed slowly for Lucien, waking up and having his medication doing a few small tasks here and there, his excitement for the gala building gradually as the hours ticked by. He spent the afternoon in a flurry of prep for the event, his mind occasionally wandering to thoughts of Anastasia and wondering what she would look like all dolled up for the event.

He made sure to freshen up and dress in his most expensive black suit and red silk shirt, eagerly awaiting her arrival at seven.

As he had his second to last medicine for the evening, he tried a few times to get his tie right but it just wouldn't work, in the end, his butler did it even if he didn't do it quite right either, 

Lucien looked in the mirror, assessing his appearance. The suit hung off his now slender frame, emphasizing his weakened state. He took a deep breath, feeling a pang of frustration at having to rely on a cane, but he knew he had no other choice. He turned to the butler standing behind him, a hint of irritation in his voice. "Is this the best you can do with my tie?"

"My apologies Mr Crown," The man nodded, 

He let out a heavy sigh. "No matter. It'll have to suffice for now. Where is she anyway? She should have arrived by now."

"In the garage waiting, sir."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. His curiosity piqued, and he gave one last glance at himself in the mirror before making his way to the garage and towards where Anastasia was waiting. He hobbled down using his cane to make his way down to the garage filled with his many luxury cars, and he stopped short at the sight, the black Bentley sat freshly cleaned and polished practically sparkling, and in front of it stood Anastasia,

She wore strap red designer heels, her hair up Glamour's curls, her make-up impeccable, silver necklace of roses around her neck with a matching bracelet, a silver and rose handbag over her shoulder and her dress… Her gown was a floor length off shoulder silk dress with a high slit that looked as if it had been made to measure to accentuate every single Inch of her a matching red to his own shirt,

"I am acceptable Mr crown?"

Lucien's mouth went dry as he laid eyes on her. The sight of her in the stunning red dress, coupled with her flawless makeup and hair, left him speechless. He stood there for a moment, taking in her appearance, his gaze roaming over her curves and the way the dress seemed to hug her body in all the right places. "Acceptable? No, no, my dear." He paused, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes unable to look away from her. "You are downright sensational." He took a few steps closer, his cane clicking against the floor, his eyes drinking in her figure. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to run his hands over the silky fabric, to feel her body beneath it. But restraint won out, and instead, he stopped just a few feet away from her, his gaze locked on her face and then roaming down until he was shamelessly admiring her body. His tone held a hint of approval and desire as he spoke again. "You look like a dream, Anastasia."

"Thank you," she smiled, "As strong as always but extra handsome today," she complimented him, "Come here" She immediately took his tie off and fixed it herself,

Lucien chuckled softly as she fixed his tie, Her proximity to him brought her scent to his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of her rose perfume and the closeness of her body. As she adjusted his tie, he couldn't help but appreciate her attentiveness. "Always making me presentable, are you? I'd be lost without you to fix my tie."

"I think without me, you'd have invested far more in clip ones," she chuckled, 

He chuckled in response, knowing damn well her words were true. He knew he was hopeless with ties. "You're probably right. I'd be spending a fortune on clip ones."

"Shall we?" She asked glancing at the Bentley's back door,

"Of course. Lead the way, my dear."

She opened the back door and helped him inside before climbing in herself and shutting the door behind them, she nodded to the driver who started the Bentley and began to drive as soon as they were outside Lucien’s garages the driver rolled up the partition, 

Lucien settled into the back seat, as the partition went up, shutting them off from the driver, a strange sense of intimacy enveloped them in the back seat. The world outside was forgotten as they were alone together in the luxury of the Bentley, the hum of the engine surrounding them. He glanced over at her, taking in her beauty once again. He couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity in comparison to her elegance. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a sigh escaping his lips.

she noticed his hand and gave his hair a slight adjustment making his thinning from his sickness less noticeable, 

Lucien's breath caught in his throat as she adjusted his hair, a flutter of vulnerability running through him as she touched him so gently. It served as a stark reminder of his illness, the reason for his weakened state. He looked into her eyes, his expression carrying a mixture of gratitude and insecurity. He was grateful for her presence, her support, but at the same time, he felt ashamed of his weakness and how she must see him, he didn’t want her to see him like that, like this.

She coughed breaking the silence moving from his eyes, "so, which side did you want me on?"

Lucien blinked, snapping out of his thoughts at her question. He considered it for a moment, his gaze roaming over her figure, his mind warring with itself. A part of him wanted to have her seated next to him so he could be closer to her, feel her warmth beside him. But at the same time, he was hesitant, thinking of how it would look, him with a stunning young woman on his arm while he looked weak and ill. After a moment, he let out a soft sigh. "Next to me."

She rolled her eyes a little playfully "Yes Lucien, however it's not a very good look for press or fellow business people to see us climb out the car a debate what arm I need to hold. I don't want to cause you any more trouble," she said glancing to his cane, "So whatever makes it easier,"

Lucien chuckled softly at her playful eye roll. She had a point. He didn't want to seem even weaker than he already appeared. He sighed, his hand involuntarily gripping the cane tighter. "You're right, as always. It would look quite strange to see us debating over what arm you should hold." He grumbled slightly, a hint of irritation in his voice at the idea of his illness being on display. But then he looked at her, her beauty offering some consolation. “My right, hand without my cane.” 

“Perfect,” she agreed,

"You’ll sit next to me?"

"My seat is next to yours at the gala I'll be next to you."

Lucien nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. It was a suitable compromise he supposed. The thought of having her by his side the whole evening offered him some comfort. "Good. I want you nearby. I'm certain you'll be the most gorgeous one there, anyway… Thank you, for coming with me."

"not a problem, a gala is a gala, a business can be done anytime, the most important thing is looking after you," she smiled briefly resting her hand on his,

A soft, almost imperceptible shiver ran through Lucien's body as she rested her hand on his. It was such a gentle, yet powerful gesture. He appreciated her concern for him, and her desire to take care of him. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse, his hand subconsciously turning to intertwine his fingers with hers. "But you also mustn't neglect your well-being. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight as well."

"I'll do my best, try not to be so... Business."

Lucien chuckled at her comment, amused at her suggestion. "Me? Not be so business? That's a rather tall order, my dear." He gave her hand a slight squeeze, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "But I'll try to remember how to socialize without discussing stocks and investment portfolios. You have my word." He chuckled again, the sound weak but genuine.

She chuckled as she glanced out the blacked-out windows seeing they were almost there lining up for the drop off as all galas are, about ten minutes before they'd be greeted by guests and press so it was final checks,

Lucien fussed over his appearance, ensuring his tie was straight and his hair was presentable. He adjusted his suit, trying to hide his weakness, the way his once muscular frame had diminished. 

Anastasia noticed his fussing as she always did, she did feel a bit of pity knowing how much he hated how his illness made him appear to people, she wanted to cheer him up, and help him go to this gala feeling confident and happy. And she had a wicked little idea. 

He turned to her, but then his gaze caught hers as she smiled at him in a rather wicked way. He raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "And what might you be smiling at so mischievously, Miss Morton?"

She softly took his hand again, leaning a little closer to him.

Lucien looked down at her hand wrapping around his, her touch gentle. He felt a mixture of comfort and vulnerability at the intimate contact. He laced his fingers with hers, his grip slightly weak but firm nonetheless. He looked into her eyes, a soft, vulnerable expression on his face. "You have a devilish glint in your gaze, my dear. I feel like you're up to no good."

She didn't answer she just shrugged and simply closed the gap and let her lips meet his, 

Lucien's breath hitched as she closed the gap between them and their lips met. The moment her lips touched his, a surge of desire and need coursed through him. He responded to the kiss immediately, his hand on hers trembling slightly as he leaned into the kiss, deepening it. 

She kissed back resting her hand on his jaw and bringing him closer as the kiss became heavier,

He broke the kiss momentarily, his breathing ragged and heavy, his forehead resting against hers. "Anastasia..." he murmured her name, his voice thick with need. But he quickly returned to her lips letting his tongue slip into her mouth which she happily encouraged, 

She moved his hand intertwined with hers and let him touch her silk dress running up her waist and pressing his hand onto the top of her dress his hand cupping her breast through the silk, 

Lucien's breath caught in his throat as she guided his hand, He pressed his hand against the silk, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin beneath, the contrast between the smoothness of the material and the contour of her body fueling his desire further. "Anastasia..." he murmured her name, his voice a little rougher than before, He let out a soft moan, his hand on her dress shifting slightly, pulling her closer to him. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the taste of her lips on his, the feel of her body against him, and the fire that burned deep within his core.

Lucien was lost in the kiss, his mind and body consumed by her. He had to fight back the primal urge to pull her onto his lap and have her right then and there. Instead, he let his hands explore her body, keeping the one she guided on her breast fondling and squeezing her as they kissed, the other running up her through the slit in her dress slipping under the dress to touch the warm skin of her thighs.

They kissed rather heavily in the back seat for what felt like hours, touching each other through their clothes and moaning against each other’s lips, 

Finally she pulled away and gave his forehead a kiss, "Have fun tonight Lucien. And if you need my help, you ask for it." she reminds him just as the door opened and she climbed out into the galas red carpet,

He took a moment to regain his mind before he shook himself straight grabbing his cane and climbing out too, 

[sealrock]

10. stable

cw: depiction of trans pregnancy word count: 983 words

"Do you think we can give this baby a stable life?"

Andromache's question filtered back into Achille's mind, though it came back nearly four moons too late now that he was holding said baby in his arms.

While it was easy not to think about before her arrival, Achille couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety settle in his heart as he watched Paris, the oddly masculine name her parents bestowed her, slumbered against his shirt. He found himself gently stroking her slick black hair, and he was suddenly reminded of the day his younger brother was born. Protected by soft swaddling clothes, a gift from Hector's mother, Paris looked like his brother, and most newborn babies—wrinkly, pale, and a bit ugly.

A soft orange glow filled the room from the open window, the fresh air trickling inside as the summer sun took its leave behind the treeline. Achille's ears picked up the call of cicadas, crickets, and frogs as they announced dusk's arrival in the forest beyond. A few hours had passed since Paris came into the world, screeching to anyone who would listen, but Achille felt like time hadn't moved since. He forgot how long he sat in this chair, he couldn't feel anything except the delicate weight of an infant—his loved ones' infant—in his arms. She had a startling amount of strength as her hand gripped his thumb, her fingers too stubby to reach the other side.

On the bed lay Hector, drained and a little wan, sound asleep and bundled in blankets, his long hair unbound. Despite the mugginess of the day, Hector was shivering like he had been in a snowstorm. Andromache, high off of pure adrenaline for the last seventy-two hours, crashed unsurprisingly after the delivery, her upper body halfway on the bed while she sat seated on Hector's left side, their hands intertwined. Achille wasn't allowed inside the birthing room, not that he wanted to be in there, the screams of pain and cries of agony were enough to keep him outside the house entirely. He did his best to offer Andromache some support, the girl unable to do much besides pace around and pull at her hair.

He wasn't even the father, yet Achille couldn't sleep a wink. When it was all said and done, Andromache practically twisted his arm to accept holding her daughter, a word she said with shaky pride. Yes, this was her daughter, and Achille didn't want to hurt her. His hands only knew how to kill, not to love. He wasn't suited to offer a child a life of stability, and if he was being honest, neither were Andromache or Hector. They were all young, much too young, and dealing with their own personal emotional baggage, to take on such a responsibility.

"Do you want an honest answer or a hopeful lie?"

Achille looked on from his corner of the candle-lit living room, situated away from Hector on the couch, watching as Andromache gingerly rested her head on their partner's lap, her ear pressed against his growing belly. With her hair petted by Hector, Andromache's back was against the couch cushions, her legs dangling off the side and crossed at the ankles. Her glittering eyes, full of wonderment in the likes Achille had never seen up until then, narrowed at his response as she regarded him upside-down. Hector could only chuckle, his eyes hooded by dark bangs.

"I think everything will be fine."

"How can you be so sure?"

Hector lifted his gaze to look at Achille, his expression calm and voice gentle:

"Because I have two bodyguards who wouldn't dare let anything go wrong."

Achille could feel the blush creep up his neck as he gave a crooked smile, "Is that all I am to you, hired muscle?"

"You know my meaning," Hector glanced down to Andromache before looking away, "You're more than that to me, both of you. We'll be alright because your love will extend to this child. They'll know nothing but love, protection, and guidance from all of us."

Achille shrugged, "I don't think I'm cut out for that."

"Don't be so modest," it was Andromache's turn to speak up, "You're just as much a parent to this child as we are."

Achille would never have children, the torturous days of his younger years rendering that impossible, but Andromache's words stuck to him since then.

Paris wriggled in his arms, little odd squeaks coming from her mouth as Achille brought himself back to the present. Achille froze, not knowing what to do as the noises grew louder. He also remembers this from his younger brother, how annoyed he felt at the sound of a crying infant.

"Put him back," was all the young boy said to the adults in the room.

His father could only laugh at the bluntness of his son's words. Achille could remember his father ruffling his hair in affection before the wailing monstrosity of a baby could be taken from his tiny arms.

"Achille?"

Achille jerked up from his seat, eyes landing on Hector and Andromache, both now wide awake despite only getting a few hours of sleep. Paris continued to cry as he awkwardly passed her along into her father's waiting arms. Hector looked like shite, but he beamed at the sight of his newborn, cooing and shushing her from his place in bed.

Andromache, equally haggard, gave a soft smile before stretching her legs. She led a dumbfounded Achille out of the room to give Hector some privacy, softly closing the door behind them as they stood in the hallway.

"You asked me this a while ago," Achille found his voice, his throat restricted with an odd emotion, "You asked if we could give Paris a stable life. Could we?"

Andromache scrubbed at her face as she considered his words. To that, she replied:

"Like Hector said, we'll be fine."

[pinkchaosnight]

AS TIME CONVERGES - one

masterlist here

an year later, in Earth

I am never going to get any sleep at this rate. Everyone is making a ruckus inside the bus, with the loud music and screaming. My headphones were absolutely of no use since I didn't charge them before getting on the bus. I guess I will sit through this ordeal for another two hours until we reach the camping site. As I stare into the distance from the window of the bus, a sense of uneasiness crept over me, as if something bad is going to happen.

"You think every day something bad will happen, Alice, so shut up,"

A hand on my shoulder took my attention, as I stare into the pretty face of Elena. God, why won't she leave me alone?

"Alice, why are you still sitting here all alone? Come join us for dancing," she gestures to the group of people dancing in the bus.

"No, I think I will just sit here," I say as I cross my arms and zone her out by returning to meaningless staring.

I knew I was behaving badly, but her voice was dripping with sarcasm and mockery. The same tone I dealt with for nearly two years in college. But I couldn't blame her for everything, as it's rather my fault. I was someone who preferred solitude and quietness, so when they tried to befriend me, I remained aloof. After a few tries, they left me alone, but sometimes her gang could come up and say things like that, with a tone that is supposed to make me feel bad. So everyone forgot I even exist in the class, they will only notice me if they want to make fun of me. But I pay them no attention, as I know it is their complex making them act like this, rather than it being completely my fault.

I couldn't help but wonder how good it would have been to be included in the group, having someone to actually chat about the things we like, having someone to actually spend time with. A part of me craves people's company but another part wants to push everyone away and I acted on the latter's preference. So here I am struggling, unable to even forge up a human connection with someone. Tears swelled up in my eyes as I nearly cried, when the bus jerked to a sudden stop.

"Seems like the bus broke down so we will be camping in the woods near," Ms. Thompson's voice rang out as we scrambled to pick up our travel luggage.

As I exited the bus, the beautiful jade woods came to my view. Jagged pine trees decorated the land, with occasional sprouting of grass and other weeds. Ms. Thompson gestured us to follow her into the woods, where we could be camping for the night.

Within an hour, the camp was set up and we were given half an hour to explore a small scenic pond near the woods. As I followed the rest of my classmates, a creepy feeling passed over me. The wind howled and the leaves ruffled, shifting the merry mood of the group to a grim one. I began to stick closer with the group as fear crept up on me and in case anything attacked me for straying too far away from the group.

"You know what, guys? This looks like a haunted woods right? The ones you hear about in the news where people disappeared without any trace and stuff and like that?" Shane cowered as he put his hands around Elena, drawing her closer to him.

"Shut up, you idiot, before you jinx us all with your mouth. I am sure we are going to be fine and -----" Before Elena could finish her words, the ground began to shake as the earth split open and a light began to emit from the crack, sucking us inside the cracked earth. We were all free-falling through the crack air whooshing past us, as our screams for help masked the rest of the voice. A bright flash of light is the last thing I remember before my world went black.

[icannot3]

"I Promise"

She was mesmerizing. A drop of fresh air in the otherwise thilthy godamn helpless world around him. She was what had became his sanction, his treasure in the inescapable shit of his surroundings. Life without her had no meaning, he would give anything just to experience the life he had lost that came with her presence.

But she'd left him. When Tate looked in his room, what was once her room, his heart shattered. It was now an empty shell of what it once was with her absence filling the dreary room. When her family moved out, she decided to join them. Many people had come and gone through the antique mansion, realizing the consequence and darkness that followed with living in such a place. Tate had been a product of his environment, a person who couldn't sense the darkness in his own heart. That was, until she became the light that grew very apparant to him after she was gone.

She had found out everything. His regret, his darkest hour and horrible doings. She accepted him with open arms and the promise of a better tomorrow. He changed for her, for the first time in life he almost felt like he could be fixed, forgiven, even loved. But she must have realized that someone as wonderful and kind as her had so much more to do in life than die and be stuck in this hell hole. She left, without a trace. No goodbye, no explanation, and the promise of forever.

He couldn't have expected her not to leave him, why would she have really stayed? Even with this question in mind he couldn't help but be fooled into fantasizing about an eternal bliss with her by his side and mourn what could have been. He'd never felt that way about anyone, anything. Months had passed, where he looked out the window toward the unreachable beyond hoping to see her even just from afar. He was unable to not obsessively think about her arrival that he knew wouldn't come.

This feeling stood corrected. Nine months after her unannounced disappearance, there she was at the door. It was late, well past midnight and freezing outside. A rushing sense of dread and resentment had filled him, the thought of leaving her outside in the cold just so that she could feel a small ounce of the pain he experienced from her abandonment was tempting. But nevertheless, she invited herself in. His heart lurched, he felt so many things that he couldn't describe. When he looked into her eyes the feelings of hatred he'd convinced himself to hold against her almost melted. He longed to touch her, feel her, kiss her lips again like he had craved for what felt longer than an eternity.

"Hey, I know it's been a while." She said, almost jokingly in a sense. He saw no joke in the matter, wanting an explanation immediately. "Hey?" His fists tightened, "What do you mean 'hey', almost a year passes by, and you just come back here? I want a reason." His heart ached more painfully than it ever had in the past, seeing her here in front of him. He wanted to be strong, he really did, but his eyes were already beginning to tear up and the little bit of composure he had was cracking by the second.

"You're right, I should get right to the point. Tate, no words can even begin to describe how sorry I am." She took a small step towards him looking down at his hand. "When my parents said they were moving, I was heartbroken. But I was also scared, scared of this house and what could happen to me."

He snapped. "I could have protected you! You had promised you'd stay. I needed you, and you left me." His breathing labors as he paces back. She followed him, attempting to grab his hand in the process until he noticed and drew away from her. "I know Tate, I was selfish and I have a reason for it. It was more than just my fears of this house, I was scared to get attached to you and have to die. But I already am! I've missed you so much, I've mourned the life we couldn't have where we can both leave this place on a day that isn't Halloween. It's what helped me make this decision."

He scoffed, "It's too late to kill yourself now. I don't want you." She shook her head, crying with him now. "I fear a life without you that I just had more than anything. I hate myself for hurting you, I love you, Tate. More than anything and anyone. I shouldn't have ever left." She was quickly moving toward him now, swiftly pulling him in and placing her head in the crook of his neck for a hug. He couldn't even stop her, moments later pulling her in and sobbing into her shoulder as well. He could smell her. She was a fresh breath of air that he had been craving.

"Please don't leave me again," he gasps, "I love you. He brings his head back to face her, kissing her through the salty tears. His body felt on fire, as if he were granted an addiction he'd been drawn away from. Immediately, the kiss grew more heated, his hands traveling to all of the places he couldn't touch before. Cradling her head with one hand and the small of her back towards her waist with the other. She was taking all of it in, securing her arms tightly around his neck with the same desperation. He lifted her off the ground, legs wrapping around him on instinct. It was just like before, she was in his arms again and he couldn't be happier. He pushes her against the wall, hands both cupping her ass for support. She gasped when his kisses trailed down her neck possessively, running her hands through his hair and giving it a small tug. It wasn't until the late next morning that their activities had finally stopped.

He woke up the next morning, his bare shoulders warmed by the natural light from the window shining upon them contrasting the slight chill. She, in the same nude state, was a glorious and very longed sight to see. He rests his head against her shoulder, cuddling into the warmth. She smiles, taking a deep breath of contempness. Placing a loving kiss on her neck, he gazes at her beautiful face. "Don't kill yourself." Now much more awake, she catches his gaze. "Tate, I want to be with you forever anyways it doesn't really matter if I live."

"I want you to live and stay with me. I want you to die the way nature intends and to be happy here with the choice." He kisses her again, but on the cheek as he props himself up. " And I wouldn't ever let anybody or anything hurt you, not even yourself."

"As you wish. I promise never to leave your side again, dead or alive. I'm staying here, and you're dealing with me." She spoke, smiling up at him so brightly. His hands quickly wrap around her, flipping her over and on top of him. She laughs, fully complying with his silly embrace.

"Good, because now I won't let you"

[joshkiszkashikingboots]

A World Of Our Own

pt. 1, fluff, jake x transmasc reader

“Come on, you haven’t seen them in years! I promise, they aren’t going to be judgemental”

You crossed your arms as your best friend, Amelia, spoke, it had been years since you came out and moved away, but your high school friends were all getting together for a holiday party and there were a few people you hadn’t seen for years.

“That isn’t what I am worried about, it’s just that I don’t want anyone to make it a big deal, and besides I don’t think anyone will care if I am not there.” you spoke, fiddling with the seam of your loose linen button up.

“Please?” She said quietly, “I really want you there.” You hesitantly agreed and hugged her, rolling your eyes a little bit.

A few hours later you were staring in the mirror after a shower. You ran your hands over the scars on your chest and bit your cheek. You remembered how feminine you forced yourself to be the last time everyone saw you and wondered how they would react. Everyone knows that small towns like yours aren’t the most accepting of things like that. You shook it off and took a deep breath, ‘it will be okay, I’ve got this.’ you told yourself in thought as you grabbed your fitted grey sublime t-shirt and threw it on with some jeans. You grabbed your keys, brown leather coat, and boots, and walked out the door.

Upon your arrival you see Amelia getting out of her car and finally lift yourself from the drivers seat of your car, chuckling at the sight of Josh’s ugly Jeep truck.

“Hey!” You said softly towards Amelia, who was headed towards the door.

“Oh!! Hey y/n! you made it!” She said, much more enthusiastically.

You hugged and walked in together.

As soon as you walked through the door Josh, who was wearing a hideous christmas sweater, lit up and came over to hug you. “y/n, hey! you are looking good!” He said with his hand resting on your shoulder. Jake smiled and hugged you silently before agreeing with Josh. “You really do.”, he said with a perk in his left brow.

You walked around, greeting your old friend group. After awhile of talking you headed to the kitchen to get a drink, Jake is there, pouring himself some whiskey on the rocks.

“Want some?” He asked, knowing it was you despite your silence.

“Yes, Please, just a bit though, I can’t drink like you and Josh” You laughed a bit and leaned yourself against the countertop. He walked over to you with your drinks and gave you a smile, leaning on the counter beside you. You could hear the party in the room over, but it was quiet there with him.

You took a sip in sync with him and close your eyes as the burn runs down your throat.

“You know y/n, I really missed you. I know neither of us have been here for more than a visit in years, but, I really did.”

You smiled at the ground and felt the butterflies in your stomach. You felt trapped in his gentle eyes, unable to break eye contact.

“Jacob,” you look at him slowly “I really missed you too.” You thought that you may be trapped in his gaze forever before he began to look at the ground then standup straight and clearing his throat.

“Sorry,” He laughed slightly, “Wanna head back out there?”

You felt the awkward aura in the room but laughed it off, and smiled at him “Yeah sure!”.

In your mind you curse yourself for possibly being the thing that made him feel awkward. As you pass through the door, Josh’s eyes shoot over to Jakes and move a bit. It was the same as high school, they would seem to have conversation just by looking at one another. It had always infatuated you.

Jake kept walking and separated from you, you took another sip and continued with the night, playing games and chatting. You were having fun until an old friend used your dead name. It hurt, even though you looked like you were fine. When Jake heard this, his head snapped around and he found your gaze, an eyebrow raised as to say, ‘Are you okay?’ and you shrugged back and headed for the bathroom. He followed and grabbed your arm, “y/k, hey, wait-“ you looked back and tried to smile, even though it just made your mouth a line, “Jake, I’m fine, they messed up once”

“I know but it still hurts” Jake spoke in a whisper, catching your gaze in that compelling and addictive way once again. His statement was so true too, you reached for his hand and held it as a few fingers gripped you back. “Its alright” He said, reaching the other hand hand towards your face, you felt yourself leaning in towards his lips for comfort as your eyes flickered between them and he leaned back, but despite your eyes closing, he kissed the side of your face gently. “y/n, do you want to go someplace with me?”

[msnova-scotia]

I’m gonna tell y’all about last night because it was a trip.

My girlfriend Jordan and I went to a friend’s haunted housewarming party (we wore costumes). My friend and their partners made stuff for nachos, a lot of people including my girlfriend brought stuff like desserts or extra snacks, we were just vibing.

At one point I was heading to the fire pit in the backyard and I passed this girl dressed as a Lorax who mentioned something about lemon bars. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around because I love lemon bars, and so me and the Lorax both got one and started chatting. A couple seconds after the first bite, we both just kinda stop and look at each other like “oh these have weed in them, better be careful.”

Side note, Jordan was in a more quiet room at the time, trying not to be overstimulated.

So I go to bring Jordan some lemon bar so she can get high and maybe chillax a bit. She doesn’t even have a quarter of it, but then my friend comes in and says each bar apparently has an obscene amount of weed and please for the love of god do not eat the whole thing. Like either 500g for the whole bar or the whole tray of bars? I’m not sure tbh as I am uneducated about this stuff but it’s way more than I’ve ever done regardless.

Knowing we’re both lightweights, Jordan and I don’t have anymore of the lemon bar and I throw away more than half of it.

An hour later, after being trapped in a conversation with some dude rambling on and on about fuck if I know, and sitting just staring at MtG cards with Lorax girl, both instances because I’m high out of my gourd, I’m sitting with Jordan in the quiet room getting more and more high, wondering if I can even make the 5 minute drive home for us with how high I am. She tells me that it’s really only going to get worse because of how strong the edible was so if we’re gonna leave, we have to do so now.

So as best as we can, we pack up our stuff, say our goodbyes, and walk across the street to the park where I left my car. As we’re walking through the park, this car is driving down the street, stops at a stop sign, and we hear them yell “CALL BABY FUCKER!” in a very angry, you’re-in-trouble-now, kind of voice. And then, in an automated voice from their car, we hear “calling Baby Fucker” and it starts to ring as they drive away.

Jordan and I stop and stare at each other, wondering if that really actually happened, and burst out laughing. Made much worse by how high we are, but we spent what felt like ten minutes just laughing about that and her saying how she’s changing my contact name and this and that.

Once we collect ourselves, we get everything put away in the car and start the drive, and maybe two minutes in we realize we’re so high that we don’t even have any music going. It was very funny, we started bursting out laughing again, but the entire drive home I can feel from both myself and from Jordan that we’re both realizing just how high we are and how tucked we are.

We get home, try to lay down for a bit, but a couple minutes later I start feeling nauseous and have to run to the bathroom. I spend maybe half an hour just hunched over the toilet feeling like I have to puke every time I shift, but unable to actually puke. The entire time, Jordan’s cleaning up in the kitchen a little, checking in on my every couple minutes, until eventually I’m able to puke.

I clean myself up, go to the living room, and Jordan’s just sitting there so high she’s just terrified of how high she is, feeling like she’s going to die. I feel the same way, but I thankfully have enough clarity of thought to know we’re not actually going to die and I try to calm Jordan down a bit. Nothing’s helping, she’s asking if puking helps, and because she brings it up, I have to rush over, while very wobbly, to the sink and puke two more times. Jordan stood there for a couple minutes rubbing my back, but eventually she had to run off to her bathroom to puke too, and then we just laid in her bed for a while until passing out.

Now, 12 hours later, we both still feel lingering bits of being high, and we’re both still lightly nauseous. Make sure to check dosages, peeps. And honestly, make sure to mark dosages too. If you’re making something that strong, for the love of god please mark it BEFORE people start serving themselves.

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Adventures of Theodred, Son of Eomer, ch 11 posted, 5-31-23)

Theodred's adventures as he travels with Freahelm, trying to find a direction for his life.  (Adventure, Drama, Angst, Romance, Family, Humor) (19 chapter story)

 Chapter 11  -  (begins Dec, 44 IV)

As Theodred stepped into the street, he saw that the throng of midday shoppers had swelled.  There was quite a crowd, and he had to work his way among people along the bustling thoroughfare.  Suddenly some fool called out that there was a sale taking place on the next level down and the throng surged eagerly toward the gate.  Too many people were pressed too tightly together; no one in their midst could do other than choose to be swept along as well.

Even with his youth and agility, Theodred had to keep alert not to be overturned by the rushing mass, but a small scream just ahead alerted him that someone was not so fortunate.  A woman had clearly fallen, and the crowd was either unwilling or unable to stop and help her.  They were barely clearing a path around her and he dug in his heels, bullying people aside as he waded toward her.  She was sprawled on her hands and knees, and with a quick motion he caught her by the waist, hauling her forcefully up and pressing her close to him, then wrestling them both off to the side and into an alcove cut in the wall.

Her face was pressed into his left shoulder, and she was weeping, though he was fairly certain it was more from fright than from actual harm.  Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he held her close until her shaking eased and she seemed to calm.  With a shuddering breath, she whispered, “I thank you, Sir, for the assistance!”

He turned in surprise at the sound, recognizing the voice.  “It is you!”

At his words, her head jerked up, her hazel eyes meeting his.  “Lord...Theodred, was it?”

“Yes, but I do not believe I caught your name.”

“I am Esgalmir, my lord. And I thank you for my rescue.”

“Please, call me Theodred. I was glad to be of assistance. It is little wonder you were overwhelmed.  I struggled myself in that mob.”  Suddenly realizing his words might sound rude, he blushed red.  “Forgive me, I did not mean...”

“No, that is all right. I am aware that I do not move well.”

She pulled from his arms and stepped away from him, but he caught her elbow.  “I...was just going to dinner.  Would you join me?  The crowd seems to have passed, and I should think you would be better acquainted with the inns of this city than I am.”

She eyed him somewhat hesitantly, not certain what to make of his request; was it the result of pity, an attempted apology for his rudeness, or something else?  If it was either of the first two, she could not discern it on his face.  He seemed completely straightforward, and at length she nodded slightly.  “Very well.  The Seven Bells is just a short distance from here.”  She gestured to the right of the alcove and he offered his arm to her, which she took politely, but kept her eyes averted.

They walked the now nearly deserted roadway in silence.  Despite the noon hour, with so many off to check the sale on the lower level, the inn was not as busy as usual and they had their pick of seats.  Theodred guided Esgalmir to a fairly secluded table near the fire, where it would be easier to hold a conversation.

Once they had ordered stew, bread and hot tea, they found themselves alone.  Uncomfortably, Esgalmir glanced about the room, checking to see if there was anyone she knew who might ask difficult questions later, but fortunately saw no one.  Forcing a smile, she turned to her companion, and said, “So, Theodred, what brings you to Minas Tirith, then?  You are a long way from home.”

She had thought the question a rather neutral one; safe ground to tread with a stranger. Instead, a look of intense pain flashed in the man’s eyes and he swallowed hard.  Quickly he closed his eyes and leaned back, balling his hands into fists, seeming to will himself to be calm and controlled, but whatever emotion had seized him would not readily be banished.

A surge of empathy went through her.  She had always considered herself a fine judge of character, and this was a good young man.  Despite his words spoken somewhat in haste earlier, he had not meant any offense, of that she was certain.  And something in his life was greatly amiss, causing him tremendous anguish of spirit.

“Theodred,” she said softly, “I do not know that I can be of any help, but I am willing to listen if you wish it.”  She laid a warm hand on his clenched fist, and almost against his will it began to relax somewhat.

continue reading on AO3:

              https://archiveofourown.org/works/46771651/chapters/119873518

[sebastianorion]

I’ve taken everything I could. There’s nothing left and worst of all, it hurts me. This dreadful place full of reminders everytime I go anywhere. Avoiding eye contact. Took notes on how to order for the week. Nervous but ready. Just afraid of permanent failure. Don’t know if I should be nervous. Scared to speak to your sister. Maybe because she seems so similar to you. Been thinking about how much I detest the beach. I already didn’t like it but you just made it worse. Maybe the next time I have some time off I’ll just leave. Just for a little while. Won't tell anyone. How long before they start the manhunt. How long until they notice. Until I’m found. They run into me and it turns out I was just hiding. Because I ran away. I’ll run away, shave my head, start a new job, act as crazy as usual, spend a lot of money on the lottery. Drink beer everyday. Get an RV trailer and just keep running. I’ve been trying to find out running from what but that would require me to stay still and let it see me. I’ve just barely seen the shape of its presence. Making up end of the world hypotheticals and politics of being a king. Chances of an heir, making a change, coming out on top. I bought my new notebook. An all black one, except the pages of course. Been sprinting to the end of this one. Working on my tag. Walking into fumbles and football talk. The world cup was a month ago. Olympics maybe like two years ago. I forget. Doesn't really matter, there will be another one, and one after that. I need to go back to school. Finish my degree. My book. My car. Need to stop driving myself so manic. Stop looking at other women. Looking for other women. SHould just get into a safe space and see what waits for me there. When I am here, I am full of impatience. Not much changes without me noticing at least. The ink dries fast, leaving a permanent impression, non washable. A chemical change. Matter unable to be displaced. SHould burn this page just to be sure. Set the whole book ablaze. Enticing, but it’d be a part of me embalmed in flames. A 4th dimensional break unable to be traversed back to again. Passing faces, something too nice to not get a second glance at. Working and working and working and working again. I am a man of my. You are driving down a long straight road you see no end to. Trees hang over the sky above you, the sun glints through the leaves as the branches sway from the wind. There are no roads connecting to the one you currently traverse. You are oddly familiar with this road, just not knowing where it ends. Recollecting parts of past memories, trying to make sense of this dream-like scenario. Corn and wheat fields surround you. Growing over the windows of the car, leaving you unable to see past the first row of crops. Just leaving you to wonder how big the expanse is beyond the ears and floating barley whipping back and forth. I am getting so tired of (fill in the blank) Getting more and more comfortable with the places that aren’t my home, my bed, my chair, my bathroom. Looking forward to work. Nothing out of the ordinary happens, nothing dramatic or unexpected could transpire into a menaginless mess. People come and go. Passing by passing faces that will forget me within the hour. A mother's burden, the weight of a child while being formed and afterwards. It’s my fault I started this, I was first. The first burden, I will not repeat that same mistake. I will get away from this.

[acourtofmenandthirst]

A New Male (Part II of II)

Rhysand's Sister!Reader x Eris

Holy fuck I am so sorry this took me so long! I should have made it three parts instead but I just wanted to finish it for you guys! I hope yall wanted soft Eris, because this is so mushy but I also love it

Again, timeline and character development not really canon, so just go with the flow! Here is Part I

Warnings: Mentions of character death, swearing, smut, Eris cares too much about fashion theory

Word Count: 13.5K

You unsurprisingly found yourself ending up in the Autumn Court again, dew clinging to the hem of your skirts and fog winding around your wrists. You’d followed the sunset from the gloomy Court of Nightmares, chasing the golden skies and beams of light kissing the clouds, a sight so often shielded with storm clouds in your home territory.

Wings tucked in tight behind you, you stepped over logs and maneuvered around muddy leaves, looking around, searching for a certain fireborne male. With your hair pinned nearly behind your head, only a few tendrils now slinging around your pointed ears, you craned your neck from side to side, eager to cover as much ground as you could, desperate to find your new friend. 

Those amber eyes found you first, though, from his spot perched on a thick tree branch spread high above you. He’d winnowed as soon as he noticed you in the court, wandering through the dense forest. He was quick to scent you, the faint oenothera and cool brisk night, even from his position just outside the Forest House. As his ears picked up on the sentries discussing the sudden intrusion, he quickly ordered them to stand down, ensuring he would investigate the trespasser. 

Don’t tell Beron.

Eris could not stress it enough. 

He’d winnowed his way through the woods, finding new hiding places until he decided he was finally close enough to you, perched up atop the highest tree branch, watching as you searched for him. It made his heart flutter, unable to stop the small smile that pulled at his lips. 

It didn’t hurt that you had donned your dress with the tightest bodice, corset pulled so tight that your chest was pressed against the fabric, pressing up toward your collarbones with every breath you took. 

And maybe you had done it on purpose. 

He winnowed down a few feet in front of you, tall, lean body hidden by the fog. He was quick to step out, though, perfectly in your path, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched in your throat, head stuck on a swivel, as you straightened your back, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.  

“Welcome back,” he mused, arms crossed over his chest, smirking hanging on his lips. 

Couldn’t stay away, you wished to say. “Happy to see my welcoming committee, once again,” you replied nonchalantly, dropping your shoulders in a shrug. 

Eris smiled, stepping closer to you. “I was beginning to wonder when I’d see you back in my Court.”

You returned the smile, praying to the Mother to hide the blush on your cheeks - or at least have him chalk it up to the cold evening air. It’s not like you’d counted how many days had passed since you’d last been to Autumn. 

But you were waiting for the exact moment when you could slip away and race back to the red haired male. 

Rhysand and your father had been called to the Illyrian camps unexpectedly. You’d been left with his larger friend in charge, the big brute that couldn’t go two hours without eating. You were able to coerce him into a dinner with your finest maids, the most beautiful ones you could find - them, and about twelve bottles of your father’s Faewine. 

You slipped out of your room not a moment too soon, and were able to catch the sunset on your flight to the Autumn Court. 

“Miss me that much?” Your voice was as smooth as that gods damned Night Court silk he despised so much. While he decided you didn’t look bad in it, actually quite pleased with how you looked barely wrapped in the dark material, he would much prefer to see you in something corduroy. 

Eris couldn’t suppress the chuckle that left his chest, a low rumble, yet such a boyish laugh. “Who else would I be able to share my family woes with?” He quirked an eyebrow in your direction. 

You nodded, suddenly remembering the weight your own family had been putting on your shoulders lately - and how much of a risk it truly was to see Eris. You bit your lip, looking around at the forest floor. Colorful leaves scattered the damp earth, clumps of mud and dirt caked at the bottom of the dying shrubbery. “No fire or knife throwing?” You asked, desperate to talk about anything other than your family - or his. 

Understanding of your conversational change, Eris strode to one of the fallen tree trunks, sitting on the dark bark. His legs spread slightly, dark pants stretched out, matching the dark blue suit jacket he wore. “Not tonight,” he replied, looking up at the sky. “Just out admiring the sunset.” A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

You nodded, strolling over to take a seat beside him. You held your wings up high, tightly pressed to your back, keeping them out of the mud and out of Eris’s way. “That’s what I was going to say,” you replied, with a small smile pulling at your lips. A white lie shared between friends, then. 

Without another word, Eris leaned backward, drinking you all in: the way your dress hugged your curves, accentuated your chest, nearly glowing under the setting sun. Your hair curled perfectly over your ears, exposing your long neck and shoulders. Your dark wings flexed behind you, held high by your immaculate posture, fit for a queen on her throne.

It was a sight Eris wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon.

Much to your dismay, as soon as you opened your mouth to make a snarky comment about the young heir apparent, your stomach growled, interrupting the near expired silence. You felt your cheeks burn, hand clenched to your stomach as you tried to laugh it off.

Eris laughed, too, a genuine one, showing how caught off guard he really was. “You okay there, little bat?”

You were simply on fire at that point. 

You huffed a laugh, forcing yourself to ignore his commentary - unable to decide if you liked the sound of it or not. “I skipped dinner,” you replied. Skipped dinner to escape Cassian in the Court of Nightmares, to find you. “And then the flight over here…” You had to travel across nearly all of Prythian to get there - not a small feat, especially not in the dress you wore, and not on an empty stomach. 

Eris rolled his eyes. “Nothing here worth skipping meals for.”

“You’ve eaten the Nightmare gruel before, no?”

Eris barked out a laugh, smiling broadly, eyes squinting at the corners. “As much as I’d love to remember the grey cuisine last time I was visiting,” he began, dropping a hand to your knee, over your thick skirts. “I’d much rather not.” With a glint in his bright shining eyes, his wide palm squeezed your leg. “Stay here.”

Before you could even question it, the male was gone, vanishing into nothing but thin air. You cursed yourself, cursed your father for not passing down the strong powers he gave to Rhysand to you as well. You could barely summon darkness as your brother did, much less winnow. You didn’t have the abilities to hide your wings like Rhys - whether he actively hid them or had to summon them through magic - you weren’t sure anybody really knew. 

If not for the fading orange sun, you wouldn’t be afraid. The sun set quickly here in Autumn, and you weren't sure how long you would be sitting there without Eris. 

Eris, on the other hand, scavenged through the Forest House kitchen. He would run himself ragged to find you something - opening cabinets and oven doors, searching for the perfect treat for you. He knew he couldn’t be gone long - he wasn’t sure how long you’d actually wind up waiting for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the apple crumble cooling on the windowsill. It was perfect. 

He lunged towards the window, stopping only to fix his jacket and run a hand through his messy hair, before he grabbed the dish and a spoon and winnowed back to you. 

Eris sat back on the large tree trunk, holding the warm dish between the two of you. 

Your eyes grew wide as you observed the dessert, chunks of apple drizzled with caramel and brown seasoning. The crumble on top was still steaming slowly, chunks of dough and oats and something that smelled so sweet. He held it out to you, which you graciously took.

“This isn’t going to be one of those old wivestales is it? The one they tell the children to scare them out of running away?” Your head tilted to the side, holding the delicate white baking dish in both hands. The sweet smell of sugar entrapped you. “Where if they eat the food from the mysterious land, they’ll be stuck there forever?”

Eris’s eyes washed over the smirk that played at your lips. His voice dropped an octave: “Would that be so bad?”

You shook your head quickly, wings shaking slightly behind you. Eris held the spoon out to you, watching you take it and scoop a hearty spoonful of the apple crumble, quickly taking it into your mouth. 

You could have moaned - never having tasted such a sweet treat. Solstice dessert came close, but no Night Court dish would have such depth, the tart apple with the big chunks of sugar and allspice flakes. You had heard legends about the infamous Autumn caramel, the viscous golden sugar that could be traded for bags of coins in the other courts. 

As you took a scoop of the chunky topping, you couldn’t help but notice how those red eyes watched you, a predator watching his prey, eating the sweet treat, only sweetening you up for his own tasting later.

Gods, and you wished he would. 

He knew you noticed him staring. He had nowhere else to look, really. No other sight would have his blood pumping like that: watching you lick the sticky sauce off your lips. 

He would forego a hundred years just to see that tongue of yours run across your lips. To watch as your eyes fluttered closed, nearly moaning at the taste. 

Your attention was all on him as you lifted the spoon to your lips. Caught in a trance, though, those fiery red eyes demanding all of your attention, a chunk of topping fell from your spoon, landing directly on your chest. Your eyes flitted downwards, you hadn’t expected nearly such a grand display on your end, the wide expanse of your pushed-up chest now the perfect plate for such a delicious treat.

Eris would agree - you were utterly appetizing. 

His eyes flicked back and forth, between your eyes, your lips, your chest. His fists were clenched at his sides and he forced himself to breathe calmly. Not one to besmirch a female’s reputation, he held himself back - stopped himself from reaching over and having a taste straight from the source.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, unable to raise his grating voice from the low tenner. “The amount of restraint I have around you.”

You huffed out a low breath, smirking at the poor male in front of you. You swiftly placed the dish down on the ground beside you, not taking your eyes off Eris as you simply plucked the chunk of dough up, holding it up in front of you. You tossed him a sultry smile as you held your hand out to him, but as soon as those lips parted, eyes burning with desire, you pulled back and placed the sugary chunk on your own waiting tongue. 

His jaw fell ever so slightly, watching as you reached back out for him, a droplet of caramel - one matching the smudge on your breast - lingering off your finger. You dragged your thumb across his bottom lip, earning a blink and a sigh from the male, as his tongue met your finger ever so gently. You brought your hand back to yourself, licking the remnants of the sauce from your thumb once again, as if tasting Eris instead. 

“What are you holding yourself back for?” You breathed, eyes wandering from his blazing red ones to his pink lips, looking so soft, still parted ever so slightly. “I know it’s not for my benefit.”

Eris willed his mouth shut, forcing a breath down his throat. “(Y/N).” Your name was a prayer, a plea, begging for salvation. “If you allow me to touch you, I am not sure if I will ever be able to stop.” 

Your heart lurched to your throat, stomach twisting in anticipation as you failed to come up with a response - nothing but his name on your lips as his hand reached upwards, tracing up the outside of your bare arm, eventually stopping at the back of your neck. 

Your eyes nearly fluttered at the contact, his warm palm against your cold skin. His fingers stretched the expanse of the back of your neck, from the top of your shoulder to between your shoulder blades. As he leaned forward, your head tilted back, mouth falling open with the softest sigh as his nose brushed against your cheek. He pressed forward, lips tracing the shell of your ear, but not offering you a kiss. You were drawn to him, to his heat, his smell, his touch. 

Eris watched you with hooded eyes, as your head fell back completely, offering him nothing but the open expanse of your chest and neck. You felt his breath tickle the corner of your jaw before he pulled away, dropping before you. His nose nuzzled against the freezing skin of your collarbone, lips pressed against your breast, straining against the top of your corset, begging to be set free. 

You released a shaky breath, one Eris vowed to never forget, as he kissed his way up your chest, across your cleavage, tongue flitting out to taste the rest of the sugar granules that lingered across your creamy skin. You arched upwards, pressing yourself further into him as your hand fell to the back of his head. Your fingers wound through those red locks, needing to cling to something - anything - to ground yourself. 

He followed your lead as you tugged him upwards gently. Eris, ever the minx, though, smirked as he continued his ministrations up your body, offering you small kisses as he worked his way up the column of your throat, nipping at your sensitive skin once he reached the corner of your jaw. You lurched with a soft gasp, hand winding farther around his head, holding him in place. 

“Eris,” you mewled, unable to open your eyes, to pull yourself away from relishing in the feeling of the male buried in the crook of your neck. “Please, Eris.” 

Music to his ears. 

His other hand moved from the death grip he held on your hip, up to cradle the free side of your face. He tilted your head forward, until you eventually opened your eyes to meet his, burning with desire. His cheeks were painted pink, red eyes hungry with desire. “Say please again, (Y/N),” he murmured, pulling himself from the warmth he spread across your torso, looking you straight on. 

You licked your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry, radiating with anticipation. “Eris - ” you didn’t miss how his chest huffed at the sound of his name, how he suppressed the groan that threatened to claw its way from his throat. “Please.”

His lips captured yours, so gently you weren’t sure if you would have to beg for him to really kiss you. With a sigh of contentment, like he had been waiting just as long as you had - as if delaying it wasn’t his own doing - his lips moved against yours. You leaned into him, deathgrip on his loose curls, pulling him ever so much closer to you. 

Before Eris could drag his tongue across that bottom lip of yours, the one you’d been biting all evening, his ears perked up, catching the faint howl of his dogs far on the outskirts of the forest. He sat straight, hands not dropping your head, focusing on the leering sentries. His eyes fell to yours; while his were riddled with alarm, you looked as though you’d seen a ghost, so petrified of what the High Lord of the Autumn Court would do if he found you in his court… whether he was friends with your father or not, you were trespassing. 

“You have to go,” Eris breathed, still afraid to let you go.

“I can’t keep coming back,” you replied, hand settling on his own, the one that still cupped your cheek. 

He nodded, disagreement the farthest thing from his mind. “Then I’ll come to you.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. The Court of Nightmares would notice the moment he crossed their borders, an Autumn male entering their territory without an invitation from the High Lord. He wouldn’t be safe in Velaris, either, not in the sleepy mountain town where he’d stick out like a sore thumb. No way he’d make it close enough without your father or brother noticing. 

“You have to go,” he whispered, thumb tracing your cheekbone. “I’ll find you.”

The dogs grew louder, the sound of the males shouting far in the distance encroaching closer and closer. Without so much as another look - another kiss - Eris pulled you up by your hips, hoisting you to your feet and turning you away from him. 

You took a few wobbly steps before stretching out your wings, taking off into the dead of night. 

________________________________

You’d made it back that evening before Cassian even noticed you were missing, still drinking with the young fawns obsessing over his every move. You shouldn’t have been surprised to hear him take a handful of them to bed later. 

The sounds alone echoed against the stone walls of your fathers estate, built into the side of the tall mountain. You laid awake in bed, half tucked under the covers, a plush pillow pressed over your head, trying to drown out the sound of the beastly male and the females crying out in pleasure. The jealous part of you wished that were you and Eris, perhaps hidden away deep in the Autumn woods, the males pointed nose buried in your neck again, or those soft lips between your legs. 

You’d pay an insurmountable amount of coins to hear that breathy moan fall from his lips, the low grumble from his chest as he licked his way across you breast. The thought alone had you pressing your legs together. 

You longed for his hands to roam the expanse of your body, that damned silk dress you’d worn just for his attention. Discarded in a pile of silk on your floor. Leave it to the Autumn sentries to interrupt you - though, you had heard rumors it was the most heavily guarded court, soldiers who would die to protect Autumn’s secrets and surely would kill anyone unexpected on their land. But the bloodhounds scared you more, no matter how many creatures you’d encountered in your own home court. Their well trained noses would track any being in their lands - no matter how small - razor sharp teeth that could tear them to shreds within the blink of an eye. 

You rolled over, kicking the thick blankets off of you, throwing a coat over your shoulders before running through the drawing room and launching yourself off the balcony. 

Your wings caught you, splayed out wide behind you, coasting along the quick breeze. You soared over the Sidra, watching the moonlight coast over the rippling waves, the midnight black water shining white in reflection. The trees whirled past, the sweet smell of pine and thick fog had nothing on what you’d seen in Autumn, the lingering smell of pumpkin and cinnamon still swirling in your nose. 

You banked back toward the mountain, gliding close to the cold rocks before spotting the small cave you so often found yourself at. You landed on your feet, on the stone that offered nothing more than a couple feet of space, before plopping yourself on the edge, legs dangling off the cliff. 

You adjusted the cloak over your shoulders, pulling it over your bare arms, those that Eris had been dragging his own fingers along not long ago, tracing a line of fire up your skin. You pulled the nightgown over your legs, thick socks s covering you near bare feet. The cool night but at you, but it was welcome, much needed to help you clear your head. 

No matter how hard you tried to shake off the thought of Eris, the feeling of his touch, the all too short time he spent with his lips against yours, his memory lingered - as did his touch, his warmth, his smell. 

Your wings prickled, goosebumps washing over your skin as you felt another approaching; Illyrian wings appearing far in the distance. You squinted, watching Rhys follow your own path, soaring high before dropping down on the edge of your little cliff. The one you two had been sneaking off to since you were young. When Rhys would take you flying, he often took you here, a nice resting spot while you were still too young and unable to fly for so long. 

You’d pushed him off the edge numerous times, giggling as he caught himself in the air, his boisterous laugh bouncing off the sides of the mountain, echoing in the valley below. 

“Figured I’d find you here,” he started, taking a seat beside you. His Illyrian leathers were matte under the stark moonlight. Clothes he so rarely wore recently. Not since his time in training, since your mother had been with him at the camp. 

“Your friend is quite loud,” you replied flatly, staring down at the rocks below. 

Rhys grumbled. “I’ll have to talk to him about that.” You hoped he wasn’t peering into Cassian’s mind, catching him at such an intimate moment. 

“You’re back sooner than expected… is father at home?”

Rhys nodded. “We left Azriel in charge of the Illyrians, you know father couldn’t stand being there any longer than he had to.” 

You frowned, unfortunately unable to forget your fathers cruel behavior at the war camps. How he’d demand public punishment, chaining the males up for their lashings, demanding the other soldiers to watch in warning. 

Something your poor mother would have had to watch, had she not been taken from her family to marry the High Lord. 

“You smell like…” Rhys trailed off, dipping his head closer to your hair. “Burning? What is that?” His brows furrowed, washing over your face in worry, looking for any singed skin, any signs of injury. 

But it was Eris, you smelled like him, just from your brief moment together; like bonfire, burning embers, like that sweet caramel. You shook your head at your brother, brushing it off. “I was attempting something in the kitchen… didn’t quite pan out.” You shrugged at him, hoping it was enough to buy it. 

Either Rhys was not as well trained in sensing smells as he thought, or he simply hadn’t spent enough time with the Autumn heir to pinpoint his scent. Either way, you were grateful. 

 “Father wants to have another ball in the Court of Nightmares,” Rhys said, thankfully changing the subject. “Something to celebrate the birth of Keir’s daughter.” He pressed his lips together, exhaling harshly through his nose. 

“You think Keir is putting him up to it?” You asked, knowing your uncle all too well, ready to draw all the attention to himself, a mask celebrating his new daughter, the blonde babe only a few weeks old. 

Rhys held back whatever he was to say. Whatever he was going to say about his father’s plans for her - but Rhysand swallowed down the thought.  “Probably,” he sighed. 

Your eyes washed across the grey rock, small stones dropping off the cliff edge with each gust of wind. Nobody liked the Court of Nightmares, it was ruled in a constant state of terror, it’s own citizens miserable. You weren’t sure if it was your father or his brothers fault, but neither seemed in a hurry to improve living conditions there. Though the parties were often glamorous, the various courts were too often displeased to travel to the gloomy underworld. 

But at least you’d get to see Eris sooner than either of you hoped. 

________________________________

The red dress you chose was a bit more suited to the Nightmare style, much more fitted and tighter than your usual skirts. Your mother was never a fan of the less is more style of the gloomy court. 

Your father, on the other hand, didn’t understand why you needed to have that silk dyed into a burgundy, the same dark red that matched Eris’s hair. The exact color you knew would drive the territorial male wild. 

The maids had done your hair up much like that last time you saw him, but you opted for the high neckline that drew the eye up the long expanse of your throat. The rest of the dress was tight, pulled taught against your bodice and hips, a long slit showing off only one of your toned legs - gods bless the Illyrian gene. 

Eris thought the exact same thing when he saw you. Taller than most of the pure Night Court females, and no doubt more intimidating with your wings arched high at your back, he watched you move gracefully across the dance floor, greeting friends and flirting with random males. 

You felt Eris’s gaze burning into you, after all, he stood nearly a whole head over the Spring Court male he was pretending to converse with. The Vanserras had dispersed throughout the room, red hair scattered, most flocking to the Night and Day Court females, both of which wore next to nothing. 

Cassian appeared at your side, earning a sigh from you, as he attempted to stare down the Autumn male. “What’s with the stick up his ass,” he grumbled, stepping just in front of your line of sight. He smirked down at you, arms crossed over his wide chest. 

You rolled your eyes, turning to walk toward the table with the Faewine - Mother knew you’d need it. “That color looks lovely on you, (Y/N),” he continued, falling into step beside you. “Wore it just for me?” You knew he was taking the piss, but you couldn’t help but drop your eyes to the bright red siphons on the backs of his hands. He’d earned four thus far, but your brother promised him and Azriel many more once he became High Lord. 

“You must be colorblind, Cassian,” you sighed, brushing it off. He laughed, tilting his head back toward the crowd to find the Vanserra. “Or maybe your more full of yourself than I gave you credit for.”

Cassian took it as a compliment, the cocky male smiling broadly down at you. As you pressed through the mass of Fae, finally finding the wine, your eyes fell onto a pale hand, extending a glass of purplish liquid out to you. You pressed your lips together to suppress the smile that laced your mouth, bright eyes gleaming up at Eris, who, in turn, beamed down to you. 

Cassian made haste to snatch the glass, but you beat him to it, taking the cup in both hands and thanking Eris for the drink. “Pleasure to see you again, Lady (Y/N).”

You almost laughed at the formality, so out of place on the male’s tongue. 

“None for me?” Cassian mocked, eyes wandering up and down the Autumn male, sizing him up. Eris stood a few inches taller than him, glaring down at the Illyrian from under his eyelashes. He stood lean, unable to match Cassian’s muscular build. You weren’t convinced either was I dominated by the other. 

“You have two capable hands, no?” Eris seethed, gaze finally falling back to you, giving you a similar up-and-down. His red eyes lingered on your long leg, your hips and the curve of your breast, hidden beneath the dark red fabric. 

Cassian grumbled a response, glaring at the male as his eyes washed over you. Your cheeks heated, uncomfortable with the third-party viewer, standing so close to the two of you, when all you could think about was Eris’s hands tracing that same path down your body. 

When Eris’s hand fell to the small of you back, warm fingers brushing against the smooth silk of your dress, Cassian’s eyes flitted to Azriel, who was already halfway across the room making his way toward you. You called to Rhys, testing his newly flourishing daemati power. 

Control your guard dogs, you hissed toward him, once you felt his tallon drag down your mental shields just enough. 

They’re protecting you. I don’t need that Autumn filth touching you like that. 

I don’t need them watching my every movement, either. Tell them to leave me alone. You shut him out of your mind without waiting for a response, eyes falling to Rhys across the room, hanging onto every word Tamlin said. You narrowed your eyes at him, once those indigo ones flitted to you momentarily. 

With a roll of his eyes and subtle shake of his head, he glanced toward his two friends, undoubtedly telling them to back off. He turned back to Tamlin as Cassian and Azriel glanced at each other before reluctantly turning to find someone else to bother. “Be careful, (Y/N),” Cassian offered you as he joined his friend. 

“Quite the posse you’ve gotten yourself here,” Eris stated, watching the males walk away with their tails tucked between their legs. 

You leaned into his touch every so slightly, enough to go unnoticed to everyone except the two of you. His hand flattened against your back, fingers splaying over the top of your ass. 

“Eris,” you warned, turning to face him. You didn’t see your father in the crowd, fearful he would find you and Eris standing too close for his liking. Eris was worried about the same thing, actually, but he was too distracted to care about what his father might think about it. 

“Dance with me?” He asked, turning you toward the dancing area, where the orchestra had just begun testing their instruments. 

Your hand fell to his arm, holding his thick bicep through the heavy fabric of his brown jacket. “I don’t want to dance.”

Fire flashed in his eyes and his jaw set as he stared down at you in complete understanding. “Then lead the way.”

You had to force breath in your lungs, not used to the way his voice dropped when he spoke so quietly to you. His words rattled in your bones. 

Taking hold of his hand still behind your back, you brought it around your hip, holding it there, fingers sliding between his. You made your way through the crowd, following the perimeter of the room to avoid as many onlookers as possible. 

All you could think about was his lips pressed against your chest, hands following the curve of your bodice as he held you in the woods. 

Eris, with something similar on his mind, followed you quietly, glaring at any onlookers who watched your swift exit. He bared his teeth at his younger brothers, whooping far off in the crowd, smiling as the heiress of the Night Court led their brother into her bed chambers. 

As soon as you left the ballroom, sneaking through the servant’s exit into the hallway, Eris twisted you around in his arms, holding you firmly by the waist and pulling you flush against his front. His head swooped down to your, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, unable to wait any longer. 

Your hands rose immediately to his face, holding his cheeks as you opened your mouth and made to devour him. Fingers rising to curl through his hair, you pressed yourself into him and allowed him to lean forward more, all the way until he backed you into the wall. 

You pulled his hair, grasping at the stands to pull him down more, smashing your lips against his. He groaned, hands splaying down your back to your ass, grabbing your upper thighs and pulling you up against the wall, pinned to his torso. Your legs immediately wrapped around him, ankles crossing behind his back. The both of you were immensely grateful for that slit in your dress, allowing you to mold yourself completely to his front. 

Your arms wound around his neck, locking him against you, letting him sloppily kiss you, and run his tongue against your bottom lip. With a sigh, you granted him access, not caring how messy the kiss was, or who happened to see. 

Eris, apparently disagreeing with the latter, squeezed your ass in his palm, stepping away from the wall, holding you to his chest. “Where am I taking you?” He whispered against your lips. 

Gods, right here. Right now. When you didn’t respond fast enough, still enamored with his mouth on yours, he smacked your ass, earning a yelp and small jerk against his front. You rubbed yourself against him slightly, arching your back to press your chest to his, pulling back just enough to stare into his lust filled eyes. “My room.”

“Okay and…” He sighed, dipping his head to meet the side of your neck, just under where your jaw met your neck. He licked a broad stripe over your sensitive skin, evoking chills down your spine. You gripped the back collar of his jacket to steady yourself as his sharp white teeth sunk softly into your flesh. “Where would that be?”

You sighed against him, wishing there wasn’t as many layers of clothes between you. “That way.” You lazily hung an arm out behind you, pointing down the grand hallway. Eris placed a sloppy kiss to your neck as he began his journey, easily carrying you through the empty halls. 

He carried you through the cold corridors, following your breathless directions as you planted wet kisses across his jawline. He burned hot, something you chalked up to the fire flowing through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to take you in the middle of the hallway, especially as he felt you bouncing against his dick as he half-ran up the stairs to your bedroom, your warm cunt rubbing against the front of his pants. 

“Left,” you whispered, kissing against his ear and he approached one of the final doors. He kicked open the heavy mahogany door easily, letting you reach a hand behind him and slam it shut. 

Without letting you go, his lips found yours again, messier than before, one hand framing your face to tilt your head perfectly opposite of his so he could devour you. 

He ever so slowly dragged himself to the bed, where he knelt on the mattress and laid you against the plush blankets and mountain of pillows. Your wings stretched out behind you side to side, and Eris’s eyes moved from left to right, taking it in. “Is that comfortable?” You nodded, and barely unhooked your legs from him, just enough so he could lean before you, pulling away only to drink you in. 

The most beautiful female he’d ever seen, there laying under him, waiting for him to take her oh so slowly. Eris never thought he had good karma, but that night he felt like the luckiest male in the world. 

His hand ran down your front, from your neck to your chest, over the curve of your breast and down your stomach, along that bare thigh. He breathed your name, a sigh of relief, finally able to continue what he’d started in the woods. 

He brought his hand up to your face, thumb brushed over your cheekbone as he dropped his other hand opposite of your head, positioning himself over you. Eris leaned in so slowly, pressing a careful, soft kiss to your waiting lips. 

It was the kiss he intended to have that first time, so slow and perfect. You hummed against him, hands circling around his neck again and curling in his hair. You broke only for breath, for a split second before capturing each other’s lips again. 

You quickly tired of his patience, of that carefully planned out kiss, instead pulling him further into you, legs tightening around him. He didn’t flatten against the mattress until you’d pulled yourself up to meet him, your core pressed into him as he hovered over the mattress. 

He chuckled against your lips, pinching your ass before he fully dropped to the plush covers, leaning his weight into you. Your arms wined down his torso, nails raking against the sewn embellishments on the front of his jacket. 

“This needs to come off,” Eris breathed, lips moving to skin over the flushed skin under your jaw. His hands fell over your hips, unable to keep still, dragging from your waist to your hips, curling around to hold the soft flesh of your ass that was pressed against the mattress. 

“Say please, Eris,” you mewed breathlessly, much like he had said during your last encounter in the Autumn forest. Your hands waded through his hair and down his back, desperate to pull him closer to you. 

He sighed heavily, dragging his lips up the side of your jaw, kissing his way up under your ear. His tongue dragged up the shell of your ear as he pressed his cock into you, grinding against you through your thin dress. You let out a shaky breath, wishing you’d made him disrobe before climbing over you. His lips touched your ear as he whispered his plea. “Please, (Y/N).” 

You moaned, opening your legs wider for him to settle between, for him to press his cock against your aching core. His hand ran down your leg, exposed from the slit cut all the way up to your hip. His fingertips barely touched you, yet left a wake of fire in their path. His hand found purchase under your ass, where he pulled you upward, impossibly closer to him as he continued his desperate movements, rutting against you. “Please.”

You picked your head up from the mattress, hands sliding across his chest to push him off of you. He sat up immediately, though not dropping his hands from your backside. You stared at him, through half lidded eyes as you reached your arms over your head behind you, unfastening the few buttons at the back of your neck, holding the collar of your dress together. 

As you worked your way down, Eris’s hands fell from your ass and instead joined your own hands, moving back so you could sit up and he could unfasten the remaining buttons. His long arms stretched behind you, giving you the perfect opportunity to work on the layers of hooks and buttons lining the front of his suit. 

The golden hooks were quick to unfasten, and you pushed open his suit jacket so it hung loosely off his shoulders and you made haste on the white shirt underneath. Eris’s movements slowed as he became distracted with your work. You pulled the cotton material, untucking it from his tailored brown trousers, finishing off the rest of his buttons. 

Your fingers danced down the pale skin of his abdomen, tracing the muscle lines down under his bellybutton, along the faint pale hairs that led into those thick pants. As you pulled at the ends of his white shirt, your knuckles brushed against the bulge in his pants, grazing his throbbing cock underneath however many more layers. 

His eyes fluttered closed, lips parted just slightly as you stared up at him, the beautiful male in your bed, desperate for your touch. His hands were frozen behind you, one palm curling around you, laying flat against your collarbone and the curve of your throat, gripping your shoulder. The other held a death grip on the soft fabric behind your back, the only other thing grounding him to you. 

Your fingers traced the outline of his cock, around the swell until you found yourself back at the hem of his trousers. You brushed against his shaking skin, muscles trembling beneath you as you hooked your fingers inside his pants, making your way to unfasten the button and pull him free. 

But a knock sounded at the door. 

Eris snapped out of his trance, head swiveling to the door, unsure of whether your visitor would be entering the room, too. 

Azriel, who undoubtedly knew what you were doing and exactly who you were doing it with, offered you a merciful knock and warning. “Make yourself decent before your brother barges in.”

You prayed to all the gods that he wasn’t watching with those forsaken shadows. 

“Fuck,” you hissed, pulling your hands away, buttoning the back of your dress together again. Eris dropped his hands to his front, hastily closing all of his garments and falling back to sit on the bed before you. 

Eris watched you as he then clambered off the bed, standing before you just in time for Rhys to push past Azriel and into your room. You shoved your legs out in front of you, sitting behind Eris, making sure your dress was placed to cover all of your exposed areas. “Get the out,” you called, pressing your hands against the silk of your dress. 

“You’re talking to him, right?” Rhys mocked, staring at the wild-haired Autumn male. “If he touched you, (Y/N), Cauldron help him - ”

You stood behind Eris, who shuffled aside to make room for you to face your brother. “Shut up, Rhysand. I’m not a child - ”

Cassian burst into the room, Azriel slithering in beside him, both of them flanking your brother. 

The trio of purity, apparently. 

“So you think you can fuck this Autumn scum?”

Before you could bite back a response to your unwelcome brother, Cassian was desperate to chime in, interested in landing some blows on the male beside you. Azriel’s expression remained neutral, bored even. His shadows skidded across the floor, swirling around Eris’s ankles. 

“Betrothed Autumn scum,” Cassian added with a grin. 

You couldn’t stop your head from whipping to the side, staring up at Eris, whose eyes were wide with surprise. “Betrothed?” You whispered, mouth hanging open ever so slightly, wings shuddering behind you. Your stomach dropped to your feet, a dull ache forming in your chest with each heartbeat. “You knew you were promised to someone else and you still…” you couldn’t raise your voice, couldn’t finish what you were about to say, even. 

“I wasn’t going to marry her - I already told my father - ” Eris’s hand reached up from his side to grab your hand, to hold you as he continued his story. 

You barely moved, only enough to curl your arms behind your back. You continued to stare up at the male, the one who had touched you, who kissed you, who was prepared to beg for you, all while knowing you could never be his, and he yours. His red eyes burned into yours, brows knit, pleading for you to hear him out - how he already told his father he’d never marry that female. That he’d sooner leave the Autumn Court than take her as his wife, his Queen. 

“Marry who?” Rhys asked, his own eyebrows pulled taught in insincerity. He was nearly giddy with anticipation. 

Eris’s eyes traveled slowly across the room, afraid to leave yours, already brimming with tears, instead to meet your brother’s sparkling eyes. If looks could kill, Rhysand would have fallen then and there. But the Autumn male refused to answer, instead his jaw clenched, fire burning at his palm where it hung in the air, still reaching out to you. 

You paid no mind to the smoldering before you, to the sparks that very well could have burned the room down, should Eris will it. Your head swiveled to Cassian, smirking at Eris, head tilted back in pleasure with the knife that is about to be wielded through Eris’s heart. Rhysand didn’t smile, but the gleam in his eye and twitch at the corner of his mouth made you want to slap it off his face, even though you had a mind to slap Eris twice as hard. It was Azriel who spoke, though, the man of few words suddenly finding his footing. His head was tilted forward so that the darkness cascading through the room covered those bright hazel eyes, causing him to become one with the night. And ever the Shadowsinger, his knowledge was unmatched. “Morrigan.”

Eris flinched, blinking so slowly, so afraid to direct his attention back to you. 

Baby Morrigan. 

He was betrothed to your cousin. She was set to grow up, groomed especially for the Autumn heir, and marry him the moment she turned eighteen. You clenched your stomach, fumbling a step backward, unable to stop yourself from heaving over, bent at the waist. Eris jutted a hand out to catch you, to which your eyes were immediately drawn to. Your wings flared out behind you, for balance, but also in pure Illyrian instinct, scaring away the approaching predator. 

You held your stomach, twisting and churning, shaking your head rapidly, frowning, unable to meet his pleading eyes. You shut your own eyes, praying no tears slipped through as you turned, wings high, back facing him as you made to throw up on the floor. 

You didn’t want to imagine those hands on you, those hands meant for your cousin in some sick scheme his father and your uncle - and probably your father - had come up with. 

Rhysand took his opportunity to launch himself at the male, unstopped by Cassian and Azriel. He threw himself at Eris, who was caught off guard, attention still drawn to you. Rhysand landed his fist directly against his face, causing both of them to go tumbling to the ground. 

Cassian extended a hand toward you, which you took, holding yourself up. He held you in place, stopping you from falling onto the ground and heaving your guts. His other hand fell to your back, just below your wings, as he guided you out of the room, leaving Azriel supervising the brawling males, should Eris pull his unfair advantage and use his fire against Rhys. 

You knew the two Illyrians would have jumped in already if it truly was a battle to the death. It was something meant between your fathers and uncle, something they’d have to deal with later. 

But honestly you didn’t care if they killed each other. Eris, the male who’d known he was to be married, knew exactly who he was expected to marry, and still touched you; still had taken you to your own bedroom begging to fuck you. Rhysand, you knew wasn’t innocent, using this information - that he knew for gods knew how long - against you, meant to hurt Eris but not caring how much it would hurt you. 

________________________________

You hadn’t gone back to your bedroom after that, after Cassian had led you to the library to calm down. He’d sat you down on the sofa, watching from a few steps away as you dropped your head in your hands, elbows propped on your shaking knees. Your stomach curled, flopping as you sucked in air, willing yourself not to vomit. 

Unsure of when the two fighting males would give up on their fight, you left for Velaris. You had told Cassian you needed some time to sort through your thoughts and sent him back to make sure the heirs didn’t kill each other - that, and inform the both of them to leave you alone once they inevitably cooled off. 

Eris, you knew would never find Velaris - he could search the entirety of the Night Court and he’d never find you, simply just lose the trace of your scent in the mountains. Rhysand, on the other hand, would find you immediately. With Cassian relaying your message, you knew you’d only bought yourself a few days. 

You had no interest in speaking with him, to see the bruises on his face and the messy black hair you imagined Eris had singed with his fire. He crawled into your mind, knocking gently on your mental shields, leaving when you wouldn’t let him in. He left you to spend a week in Velaris, Azriel sending word that Rhys told your father you were visiting Velaris to see some old friends. 

You stayed inside the townhouse, bundled up in your dark bedroom for a few days. You could barely manage to light the hearth, the warm fire that heated the cozy room quickly. The crackling wood reminded you of Eris, of his temperament and quick wit. But staring at the orange flames licking at the darkness only made your heart sink. 

His smell wrapped around you, the oak burning and swirling through the small room. You imagined his arms around you, wrapped up in the Autumn forest, red and orange and brown leaves falling beside you. You wished you could show him Velaris, hide him away in your little home, the one that hadn’t seen another visitor since your mother, since she passed so long ago. You wished you still wanted to show him Velaris. You wished you could look into those burning eyes - those that haunted your sleep - without the wave of nauseousness crashing over you. 

When you’d grown tired of laying around, not eating or drinking, you’d ventured out through the snow to the small cafe in the Rainbow, making light conversation with the passing citizens of Velaris. The second you sat down in the small shop, and not a moment too soon, the Shadowsinger plopped down across from you, glaring at you under his eyelashes. 

“So you have been watching me,” you muttered over the rim of your mug, sipping the hot chocolate slowly. 

He offered you a shrug, dropping his hands to his lap. “Following orders,” he replied, voice low and quiet. 

“My brother’s or my father’s?”

He leveled your gaze, wings perched up and stead behind him. “Does it matter?”

You gave him the same shrug he graced you with. “And what message have you come to deliver from them?”

“None,” he said, leaning forward, reaching into the chest pocket on his leathers, pulling out a neatly folded letter. The white envelope remained sealed, the wax crest of the Autumn Court fully intact along the paper opening. He slid it across the table, carefully watching as your eyes fell to the letter in his scarred hand. 

You bit your lip, afraid to touch the paper. “You came to personally deliver this letter?”

Azriel stifled a sigh, falling back into his chair. “This is the latest one. There’s a mountain more that had been hand delivered to the Court of Nightmares, no doubt all begging an audience with you.” You didn’t miss the humor in his voice, the lack of surprise that laced his tone. 

“I’ve only been gone a week,” you replied, picking up the letter, fingertip grazing over the hardened red wax. “Why did you give this to me?” Your eyes lifted to the Shadowsinger’s hazel ones, focused on you from across the table.

“I know you weren’t there or aware, even, of the deal that transpired between the Night Court and Autumn Court,” he began, words chosen carefully. “But I think it would behoove you to hear the story from his perspective.” You rolled your eyes at the Illyrian, offering him nothing but a hefty exhale. “And then let Rhysand tell you what transpired.” 

He spoke as if the stories differed, as if Azriel knew what had happened in both of the separate conversations. Perhaps being the Spymaster of Night Court had its perks, the unlimited access to information, the truth and lies that were traded between courts. Maybe Azriel was truly the only one with all of the information. “Because Rhysand will tell me something different than Eris?” You asked innocently - stupidly, perhaps.

The Shadowsinger stood, wings flitting out ever so slightly as he made to leave. “I had eyes on Vanserra after he left the Court of Nightmares,” he stated simply, as if it were nothing but normal. “He’s beside himself with guilt. Nearly got himself killed by returning to his father after what Rhys and Cassian did to him.” Your stomach lurched, unable to imagine the injury those two Illyrians would have inflicted on him. “He’s a good male.”

You peered up at the tall male, mouth running dry at those unexpected words. “And what - you aren’t going to hate him just because Rhysand does?” 

Azriel stared back, and just before leaving the cafe he said, “You deserve the truth, at least, (Y/N).”

________________________________

You’d thrown the letter into the fire. 

After making your way back to the Court of Nightmares, back to the cold stony walls of your father’s estate, you sent word to call to Eris. Your sentry escorted the male to your Court the next day, an offer he hadn’t thought twice about accepting. 

You’d worn your finest gown, a long black dress that pooled around your shoes, but was buttoned all the way up your neck. The fabric itself was as dark as your wings, black corset ensuring you sat tall and intimidating. You waited for Eris in the throne room, perched atop your father’s dark chair, a metal crown placed atop your head, jewels lacing your covered neck. 

The heiress of the Night Court, unafraid of the fiery Autumn male, not intimidated, not to be pushed around, not going to back down. 

Your guard led him into the room, hand placed on his sword, announcing his entrance. “My lady (Y/N), Eris Vanserra of the Autumn Court.” 

You peered down at him from the top of the throne, dropping only your eyes to the male, as you held your chin high and shoulders back. Your hands gripped the edges of the arm rests, though, as you willed yourself not to shake. You kept your wings outstretched behind you - the epitome of Nightmare. You nodded at the sentry, dismissing him, leaving you and Eris alone in the stone room. 

His gaze did not waver from you. He was nervous, of course, unsure of if you’d let him speak, and if you would even believe him should you hear him out. Never having seen you as powerful, he was prepared to drop to his knees and bow to you, the powerful female of Night. 

Despite the week of healing, you still saw the bruise under his eye, purple fading into yellow, and the still healing cuts along his bottom lip and cheekbone. It was truly a testament to how badly Cassian and Rhys had hurt him - that, or perhaps Beron, dealing out an additional punishment once he returned home already beaten. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice cracking despite the low volume. 

“Considering your attempts to reach me,” you began, leaning toward where he stood before you. “I would think you had something important to tell me.” He swallowed, throat bobbing beneath the tall collar of his sweater. You waited for him to nod, then continued. “I don’t want you to explain that night - ” your stomach turned and your heart hammered in your chest as you remembered how your brother’s friends delivered the news. How it rocked you to your core, the most unexpected news that disgusted every ounce of your being. “ - how long have you known?”

You couldn’t hold back the bite in your tone, and Eris all but flinched. His shoulders sagged a bit as he held his hands up in surrender, taking two steps closer to you. Those tall riding boots clanged against the cold floor, echoing in the hollow room. “I knew my father had been planning on making arrangements for my marriage - he’d been planning it since the day I was born. He had meetings in secret with your father, ones that I was not privy to.”

You let out a slow breath, narrowing your eyes at the male before you. “How long have you known?”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, holding himself back from holding his hands out toward you. As your sparkling eyes narrowed at him, the darkness from the corners loomed closer, strangling the light in the room. He took a nervous step closer to you, away from the pure night that cascaded around him. “Beron has planned for me to marry a different female - gods only know who - but your father disagreed. It was Keir who stepped in and - ”

“Eris,” you interrupted. 

“I’ve known since before you came to the Autumn woods, that very first night.” He did jut out a hand, still too far to reach you. “But I didn’t know who until just before the ball.” You bit your bottom lip, swallowing the words that threatened to pour out of your throat, willing away the tears that pricked the back of your eyes. At your silence, Eris panicked, filling the silence with more explanation. “I was going to tell you (Y/N), I swear it - that night, I was going to tell you everything. I wouldn’t go through with it.”

You nodded numbly. “Yet you didn’t.”

Eris inched closer, knee bent and foot propped on the first step on the landing up towards the throne. He ran a hand through his messy curls, the frustration clear on his face. “I know and it’s my fault but I saw you in that godsdamned dress and I just couldn’t. I would have after if they hadn’t barged in.”

After. Gods, you wanted to be so mad at him. So mad for his intention to bed you even with the knowledge of his betrothal. And with who. You wanted to be mad, but couldn’t help the butterflies that swirled in your stomach at the thought of him pressing you into the mattress, fucking you until all you could remember was his name. You pressed your legs together at the memory of his cock dragging against your core, even through the thin silk of your dress. Thankfully, your current gown was puffy enough that you thought he missed your subtle movement. 

He didn’t. 

Eris took another step closer, climbing up two steps at a time as he reached the top of the landing. It was then he who was peering down at you, standing taller than the back of the throne itself. “(Y/N),” he whispered, taking a knee before you. He pulled your left hand from the arm of the chair, the last lifeline you had to the real world. Darkness swirled around both of you, pure sparkling night to keep out any leering eyes and ears. His large pale hands cupped yours, warmth leeching your cool skin. “I would never marry her. I told my father - told your father - ” 

Your eyes flashed, a gasp parted your lips. Your father. It may have been him that had beaten Eris for disobeying his order, for ruining his plan to tie the courts together. Gods, it could have been the both of them - two mighty High Lords wielding their powers against the near defenseless male. 

“I told them I wouldn’t marry her. (Y/N),” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to each of the knuckles on the back of your hand. “I won’t listen to them.” With a final kiss, he brought his glowing eyes back up to yours. “I’ll leave my whole court for you. I need you - and only you.”

You stared at him, level with those hypnotizing red eyes, flames of burning passion pouring into you. He leaned into you, free hand curling around the back of your head, cheek brushing your thumb as he tilted your head. “I missed you dearly,” he whispered. “The most painful week of my life.”

You raised your other hand up to his face, holding his jaw in your palm. Your thumb traced the cut on his cheek, the nearly healed mark on his upper lip. He smiled ever so slightly as you traced over his lip, taking in all the damage that had been inflicted on the male. “I can see that,” you replied dryly, voice barely audible. 

He shook his head gently, not enough to disturb your hand pressed ever so lightly against his face. “No,” he breathed. He lifted your hand, still clasped together in your lap, and held your open hand against his chest. “In here, (Y/N). And I swear I won’t let them keep us apart anymore.” Eris pressed his lips against your palm. 

You pulled your hand away from him, off that soft corduroy, and held the other side of his face. Without any more hesitation, Eris bent forward and captured your lips with his. 

________________________________

You went to find Rhys later that night, once you’d sent Eris on his way back to Autumn. You didn’t want to dwell on it for too long, despite how much you missed the taste of his lips and that bonfire smell that laced his skin. 

You heeded Azriel’s advice to hear Rhysand’s side of the story, hoping he would at least make more sense of the situation. And you’d been ignoring your brother for most of the time that you’d been back in the Night Court. “Nice of you to stop by,” he said once you walked into his bedchamber, finding him propped up at his desk, nose buried in a pile of books. 

You rolled your eyes, of course he was already keen to start a fight. “I could do us both a favor and just leave,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Rhys shut the book he was looking at and stared up at you, dark eyes exactly like your father’s. “You took it the wrong way - ”

“Wrong way, Rhys, really? Was there a right way to take that news? That you thought would be so funny to let Azriel and Cassian deliver?”

Rhys failed to suppress the smile that leached up on his lips, reminiscing in the memory of his friends delivering that blow to Eris. He shook his head, frowning a bit to hide the smile. “It wasn’t meant to be funny, it was meant to keep him away from you. I told you to stay away from him, didn’t I?”

You stared at your brother in his I told you so power trip. “You could have told me beforehand instead of barging into my room like that.”

“I wasn’t expecting to but when Azriel told me he was in your room alone with you I had no other choice, (Y/N). You should be thanking me for keeping him away from you.”

You scoffed, eyes widening. “First of all, you did nothing to keep him away from me. And secondly, I don’t even want to be away from him - ”

“I did more than you know,” he muttered, eyes flitting back to the pile of papers on his desk. When you stared at him, waiting for him to continue, he stood, mirroring your position, arms crossed and glaring at you. “For all you know, you would have ended up stranded in the Autumn Court married to that fool.”

You weighed each word carefully, unsure what to even say. 

Married to that fool. 

Married. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, dropping your head in your hand, fingers rubbing at your forehead. “So you let them go and offer him baby Morrigan instead?” You were nearly yelling at him, the mountain of information swirling in your head, unable to hear yourself even think, let alone speak. 

Rhys was near flabbergasted. “I didn’t know Keir would get into the mix - for fuck’s sake they would have taken your wings! It’s the Autumn Court, (Y/N), they’re sick! I would have dealt with her later, I have eighteen years to do it! You didn’t have time - but now you do. I ensured it - you can find someone here, stay here where you’ll be safe.”

“Keeping me here is not keeping me safe, Rhysand,” you replied, leveling your gaze at him. “I’m a fucking prisoner here. You never let me fly, you forbid me of seeing any other courts - I’m bored here, I’m so sick of it here - ” your voice dropped. “Nothing’s been the same since mom died. And trying to pretend nothing happened, keeping everything exactly the same…” you sighed. “It’s not working, Rhys.”

He stood unmoving and unwavering, processing your words. “You have to trust me, (Y/N).”

You shouldn’t have been surprised he still thought he was right, the male had never thought of himself being in the wrong before. “I do but you have to trust me.” 

With that, you turned on your heel, gathering up your skirts and leaving his room. He didn’t try to stop you - he’d be dumb if he couldn’t figure out where you were headed. 

You made a pit stop in your bedchamber, removing your long heavy dress for a short, thin shift, hidden under a long wool coat. You dove off the balcony without a second thought, dropping off the cliff amongst the cold air. Half of you almost didn’t want to stretch out your wings, instead just disappear into the fog collecting in the dark valley. 

But the other half of you called to Eris, to the warm fire and colorful leaves. 

You flew faster than you ever had, the cold wind nipping at your ears and biting your cheeks. Rhysand’s words rang in your head, about your planned marriage to Eris. Surely you would have felt different about the male, had you been introduced to him as your betrothed. On the other hand, you wondered if Eris knew you were set to be married. That would have been something he’d have told you today - you prayed to the Mother you were right. 

You weren’t going to slow down, not as you rushed through the mountains and through the cold air of Winter. You didn’t stop until you saw the red trees approaching, until you smelled the sweet cinnamon in the air and the burning logs in the distance. You didn’t stop, even as Rhysand’s words rattled around your head: they would have taken your wings. 

Eris met you the minute you landed, winnowing to your spot in the woods - the clearing you’d last met at. He pulled you straight into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest and running his hand through your loose hair. His warm palm hovered over your ear, warmth swirling through your bloodstream. You sighed into him, his warm spiced scent wrapping around you. 

“We can’t stay here,” he whispered, lips brushing against your forehead as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “The guards are looking for you - they were onto you the moment you crossed the border.”

You turned up to face him, unable to unwrap your arms from where they were clasped behind his back. Your wings ached, chest heaving with desperation for air. “I - ”

Eris shook his head, kissing the cold tip of your nose. His hand brushed up your back, dangerously close to where your wings stemmed out from under your coat. It sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of you, (Y/N),” he whispered, red eyes burning into yours.

Without much more than a nod, Eris winnowed you out of the woods into a warm wood cabin. A fire was roaring in the hearth, reaching out toward Eris, crawling to its master. The floor and walls were lined with mahogany of the deepest brown, thick tapestries and portraits hanging on the walls. In the corner sat a large bed, plush blankets and fur throws piled high on the mattress. You gazed upward at Eris, still holding you in his arms, face barely illuminated in the soft candle light. His eyes were soft, glinting with red as he smiled down at you, eyelashes casting shadows down his cheekbones. He curled a piece of hair around your ear and brushed his thumb along your jawline. He bent down toward you, offering you a small kiss. “They won’t find us here,” he whispered, still holding you against his chest. “I have a little hideout close to the coast. Sorry it’s a little small but - ”

“It’s perfect,” you whispered, stretching up on your tiptoes to kiss him again. He hummed against your lips, dragging his hands over your sides and up to the claps that held your coat together. He deftly unhooked the garment, dragging the heavy wool over your shoulders. It hung off your back, buttons under your wings still fastened. 

You stifled a laugh, taking a step back from Eris and breaking your kiss with a giggle. “This is new,” he muttered, waiting as you grabbed the tail of your coat, quickly unhooking the final buttons and dropping the coat. 

His eyes widened, lips parted slightly as he took in your clothes - what little remainder of them still hung on your body. The silk black nightgown didn’t leave much to the imagination, dipping low on your chest and stopping short under your hips. His eyes traveled the expanse of your chest, down to the swell of your hips and strong thighs. He licked his lips, staring at you with hungry intention. “If you don’t mind, (Y/N),” he began, hand falling to your hip as he stepped closer to you. “I’d like to finish what we started in your bedroom.”

You nodded, tipping your head back to allow him to kiss you. You offered him a smile, gazing up at him from under your eyelashes. “You said we should have our privacy now, no?”

“Not unless your Shadowsinger decides to stop by,” he grumbled, hoisting you up by the back of your thighs and pulling you into his arms. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and hummed, sticking your head in the crook of his neck, kissing the side of his neck. “If he does,” you replied, teeth dragging over the corner of his jaw. “He can just watch.”

Eris barked out a laugh, one that vibrated your lips against his neck. He gave your ass a light squeeze, his palm spreading over the expanse of your backside. “Little minx. I have no idea what goes on in that Court of yours,” he muttered, dropping a knee to the mattress, still holding you against him. “And I think I may be too jealous to find out.”

Your hand curled upward around the back of his neck, fingers intertwining in his red hair. “Then show me how an Autumn heir fucks,” you breathed, pressing your core against the front of his trousers. 

Eris breathed a sigh of expletives, laying you down on the plush throws before him. Your legs remained bent at his sides, letting him settle between your legs, staring down at you. He dragged a line down your leg, from your knee to your thigh, as he took in your beauty. “I’m not going to fuck you, (Y/N),” he murmured, fingers carefully pushing up the hem of your shift. “We have many nights ahead, where I will fuck you into this very bed - so hard you’ll be begging me to stop.” You shivered beneath his touch as the silk pooled around your waist. “Tonight, I’m going to show you how sorry I am. Show you how much you really mean to me.”

He dipped his head toward yours, so close that all you had to do was lift your head and purse your lips to reach him - before he pulled back, dropping his head to your chest, kissing a line across your breasts, licking your nipple through the silk. You huffed a sigh and dropped your head back into the mattress, arching toward him as he pressed his tongue against the smooth dress. “Eris,” you moaned when his head traveled farther down, just until his nose brushed against your belly, lips touching your slit. 

“That’s it, (Y/N).” His hands traveled the expanse of your thighs, prying them open and pressing them against the blankets. “So ready for me.” He licked a long stripe up your pussy, hot and writhing and begging. 

You arched up into him, yelping out in surprise as he flicked your clit. You’d been waiting for that moment, to have Eris buried between your legs - but nothing you imagined could have compared. Not as his tongue teased you around your clit, only touching the sensitive bud so rarely, only when you were begging for him to do so. “Please, Eris,” you called, ankles crossed over his back. 

He stuck his tongue upwards, curling up between your folds, making its way inside of you. As you lifted your hips, trying to shift your position so that his tongue met your clit, he smiled, turning his head to bite the inside of your thigh. Eris laughed at your shaking breath, finally giving in and licking a stripe up your clit. He directed his ministrations to bringing you to orgasm, flicking his tongue back and forth over the bud. 

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, crying out as your legs shook wildly. He held you in place, which just so happened to involve your thighs clenched tightly around his head. He would have smiled if he hadn’t been so caught up with taking you over the edge, obsessed with how you were crossed between holding him in place and pushing him away. Your stomach clenched, arched off the bed as you rode out your orgasm. 

Eris was hesitant to move, unsure if he ever wanted to move or just spend the rest of his days buried between your thighs. Eventually he moved, not without pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit. He stepped backwards, watching as you laid limp on the bed, so blissfully fucked, watching his movements with half lidded eyes. He stripped out of all of his clothing, unable to wait any longer with how hard his cock was pressing against his tight trousers. 

He had a lean build, muscle coiled around his long limbs. You made out a few scars across his pale chest, ones you’d be able to make out better once you had some better light. The candle light didn’t do justice to his build, though you vowed to spend the next night exploring his body. As you eyes the heavy dick that hung between his legs, standing at attention, your mouth ran dry, but only one thing was on your mind. He crawled on top of you, propping himself over you with an elbow beside your head. 

“I can’t go back there, Eris,” you breathed, staring up at his red eyes. Your fingers brushed over his pointed ear, over the soft curls that fell around his face. “I can’t go back.” You weren’t sure if it was the post-orgasm haze that made you never want to leave Eris and his bed, or it was that one percent of you that was still scared of what came after, when you inevitably had to go.

“You never have to go back, I swear it.” His brows furrowed in determination, in sincerity. His lips pressed into a firm line as he nodded down to you. 

“Do you think Autumn will look good on me?” You whispered, smiling up at him. 

He sighed, pressing his body into you. As his chest met yours, stomach pressed together, his cock fell forward, hanging between your bodies. The tip touched your belly, heavy and ready, precum leaking from the tip. You hummed as you fit your hand between the two of you, running your palm over his lengthy cock. “You look good in my bed,” he replied, kissing your lips. “You look good in nothing at all.” You rubbed his dick, wrapping your palm around him and pumping a few times. “You will look good in Autumn red, in my colors.” His lips found your neck as he licked a long path over the curve of your neck, biting down as you moved his cock to tease the tip between your folds. He had already made a mess between your legs, the sound of his dick rubbing at your entrance sang through the room. “And you will look so fucking good as my wife.” He sighed, along with you, as he pushed his cock forward, sliding inside of you with ease. 

You could have cried with how far Eris pushed into you, how he slid so far, all the way until he was fully hilted inside of you. He let out a shaky breath, pulling all the way out before sliding back in slowly, savoring every moment. He had come so close to this so many times, so many times that he had to fuck his fist with the thought of that sweet caramel running over your chest. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him forward, meeting him in a messy kiss. His tongue met yours, lips sloppily sliding over yours as he devoured you. His hand moved between you to grab a handful of your breast, to flick your nipple and squeeze the plump flesh. 

You curled your legs around him, holding your hips off the bed to allow a better angle for him to fuck you, for him to push his cock all the way inside of you - just a bit farther. Enough to have the tip of his cock pressing against your belly, aching in your womb. 

You grabbed his hand, the one squeezing your breast as you held it to your lips, kissing each of his fingertips. His eyes traveled from watching where the two of you were connected, where his cock slid in and out of your pussy so effortlessly, so perfectly, to your eyes. You let him watch you move his hand over your shoulder, holding it just above the bone of your wing. His brows crossed, and his hips faltered for the first time all evening. 

You nodded, holding him by the wrist as his thumb met the dark leathery skin. You jumped in surprise, despite the anticipation of him touching such a private extension of yourself. Eris let out a shaky breath as your cunt clenched around him, the involuntary reaction so unexpected. He smiled through his shock, letting his index finger run along the bone. 

“Eris,” you nearly begged, crossing your ankles around his back, pulling him back into you further. He snapped out of his fixation, leaning over you again, letting his cock sink all the way back into you. He rocked back and forth, barely moving as he rutted against your front. You moaned, his dick rubbing the sweet spot inside of you. His hands pulled you up, hoisting you by the small of your back as he fell back to sit on his knees. 

Eris settled you on his cock, earning a breathless sigh as he pierced you even deeper than he had before. You steadied yourself by letting your feet fall to the mattress on either side of him, bouncing yourself slowly on his dick. His hands moved from your back to your ass, squeezing as he moved you even more, riding him harder and harder. 

When your head tipped back, sighing in pure bliss, his hands rose to where your wings stemmed from your back, swirling around the soft skin of your back. Your breath shuttered, anticipation of his next movement stirring in your blood. Your eyes had fallen shut and you gripped his shoulders for dear life, still rocking back and forth on his cock as his fingers traced down your spine between your wings. 

You dug your fingernails into his shoulder, earning a growl from the male below you. He traced the outer shell of your wing, the hard bone from the base to the crux of the bend. You squeezed your legs together, clenching around Eris as his featherlight touch ran back and forth. “Eris - I can’t - ” You choked out a breath, squeezing your eyes shut and sitting straight, dropping your forehead against his. 

He hadn’t known what it felt like to touch your wings, and wouldn't have imagined how soft they felt. He sure as hell couldn’t imagine how it felt for you - but he wasn’t expecting to wield such a reaction out of you. “Yes you can, (Y/N),” he dipped down and pressed a kiss to your lips, watching as you came on his cock. He only dropped his hands when he absolutely had to, when you had come so hard your legs shook, unable to hold yourself up. He lifted you up and down slowly, moving you forward and back so your clit brushed against his pelvis as you came. You harshly gasped as the sensitive bud rubbed against his skin, against the coarse hair trailing from his navel. “My fucking good little bat,” he breathed, kissing your jawline. You exhaled a steady breath, hands hanging limply over his back, legs flexed but lack, letting Eris still move you atop his lap. 

As he moved his lips over the crook of your neck, he blew cool air over the arch of your wing, causing them to widen and flex behind you, as you clenched around him for the final time, riding out the remainder of your orgasm. Eris came as you slid over him, shivering as his orgasm took over and he came into you, painting your insides. He ran hot, body temperature raising as he groaned, rutting into you with fever. 

You curled your arms around him again, letting him lower you back to the mattress, legs hooked around his waist. Eris simply settled back between your legs, holding you close to his burning chest as he nuzzled his face into your neck. You didn’t want to let him go, for him to move and pull his cock from you. You could spend the rest of your life wrapped in his arms in his bed. 

And Eris felt the same. “Stay with me, (Y/N),” he whispered, running his hand over your messy hair.

Your heart swelled. “Here?” You but your lip, if he asked you to stay in Autumn, you would. No matter threat threats your brother or Beron would attempt, you would stay beside Eris.

“Gods, anywhere,” he replied, voice muffled in the crook of your neck. “Just with me, (Y/N), please.”

You pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “Anywhere. Always.”

[toms-cherry-trees]

Don’t Let Her Go || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Some loves are meant to last more than a lifetime. 

Word Count: 1346

Warnings: brief mentions of injuries and violence, non descriptive

Author’s note: In my efforts to come to terms with not all my works being masterpieces, I post this. I literally came up with it while eating lunch, wrote it in less than 2 hours and had about 5 changes of heart on where did I want it to go so it doesn’t have perfect redaction but here ya go, hope you enjoy!

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“I haven’t seen you all day”

“I have been with the children”

Every night, without miss, after the children were laid to bed, they would hold this same conversation. With his wife sat in the same armchair, and Tommy bent over his paperwork, whiskey in front of him and cigarette between his fingers. Never looking up to meet her face.

“You need to start letting them go. They are growing, as much as we don’t like it. Anthony will be eight soon, Rosalie has just turned five, and Daisy’s first birthday is in a week”

“You know I can’t let them go. They are my babies. They will always be my babies, no matter how many months and years pass. And I will always be their mama”

Tommy looked up, not enough to meet his wife’s eyes, but just enough to take a look at her hands. Always folded graciously in her lap, twirling a withering white carnation between her fingers. Tommy felt a shiver travel down his spine, like a single drop of icy water.

“Did you notice that Daisy has finally taken her first steps?”

“I did” He could hear the smile in her voice. “I saw her with the nanny early in the morning, just after I got here. They didn’t know I was looking from the door but I saw them. Dee-dee looked adorable with those pink ribbons in her hair, and seeing her wobble across the nursery almost made me cry. I keep wondering where did my newborn go”

Time marches on, Tommy thought to himself, but he didn’t dare voice his opinions out loud. He knew just how sensible she could become when reminded about the undefeatable pass of time, especially when it came to the children. Every night she lamented about how they couldn’t stay picture perfect babies. And Tom decided to change the subject right before she went down that lane.

“Did you know I made it halfway to the office today before realising I left my glasses here? I had to turn back to fetch them, and then noticed I had forgotten my cap too”

“I did notice when the car had already disappeared from view. I’m sorry I forgot to remind you in the morning, is just that I was-”

“Busy with the children, I understand. They will always come before everything and everyone else” The barely undetectable hint of reproach didn’t go unnoticed to her. Her feet made no noise as she circled the desk and stood behind her husband, her arms snaking around his chest as her chin rested atop his shoulder. Her cold hands chilled his skin, even through the clothing. Everything in her had gone cold, no matter how hard he tried to keep the flame alive. They remained in that position, submerged in unbreachable silence for several minutes, until Tommy pulled away just enough to shake free from her grasp and resume his work. His wife blinked, perplexed at his actions, before sighing and taking seat in front of him once more

“You’ve grown distant” She sounded hurt, the quiver in her voice a clear indicator of her distress

“I have not”

“I know you want me to leave, to get away”

“Never” Tommy spoke so quickly his voice overlapped with hers. Panic immediately bubbled in the pit of his stomach. For the first time that night he dared look her in the face. Lately, tears seemed to be ready to spill from her eyes more often, and her lips seemed stuck in a perpetual grimace, unable to form a complete smile no matter how hard she tried “If it depended on me, you would never have to leave”

“I have to someday, but I don’t know how. I am tied to this house, this land and those who habit it” She lamented herself

“It is your own choice. It is you who talks about leaving and moving on. You are forcing this on us. I never asked you to leave. Not even once. Not even when you only give me crumbs of your affection” His words sounded accusatory, and honestly he wanted them to. He wanted her to know how much her indifference burnt. How she made no effort to bridge the gap between them

“You know I can’t stay, not forever. I do not belong here anymore” The defeat showed clear through her words. At the end they were both fighting a lost cause “Besides, which man wants his ex wife sticking around forever?”

“I do” He stood and banged his fist on the desk, the dry sound echoing in the walls of the study “I want you to stay here. I want you here, forever, In this house, in our bed, in my arms. How is it so hard to understand?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in and out slowly in a feeble attempt to control his raw emotions “I never wanted you to leave. Nor then, nor now. I can’t do any of this without you. I can’t do shit without you here. I am not meant to function without you”

Tommy dropped his head, chin buried in his chest as he tried to collect his thoughts. Everytime they held this conversation, he ended up losing his temper and burying his sorrow in the laudanum. Almost six months had passed with the same struggle, the same battle with no chance of win. There was no win

He didn’t hear her move, but in a moment she appeared by his side, gently leading him back to his seat, where he slouched, clearly devoid of any energy. She tenderly cradled his head in her bosom, her coarse fingers massaging his scalp. He let himself be soothed, clinging to her clothes with feverish desperation, fingers hooked with such intensity they threatened to tear apart the delicate fabrics. Her scent inundated his nostrils, the musk from her skin mixed with her favourite perfume, and the ever lingering scent of withered flowers.

She pressed her cheek against his head, deepening the embrace. A cold hand traced the outline of his jaw, down the curve of his neck, to finally stop right above his heart

“I know I will forever have a place here” Her whispering words tickled his ear “And I don’t ever want to leave, truly. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Not as long as my children are here. As long as you are here. My bones belong to this place. For better of worse, this is my forever home”

His arm circled her waist, pulling her as close as the bodies allowed. Tommy could simply pretend that everything was perfect and nothing in his life had gone awry. If he never looked his wife in the eye, he could pretend that the hole in her forehead didn’t exist, and she definitely didn’t have blood trickling down her nose and chin, staining her white nightgown. He could just forget that his enemies waited for him to go to business in London to break into his home in the middle of the night, with his children sleeping upstairs, and dragged his wife out of bed. They forced her into the stables and shot her square in the face, without explanation. No threats, no ransom, no kidnapping to get leverage on him. Simply wishing to make some damage, to bring him down from the bottom up by tearing apart the very foundations of his existence.

But they didn’t consider her resilience and devotion. How could they? How could they imagine that it took more than death to tear her apart from him. No earthly power could defeat their love. Not even the Gods above could separate them both. Screw the “til death do us part”. She would never leave him, and he would never let her go. It didn’t matter that there seemed to be a perpetual veil between them, a veil which they weren’t meant to cross but did so anyway.

He could pretend that he had a most perfect life.

As long as he didn’t look up.

[slothgiirl]

the spy part 1(keith x reader)

8k. explicit content. while on medical leave reader meets the red paladin of voltron during the war against Zarkon.

The corridors are well lit. It’s like being in a brand new hospital, this ship in the rebel fleet. 

People hustle around, landing, taking off in smaller ships to distant planets. Your hand goes to your arm. The medic had given you a movement’s leave, so you were resting for now on this ever moving ship. 

Outside the widows, you spy an assortment of ships, each one’s origins clear from the design. So many planets, so many peoples banding together against Zarkon. You’d win the war. 

It was what you kept telling yourself. 

You would. 

It was just a matter of time.

You round the corner, stretching your arm across your chest, a simple form of physical therapy in deep space. You hadn’t seen earth since being deployed. The galaxy garrison seemed like a dream from another life. You had been on track for the chemistry department, long term missions to mars to analyze soil and dust, not this, not a war. You take a breath. 

And spot the Red Paladin. 

He’s one of the most recognizable people in the universe, and his grungy hair and distinctive outfit does him no favors. You’d never seen him before, not in the flesh. Sure. Voltron had saved your ass a handful of times. You wouldn’t have survived the assault on Arrakis if Voltron hadn’t rammed the shield. Trapped. Piloting a fighter craft that was closer to a mosquito irritating the Galra then pushing them back.

But you hardly knew him.

He’s gripping the railing tightly, trying to camouflage into the wall as an alien with crystalline blue skin and hair like saturated indigo leans into him. 

The line of his shoulders is taut, brittle. 

You don’t even think. 

“There you are,” you force yourself to be synthetically cheerful as you smile easily at the paladin, who you realize quickly you don’t know his name but you know what he is and that must be an awful feeling, being so recognizable without being known. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you lied, elbowing the blue alien out of the way. You could never tell much from a single glance at themis species despite their largely humanoid appearance. 

You put your hand on his arm loosely, “come on, we’re late enough and you know how annoyed the others get.” Good, that seemed convincing enough. 

The red paladin’s eyes go wide, his mouth a grimace and it’s then that you notice the feverish flush to his skin. 

But he doesn’t pull away or argue. 

You ignore the alien and decide small talk was the way to go until you put some distance, “I’m kind of hurt you didn’t come visit me while I was healing,” you stick close to the truth, “but since it only took an hour? a varga? for me to heal I won’t hold it against you.” He’s too warm.

Maybe the space flu?

Was that even a thing?

You weren't sure. 

Mostly, you snuck into work camps and blew up strategic targets using whatever you could get your hands on to make a bomb. The chemistry came in handy. 

He sways as he walks, looking like your roommate at the garrison after a few too many hits after an exam. “Do I know you?”

You flush, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just,” you look back, but the alien’s been left a couple turns back, “you looked uncomfortable.” You take a step back, letting go of him. “Are you okay?” 

His expression furrows, mouth a pinched line as he goes from suspicious to annoyed, takes a u-turn back to suspicious as he studies you, before relaxing. “Yeah. yeah. . .who are you?”

You introduce yourself, taking on the meaningless garrison designation at the end, “technically second year member, though I’ve been with the runners mostly.” No designation more than a number. 

“You do look human,” he replies simply, moving to get a look at your ears, “not many of those out here.”

“And yet somehow the sentries always look the other way,” you muse, “not very bright. I’m almost convinced the Empire’s in it’s failing bureaucracy days.” 

He winces, before deadpanning, “eh, I don’t know how useful a lion is against the DMV.” 

You laugh. 

He takes slow deliberate breaths, steadying himself, “I’m Keith.”

“Seriously though, do you need to see a medic?” He looked in serious need of a tylenol. The ships were usually crisp, you wore a jacket most of the time to stave off the permanent chill. 

Keith shakes his head, chewing his lip before meeting your gaze with an intense concentration in his violet eyes, as if he was gauging how much titrant he could add before hitting the endpoint and if half a drop was worth the risk. “I’m just. . .going through something.”

“Anyone I can call for you?” You weren't about to abandon him here. Sure, he was a paladin and could probably look after himself. But you couldn’t in good conscience walk away. 

He swallows, looking down for a moment and you are startled to find how much you miss his attention boring into you with the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen. 

“No,” Keith replies mulishly as he jerks away from you. “I’m fine.”

Which was a total lie. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling well but you weren’t about to get on his case. You were sure he had people for that. He wasn’t some random soldier in arms with you that you watched out for and hoped not to have to watch die. 

You swallow the bitter thought away, crossing your arms over your chest.

Leaning back against the hall, you watch evenly as Keith stumbles, catching himself on the wall. His mouth is a drawn line of determination. 

You didn’t understand why. 

There was aid here. It wasn’t the same as crawling through cramped mining tunnels and swallowing back pain forcing yourself to work through it until the mission was accomplished. 

“Do you need help,” you ask.

“No.” He leans a hand against the wall.

You raise a brow, wondering if he would pass out for whatever weird space flu he had clearly caught and you could only hope it was nothing like the infections that ran rampant in the work camps, or if he would give in and accept your offer of help. The former seemed more likely. 

You don’t ditch him though, focusing your attention on the porthole to the stars. 

There was no rush: no reason to help him by force. People didn’t learn if you babied them you’d caught on quick back on earth during your tutoring hours. You had to let them fall and smash their face in sometimes. 

So you stay, watching the stars.

Keith makes no move to take another step. 

It still got you, looking out into the vastness of space and realizing this really was your life now, you were out here, further than you’d ever dreamed. Everywhere you looked, novel stars, distant planets teaming with life. You could have done without the war, but it was what it was. 

“And here I thought Mars would be the furthest I’d go,” you comment more to yourself than Keith. 

The red paladin makes a small sound of acknowledgement. 

“Earth’s, or was, at the beginning of our space age. People had barely begun to live on the research bases on Mars,” you watch him out of the corner of your eye in case he really does pass out, “so no Star Trek for me but now I’m here.” 

“There’s a war going on.”

You turn over to look at him, sort of annoyed because yeah you got that, spent enough time in the trenches without a fancy lion spaceship, but the bubbling annoyance dissipates when you see the upturned corners of his mouth. Keith was teasing you. 

Shifting your weight, you add, “yeah well, instead of being a footnote in a Mars base’s history I’ll be a footnote in this war instead.” Gallows humor. You needed a lot of that when regularly infiltrating camps and posing as a slave, as a prisoner, the bottom of the barrel that wouldn’t get a second glance from the Galra soldiers. 

He frowns. “I don't think anyone’s just a footnote.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” Keith looks away.

You feel bad. “It’s probably better not to be so cynical,” you muse, “but it’s like the vice president thing, no one remembers them unless the president gets assassinated.” God you couldn’t help how dark your humor could veer even when trying to be positive. 

He looks over at you, head tilted, considering. Despite being standoffish, Keith was easy to read unlike the slick space pirates you’d encountered. 

You meet his gaze head on. 

“I might need some help,” he allows. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “If you’re sure,” you utter, regarding him carefully and unable to keep the teasing from your voice. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him and what little you’d learned made it clear he wouldn’t take well to your teasing. 

War made quick brothers out of everyone. 

But Keith held himself afar.

A questioning glance danced in his uniquely violet eyes as he tried to get a read on you. “I am.” 

You nod, stepping besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. You were always caught by surprise by how heavy a grown adult could be. And depending on the alien. . .

He takes a step, still holding himself afar from you, barely resting any weight on you. His muscles were stiff under your touch, back rigid that matched the uncomfortable look on his chiselled features. 

You follow his lead. 

At Keith’s sedate pace, it would take quite a while before you dropped him off where you needed to go. Being personable was part of being a leader or it’d lead to mutiny. Not that you had ever gotten that far. The Galaxy Garrison had slapped the graduation badge on your uniform and sent you into space. 

You scrabble for familiar territory, earth and the garrison. The Black Paladin was a Garrison member returned from the grave. Rumor had it all the paladins were garrison deserters. 

Veronica McCain did share a familiar resemblance with the blue paladin. It was probably true. 

“I attended the Garrison campus at Guiana,” you offer. “I was hoping for Texas or Florida to be closer to home, but I didn’t test into pilot or engineer.” 

Keith makes a sound in the back of his throat. 

Even through the fabric of his uniform, he felt warm. How anybody could be warm in such cold halls was anybody’s guess. A permanent chill had sunk its way into your bones. You missed the humid heat of Guiana. 

“It was nice though. The jungle was pretty close and it was always hot,” you tell him. “I thought I wouldn’t miss the humidity, step outside and it was like having just showered but I do. These ships have to be at 15 C.” 

“Texas is hot too.” Keith utters quietly. 

“Isn’t the desert cold at night though,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It had been basic earth science. 

“Yeah. It is.” There’s longing in his voice. You wish he’d say more just to hear him speak. 

Warmth spreads, an embarrassing tell, through your cheeks. 

“I did miss the snow while there,” you continue, “it didn’t snow much up in Vancouver but it was never as hot as Guiana, and the rain was warm!” You had never gotten over that. The rain would spot and start throughout the day but the sun would keep on shining. 

“What were you,” Keith asks bluntly.

“Chemisist, more the physical and inorganic type,” you admit, “it was fun doing wet labs.” That had gotten you hooked back in regular school. “Then got shunted to command track after a few too many volunteering opportunities. Guess the lesson there’s to not try too hard.”

That gets a laugh out of him. 

“You,” you ask him as he shifts more of his weight onto you, finally accepting the help he asked for. Stubborn guy. 

“Pilot.”

You look over at him, his wild hair brushing against your cheek and the simple action shouldn’t excite you but it does. He was hot with sharp features offset by a certain enthralling earnestness but he could run a comb through his hair.

Keith didn’t seem the pilot type: arrogant, loud, generally strong personalities. 

“You any good,” you ask though you’ve heard about Voltron so he has to be pretty fucking good to be part of them. How did Voltron choose its pilots?

He smirks easily, close to a smile at the mere mention of piloting and you knew that moment he loved it: didn’t matter if he was good at it or not. You swallow hard as anticipation buzzes under your skin for no good reason. 

Get your head out of the gutter, you tell yourself. 

“I’m a pretty good pilot,” Keith answers, somehow managing to sound like he’s stating a fact instead of bragging. 

“Just pretty good?” You smile at him, letting him know you were only joking around as you both round another corner, finally making it to the transient quarters. People were always dropping in and out of mobile spaceports like these. 

He snorts. “Better than most.” Keith shrugs, smiling over at you. 

“Don’t be modest on my account,” you utter, looking away, not sure what to do about the growing heat in your body that had nothing to do with temperature controls. 

“It’s true,” he says simply. 

Honesty was a hard thing to come by. You were finding more and more reasons to like the red paladin as you reach his current room. No special treatment here. 

Or maybe it was politics and optics, making sure everyone knew Voltron was of the people and not aiming to replace Zarkon as rulers of the universe. 

Keith places a hand against the door, putting space between you both.

You swallow, glancing away, feeling some of the tension ease. 

“You sure you don’t want me to send a medic,” you ask him, looking over at his striking eyes. The heat under your skin is a live wire: you curl your toes in your shoes. People usually didn’t affect you this much. Even the smell of him was so distinct, drawing you in. 

It was an unprecedented reaction. 

He must feel it too. 

Keith studies you with an enraptured fascination shining in his wide eyes, mouth parted on the verge of answering. Both your bodies sway towards each other like branches in the wind: sunflowers orienting towards the sun. 

You shift your weight from one foot to another. 

It relieves enough tension for you to shift away. 

“No. No medic,” Keith finally answers. 

“Right then.” But you don’t make a move to leave. 

He says nothing. 

The silence is broken by the hum of the ship's engines under your feet. People move about and you can hear their footsteps echoing on the metal floors. 

Supposedly quintessence powered ships smelled like ozone. 

This one was powered by crystals and some Olkari engine. You wouldn't know the specifics, they were beyond you. And not your job. 

You look back at him, ready to leave. The space between you could so easily tilt to awkward and you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you found yourself so entranced by Keith. You barely knew him. You didn’t want to be one of the soldiers with a photograph in your pocket and a farflung hope that you’d-

He’s looking at you, cautious, movements slow and deliberate as if he’s caught between thinking and simply doing. 

Then Keith’s demeanour becomes determined: deciding to take the leap without looking down. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you.

For a second you’re baffled, trying to figure out how you got to point B when this wasn’t a bar and you had no agenda, before you shrug and kiss him back. Keith was undeniably attractive. He was even a bit taller than you which was compelling, you were on the tall side for a girl. 

It’s not some unsolvable thought experiment, you kiss him back.

And a current of static electricity runs through your core. Heat pools after only just a kiss that steals your breath away. 

You can’t get enough, his hands warm against your skin, igniting a delicious sensation in your very core. You want more. You kiss him harder, your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip. 

Your hands clutch at the fabric of his shift.

Keith kisses you back, matching your frenzied energy, his mouth parting against yours and pulling you flush against his chest. 

It does nothing to dissolve the tension, the charged energy between you spikes. Like a fire fed by wood it grew. 

It was a heady feeling, his hands caressing your cheeks as Keith kissed you with a vigor you thought only existed in soapy dramas. Heat pools in your belly like a sinking stone: you liked his intensity. 

Keith pulls away, catching his breath, resting his forehead against yours. 

Some of the muddled list clears from your head, now completely in the gutter as you press Keith against the door to his room. 

Oh. . .were you really doing this?

Keith looks a fuckable mess, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Still, he hesitates. 

You can feel the question linger in the air, can feel it in the featherlight touch of his hands ghosting over your cheeks as he makes to pull away, to let you go if you want to turn back now. But you don’t.

You want to run your hands through his hair. You’re practically burning up wondering how Keith would look splayed on the bed between your thighs. . .how he would feel. 

Would he be just as intense in bed as he fucked you? 

“You feel it too,” he asks quietly.

You furrow your brows, thrown. There were a lot of intense emotions coursing through you all narrowed down to feeling horny as a teenager back on earth. Masturbation only went so far. 

You swallow, trying to rack your brain cells together and say something. Yeah. It was a bit. . .much. Space much. But that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken any drinks from strangers. 

The connection was too strong to discount the possibility of space weirdness affecting both of you. 

“Yeah,” you reply, sounding more whiny than you’d like to. The apex of your thighs throbbed with want. Anticipation had built up and he was right there; Keith

s breath fanned over you, his forehead against yours like a touchpoint. 

Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt. 

In the hall. 

Where anyone could see. 

“So what now,” you ask, “medic?”

Keith snorts, “No. I just-do you want to come inside?”

You smirk. Everyone knew what that meant. There were so many variations with the same outcome. 

“Yeah. Okay.” You put a pin in any alien space nonsense and slip inside Keith’s assigned quarters for however long Voltron was here for.

The lights are off. You don’t bother to study the room when Keith crushes his mouth against yours. You stumble around in the dark, feeling emboldened now that he’d voiced an invitation, he wanted this as much as you did, and run your hands up his chest. He was lean and lithe. Keith leans into your touch, a shiver running down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair and run your tongue over his bottom lip. 

Keith moans, the sound scratchy from the back of his throat excites you. 

It was thrilling to know you could elicit such a response from someone. You liked feeling hot and sexy. And from a guy like Keith who you were vibing with. . .

He finds the jagged hem of your cut tank top, which had doubled as a bandage, and slides his hands under your shirt. His fingers are calloused, skin hot against yours and there was always something so carnal about skin on skin touch. Keith clutches at your sides and leads you backwards. 

You trust that he knows the layout.

Your mind has boiled down to simple desires. 

“Keith,” you mumble against his mouth as he guides your hips against his and you feel his cock beneath the fabric. It goes straight to your ego: straight to your pussy. 

More heat. It’s unbearable how much your body throbs and you moan against him, against his lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.

“Mhm,” he asks, just as overcome with lust as you were. Keith tilts his head up, and you kiss his jaw, kiss the side of his throat, nipping at the flesh and enjoying the breathy moans he makes as your knees hit the bed. 

You want more. 

You move your hands to his shoulders, “let's get this off,” you utter softly, pushing at his jacket. 

“Okay,” he replies, crowding you against his bed until you have no choice but to sit down. Keith discards his jacket, and pulls his shirt over his head. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s dark. You can’t see him well. You still react like a charged electron. 

“Now you,” Keith states simply, not exactly a command. It was nice, the lack of mind games and subterfuge. 

You scoot up further on the bed, shrugging your bomber jacket off. 

He’s watching. 

Awkwardness creeps up on you. There was no sexy way to take off a sports bra. 

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Then you peel off your sports bra. The elastic worked too well. 

Keith’s sitting up on his knees.

“You’re beautiful,” he states.

“Come here,” you utter, inviting him closer. 

He complies readily, cupping your cheek and kissing your mouth eagerly, closer to a lover than a random encounter. 

You grab his other hand, guiding him up to your chest, to your breast. Keith runs his thumb over your nipple, gooseflesh rises on your skin. He trails bruising kisses down your throat. 

Your breath catches in your throat. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you, savoring the feel of his chest against yours. 

“Fuck,” you groan as Keith bites down hard at the crook of your neck, harder than you’d expected. 

He stills. “I’m-I,” making to pull away.

“No,” you reach for him, tilting his head up as you move to straddle his waist, “it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I won’t do it again,” he stammers out. 

“I didn't say I didn't like it.” You push him down against the bed, topping him. “Just warn a girl.”

Keith wraps his hands around your hips, tugging at the waistband of your trousers. “These are kind of in the way.”

Laughing, you reply, “could say the same to you.” Your hands pop the button of his jeans. 

It’s a fumble to pull your trousers down. Neither of you care, eager to get on with it. He shoves his jeans down his legs along with his boxers. 

You straddle Keith, completely naked and lean down to capture his lips against yours. His cock twitches against your thigh and your toes curl up. His tongue runs over your top lip, you part your mouth, letting him in. 

You cup his cheeks between your hands, your hips rolling against his. 

He thrusts feverishly against you. His fingers dig into your bare hips, skin against skin. 

“Come here,” Keith utters hoarsely, “I wanna fuck you.” 

“Think I’d rather ride you,” you reply back breathlessly.

“You can do that after,” he whines, a rumble emanating from his chest but your head is too fucked up to make sense of it. 

You sit up, hands on his chest. “That’s presumptuous of you.” 

Keith grins, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and rolls you over so he’s on top. “Is it,” he asks rhetorically as his hand reaches between your thighs, ghosting over the wetness of your pussy, “when you’re this wet?”

You moan, canting your hips, cashing the feel of his hand, wanting relief. It was a mounting pressure in your belly, a forest fire under your skin and you needed Keith. “Okay. yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes when Keith bent his head and licked a stripe from your nipple to your collarbone. You whimper, lost in the sensation. 

“Tell me what you want,” Keith asks. 

“Fuck me. Please fuck me,” you utter, you hands clutchinf at his shoulders, bringing him flush agaisnt you. 

Keith aquieses. 

You bend your knees, spreading your legs as he positions his cock. 

“Oh fuck,” Keith mutters as he pushes into you. 

Fuck indeed. You moan his name without thought, closing your eyes and laying your head back against the bed. His cock fills you up, sliding into your pussy with ease given how turned on you were. 

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you out. 

“God, yes,” you utter dazed. 

Keith moves his hips. You roll your hips up to meet him. He nips at your collarbone as he thrusts into you with favour. 

As promised he fucks you.

Keith captures your mouth in a kiss that catches the moans you make as he reaches between you and runs his thumb over your clit. His pace, the way he was kissing you madly. . .the heat that had been building since you’d met him comes crashing down. 

You come. 

Leaving you boneless. 

“Keith,” you whimper.

“Sh,” he tells you, kissing the shell of your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

“You..sort of already did,” you utter completely fucked out. 

“Turn over.” Keith says even as he’s already helping you move, his arms supporting your weight. He presses his lips on the back of your neck, as he grabs a pillow and sets it under you. 

You bring up your knees, laying on your legs, “thought I was going to go next,” you tease, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. 

He stills, “if you. . .”

“No. No,” you shrug, “I did ask you to fuck me.”

Keith runs his hands over your shoulders, sliding down your sides. He squeezes your ass with his hands. 

“Best two out of three,” you offer, half joking half serious because while you were still blissed out from having just orgasmed, you could already feel your pussy clench with anticipation. Seriously, the effect he had on you-

You can feel his smile against your skin, “If you think you can handle it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply, arching your back into him, titling your head back, and pulling his hair so you could kiss him. It was sloppy, and the angle was awkward, but none of it mattered when Keith stroked your pussy with his fingers, dipping into your wet folds. 

Already stimulated, you shudder with pleasure. 

Your tongue strokes his in an open mouthed kiss. He tastes as good as he smells, Keith filling up your senses like an incense stick wafting through a room. 

He wraps an arm around your chest, his hand caressing your breast, pulling you against his chest, both of you melding together. Keith thrusts his cock into you again. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, hand fisting the sheets of his bed, moaning into his mouth. 

It was a combination of his cock in you, his thumb rolling your nipple in his hand, that set you aflame. 

You couldn’t get enough, your hips jerking back, up to meet his. Keith fucks you against the bed. 

He palms your breast in his hand, pulling you up to him, keeping you close as he plants a kiss at the juncture of your ear and jaw, on the side of your neck whilst nipping the skin and you moan, his cock hitting just the right spot as he slams into you. 

First he grows comfortable, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting hard as he finds a pace that leaves you both a mess. 

“Right there, right there,” you utter. 

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, his fingers draw a circle around your clit without giving you the satisfaction you desperately seek, already building up to another climax. 

You nod jerkily. “So fucking good Keith. Your cock feels so fucking good,” you manage to reply.

He speeds up, faster, deeper, at your words. The bedframe, bolted down into the floor, creaks. 

“Just like that.” You moan wantonly. “Right there.”

He responds to your words, pulling out to the head of his cock, teasing your entrance just so before slamming back in.

You shut your eyes and whimper, over sensitive to your very marrow. It was too much. Keith was trailing kisses down your spine, his breath warm, his cock twitching inside your filling every inch of your pussy up. 

With a shudder, you come, stars behind your eyelids and short circuiting. You never knew sex could be this amazing. Not in real life. 

You got what people meant about the right partner. 

The right sexual energy to match. 

You collapse, a puppet with its strings cut. Keith’s hand across your chest is the only thing keeping you from melding into the mattress like a blob. His hips thrust against your ass mindlessly, chasing his own climax.

With another couple of thrusts, his hips snapping against you, Keith moans your name and comes undone behind you. 

He comes inside you, hot and sticky.

His hand grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place as he comes inside you. It’s unexpectedly hot. You didn’t know you could like this in bed. 

You didn’t know how much you liked an obstinate expression with wide eyes until you met Keith. He had the type of soulful eyes you could drown in. 

He had drawn out something in you that you hadn’t even been aware of. 

Your thoughts center on him as he finishes inside you. 

“You take my dick so good,” he says with a surprising amount of softness for what amounts to a one night stand and a pang strikes your chest, wishing you had met him under better circumstances where there might be-

Keith gets off you, slumping next to you on the bed. 

There’s a thrum of satisfaction running through you as you look at his face in profile. The insane idea that you might just stay and cuddle plants itself. 

That was impossible.

It was time to cut and run.

Sure, he’d fucked you. But he was also still half a stranger. No matter how jumbled your thoughts were, you refused to give into the pull he had on you. 

You wanted to lay there with him. 

Keith blinks slowly, looking as blissed out as you feel, reaching out a hand towards you, but stopping himself halfway. 

You feel a little disappointed, but say nothing. It was just a one off thing you remind yourself, no matter how you felt. 

Now that you can think a little more clearly, though the sensation remains like a lump in your throat that starts there no matter how much you swallow, you glance around the dark room. Only the barest red lights on the floor illuminate enough to cast shadows. 

Keith’s own eyes reflect the light like a cat. Just a glimmer of traffic sign yellow. 

But you’re too tired to think, so you file it away in your head under the nebulous details you’ve learned about the red paladin.  

You blink, grimancing as Keith’s come runs down your thigh onto the sheets. At least they weren’t yours. 

He closes his eyes. 

“I’d say sorry about the mess,” you break the easy silence lulling you into staying there, “but it's your fault,” you tease way too familiarly. 

Keith sounds embarrassed when he utters, “sorry about that. I can get carried away.”

You smile softly, tracing over his shadowed form with your eyes but resisting the urge to reach out. That part was over. “It was good.”

“You did mention.” 

So he could joke. 

You giggle in the darkness that envelopes the room. You were good at being friendly and taking charge but you understood the hesitancy to open up to people you just met. 

Keith’s chest makes a rumbling sound akin to a cheetah purring. 

You try and hold onto the thought, sure it means something, but the sound draws you in and you lose the battle against yourself, curling up into his side. 

He takes this as the permission it is, and tangles his limbs with yours. 

A thrum of warmth surges where Keith’s skin touches you and you’re not sure if its his running warm or if it's all in your head or-

your eyes drift closed. 

He’s purring.

You know Keith would be embarrassed if you pointed it out. 

So you say nothing. 

Everything seemed so intangible anyhow. The world had been turned down a notch. The post orgasm glow remained unrivalled. 

Even a hit from a bong didn’t measure up. 

Your first time had been a real embarrassment (you hadn’t managed to get the boy’s cock in you), this was just a weird quirk of his, and it was soothing. 

You close your eyes. 

Keith’s breathing is deep and steady, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but don’t feel pressured to check. 

It was nice, not scurrying off, not being more than a little drunk. War was exhausting. Earth had only been in it for less than three years. No wonder some aliens were in such shit moods. 

You exhale. 

There’s no way to mark the passage of time. 

The bed shifts under you. Keith runs the back of his hand gently over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter open.

“So would this be round two or three,” you ask lightly.

Keith smiles lightly, “you did say…”

“I did,” you laugh easily, blushing, the flush creeping from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. 

You swing a leg over his waist, straddling him, but not without feeling the start of a soreness in your legs. It doesn’t deter you. 

Keith lays back, watching you through his lashes as you sit up. He looks lovely. 

You lean down and kiss his mouth, reaching for his cock with your hands. He was already half hard when you wrap your hand around his shaft. 

His breath hitches in his throat as you move your hand. It’s been a moment since you’d jerk anyone, but it’s not rocket science. You press kisses down his throat, moving your hand firmly up and down his length until he’s completely hard. You nip at his collarbone, marking him the way he’d left bruising kiss all over you. 

His cock twitches in your hand, Keith’s hips thrusting up into you. 

Anticipation builds in your belly, but you want to set the pace, stay in charge. So you still your movements.

Keith whines under you, his hands holding your waist.

“Be a good boy for me,” you tell him. “Can you do that?”

“Mm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah,” he manages hoarsely, “I can be good.”

You smile, lining him up against your entrance. You shift your hips, teasing his cock against your wet folds, closing your eyes as you moan at the feeling. 

Keith thrusts up, trying to get more friction.

You still wanting to drag it out. Though your thighs ached and your pussy throbbed and you wondering if you should just-

You rub his cockhead against your pussy, “oooOH,” you moan. Your nails scratch his chest lightly, trying to steady yourself. Your heart raced, back arching down to him.

“Come here,” Keith groans, his fingers trailing up, asking for more, his hand on the small of your back. 

You give in, sinking down onto his cock. 

He moans your name, shutting his eyes. 

It’s pornographic, the way Keith rises up to meet you, hips bucking against yours, the expanse of his pale throat. 

You roll your hips slowly, fucking yourself on his cock. At this angle, the way he filled you- 

“Fuck,” Keith moans, “you feel so good.”

“I could say the same,” you reply, sliding against his hips, picking up speed. You hold yourself up, hand on his chest.

You suck in a breath as his cock thrusts into you. Static filled your head as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him. You tilt your head back, moaning his name, everything but Keith becoming background noise. 

He palms your breast.

Your breath hitches when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Ah,” you sigh. 

Your stomach was taunt. 

He doesn’t go further. You sort of wish he would. You trusted Keith not to hurt you. . .too badly. 

The idea excites you, as he wraps his hand around your throat. 

You match him, curling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard, “look at me,” you try and order but your voice is a whine. You’re too hot and heavy to think. 

His cock twitches inside you, filling you up and fuck it felt good to be streched out. 

Keith’s thumb strokes the side of your throat, his grip firm. “Do you like this,” he asks, his gaze heavy on you. He was entirely concentrated on you. It was like being worshipped. 

It sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you got rougher,” you admit, finding it easy to trust him.

He looks away. 

You falter. Had you read things wrong? 

Keith bucks his hips up against you and you let the thought go, sinking onto his cock and groaning, “Keith…” 

It was easy to let go when it felt this good. His hand around your throat, fingers digging into your hips, you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. Not that anyone would be able to tell from over your uniform. 

A shudder runs down your spine, you squirm on his cock mindlessly, thinking about bruises in the shape of his hands, about the marks on your neck you could already feel blooming on your skin. Heat surges in your chest, something primal as your thoughts linger there. 

You nails run down his chest, leaving shallow scratches as you try and get a better hold, desperately grinding against Keith, down on the bed, his cock ramming into you. “Fuck,” you think, “fuck. . .Keith. . .”

You can’t stand it. 

The pressure in your stomach, the heat scorching your pussy, the sound of Keith’s whines and moans, your name tumbling out of his mouth like a hymn that raised your heart beat, blood pounding in your ears. 

Keith squeezes your neck, your throat bobs under his fingers and fuck-

You come. 

Your legs tremble, unable to support you any longer as you collapse, a quivering mess on Keith. His hands move down to grip your thighs, pulling you down flush against him, down to the hilt of his cock as he comes, moaning erotically. 

The thread of heat doesn’t dissipate entirely as you rest on his chest, boneless and sticky with sweat, but it relaxes and you breath the scent of him in instead of pulling away entirely. 

Keith strokes a hand down your spine, an afterthought, “that was. . .” 

“Yeah.” You’re exhausted. 

You close your eyes, listening to the inhuman rumble of Keith’s chest as it rises and falls with every breath you take. 

You end up slipping out. The halls are in the light cycle, but no one bothers you as you walk. 

Getting up the next morning is hell. 

Your legs are sore, and that’s not even mentioning how much your pussy hurts when you take a step. You take a dose of painkillers still remaining from your injury and check your messages. 

Nothing from earth. 

That was expected. 

The meager universal communications were taken up by the war effort. You still sent your family messages, even if it was just one way. It was a way to keep in touch. It felt like watching starlight and knowing it was millions of years old, a form of time travel. 

You shower. 

Keith’s come was a mess on the inside of your thighs and the thought is not as gross as it should be, your skin warming up, zapped by static. You run your fingers over your clit and fuck yourself in the shower thinking of the red paladin and his come.

You get out, brushing your hair out, not looking in the mirror at the purple hickies spread out like a constellation on your chest, and realize how weird you were being. 

Come was gross. 

You hated swallowing so you never did. The tentative relationships at the garrison had been short, you had all been teenagers, and now anything that happened was a one off thing sometimes involving aliens. 

You swallow, gripping the counter of your sink. You were horny again. 

No. 

Not going there. 

No space weirdness this morning. 

Because you’re on leave for the space equivalent of 6 or 5 days, you don’t have much to do. You get food. It had taken getting used to, and figuring out which brightly colored pastel goo thing was good, but there was a variety. You still had no clue what was plants or animals up in space. 

The more liberated planets, the more supplies trickled in. Pirates loved to take a cut. 

You eat as soldiers stop by to refuel, fill up on supplies. Despite the stress, you missed being out on the front. Being out of the action sucked. 

Sitting around on a spaceship was boring. 

It wasn’t like they had shops or movie theaters. Walking around too much ended up with you being in the way. 

You clench your jaw, feeling feverish. 

And you had just been getting better. . .

You shove the thought away. 

You end up watching space TV: reality TV shows like Galra Ninja Warrior and nature docu series on plants, some you’ve been on, before finally sliding your hand under the waistband of your trousers and rubbing your clit. 

It takes the edge off, but the heat’s still there, pressed up in the pit of your stomach, cheeks flushes and you sigh, unsatisfied as you click to something other than the marine biomes of Kmeolsuahr. For aliens larger than a schoolbus, they were peaceful creatures. Since they were filter feeders, agriculture had never developed a hold on their planet, but water generators were plentiful. 

Yet another show starring Galra. It was the most common type of show in the Empire. Hijacking communications had given this traveling spaceship TV. You were glad for it now. 

You curl up, the communicator snug around your wrist translating everything instantaneously. It was the part in the soap where there has to be a duel for honor. What a load of crap. 

The two Galra circle each other, close ups of their face like a mexican stand-off. Through TV you got to know the Glara in the empire as more than just soldiers. Spending time in the camps taught you that even Galra citizens could be arrested for treasonous statements against Zarkon. 

They make growling alien sounds, something between a jaguar and a sound not found on earth, an underlying clicking that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. 

You connect the dots. 

The glowing eyes, the purrs and rumbles, and whatever weird alien thing was going on: the red paladin was part Galra. 

Only that made no sense. 

He was from Earth. 

First contact had been what, when the paladins had disappeared? When the Kerberos mission had been abducted, and boy had that made fringe conspiracy theorists happy. . .how could he be part Galra? 

Was it even your problem?

Surely this would go away. . .

You were leaving in a little over five days. 

You curl up and watch TV until you fall asleep, determined to enjoy the rest while it lasted and your weren’t trudging through waist deep mud. 

“Read through the debrief,” a commander with a nebulous rank above you asks. In your line of work, so much was redacted. Information gathering was a fancy way of saying spy. It was why you worked so closely with the rebels. 

You don’t even blink at the slight pale easter egg yellow alien, ears that resembled hair, long and droopy like a rabbit: there were four of them. You’d met stranger. “Yeah. Long mission.”

You were not looking forward to being on a planet with an inhospitable surface. A sun close enough that set the surface on fire with it’s rays, no thanks. 

Still, it was your assignment. 

“It is vital.”

They always said that. 

It seemed to be extracting some key players. Who they were remained unknown until you had to know. It was a lot of flying blind to keep information from leaking to the wrong ears. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz. 

“I’ll treat it that way,” you nod, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It would be fun flying a hijacked Galra fighter ship. The planet was pretty deep in Empire controlled space. 

“And,” the alien looks you up and down like a Garrison RA finding a stain on your uniform during morning inspection, “get rid of that scent.”

“What,” you ask plainly, “scent.”

The alien raises a hairless muscle over its eye. The gesture is human enough. “Voltron has docked here.” 

It was subterfuge. Both of you were in the same line of work, you could do this dance in your sleep. “As far as I know, yes.” You are careful to keep your expression neutral, feeling stupid for not having used negating get. It wasn’t even rationed, but used pretty widely. There were many aliens who relied primarily on scent, and those whose sense of smell was far sharper than yours. 

“Mm.”

You hold their gaze. 

You weren’t one to waver.

“Any further questions?”

“None.”

“Good.”

You walk blithely back to your room, intending to shower, again, and probably take care of the warmth in your gut. The heat was like an uncomfortable itch under your skin that stubbornly remained no matter how much you ignored it. 

How was it even possible that Keith was any part alien let alone Galra? You were pretty sure the entire planet would have known if the Galra arrived on the planet. 

It was intriguing. 

Your mind drew up the details you knew, trying to make them fit. It was half mental exercise, half the urge to actually get to the bottom of this. Keith didn’t look half Glara like Prince Lotor and his gang of misfits. . .quarter, one sixteenth. . .

Occam's Razor. 

The mystery occupied your mind as you made it back to your quarters. 

Keith is pacing outside your door. 

How did he even know where your quarters were?

“Did you sniff your way here,” you ask, genuinely curious. Maybe the traits might not be apparent. . .just how Galra was the red paladin. You were reminded again how little you actually knew him. 

Understanding fills his eyes; he knew you knew. Keith looks over at you for a second before ducking his head dejectedly, a straw dog expecting to be run off. 

Your heart ached. 

How a paladin of Voltron could be so self conscious despite going toe to toe with the Empire on a daily basis. . .you didn’t know. They were only flesh and blood after all. 

You take pity on him, “so is this going to be a thing,” the corners of your mouth lift into a small smile. You were still a little sore. You wouldn’t mind going another few rounds. . .

But you needed to clear some things up first. 

Just how much of this between you was space Galra funkiness? 

Keith snorts, looking up, meeting your searching gaze. His shoulders were still tense, unsure that you weren’t about to tell him to shove off. Not the loner type entirely by choice then, his innate awkwardness must have made it hard to connect. 

It wasn’t a problem you’d ever had, rushing into everything headfirst, taking charge. 

“Not like there’s a lot of humans to choose from up here,” he says self-deprecatingly. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m down for some alien funkiness,” you answer evenly, taking a step towards him. He inhales sharply, looking away again, this time in thought. 

The lines of his face increase, clearly uncomfortable, frowning. 

“I can’t usually,” Keith admits in a tense voice, “smell this well. . .though I can smell better than Shiro.”

“Shiro?”

“The black paladin,” he explains, surprised he has to explain at all. 

You answer his unvoiced question, “everyone tends to focus on the color of the lion rather than the pilot inside.”

“Oh. That’s dumb.” He looks a little relieved at the anonymity that grants. 

“Is it just me then,” you ask, getting to the bottom of things. 

He nods, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking of fucking you,” he says without ceremony. 

You find yourself blushing. The connection went both ways, the very alien connection. “Don’t hate me but I think we should go to the medic.” 

Keith frowns. “Or we could just fuck.”

“That horny,” you tease, raising a brow, “or was I just that good?”

Keith cusps a hand against your cheek, his thumb running over your lips. 

Your mouth parts, the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb. 

“So you don’t want to fuck,” Keith asks, a playful smirk on his lips. 

You swallow, the urge to say yes right there as his touch on you entranced you, sending desire cascading through your body down to your toes. “This isn’t just alien weirdness is it?” You wanted it to be more. 

“No,” he shakes his head, his breath mingling with yours. “That’s-I’m not that impulsive.”

“Good,” you mutter, pressing your body against his, and opening the door to your room.

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 2

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The aftermath of matching with your boss on Tinder.

Word Count: 3,344

Warnings: FILTHY SMUT, boss x employee affair, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected office sex 🤷🏻‍♀️

A/N: Hmmm yes, part 2 of The Match is finally out and I hope this did not disappoint 😂

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“Am I really doing this?”

You asked yourself in the mirror before making a face, “Of course I am.” You huffed out and adjusted your breasts inside your bra.

After your brief yet tension-filled encounter with James, you sprinted to the bathroom as soon as you reached your floor. And mind you, you did that while wearing a tight pencil skirt and a pair of heels. It really surprised you how your thirst made you do that with ease.

If there was an olympics dedicated for thirsty bitches trying to get some, you’d probably bring home the gold with how fast you moved.

You checked your watch for the time, you still had ten minutes left so you made sure to fix yourself up. Of course, the logical part of your brain was screaming for you to get a grip because really? You were going to let your boss fuck you? In his office? During work hours? You were at a damn risk here; you could get caught or even worse, lose your job. But was that going to stop you?

Hell fucking no.

Checking yourself out in the mirror one last time, you let out a deep breath and walked out. Maybe you were just being hyper aware given that you were headed to your boss’ office to get fucked, but you felt uncomfortable as you passed by your colleagues. You offered them polite smiles and tried to act normal. Thank god the elevator was just a few steps away.

“Oh thank goodness, there you are.” Your manager immediately blocked your way and handed you a couple of folders.

“I need you to make a report out of these. I have a presentation before lunch.” She explained.

You frowned, “I’m sorry but aren’t you supposed to do these, not me? Besides, Ja— Mister Barnes called requested me to see him in his office.”

Your manager used to be on the same level as you were but was promoted a couple of months ago. Why? You absolutely have no idea. She wasn’t the best at her job, in fact, you felt like the promotion should’ve been yours. Since she became your manager, she had been passing some of her tasks to you and snatching away the credit like a fucking bitch.

Your managed narrowed her eyes at you, “The James Barnes requested for you? Why?” She asked suspiciously, hands on her hips.

Of course she would be suspicious, you never worked with James before. But the fact that you were going there for a completely different reason made you sweat.

You breathed out through your nose, shaking your head and avoiding your manager’s gaze. “I...who knows? I mean, I have no idea why. He just told me to see him in his office and that’s about it. I really don’t know the reason, why would he even ask for me? Probably not a big deal, it’s very normal to ask a subordinate into your office, right? Do you know why he asked for me?” You were a blabbering mess at this point.

Your manager scoffed, “If I did, I wouldn’t ask you.” She responded before waving a hand. “Anyway, I’ll take care of him. Go and work on the reports now. Before lunch, remember.” She commanded, pointing a finger at you before walking away.

“Wait! But I...” you trailed, looking at the folders in your hand before checking your watch. Five minutes left. “...I was gonna get fucked...” you whispered in disappointment before stomping your way back to your cubicle.

The tantrums you made when you reached your desk didn’t go unnoticed. Who wouldn’t be grumpy anyway? Your manager just cockblocked you on your way to get some D, and it’s not even some regular D. James would probably be balls-deep in you now but instead, you were getting fucked by a report that wasn’t even supposed to be your responsibility.

You were typing away on your computer when you noticed the office chatter start to die down, the loud conversations transforming into hushed whispers. The HR probably paid your floor a visit, you thought and continued to work on the report.

“Any reason why you’re here and not in my office?”

Shit.

Your whole body froze at the sound of James’ voice. No wonder the entire floor grew silent, he was always in his office or out for a meeting. He wasn’t one to visit his subordinates but here he was, standing by your cubicle and looking down at you with dark eyes.

You stood up and noticed that your colleagues were watching, whispering to each other and most definitely wondering why James paid you a little visit.

“I’m sorry, I uhh there was a—“

“Mister Barnes!” Your manager greeted, a little too chirpy, when she saw James. “I was just about to head to your office to tell you that she’s working on an important report. She’ll come to your office when she’s done. I’ll make sure of it.” She said, offering James a huge smile that made you want to gag.

James kept his eyes on you, completely ignoring your manager. You licked your lips and tried your best not to break eye contact.

“And when was it okay to bypass your boss’ orders?” James asked your manager, his eyes still trained on yours.

You bit back a smirk when your manager ended up sputtering out an apology while you and James continued eye fucking each other. While being surrounded by your colleagues. This should worry you actually, the attention you were getting from everyone else seeing that the James Barnes went out of his way to see you. You couldn’t care less at the moment though, not when James was undressing you with his gaze.

“She’s not doing any report this morning. I need her in my office.” James said and tipping his head, asking you to follow him.

You were out of your cubicle in a second and quietly trailed behind James on his way to the elevator, ignoring the curious looks from every colleague you passed by. As soon as the both of you stepped inside the elevator, the torture began yet again.

Standing beside James, a little bit closer now than before, you could feel your skin prickle with goosebumps. The thought of him being all over you in a few minutes was driving you insane. Shit, you were really down to fuck him.

“You know, I don’t like waiting.” He said, turning to you.

“I’m sorry, James. I really—“

“Ah ah ah.” James tutted, backing you up against the corner of the lift— a blind spot, to keep the both you away from the CCTV inside. “That’s not how you called me earlier. Why stop now?” He asked, resting an elbow against the wall caging you with his body.

You let out a tiny whimper, your eyes landing on James’ lips as he bit them. “I’m sorry, sir.” You whispered.

He hummed, leaning forward until his nose touched your cheekbone. “Good girl.” He whispered roughly into your ear.

Your hands found their way onto James’ necktie, tugging him down when you were unable to hold back your desire. But then the elevator dinged and the both of you scrambled away from each other when the doors slid open, revealing a few employees coming from a different floor.

A chorus of greetings for James echoed as they slowly filed into the elevator, pushing you and your boss into the very back. You let out a soft gasp when you felt James’ hands on your waist as he moved behind you, feeling his erection press against your back.

“Can’t wait to have you to myself.” He whispered, sliding a hand down to you ass, giving it a firm squeeze that almost had you keening if not for the company.

-

Just a few hours earlier you were worrying about crossing paths with your boss whom you matched with on Tinder. Now, you were still worried but only about whether you and James would get caught while his face was in between your legs as you sat on his desk.

“Oh my god, right there...fuck...” you breathed out, head thrown back when James’ tongue circled your sensitive clit.

The moment you James’ office door slammed shut, he was immediately all over you. Pinning you to the wall as he hungrily kissed you, hands wandering all over your body, gripping whatever he could.

James was desperate to have a taste of you, his eyes showed it all. But surprisingly, he managed to make you even more desperate for him than he was for you. He pulled away from the bruising kiss, made you stand still as he walked over to his desk, plopping down on his seat.

His eyes scanned you hungrily as he removed his coat, followed by his tie and then unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves before rolling it up to his elbows.

“Take your panties off.” James had ordered.

Your breath hitched at the roughness of his voice. Following his orders, you reached beneath your pencil skirt and slipped off your underwear and letting it fall to your ankles before stepping out of them.

“C’mere.” James said and his voice was so tender it made you feel soft.

It’s amazing how James could go from sounding soft to almost feral, now that he was lapping up your cunt like a starved man while his subordinates went on about their work just outside.

“Let me see those tits. Been wanting to see them since I saw that bikini photo you had on your profile.” James growled, reaching up to pull down the cups of your bra, setting your breasts free.

Okay, maybe you sort of overdid your Tinder profile for someone who wasn’t really interested to hook-up. It was only one beach photo though, but now you weren’t regretting uploading it, not even a bit.

You keened when James pinched a nipple at the same time he started tongue-fucking your cunt. The entire scene was straight out of a porno, like one of those Naughty America skits minus the bad acting and terrible monologue between a CEO and his secretary.

“Keep it down, will ya? Gotta stay quiet, else we might get caught.” James warned, pulling back to watch your wetness drip down from your cunt to your asshole.

You blinked your eyes as you panted, watching James as he inserted two fingers into your sopping pussy. “Fuuuuck, James...” you whimpered.

“That’s not my name, baby.” James said, stilling his fingers and chuckling when you began wiggling your hips to get some friction.

“Sir, please...” you pleaded.

“You’ve always been an obedient one, aren’t you?” James cooed, bending down to lick a stripe against your folds while pumping his fingers in and out.

“Even doing a report that isn’t even yours, so fucking obedient.” He grunted.

Your moan was cut short when James’ phone began to ring, your eyes widening in panic when he answered it with nonchalance as if his fingers weren’t knuckle deep in your pussy.

“Hi, about time you called. You have any updates about the deal? He asked casually as he stood up from his seat.

James went on to discuss business with whoever it was on the other line. And this was all the while you sat on his desk with your skirt bunched up to your waist and legs wide open. You were about to close your legs, thinking that this rendezvous needed to be put on hold, but James was quick to grab your thigh to stop you from doing so.

You made a face at him, incredulous that he didn’t seem to have any plans of stopping. In fact, he started unbuckling his belt while keeping his eyes on you.

“Excuse me, can you hold for a sec?” James spoke into the phone before putting his mic on mute.

“Not a damn sound.” He told you and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Your mouth parted and you weren’t sure anymore whether you were nervous or aroused that your boss was about to fuck you while having a conversation over the phone. James pinched the inside of your thigh when you failed to respond.

“Yes, sir.” You quickly breathed out with a nod.

“Hi, sorry about that. Where were we?” James asked as he unzipped his pants.

Tinder never really piqued your interest that much. It was truly boredom that made you download it. There have been times when you felt like the app had its favorites; hearing your friends gush about this amazing guy they met through the app and all that shit. You almost gave up on the app that Friday night but thank goodness James appeared right before you called it quits.

If your friends were lucky for bagging an amazing guy on Tinder, it was safe to say that you hit the fucking jackpot because not only was James an amazing guy in general, but he had a very, very impressive cock as well.

You felt your pussy throb at the sight of his cock, springing free from the confines of his Calvin Kleins. It was thick and the vein on the underside of his shaft was so prominent you might as well give it a standing ovation.

James ran a tongue over his bottom lip, taking it in between his teeth when he stepped in between your legs to slide his cock along your folds. That gesture alone made your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you threw your head back from the pleasure.

James casually talked on the phone as he lined the tip of his cock to your entrance. Placing a finger on his lips to remind you to stay quiet, he watched your face as he slowly slid inside. You choked on your moan when you felt a slight sting from how his cock was stretching you out. Inch by inch, James pushed himself inside of you until he was fully sheathed.

He stretched you out so fucking good that you suddenly clenched around him, making James cough into the phone to mask the grunt that escaped his lips.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “That sounds like a tight plan, Sam.” James said through gritted teeth, looking at you pointedly as if warning you to stay put.

James started off with slow, languid thrusts, gauging for your reaction to ensure that you wouldn’t make any noise. Unfortunately for you though, James was hitting all the right spots and it would only be a matter of time that you’d end up whimpering as he fucked you onto his desk.

He sped up his thrusts, pushing into you with more force making you slide up onto his desk every time he slammed back in. Your elbows were aching from how you were leaning your entire weight against them but fuck, you wanted to remain in that position to watch James’ cock disappear into your cunt.

James appeared to be struggling from holding back as well, seeing how his face was turning red and how the veins on his neck were starting to show up. His free hand gripped your thigh tightly, keeping your legs open as he began to speed up his pace.

One particular thrust made you see stars and unconsciously, you let out a moan that immediately turned into a gasp when James wrapped his free hand around your throat.

“That sounds great, Sam. When are you free to meet to further discuss the details?” James asked, his eyes glued onto yours as he pounded into you mercilessly.

His grip around your throat tightened each time you squeaked out the tiniest noise. You were so out of it now; James was fucking you so good that it slipped your mind that you were at work and that James was, well, your boss— the CEO of the company actually.

James could feel your pussy flutter around his cock and quickly put his phone on mute before grunting, “C’mon, baby. Cum for me, make a mess on my cock.”

His command spurred you on and your climax hit you with no warning at all. The coil in your abdomen simply snapped, reducing you into a trembling mess as you came around James’ cock the same time he let go of your throat, only to cover your mouth with his hand as you let out a long, muffled whimper.

“Great, I’ll have my secretary schedule the meeting then. It was great talking to you, Sam.” James literally let his phone slip from his hand as soon as the call ended.

He held your waist with both hands as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you harder until he slipped out and came on your mound.

“Fuck...” he panted as he jerked off his cock, milking it until your folds were covered in his release.

Holy fucking shit, your boss was truly down to fuck. And it was one hell of a fuck too.

-

You had just finished cleaning up yourself when you somewhat regained your consciousness. Now what? This was what you were worried about, the aftermath of fucking the CEO.

“You good?” James asked as he sat down on his chair.

You nodded and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Yes, sir.”

“Bucky.” James corrected.

“I’m sorry?” Wait, what?

James shrugged, “If we’re going to start working closely, I prefer if you called me by my nickname.” He explained.

You frowned, “I don’t understand?”

What the hell was going on? James sorted through the stack of his papers on his desk (most of which were crumpled when you ended up grabbing them as he fucked you) and handed one over to you.

“You’re promoted as the head of your department.” He announced with a small smile.

Now you were offended. Did he promote you for letting him fuck you? Was this his plan all along? You couldn’t understand a single thing that was going on and James was attentive enough to figure out what you were thinking. You stared at the formal letter discussing your promotion and then back up at James.

“The promotion has nothing to do with us fucking.” He reassured. “Do you think I don’t pay attention to my employees? I know each and everyone in this company, their performance and how they do their jobs. And you...” James said, standing up and walking around his desk until he stood in front of you.

“I’ve been watching you for quite a while now. You have impressive skills. Your reports are exquisite, you know how to manage a team, you’re very smart. Quite the entire package.” He explained with a shrug.

“I’m not sure how my manager will take this given that—“

“That promotion was supposed to be yours but I asked the HR to give it to her instead. You deserve being more than just becoming a manager so now you’re a department head. You’re required to directly report to me moving forward.” James bit his lip as he tipped your chin.

You were at a loss for words. All this time, you thought that your hardwork and efforts haven’t been paying off.

“What do you say?” He asked, tilting his head. “And just so we’re clear, the promotion has been decided before I even stumbled upon your Tinder profile.” He explained.

You let out a chuckle, still unable to believe what had just happened. Your boss fucked you, gave you one of the best orgasms in your entire life and also gave you a promotion. Talk about good fucking luck, all thanks to Tinder.

“Uh I...yes...I’m accepting the promotion.” You said excitedly.

“Good.” James said, taking a step back from you giving you your space back.

“The announcement of the promotion will be e-mailed in a few. Congratulations and I’ll see you tonight.” James said with a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ll celebrate your promotion. You’re not just the head of your department, baby. You’re mine now.”

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar  @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​ @whoth3hellisbucky​​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @twinerd14 @bluehour-553​

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag​ @weird-mumbling​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @mostly-marvel-musings​ @squishybabies​ @megzdoodle​ @little-baby-vixen​ @annathesillyfriend​ @xhollycowx​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​ @gogolucky13​ @countonthesun​ 

[henry-and-the-seven-lords]

(u can choose for it to be a hc or anything) the brothers go to the dentist with MC and see the process of her wisdom teeth getting removed

Ok! I actually haven't had mine removed, but I have had similar dental work so I am going to base it on that!

So I got REALLY into this for a few days and then I forgot where I was going with it so it turned into headcannons with a super long intro instead of an imagine... Hope you like it!

Warnings: Mentions Dental work, Mentions Needles, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of surgical procedures

Brothers Masterlist | Datables Masterlist

Brothers Reacting to a Wisdom Teeth Removal

MC had been crying out in pain for the past couple of weeks. They had continually mentioned their teeth or jaw being the source of the problem. The Brothers did all they could in the Devildom, but in the end they decided take MC to the human world to see a dentist.

"Well, it looks like your wisdom teeth are coming in. There doesn't seem to be much room left for them, so I would suggest an extraction." The dentist looked at the x-rays and back to MC who was currently surrounded by 7 scared men.

"Extraction!? Ain't no way you are taking anything from my Hum-," Mammon caught himself, "...MC."

The doctor eyed him suspiciously before going back to the x-rays. Lucifer sighed, "Mammon. He is not taking anything. This is going to help MC."

"Will it hurt?" Beel had made his way through the crowd of his Brothers to talk to the doctor.

"They won't feel a thing while they're under. There could be some aching after the procedure, but as long as it is properly taken care of there will be no complications."

The Brothers breathed a sigh of relief after hearing this.

"I'll go through with it." MC pipes up.

The doctor smiles and says, "Wonderful. You can set up an appointment and get the paperwork at the front desk." He then turned on his heel shutting the door behind him, leaving MC and the Brother alone in the room.

"Are you sure this is the best idea, MC?" Levi's voice shakes as he speaks.

"It'll be fine guys. This is a common human procedure, plus I have all of you to help me afterwards." This seemed to easy their qualms. MC went to the front desk and scheduled the surgery sometime during the next week.

Before they knew it, a week had almost passed and the procedure was to take place the next morning. All of the Brothers were frantically running around trying to prepare until Lucifer finally got their attention.

"I want all of you to listen closely," He stood tall and spoke to his brothers now gather in front of him.

"MC is not allowed to eat anything after dinner tonight. They are only allowed to drink water," Beel's face turned sullen, as MC was usually his partner in crime for midnight raids of the fridge.

"The surgery is said to take two hours," Levi's face lit up at the thought of being home early enough to join his team in game and maybe even have MC assist. Only for it to fall again as Lucifer continued, "But before we come home, we will need to pick up some human pain medicine for when the medicine from the surgery wears off."

Asmo seemed quite intrigued with the mention of shopping in the human world, but his thoughts were cut short when Lucifer added, "And we will not be picking up anything else."

Lucifer sighed before continuing, "I have already made a shift schedule for who will take care of MC when we get home. It is in the center of the table." Satan reached for the paper as Lucifer droned on while Mammon peered over his shoulder.

"I will also be giving you instructions on how to change out the guaze and other things to stay away from." Lucifer gave the stack of packets to Belphie who didn't even take one. He just yawned and passed them to Beel.

"MC will be unable to participate in most activities for at least four days. So put any schemes you have on hold until they feel better. Understood?" Lucifer's words were stern as he glared at all of his Brothers.

"Understood." They all groan in unison.

MC, meanwhile, had taken their seat at the table and has began to fill their plate.

Satan grabs his pamphlet and sits across from MC. He quickly flips through the papers before skeptically looking up at them.

"You are confident that this is safe?" He eyes the human nervously as they swallow their food.

"Sure it can't be that bad. Some of my friends had it done and they're still alive." The brothers look between themselves as they all begin to read the possible outcomes of the procedure.

Dinner ends with everyone but MC and Beel leaving their plates mostly full. Slowly they all go their separate ways to their rooms.

When morning arrives, Lucifer wakes everyone up. He quickly goes through the house and rushes everyone out the door in order forC to get to the human world on time. It takes a lot of effort, but the group eventually makes it up to the office in one piece.

Asmo sits next to MC holding their hand and talking to them, "They better not mess up your face. If they so much as make a wrinkle on your skin. I will personally tear them apart."

MC chuckles, "Asmo. They have to have something to keep my mouth open. Don't be so dramatic."

As MC finishes their statement, their name is called and the group goes back with them.

They watch as the dentist helps MC into the chair resembling a torture device as he talks to them.

"You should be out for about two hours, you didn't eat or drink anything correct?"

MC shakes their head no and the doctor smiles before putting on his surgical mask, "Great! Then let's start the procedure."

The brothers gather around MC gently laying their hands on the human's body as the needle penetrates the human's arm.

"I'll be fine guys... Don't worry... One... Bit..." They watch as MC's head slowly lulls towards them. They look at the doctor in fear only to be quickly ushered out by the nurses.

Thankfully, there was a small room where they could sit and watched MC being worked on.

As they watched horror struck their faces.

💙 Lucifer

He really just trusted the process and had no idea what was going to happen.

So when he sees a tube being shoved down MC's throat he is upset and nearly breaks down the glass.

Then he remembers that MC is doing this to feel better and restrains himself.

But only because MC wants this done.

💛 Mammon

Mammon did not like this idea from the beginning! It sounded to dangerous and no one should be taking ANYTHING from MC (besides him).

Definitely was not happy when he started to watch them cut into their gums and blood started to get everywhere.

Lucifer and Beel had to hold him back so he didn't rampage.

Immediately grabs MC when this is all over and does not let them go.

🧡 Leviathan

Levi thought this would be a quick and easy process because it was only going to take two hours.

So they pull out a tooth and that is it right? Wrong.

He is horrified when he realizes they have to cut the teeth out and sew MC back together.

Why would they agree to something so invasive!? Why is this normal for humans!?

💚 Satan

He did a bunch of research and was the reason they went to a human dentist in the first place.

He knew what the entire procedure would entail and even tried to tell MC that it was pretty intense.

But he wasn't going to go against MC's wishes if they wanted to get it done.

Definitely stepped out of the room when it was happening... He didn't want to see it.

💖 Asmodeus

Asmodeus was fine to do anything that MC agreed with, then he saw them pulling their cheeks back and he got angry.

He was quite upset that they were stretching MC's precious skin! They could get wrinkled! And don't even get him started on the tube in their throat.

He wanted to march into the room and stopped them, but he remembered how much pain MC was in and that they needed to get it done.

He will get revenge later. Right now, he is focusing on MC.

❤ Beelzebub

Beel just wants to make sure MC is safe and feeling better no matter the cost or procedure.

So when he starts to see all the terrible stuff happening, he steps out with Satan to get some snacks.

By the time he comes back full, the procedure is over and he can walk in with everyone else as they wait for MC to wake up.

He did save MC one bag of chips... he was worried about them not eating breakfast...

💜 Belphegor

Belphie would be upset at what's happening, but more upset that he can't be next to MC to take a nap.

He definitely cares about them being safe, but he knows they agreed to it and human procedures are weird so he isn't too worried.

He just wants to take a nap and he needs his human pillow.

He will lean on MC's arm and immediately fall asleep whenever he is allowed in to see a groggy MC.