#but i know how heavily her fears weigh over her

[rameiixo]

“then what was it all for?”

( please no spoilers in tags! )

[reidmarieprentiss]

Turning Tables

Summary: The team finds you and Spencer, you come back to work after recovering, things are tense. Spencer realizes he messed up, but you're not so quick to forgive.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (16+), mentions of hookup culture, talks of cases, reader is heavily assaulted by unsub, broken bones, dumb man Spencer, missed signals, bad communication

Word count: 6.9k

a/n: hiii there will be a part three!!

main masterlist part one part three

The team finally found the two of you in the abandoned warehouse, but the sight they came upon was brutal. Spencer had a black eye and a split lip from being hit, his face bruised and bloodied, but you— you had taken the worst of it. The unsub had unleashed relentless violence on you. You’d been slapped, punched, kicked, spit on, cut, and thrown around like a ragdoll. The unsub’s twisted plan was clear: break Spencer by hurting you, the "weaker" hostage, using your suffering to force him into talking. But you both knew that wasn’t an option. Spencer couldn’t give the unsub what he wanted, no matter how much it tore him apart to watch you take those blows.

Every hit that landed on you felt like it was striking Spencer himself. He watched, helpless, feeling the pain of every blow as though it was his own flesh being torn and bruised. Yet he remained silent, knowing that any begging or pleading from him would only make the unsub escalate. He couldn’t give them that. He couldn’t put you through more than what you were already enduring, though it felt like it was killing him inside to watch.

When the team finally stormed in, you were unconscious, your body battered and limp as they carted you away on a stretcher to the waiting ambulance. Hotch approached Spencer, his voice calm but filled with concern as he asked, "What happened to Y/N?"

Spencer, sitting in the back of another ambulance, stared blankly ahead. His shoulders were slumped, weighed down by the guilt and horror of what had transpired. His voice was quiet, flat. “She was the target.”

Hotch took in Spencer's empty gaze, the exhaustion and anguish etched into every line of his face, and knew better than to press for more. They’d have to wait until you woke up to understand the full scope of what happened in that warehouse. But even then, Hotch feared that some wounds might never truly heal.

—

You eventually did wake up, groggy but relieved to find that, despite the brutality you endured, you had very little internal damage. The doctors assured you that your body just needed time to heal. Two weeks of paid leave were granted as you recovered, a rare gesture of empathy from Chief Strauss, who seemed to have a soft spot for you.

As the painkillers faded and your mind cleared, the questions from your team began. You sat with them, still feeling tender but able to think straight, recounting everything you remembered from that night. You and Spencer had been investigating a house, following up on an anonymous tip. It seemed routine until the moment you two split up to check different rooms. That’s when it happened—ambushed from behind, a cloth drenched in chloroform shoved over your mouth. After that, everything went black.

"I only remember waking up inside the warehouse with Spencer," you explained, your voice steady but laced with tension. The memories still fresh, the pain still vivid. "The unsub wanted me. I was the real target. They said I was more of a challenge than any of their other victims."

JJ, sitting beside you, asked softly, her voice gentle and careful. “Why did they take Spencer?”

You heaved a breath, feeling the weight of the answer on your chest. “They thought if they took him too, they could find out where the rest of the team was. They wanted Spencer to tell you all it was a dead end, to send you off on a different trail.” You paused, your breath shaking as you continued. “They said if Spencer did that, they’d release him. But they made it clear… they just wanted me.”

The room was silent for a moment, the gravity of your words hanging in the air. Your team exchanged glances, but no one said anything. They didn’t need to. You all understood what it meant—that the unsub was willing to let Spencer go, but you were never supposed to walk out of that warehouse alive.

—

When you returned to work after your leave, the atmosphere shifted. The entire team was happy to have you back, and there were warm smiles all around. Spencer, however, seemed unsure how to approach you now. Still, he smiled as you passed by, his voice tentative yet sincere as he said, “I’m really glad you’re back and feeling better.”

You returned the smile, a brief and polite response escaping your lips. “Thanks, Spencer. I appreciate it.” The exchange was short, almost too brief, and you both seemed to sense the unspoken tension lingering between you. It didn’t go unnoticed, especially not by JJ, who had grown close to you since the incident. She had been your rock, someone you confided in more and more. 

When she found a quiet moment alone with you, JJ slipped into the conversation with ease. “Hey, how’s your first day back?” she asked with her trademark smile, though there was a hint of something deeper in her tone.

You shrugged lightly, trying to mask any unease. “Same as usual, I guess. It feels good to be working again, though. I was getting restless at home.”

JJ laughed knowingly, nodding. “I know exactly what you mean.” Then, her voice dropped, softer now, as she leaned in slightly. “Did something happen between you and Spence?”

The question caught you off guard, your brows knitting in surprise. Did Spencer say something to her? You quickly tried to brush it off with a joke. “Other than, you know, getting kidnapped together? Not that I know of.”

But JJ wasn’t convinced. She made a face like she wasn’t buying your casual response. “Are you sure? You two haven’t really been talking much. I guess I just assumed something like that would have brought you closer… in a weird, awful sort of way.”

You let out a short laugh, trying to deflect again. “Yeah… we didn’t get the trauma bonding memo, I guess.”

JJ still looked skeptical, her eyes scanning your face for cracks in your armor. “Okay, well… just, if you need to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to go through anything alone.”

Her offer was genuine, and the sincerity in her voice made you pause. You smiled back at her, feeling a small but comforting warmth settle in. “Thanks, JJ. I really appreciate that.”

Across the bullpen, Spencer had been listening to the conversation from his desk, his heart aching at what JJ was implying. He’d been mulling over the same thought—that the trauma you both went through should have drawn you closer. Shared experiences like that often created a bond, an unspoken connection forged in survival. But instead, he could feel the distance between you growing wider, and it tore him up inside.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how hard this must be for you, how you were facing it all alone. You were still relatively new to the team, and as far as Spencer knew, this was your first time being kidnapped. After his first time, he had shut everyone out. Granted, he’d been addicted to drugs back then, but that isolation still hadn’t been the right path. It had only deepened the pain, and he feared you might be doing the same thing.

He could only hope you were receiving the support you needed—support he wasn’t sure he could give you anymore.

—

Later that week, you found yourself in the kitchen, trying to ignore the sharp ache in your side as you reached for a mug to make tea. The pain in your ribs flared up with every stretch, the broken bones protesting loudly. As your arm extended toward the cupboard, the burning sensation became unbearable, and you yelped, clutching your side in an attempt to steady yourself.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was filled with concern as he walked into the room just in time to see you wince in pain. He was by your side in an instant, his hands hovering uncertainly, as if he wanted to help but wasn’t sure how far he could go. “Are you okay?”

You grunted, trying to downplay the pain. “I’m fine, just... need a mug.”

Spencer gave a small, understanding nod before stepping in to help. He reached up with ease, grabbing the mug he knew was your favorite—the one you always used for your tea. “Here,” he said softly, placing it on the counter in front of you. “Making tea?”

A small flutter stirred in your chest at the realization that he remembered both your favorite mug and your preference for tea. It was such a small detail, but it felt significant in that moment, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond that still lingered between you despite everything.

—

You laughed as you watched Spencer pour himself yet another cup of coffee. “It’s three in the afternoon, Spencer! Who drinks coffee this late?”

Spencer chuckled along with you, lifting his cup with a playful grin. “Me! Obviously!” he said, gesturing toward the steaming mug with a mock sense of pride.

You bumped his hip with yours, gently nudging him out of the way as you reached for the kettle. “Well, some of us actually like to sleep,” you teased, your tone light and playful.

What you didn’t notice was the way Spencer had stared at you after that, a soft, affectionate gaze lingering on your face, the kind of look that held more meaning than words could express.

—

“Yeah, thanks,” you sighed, knowing you needed the help but still feeling a little self-conscious about it.

Without missing a beat, Spencer grabbed your favorite tea from the cupboard and began steeping it for you, his movements calm and precise. He didn’t ask if you needed more assistance—he just did it, like he knew exactly what you needed in that moment. It was a silent kindness, one that reminded you of the Spencer you knew before everything had gotten so complicated.

As the tea steeped, you leaned back slightly, watching him with gratitude and lingering uncertainty. The simplicity of the moment, of him helping you with something as mundane as making tea, felt like a brief return to the way things used to be between you.

“Do you need help with anything else?” Spencer asked, his gaze fixed on the steaming mug in front of him rather than meeting your eyes. His tone was casual, but there was something tense beneath it, something unspoken that lingered between the two of you.

You frowned, feeling a bit of confusion and then a flicker of annoyance rising up. Was he only doing this out of guilt? You straightened up slightly, crossing your arms over your chest despite the ache in your ribs.

“Look, I appreciate your help, but you don’t have to suck up to me because of what happened,” you said, your words sharper than you intended. You regretted it immediately, but the frustration had been bubbling beneath the surface for a while now—how careful everyone was being around you, how things with Spencer had grown so strange and distant since the kidnapping.

Spencer froze for a moment, his hand still resting on the counter as he absorbed your words. His jaw tightened, and for a second, he didn’t move or say anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady. “I’m not… sucking up to you.”

You huffed, unsure where this conversation was heading but feeling the tension building between you. “Then what is this? You’ve barely said two words to me since I came back, and now suddenly you’re… what? Trying to make up for it by being overly nice?”

Spencer’s shoulders stiffened, and he finally turned to face you, his expression guarded. “I’m just trying to help,” he said, his voice measured, like he was trying not to let his own emotions show. “I know things are… different now. But I didn’t want to push you into talking or pretending everything’s okay if it’s not. That’s all.”

The frustration in you wavered, your annoyance softening as you realized he wasn’t trying to guilt-trip or coddle you. He was as lost in this new dynamic as you were, both of you navigating the aftermath of something you hadn’t fully processed. His hesitation wasn’t about sucking up—it was about not knowing how to be around you anymore.

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to fix this, or me.”

Spencer's eyes softened slightly as he watched you, his own uncertainty flickering across his face. “I’m not trying to fix anything,” he said, almost a whisper now. “I just… don’t want to make things worse.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and suddenly the air felt heavy, filled with everything you both hadn’t said since the warehouse.

“Worse, right,” you scoffed, the bitterness lacing your voice before you could stop it. “Sorry I started an awful chain of events.” You could feel the hurt bubbling up again, the weight of rejection you’d been carrying ever since that day in the warehouse. It wasn’t just the physical pain—it was the emotional bruise left behind, the wound that hadn’t healed.

Spencer looked at you, his expression faltering. He opened his mouth as if to respond but then hesitated, unsure of how to mend what had already spiraled so far out of control. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said softly, his words stumbling out in a rush. “We were under a lot of stress… sometimes people say things they don’t mean, searching for comfort.”

You felt your heart drop at his words. He thought it was just a fleeting moment, something you’d said out of desperation. That stung worse than anything. You blinked back the frustration and the tears that were threatening to spill over, the pain in your side flaring as you tried to catch your breath.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed out, the door to the break room slamming behind you with a sharp, echoing crack.

Spencer stood there, stunned, the sound of the door slamming reverberating in the silence. He hadn’t meant to make things worse. He didn’t realize until it was too late that you hadn’t just left the conversation—you had left the room entirely, and maybe… left something between you both behind.

He clenched his hands into fists, a knot tightening in his stomach. He didn’t know how to make this right, how to undo the damage that had already been done. All he knew was that you had walked away and it felt as if he was losing you for good.

—

Things on the team settled into a new rhythm, even if it wasn’t quite the same. Everyone seemed to accept that you and Spencer were no longer as close as you had once been, though there was an undercurrent of tension. The two of you weren’t assigned together anymore, and that seemed to smooth things out for the most part. But it didn’t go unnoticed that Spencer kept a quiet distance, while you partnered up with Derek in the field.

Spencer couldn’t shake the bitterness that crept in when he saw you with Derek. He couldn’t help but wonder if Hotch had reassigned you because he thought Spencer couldn’t protect you, that you needed someone strong like Derek to keep you safe. The thought left him feeling sour, inadequate, like he’d somehow failed. But then, just as quickly, he’d get mad at himself for even thinking that way. You didn’t need protecting. You were more than capable of handling yourself in the field. You had survived worse than most, even if he couldn’t bear to watch it happen.

What gnawed at him most, though, was how happy you seemed with Derek. The way you laughed and joked with him, talking easily like you once did with Spencer. It stirred something ugly inside him, something he didn’t want to admit. He couldn’t deny that Derek was the kind of man who seemed perfect—strong, confident, and charming. A man who could sweep anyone off their feet. He hated that it bothered him, but he’d never allow himself to admit that he was afraid you’d fall for Derek. That kind of jealousy was too much to confront.

You, on the other hand, were content with your new partnership. Derek was easygoing and didn’t pry into your personal life. He let you manage things on your own terms, only asking questions when you willingly brought something up. It was a refreshing change, especially after everything that had happened with Spencer. You didn’t want to talk about what had gone wrong. You were too embarrassed, too ashamed of how vulnerable you had felt. It was easier to leave it behind, buried where no one could see the cracks.

But despite the professional ease, there was still a part of you that missed what you and Spencer once had, even if you’d never admit that either.

—

On one particular case, you and Derek celebrated the capture of an unsub with a big, triumphant hug. In the heat of the moment, you jumped into his arms, and he caught you effortlessly, spinning you around as the rest of the team cheered. It had been the two of you who made the breakthrough that led to the unsub’s hideout, and everyone was thrilled. You were beaming, caught up in the excitement of the team.

But Spencer, standing on the sidelines, was stewing. His mind kept replaying the mistake he had made, the detail he had missed that Derek had caught. And now, it was Derek who had caught you, too. Watching the two of you laughing, hugging, and celebrating felt like a punch to his gut. His insecurities gnawed at him, building into a quiet anger that simmered beneath the surface.

The rest of the team, however, smiled at the sight of you, happy to see you so joyful and healed enough to engage in lighthearted horseplay with Derek. The dark cloud that had followed you since the kidnapping seemed to have lifted, and it was a relief to everyone.

When the team returned to Quantico, Penelope was quick to corral everyone for celebratory drinks at the local bar. You stuck close to JJ and Penelope, grateful for their company as the night went on. After a few drinks, they pulled you out onto the dance floor, laughter bubbling up between the three of you as the music played. You let yourself go, dancing with JJ and Penelope, the worries of the past few months fading in the glow of the evening.

But it wasn’t until Derek joined you girls on the dance floor that something shifted. Spencer, sitting at the bar, felt a surge of jealousy flood through him. Derek was there again, touching your arm, laughing with you, spinning you around as the girls cheered. Spencer’s vision blurred with red-hot anger, the insecurities and feelings he had been burying for weeks now boiling over.

Before he could think twice, Spencer stormed over, grabbing Derek by the arm and pulling him outside the bar. The sudden outburst left Derek confused, glancing at Spencer with genuine concern. “What the hell, Reid?” Derek asked, his voice sharp with confusion but tinged with worry. “Are you okay?”

Spencer was breathing heavily, steam practically pouring out of his ears as he glared at Derek. “Do you like her?” he snapped, his voice cracking with frustration.

Derek blinked, taken aback. “Who? Like who, Reid?”

“Y/N!” Spencer shouted, his voice louder than he intended. “You keep touching her, and dancing with her, and laughing like—like you’re trying to be with her!”

Derek’s face softened in realization, and he held up his hands defensively, trying to calm Spencer down. “Whoa, whoa, kid,” Derek said slowly, his tone measured. “You think something’s going on with me and Y/N?”

Spencer’s chest heaved as he struggled to control the emotions that had been brewing for so long. “I… I don’t know. I just—every time I see you with her, I can’t help but think you’re—”

Derek cut him off gently, shaking his head. “Spencer, man, it’s not like that. We’re friends. That’s it.”

But Spencer wasn’t ready to accept it. “Then why do you keep acting like that with her? I see it, Derek! You’re always laughing with her, touching her, like you’re… like you’re taking my place.”

Derek sighed, finally starting to understand what was bubbling beneath the surface. “Alright, Reid. What’s going on? ‘Taking your place’? You know Hotch was the one who reassigned us all. It’s just work, man.”

Spencer huffed in frustration, his foot kicking at the loose gravel beneath him. His mind raced, emotions swirling, but he couldn’t seem to piece together a coherent response. He felt like a rubber band stretched too far, about to snap, and it wasn’t just about work. He knew that much.

Derek watched him closely, reading the tension in Spencer’s body, the unease in his eyes. “That’s not what you meant, though, is it?” Derek questioned carefully, his tone soft but pressing for the truth.

Spencer’s shoulders tensed even further, his head dipping slightly as he tried to find the right words. “I… I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice shaky with frustration. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to confront what was really bothering him. But he also couldn’t stand feeling like this—watching from the sidelines, seeing you with Derek, seeing you laugh and smile like he wasn’t even part of your life anymore.

Derek took a step closer, lowering his voice so only Spencer could hear. “There’s more, isn’t there?” he asked, but he wasn’t accusing. He was just trying to get Spencer to open up, to confront whatever it was that had him spiraling.

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, staring at the ground as his heart pounded. “I… I didn’t mean for there to be,” he admitted quietly, his voice strained. “It’s just… I don’t know how to be around her anymore. Everything’s different, and I—I don’t know how to fix it.”

Derek nodded slowly, understanding dawning. “You care about her. More than you’re letting on.”

Spencer’s silence was answer enough. He cared about you deeply—more than he had ever allowed himself to admit, even to himself. And now, watching you get closer to Derek while he kept his distance, it felt like he was losing you, piece by piece.

“I don’t know what happened in that warehouse," Derek began, his voice steady and understanding. "I read the report, but I’m sure there were some forgotten details… stuff that can’t be put into words.” He paused for a moment, giving Spencer a chance to process what he was saying. “If there’s something you need to tell her, just do it, Reid. Y/N isn’t the type to laugh at you or shut you out.”

Spencer sniffled, the tears coming against his will, his emotions too raw to hold back any longer. “I... I know that,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the strain. He wiped at his eyes, feeling small and overwhelmed. “I just want to go back to how things were,” he complained softly, his words sounding almost petulant, like a child wanting to undo what couldn’t be undone.

Derek’s heart softened at Spencer’s admission. He had seen this kind of pain before, knew how trauma could twist things, how it could fracture even the strongest of bonds. “That’s not gonna happen, kid,” Derek said with sympathy, shaking his head gently. “What happened to the two of you… that changes people. It changes the way you see the world, and it changes how you see each other.”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the weight of those words sink in. He knew Derek was right. He knew things had changed, that he had changed, and so had you. But hearing it made the ache in his chest sharper, more real.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t rebuild together,” Derek added, his voice hopeful. “It’s not about going back to how things were, Spencer. It’s about moving forward—together. You’ve both been through hell, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. You still have a chance.”

Spencer looked up at Derek, his eyes filled with uncertainty and vulnerability. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

Derek shook his head, giving Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s only too late if you give up on her. Don’t wait until you lose her for good before you try to fix things. You care about her, Reid. She needs to hear that from you.”

Spencer took a deep breath, nodding slightly, though the fear still gnawed at him. He didn’t know if he was ready, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. He had to find the courage to face you, to face what had changed, and to see if there was still a chance to rebuild the connection he had feared was lost forever.

After their tense conversation outside the bar, Spencer headed home, deciding it was best not to linger. He didn’t want to ruin your night by bringing up anything uncomfortable, and the idea of watching you dance with Derek—or worse, with other men—was too much for him. The weight of jealousy and regret was already suffocating, and he needed space to figure out what he was really feeling.

It turned out to be a good thing he left when he did. After Spencer and Derek stepped outside, you were approached by a very handsome, very suave man. He had an easy charm about him, the kind that made conversation flow effortlessly. His flirtatious smile and smooth lines quickly caught your attention, and for the first time in a while, you felt yourself relax, enjoying the moment without overthinking it.

One drink turned into two, and before you knew it, the night had slipped away. The man offered to take you home, and in the haze of alcohol and the desire to forget the complicated feelings with Spencer, you agreed. You didn’t want to think about what had been left unsaid, about the tension between you and Spencer, or how much everything had changed.

That night, you went home with the charming stranger, eager to escape the weight of the unresolved emotions that had been building for weeks. But in the back of your mind, even as you tried to lose yourself in someone new, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just another way of avoiding what you were really feeling.

—

That one night started a fire inside you, one that you hadn’t realized had been smoldering beneath the surface for so long. The realization that—even if it was just for a fleeting moment—you were wanted, desired, was intoxicating. After everything that had happened with Spencer, after feeling rejected and unsure of yourself, it was refreshing to be wanted without complications or emotional baggage.

The feeling of being desired, even if only for one night at a time, ignited something within you. It gave you a sense of control, of freedom, and it felt good—so good—to be seen as someone worth chasing. So you leaned into it. You found your place in the hookup culture, where the rules were simple and the emotional weight was nonexistent. One night, one person, no strings attached.

And it was fun. The thrill of meeting someone new, the brief connection that didn’t require anything more than mutual attraction, gave you a rush. Sure, the expense of condoms and the constant reminder to stay on top of frequent STD testing was a minor annoyance, but it was worth it for the feeling of power and liberation that came with it.

You felt like you were finally getting your fix, like the hole that had been left after your complicated feelings with Spencer was being filled—albeit temporarily. It wasn’t about love or deep connection anymore. It was about reclaiming something for yourself, something you hadn’t realized you were missing. You had found an escape, and for now, that was enough.

But then, one day, you made a mistake—a slip of the tongue in the office. You weren’t necessarily trying to keep your new lifestyle a secret, but you hadn’t planned on making it common knowledge either. Your friends and coworkers didn’t need to know every detail of how you were trying to get over Spencer, how you had buried your hurt in casual flings to escape the complicated feelings lingering from the rejection.

It happened when Penelope asked about your weekend plans in the bullpen. You casually mentioned that you were busy, but the response sparked curiosity.

"Busy? With what?" JJ asked, her eyes narrowing playfully. As your close friend, she felt like she would have known if you had something going on. She sensed something was off.

You laughed awkwardly, realizing you had stepped into dangerous territory. "Uh, just... seeing a man."

Penelope's face lit up with excitement. "You have a date?" she asked, her glee impossible to hide.

"Not exactly..." you trailed off, hoping the conversation would end there, but you should’ve known better.

Derek, never one to miss an opportunity to tease, raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. "Little miss thing, do you have a scheduled booty call?" he asked, his tone filled with mischief.

Your face flushed fiercely, the blush creeping up your neck. The small, involuntary smile on your lips gave you away instantly, and before you could protest, Penelope squealed with delight, while JJ chuckled in surprise.

"Oh my god!" Penelope exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "You minx! Why didn’t you tell us?"

You tried to play it cool, shrugging lightly. "I mean, it’s nothing serious. Just… you know… having some fun."

But what you didn’t notice was Spencer, who had overheard the entire conversation from across the bullpen. His face paled, and his heart sank as the reality of your words hit him like a freight train. You were seeing other people. You were sleeping with other men, and it was painfully clear—you were trying to get over him.

The girl he had always wanted—you—had wanted him back. That truth crashed into him with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for, and the weight of it left him standing frozen, unable to process how much he had lost. Spencer felt the deep ache of regret, gnawing at him with every word you spoke to your friends. You had moved on—or at least, you were trying to. And it was all because of him, because he had pushed you away when you had been vulnerable, honest, and open with him.

At that moment, Spencer couldn’t deny it any longer. He finally admitted it to himself—he wants you. He likes you. Maybe he even loves you. He always has. 

The realization of what he had been running from all this time hit him harder than any unsub ever could. He had been too scared to face it, too afraid of messing things up between you, too unsure of how to handle his own feelings. But now, watching you laugh awkwardly with your coworkers about casual hookups and hearing how you were slipping further and further away from him, it became painfully clear—he had already messed things up. 

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, his mind racing with the weight of what he'd been denying for so long. He wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you laughed with, the one you came home to after a long day. He wanted to be more than your friend, more than someone you used to be close to. He wanted you in his life, in every possible way.

—

Spencer had always been on your speed dial—back when things were simpler, back when you called him almost every day, your friendship close and easy. So when his phone buzzed after 11 p.m. on a Saturday, his first instinct wasn’t concern. But after everything that had happened between the two of you lately, the timing made him uneasy. This wasn’t normal anymore. He hadn’t heard from you in weeks, not like this, and certainly not at this hour.

His heart pounded as he grappled for the phone, his mind racing. If you were calling him this late, something had to be wrong. He didn’t hesitate for a second, fumbling to answer as quickly as possible, already imagining the worst. “Y/N?” he called out into the phone, his voice tense with worry. “Y/N, are you okay?”

But instead of your voice answering, what he heard stopped him cold.

It was faint at first, a muffled noise, but as he strained to listen, the unmistakable sounds of… pain? groaning? It left him on edge, his panic rising. His mind raced, thinking the worst—had you been hurt? Were you in danger? He called your name again, louder, more frantic this time. “*Y/N!*”

But still, no response from you. Just the sounds, growing clearer, louder.

And then, it hit him like a punch to the gut. Through the haze of sounds on the other end, he heard a man’s voice, moaning your name.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat as realization dawned painfully, his stomach twisting. You hadn’t called him on purpose. You had buttdialled him during a hookup. The groans, the noises that he had thought were of pain—they weren’t what he had feared. They were… something entirely different.

His hands shook as he stared at the phone, the pit in his stomach growing. He could hear everything, the intimacy, the passion—things that weren’t meant for him, things he should never have been privy to. The knowledge of what was happening, of who was with you right now, left him reeling.

He hung up, the phone slipping from his grasp onto the bed. Spencer sat there, stunned, trying to process what had just happened. It was the harshest reminder of what he had lost, of what he had pushed away. You were moving on. You were finding comfort in someone else. And here he was, on the other end of a phone call that was never meant to be made.

For the first time, Spencer felt the full weight of what he had done. He had pushed you away, too scared to face his own feelings, and now he was watching—no, hearing—you slip further away from him. The girl he had always wanted, the one who had wanted him, was now with someone else. And all he could do was sit there, helpless, with the sharp, bitter taste of regret heavy on his tongue.

—

You were blissfully unaware that you had called Spencer the night before. After a fun, carefree night with a man whose name you couldn’t even remember, you woke up feeling satisfied and content. It wasn’t until the next day, when you went to call Penelope, that your heart stopped. Staring at your call log, your eyes widened in horror as you saw the call to Spencer. A call that had lasted for several minutes. 

You quickly checked the time. It had definitely been when you and what’s his name were together. Oh god. A pit formed in your stomach as the realization hit you—did Spencer hear anything? Your mind raced, mortified by the idea. You hadn’t spoken to him much lately, and now, this? It was beyond awkward.

By Monday morning, you were terrified to face Spencer. The embarrassment gnawed at you, and the thought of seeing him after that accidental call made your stomach churn. When you arrived at the office, you tried to keep your head down, praying the situation would somehow blow over. But as soon as you made it to your desk, Spencer stormed over, his face set in a hard, unreadable expression.

“Y/N,” he said lowly, his voice tense, “a word.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You nodded silently, following Spencer into the hall, the weight of what you feared was coming making it hard to breathe.

Before he could speak, you blurted out, “Listen, Spencer, I’m sorry—” You didn’t even know how to finish the sentence, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was grappling with something—whether to be angry, hurt, or simply frustrated. “You called me,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with something else you couldn’t quite place. “I heard... a lot.”

Your heart sank even further. He did hear. “Spencer, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you said quickly, desperate to explain. “It was an accident. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Just…” Spencer interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, clearly uncomfortable. His voice was quieter now, but the tension between you was palpable. “Please don’t do that again. It was horribly uncomfortable.”

You winced, guilt washing over you. The last thing you had ever wanted was to make Spencer feel that way. “I’m really sorry, Spencer,” you said, softer this time. “I didn’t realize I had called you. If I had known...”

He nodded, still avoiding your gaze. “I know. It’s just… hearing that, knowing what was happening, it was…” He trailed off, the words hanging unfinished in the air.

"It was what?" you pressed, sensing that Spencer was leaving something unsaid, something important.

Spencer glanced away, his expression tense, and then, as if the weight of his feelings could no longer be held back, he blurted it out. "I was jealous, okay?"

You blinked in disbelief. “Jealous?” The word left your mouth before you could stop it, confusion swirling in your mind. How could he be jealous after everything that had happened between you two?

“Yeah, Y/N,” he sighed, finally meeting your eyes, the vulnerability in his gaze clear now. “I was jealous.”

You shook your head, still baffled by his confession. “Spencer, you rejected me,” you reminded him, your voice sharper than you intended. The hurt from that moment still stung, and hearing him say he was jealous felt like a twisted irony.

“I know,” he said quickly, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know I did, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle what you said or what I was feeling, and I pushed you away. But hearing you with someone else, knowing you’ve moved on… it hit me harder than I expected.”

You stood there, staring at him, processing his words. Part of you wanted to lash out, to remind him of how much his rejection had hurt you. But another part of you, the part that had always cared for Spencer, softened at the sight of him so open, so raw with his emotions.

“Spencer…” you started, your voice gentler now, “you don’t get to be jealous. Not after everything. You made your choice.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes full of regret. “And it was the wrong choice. I didn’t realize how much I wanted you—until it was too late.”

There was a pause as his words hung in the air between you.

“Well, I’m sorry it took you so long to realize it,” you said, the hurt still lingering in your voice despite the calm exterior you tried to maintain.

Spencer nodded slowly, his expression full of regret. “Me too,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you then, his eyes filled with all the things he hadn’t been able to say before, the weight of his hesitation clear now that the truth was out.

The silence between you stretched on for a moment, heavy with everything that had gone unsaid for so long. You could feel the weight of it pressing down on you, the hurt and confusion swirling around inside your chest. This was what you had wanted once—to hear Spencer admit that he had made a mistake. But now that it was happening, it didn’t feel as satisfying as you thought it would.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Spencer continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings. And now I’m scared I’ve lost you for good.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. There was no quick fix for what had happened between you. His apology was genuine, but the damage had already been done.

“I don’t know what to say, Spencer,” you admitted. “I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t hurt, or that everything can just go back to how it was.”

“I understand,” he said softly, looking down at the floor. “I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were. I just… I wanted you to know how I feel. And that I’m sorry.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I appreciate that. But this doesn’t change everything.”

“I know,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours once more. “But maybe… maybe it’s not too late to figure it out. If you’re willing.”

You hesitated, the rawness of the conversation still fresh. You didn’t know if you could open that door again—not yet. But maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

“We’ll see, Spencer,” you said softly. “We’ll see.”

And with that, the conversation hung in the air, fragile and uncertain, but with the faintest glimmer of hope.

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[d1lfyhorrors]

‘Friendly’ Greeting — Cooper Adams x fem!reader

a/n: i wrote this for funsies! hope you enjoy :D i’m in no way an actual fic writer, i haven’t fully written any fic’s in YEARS.. i’ve started on a few and then gave up lol. so plz go easy on me but i would really appreciate feedback!! i also fear this might be a little self indulgent because girl folded so quick and barely put up a fight. also cooper is still a firefighter in this it just isn’t mentioned.

brief summary: Cooper and his daughter, Riley, are your neighbors that you’ve found yourself cozy with over time. There’s a lot more to him that you’re curious about and soon enough, you get the chance to see a side of him you’d think you’d never expect.

word count: 3,5k

WARNINGS: switch pov, FILTHY SMUT 18+, barely any plot this is just straight up smut, HEAVY DUBCON, afab/fem reader, use of word pussy for reader, dom!cooper, reader calls him ‘sir’ like twice, i feel like cooper adams is just a warning himself he’s a dark man LMAO, rachel is out of the picture cause FUCK RACHEL, unspecified age gap (nothing crazy), he breaks in your house sort of?, descriptions of violence and murder, brief alcohol mention, manipulation, unprotected piv (I DONT ENCOURAGE THIS THO), oral f and m, fingering, choking, hair pulling, face fucking, degradation AND praise, BREEDING KINK (sorry…), use of pet names, creampie. (let me know if i missed anything please!)

——

Cooper isn’t entirely sure what it is about you. Maybe it’s the way you’re always so cheerful and excited to see him along with his daughter Riley. The way you’re so kind and caring towards Riley. He knew how much she liked you and how much she looked up to you. Maybe it’s the way you affect him so deeply with just your presence alone. The way that he’s come to realize deep down inside, he longs for you.

As the time’s passed, his little obsession with you has grown. Dangerously. You consume his thoughts daily. You are now a temptation for him that’s becoming too strong to resist— he just knows that it’s inevitable before he gives in. He hungers for you, all of you. It’s a different kind of hunger compared to his usual— the hunger to kill. In his eyes, you’re an enticing woman he wants all to himself.

You’ve known Cooper since a few weeks after you first moved in next door. His daughter had taken a liking to you quickly that day you introduced yourself to them— from then on, you actually spent quite a good amount of time with them. Hanging out with her in her room, having dinner with her and Cooper, giving her rides whenever he couldn’t. You were like a big sister to her.

He told you about how her mother left them when she was younger. It broke your heart and made you feel for her greatly— moreover it made you feel obligated to be there for her in any way you can.

You find him to be quite a charming man. Certainly handsome, as well as the biggest gentleman. You’ve noticed with time, though, there’s still something a bit off about him— you struggle to put a finger on it. It’s what also causes you to want to get to know him even better. It’s almost like you were drawn to him in a way, but the unknown darkness also makes you hesitant and reluctant.

Cooper’s need to be in control at all times is starting to drive him insane… because of you. That dark, sinister part of him is coming to the forefront. He can’t wait anymore. Now is the time for him to act on it.

He knew it’d be a piece of cake for him to sneak in through your backdoor late at night, considering that’s one of his ‘alter egos’ specialty. He successfully makes it inside your kitchen silently, without alarming you. It only serves to excite him even more.

Today’s been a stressful day at work for you. To be fair, having a corporate office job is always stressful, but your mind was scattered like crazy. Everything has been weighing heavily on you recently and all you wanted to do is get home, take a nice hot shower then go to sleep. But once you got home from work and finished with your shower, you decided to relax on the couch with a bottle of wine.

You’re watching an old black & white horror movie on the TV, sprawled out on your couch, glass of wine in hand. Unbeknownst to you, Cooper stands right behind you in the doorway. He admires you for a bit before speaking up, startling the living hell out of you. “I’ve always liked this movie.”

You whip your head around and jump at the sound of his voice. It almost makes you drop your wine, but thankfully you’re able to save it, quickly setting it down on the coffee table. He smirks as you scramble off of the couch, wrapping your arms around yourself and standing.

It takes a second to realize it’s Cooper— it causes the slightest bit of relief. You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, preparing yourself to respond to his intrusion. “Cooper… how—… what are you doing here?”

His eyes darken as he takes a step closer to you, his heavy boots thudding against the hardwood floor. "Is that any way to greet your friendly neighbor?" he asks, his deep voice laced with a dangerous edge.

Cooper crosses his arms over his broad chest, the sleeves of his flannel shirt straining against his biceps. "I thought I'd stop by and say hello." He makes it sound as if this behavior is normal and familiar, even if it’s far from it. This is the first time he’s ever shown up unannounced.

He can surely hear how loud your heart pounds in your chest, towering over you so close that he can smell the faint scent of your fruity shampoo.

You get a whiff of his cologne and it ignites a warmth that pools in your lower belly. You swallow nervously, cheeks flaring up as you whisper softly. “Well, you could’ve given me a heads up before sneaking up on me.” The attempt to appear more composed fails but you can’t find it in yourself to form a better response.

His gaze rakes over your body, filled with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine. Cooper licks his lips, voice rumbling. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot… I can’t stop thinking about you, actually.”

There’s a sinister glint that flashes in his eyes that you catch. You’ve seen it before, in the depths of his orbs. It terrified and captivated you in equal measure.

Your lips part but he continues, taking a step closer to you. “About how sweet you’d taste. How soft your skin would feel under my fingertips. How good you’d look under me.”, his voice lowers dangerously with those last words.

”Cooper, stop...”, you stammer before he has the chance to say more. He backs you up against the wall now, placing a hand behind your head, caging you in.

His other hand comes up to grip your chin, tilting your face up towards his. The strength of his grip holds you in place and it makes a whimper bubble up in your throat.

"I want you, sweetheart. And I always get what I want.", he coos, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, his eyes blazing with possessiveness.

"So tell me, baby. Are you going to give yourself to me? Or do I have to take what's mine? ‘Cause we both know you want it too. Don’t try to hide it now.”

Cooper has you trembling against the hard surface of the wall, a mixture of fear and lust that’s intoxicating. There’s truth in his words— you know you should be trying to shove him off, running for the hills. You can’t bring yourself to do that when he’s right. There’s a part of you, darker and more curious, that craves this.

The side of you that’s conflicted and wary has words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them, “You’re scaring me…”

You instantly regret it when irritation flashes across his features, other hand sliding down to dig his fingers into your hip painfully.

“Scaring you?”, he repeats in a growl. Your eyes widen when his face hovers just inches from yours. “You have no idea what real fear is, I can promise you that.”

His lips brush against yours in a cruel mockery of a kiss, “I could snap your pretty little neck right now, carve your body up into little pieces and scatter them across the city. No one would ever know it was me.”

The words he uttered has your whole body tensing up. You’re completely helpless, powerless against him. His hand on your chin trails down to brush his fingers over the swell of your breast.

“But I won’t do that, because I wanna keep you. You’re… special. Different, and I want you to be mine in every way possible.”, his voice is softer now, filled with deep emotion.

The shift in his demeanor makes your body melt against him now, and you’re feeling shamefully turned on by him.

Tension aches between your thighs and the last sliver of restraint is gone. You’re so fucked. Any doubts in the world drift away with every passing second.

“Yes, sir. I understand, I’ll do whatever you want.”, you relented sheepishly. Cooper sensed the way you relaxed and gave in— it gave him a sick thrill that made his cock increasingly hard.

He hums in satisfaction then brings a hand up to tangle in your hair, yanking to expose your neck, making you gasp.

“Good girl.”, he purrs in your ear, his breath ghosting over your pulse point. You can feel his erection nudging your thigh and it makes you fucking quiver, a moan forcing it’s way past your lips when he grinds against you.

He dips down to drag his teeth over the hollow of your throat, “You’re learning your place already. Now, get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours for me to fuck.”

Cooper doesn’t give you a chance to even process it, he just tugs your head again and you're instantly dropping in front of him.

Your doe eyes peer up at him as your shaking hands reach out to graze over the bulge through the fabric of his jeans. The breath in your lungs stills the moment you unzip and tug them down his legs along with his boxers. His cock springs free and he gets a sense of pride at the sight of your reaction. Of course he’s massive.

He twitches in anticipation admiring how your lips part. “Take it in your hand first, baby. Stroke it like I know you’ve thought about.”, he commands with an assertiveness that has your panties soaked.

You let your delicate fingers wrap around the base of his cock and he lets out a pleased sigh. “Higher.”, he demands abruptly, his voice gruff. He needs to know just how well he’s broken you, just how much control he wholeheartedly has over you.

Eagerly complying your digits inch up his shaft, squeezing the base of the crown, your thumb gliding over the head. Cooper shudders, the sensation of your softness on him sending a jolt of pleasure through his core. “Now lick it. Taste me, sweetgirl.”, his voice drips with lust.

Your heart races, jaw falling open and he takes the opportunity to thrust himself towards your waiting lips. He groans at the feeling of your hot, wet tongue dragging over his slit, mouth soon after enveloping him. His hand tightens in your hair, shoving his cock in and out, taking your breath away.

“That’s it,” he praises through a pant. “Look at you, so fucking gorgeous like this for me. You were made to be on your knees for me, huh?” A muffled moan of agreement from you vibrates through him, drool gathering at the corners of your lips as he fucks your face with abandon.

“Relax that throat for me, let me in, baby,” he breathes, pulling you forward to force himself deeper.

Cooper lets out a guttural groan, savoring the feeling of your throat, your eyes watering as you choke and gag around him. “Fuck yes, take it like the good little cock slut you are just for me. All mine.”, he grits through his teeth, holding you there for a moment.

Then he pulls back, letting you catch your breath until he’s slamming back in, making your eyes roll back. Cooper sets a brutal pace, his balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.

Tears stream down your cheeks but you can’t deny how much you’re getting off on this. You’ve submitted yourself to him fully and you’re loving every bit of this now. His pleasure spurs you on, tongue swirling over his underside and taking every inch he gives you.

He recognizes the coil tightening in his gut but he refuses to cum so soon. Even though he’d gladly let you swallow it, right now he craves nothing more than to breed your pussy full of him.

The thought forces him to retreat from your mouth, otherwise he would have shot his load right then.

Cooper brings you back up to your feet, fixing himself and motioning for you to lead him to your bedroom. Once you’ve both made it inside he’s already shoving you down on the mattress, creaking under the weight as he straddles you.

You’ve barely spoken at all but you’re still rendered speechless, your brain already turned to mush and he’s not even really started yet. The realization of how much he affects you serves as fuel to the fire. Your body and soul have fallen into the depths of submission.

A wide smirk spreads on his face, hands gripping your wrists to pin them above your head. His voice practically drips with honey, “You’re gonna be such a delightful plaything. Aren’t you, sweetheart? C’mon, need to hear you say it.”

You whimper pathetically, nodding your head frantically and pleading, “I wanna be your plaything, Cooper. I… I wanna be yours— I am yours. P-Please, give me more.”

His lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, tongue darting out to slide along yours and you writhe beneath him. You’re desperate for him at this point, feeding off of how he dominates you. He moves to the skin of your neck, nipping and sucking, leaving marks to stake his claim.

Cooper chuckles at your reaction, “Mmm, such a responsive thing and I’ve barely begun. Need it bad, huh?,” he teasingly mocks. Your cheeks burn and all you can do is moan again, reveling in the sensation of his mouth on your neck.

He lets go of your wrists and removes himself, his hands wandering down to the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips for him, allowing him to take them off with your panties. His eyes immediately fall on your exposed wetness, taking in the sight with a sharp breath.

In this moment he swears it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He licks his lips, “Naughty girl, look at how wet that pussy is for me… I promise I’ll make it feel so good.” With that, he descends between your thighs, grabbing them to spread them wide and throw them over his shoulders.

Cooper presses his tongue flat against your wetness, your body jolting and legs tightening around his head. Your back arches, the muscle flicking and swirling over your clit, driving you wild. It has you gasping for air, tingles of pleasure bursting through your insides.

You crave more and he knows it, but he needs to hear you. Needs to hear your begging. You give it to him in a whine, “Please, sir, I need more. I want it all please please—“ He cuts you off, granting your wish with a finger teasing your entrance.

He suckles your clit with his lips, gathering slick on the tip of his digit, probing your tight hole. You let him in, your hips bucking into his touch and attempting to get impossibly closer. More.

Cooper is lost in the task of pleasing you, worshiping you in ways he imagined. Never did he expect you to be so easy, but he’s getting off on all of this almost as much as killing. This is a close second.

That’ll probably change once he feels you around him. His cock throbs for it but he’s determined to make you cum on his tongue and fingers first. He’s watching you intently, fucking you with one finger before adding another.

The sound of your moans grow with volume and your walls clench around them, one of your hands darting to his hair. Your legs shake and you try to tell him you’re close but it just comes out as gibberish.

“I know, baby, c’mon. You already taste so good, come for me ‘n let me taste every bit of you.”, he mumbles against your flesh. That’s all it takes for you to shatter, convulsing and crying out at the euphoria that washes over you.

His movements never falter, sucking and draining every ounce of pleasure from you. As soon as he senses you coming down, he can’t wait anymore. Cooper gets off the bed long enough to rid himself of his clothes, back on top of you in no time.

He takes a moment to remove your shirt, finally revealing the other objects of his desires. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him against you and he takes the chance to knead one breast with a hand, his mouth attaching to the other.

You gasp at the delicious sensation, arching towards him. Cooper doesn’t waste anymore time, gripping his cock and rubbing the head against your slick folds. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard and deep you’ll feel me for days.”, he promises in a sultry murmur. You shiver.

Without further warning, he sinks inside your pussy in one smooth motion that makes you squeal. The stretch is overwhelming and it’s knocked the breath out of you. You’re so tight, he almost fucking whimpers at the way you choke his cock.

Both of his hands move to grip your hips, giving you a chance to adjust to his size before he eases out and slams back in full force. The motion has you clawing at the sheets, pleasure and pain a heady cocktail as your moans and cries echo through the room like music to his ears.

“Tell me who you belong to, baby. Tell me who owns this pretty body.”, he pants with eagerness. He really is fucking you so deep, pounding you with a relentless rhythm. The friction between your slick bodies create an erotic sound, spurring both of you on.

You struggle to gather the energy for a response but he quickly fixes that by wrapping one of his hands around your throat, applying pressure.

“You, Cooper, I… belong to you. You own me, Cooper, y–you feel so good inside me. I love your cock.”, you blubbered. Your rational mind can’t believe what’s coming out of your mouth but you don’t care anymore.

The words ring in his ears and they make him crack— he’s whimpering, his hips pumping away and your body shaking beneath him. Cooper feels like he’s tasted a glimpse of heaven and he never wants it to go away.

Fuck no, you’re never going anywhere. You said it yourself and Cooper Adams doesn’t take lightly to broken promises. He highly doubts that you’ll ever let yourself find out now with the way you’re clinging to him.

Before you know it he’s flipping you over, positioning you on all fours and entering from behind with a harsh thrust. A yelp flies past your lips as his hands grip your ass cheeks firmly, finding yourself meeting his movements with your hips.

Cooper’s grunts mix with your screams and you’re both teetering on the edge, he’s so close to claiming you in the way he yearns for most. He leans over to wrap his hand around your throat again, using the grip to raise you up so that your back is almost touching his chest.

“I’m gonna stuff this tight pussy full of my cum and you’re gonna take every drop, do you understand?” His cock slides impossibly deeper and you shake violently, tears of overstimulating pleasure and pain streaming down your cheeks.

You stammer a ‘Yes’, then he’s letting his other hand slither down your front to toy with your clit, edging you on closer. Cooper’s grip on your throat tighten and his pace remains unforgiving, chasing the peak dangling just out of reach.

“Oh yes please, Cooper, gonna come so hard. Want you to fill me up, I wanna feel it.”, you beg in a plea. He feels the spasming of your walls around his cock, your release crashing through you while simultaneously rattling through him.

He coos in your ear, “There we go, you feel so good cumming on my cock, baby. You scream so pretty for me… fuck, gonna give it to you now.”, he croaks before he pulses inside of you, his cum spurting out of his tip and filling your pussy. The warmth spreading makes you hum, thoroughly enjoying it.

You completely zone out for a beat there, not realizing he’s still gently moving in and out. Your lungs gasp for air, body quivering from the aftershocks. You don’t even try to speak right now. Only the sounds of his breathing paired with yours and the soft squelch of his cock in your pussy.

Cooper wishes he could just live right here, buried in your depths, taking and taking and taking from you over and over. Pumping load after load into you.

You are different from the others. All of this feels different with you, he’s never had a woman bend to his will so easily. You might just be his one true savior.

That’s until after you’ve cleaned up together and you suddenly question out of nowhere…

“Are you The Butcher?”

tagging: @amethystblackkchaos @rottenangel @hereforthehitsbaby @dirtylittlefairytales @gissellec1 @rplver @ratcatcher2world @one-of-thewalkingdead @habitabel @rosaleelovesdilfs @hibiskooks

[pickingupmymercedes]

Not now, not ever - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

summary: Having her pressed to him brought back how important she's been to keep him grounded.

warnings: Angst, Mercedes 2024, Monza 21'.

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Hello everyone, I felt like angsty was in order. Sorry to bring that accident 😶, but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Defeated and exhausted, that was Lewis scotched in his airplane seat with you tangled in his arms, asleep beside him. The flight back to the UK after a disastrous Japanese Grand Prix held all the weight of the race, the frustration of the poor performance, and the uncertainty of his future with Mercedes weighing heavily on him.

Gently cradling you in his arms, Lewis pressed his face into your hair, breathing in your scent, finding solace in the familiarity and warmth of your presence. His fingers lightly traced the contours of your back, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest. Holding you like this; he felt a fleeting moment of peace amidst the storm of emotions and uncertainties that surrounded him. He whispered softly, barely audible above the hum of the airplane engine, " Thank you for always being there for me, even when I'm at my lowest”

He held you close, drawing comfort from your presence, knowing that whatever happened, you had been through much worse and had always stood strong together. As he looked down to your sleeping figure, the scene brought back a nagging memory on repeat, a night back in 2021, when you had comforted him after a nightmare. Now, as much as back then, you were his anchor, his safe haven amidst the chaos and uncertainty.

You were jolted awake when his entire body lurched, causing him to drop you abruptly onto the mattress. His breathing was rapid, coming out in sharp puffs as he hid his face in his hands, his shoulders tense under your arms as you held him from behind. You waited patiently, holding him until his breathing began to even out. Eventually, he turned to you, fear evident in his eyes. Without a word, you pulled him into your embrace, running your fingers through his braids and soothing the tension in his arms.

You had never seen that happen to him – that nightmarish episode that left a haunting impression. It had been two days from the crash with Verstappen in Monza. You'd traveled with him to NYC under the pretense of having an important. No one knew about the two of you yet. A few stolen moments here and there, and nights tangled in each other were all you had. He returned to his penthouse almost at dawn after the Met Gala, quietly ushering you from the bedroom you were occupying to his own bed. His friends, drunk from the after party, were oblivious to the fact that your supposed meeting was just a cover-up. The real reason you were there was that you couldn't bear to be apart from him after that crash.

Hours seemed to pass without either of you uttering a single word. The mere press of each other’s bodies was enough to ground you both. By the time Daniel knocked on the door to let him know they were headed out and assumed you hadn’t spent the night, it was well past noon. Little did he know, you had been there the whole time and would continue to be there for the rest of the day.

Lewis had witnessed similar episodes with you, most often triggered by situations related to Ayrton. Sometimes it manifested as restlessness, with you tossing and turning in bed. But on other occasions, it was far more severe. You'd wake up cold, tears streaming down your face, a scream caught in your throat, and a deafening ringing in your ears.

When these episodes occurred, Lewis knew exactly what to do. He would hold you tightly, his fingers lightly tracing your skin and scalp, while he repeated reassuring words over and over. And when you finally became aware of your surroundings, he'd listen attentively as you spoke about whatever had triggered the nightmare, comforting you until you fell back asleep in his arms.

As the sun began to set, casting a hauntingly beautiful golden hue through the penthouse windows, you went to find some food, Lewis hot on your feet, taking any opportunity to find himself wrapped in your arms. His arms securely around you, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back as you leaned into him even while you waited for the stove to warm up the takeout from the previous night. The events of the day had left both of you emotionally drained, the scars of the past resurfacing with a vengeance.

The weight of the nightmare and fear of the unknown had taken its toll on both of you. The emotional strain was palpable, the shadows of past traumas lingering in the corners of your minds, waiting to strike when least expected. "You don't have to go through this alone, you know," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine concern. "I'm always here for you, no matter what."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude, love, and pain. "And I'm here for you" his voice softly reassuring you “Always."

Lewis smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He pulled you closer to him, cherishing the moment of fragile peace and understanding between you. The bond you shared was unique, built on trust, understanding, and unconditional love. Despite the challenges and nightmares that sometimes haunted your nights, the love and support you provided each other were unwavering.

As night fell, Lewis led you back to the bedroom, ensuring you were comfortable and safe before joining you in bed. He held you close, his presence a constant source of comfort and reassurance. You drifted off to sleep, protected and loved in the arms that secured you so tightly.

Lewis remained awake; his gaze fixed on your peaceful sleeping face. The haunting memories of the accident with Verstappen in Monza played in his mind, and a shiver ran down his spine as he thought about how close it had come to being his end.

His thoughts were consumed by the accident, the fear of losing you, and the nightmares that had been haunting both of you. The emotional strain was palpable, and tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch you sleep, his mind tormented by the events of the past and the shadows of the traumas you both had endured.

The room was silent except for the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing. Lewis leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, his heart aching with love and fear. He whispered words of love and reassurance, hoping that somehow, you could feel his presence and know that he would always be there for you.

He tightened his grip around you, pulling you closer as if trying to protect you from the world and the nightmares. His mind was filled with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future pressing down on him.

"We almost lost it all," he whispered to himself, his voice choked with emotion. "Gosh, I can't lose you, not now, not ever."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[rubra-wav]

May I Request a part 2 to Dealbreaker!Reader (same characters) but it’s the characters reactions to the reader surprisingly breaking their deal? I loved what you wrote!

Angel, Husk and Alastor with a dealbreaker S/O pt. 2

[ Part 1 ] < > [ More lore on DBs ]

A/N Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it, I loved writing this and the last one. Dealbreaker lore brainrot fr.

With how dealbreaking usually goes, it's not instantly a happy ending, unfortunately. These are all pretty happy endings, though.

Fairly long reads for all of these, but it's worth it, I promise 🙏

!(MY REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN RN. THIS IS JUST LEFT OVER FROM WHEN THEY LAST WERE.)!

Cw: SFW, depictions of violence, mentions of murder, Husk and Angel's is romantic, Alastor's is platonic, gn reader, male reader in mind for Angel's (forgot to add this aaaages back omg)

**Alastor's is written under the assumption that the Lilith owning his soul theory is real + is making a great big assumptions about Lilith + the nature of her deal that will likely be disproven.

She's a great big mystery, I'm just heavily leaning into pure theory in that one.

Angel

- When you break his contract, Angel is overwhelmed with a potent mixture of relief and gratitude.

- The path this far had been fairly easy as far as the process of actually breaking the contract goes.

- The chains on him were poorly crafted and the format was extremely simple with a lot of loopholes to bust the contract wide open.

- It was honestly much harder to fully knock Angel out of the all-encompassing fear-rooted belief that he was doing something incredibly wrong after years of Val's manipulation and control over every part of him.

- It didn't take long to make the counter-contract, just a few minutes referencing the draft as you quickly wrote everything down upon the page pressed against the filthy bench you were sitting at. Angel hovered over you anxiously wringing his hands as he watched you work.

- The lock on his prison cell was quickly broken, along with the actual collar around his neck.

- You cheered as you threw your arms around the disbelieving man next to you. Angel cracked a smile, giddy as he realised that you had done it.

- This peace was short-lived, however.

- You now had to deal with the consequences of actually breaking Angel's deal. Valentino does not take kindly to people taking his toys away from him, especially not one of his top money-makers and favourite souls.

- You had, of course, crafted the counter-contract that was now clutched in your palm in some random location far away from the hotel so Val wouldn't be knocking at the front door knowing it was done then and there.

- However, you two still needed to run.

- Hand in hand, you run away from the approaching sound of distant but loudly approaching cars with the sound of gunshots echoing, legs and lungs burning with exertion.

- As a contrast to your very evident worry, Angel is laughing joyously and more boisterously then he thinks he ever has as the feeling of the heavy sensation of the collar that has been weighing on him is lifts alongside the inability to speak his real name without choking on it.

- The feeling of his newfound freedom and adrenaline mixes in his body, making his blood sing out in his veins like a symphony. An indescribably rich sensation of being alive that he thought he'd never be able to feel again while sober.

- "So long, you overly tall rat bastard! I've found something that's better then anything you could ever fucking give me!" Angel yells out into the warm air of the night as he flips off the general direction of the sound of the gunshots, laughing all the way as you get to the getaway car.

- You're panting as you crank the car into gear, speeding away and putting the glowing counter-contract on the back seat.

- As the distant sounds of gunshots fades into the distance behind you, you turn to the passenger side of the car to make absolutely sure Angel is really okay as he calms down from the high of the chase.

- Your boyfriend is absolutely beaming next to you, glowing with a sense of natural light you'd never before seen in your time being together. It's a beautiful contrast to the artificial sense of life you are so used to seeing broadcast within the studio and his films.

- He looks so different, and not only due to the disguise he had decided upon to lay low until shit calmed down a bit.

- As you make it to your destination - a small house youd been allowed to stay at courtesy of Charlie - you put the car into park and sit there for a for a few seconds.

- "Holy shit. I did it. I actually freed you. And we're not dead." You said, stunned.

- Angel snickered, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning over to you to kiss you on the cheek. "Never doubted you for a second, baby."

- You laugh, relieved, turning to him and gently pull his face close to yours, kissing him deeply. You chuckle at the feeling of the giant smile on Angel's face.

- As you move to settle in to live in the small house for a couple of weeks, you regret turning on the television.

- Angel's face flashes across the screen with text quickly scrolling past a smiling but seemingly close to tweaking Vox on the screen, the man looking like he's about to absolutely lose his shit if one more mild inconvenience happens. The Video Star's eye twitches sightly as if hearing something irritating as he speaks.

- "There is a hefty reward for anyone who can find Angel Dust and the dealbreaker who has interfered with his contract. Any useful information will be welcome. To give us tips, go to the website listed below or call-" You switch the TV off, unplugging it as well just in case.

- If Vox got well and truly involved in this situation to attempt to placate Valentino as soon as possible, this would be even more difficult of a situation. You hadn't much considered the rest of the vees getting involved, assuming they would stsy in their own lanes while Valentino stopped being pissy.

- You shake your head, and move to go to the room where Angel is unpacking. The outside world could wait until later. All that shit could wait until later.

- Angel smiles at you as you walk into the room, such a lightness in it that makes your heart burn.

- You hug him tightly and then fall down on your side into the bed, both of you laughing joyously and filling the empty house with life.

- The road ahead would not be easy, but you were finally on the road to starting your life with him.

- Your life with him as Anothony, not Angel Dust.

Husk

- The road to forming a counter-contract was hard as all hell.

- Alastor's deals are absolutely air tight, crafted with the uptmost skill and attention to detail, so you finding a vague clause to dig your claws into to get it rolling after weeks of arduously reviewing it again and again was a goddamn miracle.

- When he saw that you had made progress, he's shocked as can be. Has a 'well I'll be' moment as you point it out to him after another sleepless night as he wanders up to you.

- Feels bad for fully doubting you after that. He's still pessimistic about your chances of actually succeeding in the counter-contract, but the flame of hope inside of him sparks to embers as you manage to do what nobody has managed to even remotely succeed to do in centuries.

- When you make further progress, he becomes deeply afraid for your safety. If Alastor ever found out you'd been able to get this far, you'd be toast.

- Never in a million years would Alastor allow someone who's managed to undermine his skills to this degree to live. When you say that you've got it covered when he brings it up, he's incredibly skeptical and is even more concerned when you say you can't tell him 'just in case'.

- Is in utter disbelief when you insist you just stay in the hotel as you actually write the counter-contract to break the deal while Alastor is out doing some shenanigans.

- When you say that you don't, in fact, have a death wish, he's extremely stressed and sweating bullets as you begin to write what you'd been drafting for weeks.

- The lights flash and then go out as you're about halfway through writing the contract. Unnatural green light fills the room and Alastor casts a great big shadow on the wall as he materialises out of nowhere.

- Husk feels dread sink into every part of himself.

- The ground shakes as Alastor physically shows up, much larger then usual and snarling. "What do you think you're doing."

- His voice is dripping with malice and static which hurts your ears greatly, but the movement of your pen on the page doesn't stop even though you can feel your heart thudding in terror and your vision is becoming blurry.

- Husk feels nauseous as Alastor looks down at you, growing all the more aggressive the more he feels his hold on Husk slipping.

- Husk fights a panicked yell as Alastor's neck snaps to the side loudly, now looking directly at him with an absolutely vile grin on his face. He cannot make it in time as Alastor's hand moves to crush you, and he fears the absolute worst as you are no longer in his sights.

- His deep despair is interrupted however, as from underneath Alastor's palm great big rose briers grow from underneath and pry it backwards, revealing you still writing - albeit looking extremely stressed - and the figure of Rosie who looks rather angry at Al.

- Alastor's eyes widen in shock and disbelief that one of his oldest friends are currently blocking him from destroying the one trying to take his property.

- Husk hardly hears the back and forth and stalling that goes on between the two overlords as he's running to you to try and pull you the hell out of here.

- He stops in place as he feels it, and hears Alastor let out a terrifying frustrated growling noise. The green collar and chain around his throat appears, and then it breaks with a loud snapping sound. You've succeeded.

- You actually fucking did it.

- The next few moment are a blur as Husk is rendered motionless and speechless, eyes wide and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as if he's about to wake up from this moment.

- He slowly walks towards you, looking to the side blankly as Alastor shrinks back to his normal size and is escorted out of the hotel with a look of pure bewilderment on his face by a now smiling and laughing Rosie. The leader of the cannibals winks at you and gives you a thumbs up as she leaves.

- You turn to Husk and grin at him wearily, still sweating nervously with clear relief on your face. You literally could have just died.

- Husk sinks to his knees beside you from where you sit on the ground, having fallen from your chair as Alastor tried to crush you.

- Husk grips your face in his shaking hands as he looks up at you. He can now see that one of your eyes is black with a deal you've made yourself but for now he doesn't address it.

- "Thank you." His voice is hoarse, low. Tears stream down his face for the first time in a long long time.

- Your face crumples as you allow your brave face to fall to bits. Your heart is still racing and you are still getting over the fear you felt.

- Husk pulls your crying face to his, leaning his forehead against yours as he wraps his arms tightly around you. "Thank you so much." Husk says, closing his eyes and causing more tears to roll down his cheeks.

- "If you ever do something that fucking stupid again, I'll not be humouring you." He added after the wonderful moment stretched out for a couple of seconds.

- You laugh softly, and nuzzle into his cheek as you kiss it. "You're welcome, Husker my love."

- Husk hums in fake annoyance, but he cannot even hide how much lighter he feels.

- The bonds which had kept him trapped for decades had been broken down all at once, leaving him free.

- He had no idea what kind of deal you made with Rosie, but he sure hoped it kept Alastor the fuck away from you and him for the rest of your lives.

- And, for your sake, he desperately hopes it is not the type of deal you will regret making later.

Alastor

- The path to dealbreaking Alastor's is bar fucking none with difficulty, mostly because he doesn't want your help.

- Hurts his his ego so much to see that even though his consistent efforts to tell you to get lost have failed. He's opted to scaring you off multiple times and yet you're still relentless.

- After yet another time of him growing into that massive form and snarling down at you, you snap.

- "Maybe I'm 'overestimating my abilities', but what if I'm not? What if a fresh pair of eyes are what you need rather than you just pissing off to your radio tower and staring at everything until you have a mental breakdown over it!" You yell at him weakly as he turns his back to leave. Blood is dripping from the corner of your mouth, and you're only just regaining your vision from the former static, which blacked it out.

- Alastor stops in his tracks, startled that you know about that too.

- "Maybe I don't have as much experience as you, but I have a different mind and way of looking at things! What if that's exactly why you can't break it? What if whoever it is knows how you think so they've designed this thing so you can't do this alone?"

- You can't see Alastor's face, but he's standing there still not saying anything. One of his ears is pointed backwards in your direction. He's actually listening.

- You gulp, and stand up shakily. "What if they knew that you would never seek assistance, so they've done things which won't be visible to you and only you. If you just give me a chance." You're no longer shouting, rather speaking in a tone you're trying to keep even despite how afraid you are.

- Alastor grits his teeth, ears twitching as he considers it. He's pissed off because you're actually making a good point.

- It goes against every instinct in his body, but suddenly, he's right in front of you, holding out his hand to you as he glares menacingly at you. "A week, and if you find nothing, you will never fucking approach this with me again, or share what you have seen and heard about my deal with anybody."

- You gulp audibly. It's a ridiculously slim deadline for this kind of business, but it's more than nothing. As you accept the deal, he utters a single word you're shocked to hear.

- "Lilith."

- Without any further words, he disappears, leaving a glowing copy of the contract at your feet.

- The week of reviewing the contract was utter fucking hell.

- it's not just that the contract was super air tight, it's just that it was so ridiculously complicated and hard to understand that you could hardly fucking comprehend what you were reading most of the time. It was utterly maddening.

- Your breakthrough, however, came not through solely just reading the words, but from actually talking to Lucifer himself about Lilith when he came to visit the hotel while Alastor left.

- As per the deal, you didn't share anything about the contract, but you did ask about her in private with him and he was actually surprisingly happy to discuss her.

- So that's, how on the last day of the deadline, you cracked the contract wide open with a counter-contract draft you had written in a few hours.

- Alastor almost screams out in pure unadulterated fury when he sees what you've written and hears the explanation behind it.

- Lilith wasn't some skilled dealmaker hellbent on controlling demons. She was a broken down dreamer who had no idea what she was actually doing in the contract, but being Lilith, her words held so much weight that they'd chained him despite that.

- It actually takes every bone in your body to not burst out laughing with how utterly humiliated he looks.

- His ears are pressed forward on his head, and he's making an odd high-pitched audio feedback kind of sound as his face is hidden in his hands.

- He'd been stressing over this thing for years as a skilled dealmaker looking at it, and yet that was exactly why he couldn't do it.

- Couldn't do what you did in a fucking week.

- "So, do you want me to undo this thing now or-?"

- You startle as suddenly he's in front of you, both hands on either one of your shoulders.

- you try so hard to not snicker as you see his expression finally, but fail. He's pressing his still ever-smiling mouth into a crooked line, eyes squeezed shut and brow furrowed. Dark flush covers his cheeks and neck.

- "Yes. Please." He says those words as if they are poison in his mouth. "I'm.. Sorry. That I underestimated you." Alastor opens his eyes to look at you as he begins to regain his composure a bit more, the hard part of this interaction being over with.

- Fortunately, and also infuriatingly, Alastor had not had his soul contract used once. Lilith simply had him in her back pocket and didn't lift a finger whenever she felt him try to break it again and again. It's like she didn't even give a fuck that she literally owned him.

- This fact burnt hot embarrassment and frustration into him as it destroyed his ego, but now it was a relief as she would most likely not try and come after him. Or you for that matter.

- His claws grip painfully into your shoulders as you fail to stop snickering loudly in disbelief that he actually apologised. Admitted losing essentially.

- "S-sorry! I just can't believe I'm seeing you like this." You apologised.

- Alastor gritted his teeth. "Don't get used to it." He growls before his mask slips right back on like it never happened. "I'm simply admitting my mistake in assuming you could not do this, darling! It turns out you truly can't teach an old dog new tricks. Or deer, in this case." He clears his throat, straightening up.

- You smile up at him, heavy bags under your eyes from where you've barely slept for the past week pouring over this.

- "If it makes you feel any better, it makes sense why you couldn't solve this thing. It's utter bullshit nonsense." You shake your head at the contract.

- The deal was undone embarrassingly quickly after that using the draft you had written. No pushback at all on it.

- Alastor feels his collar slacken and break to bits as you write the counter-contract and sighs with extreme relief as he watches the other contract disintegrate, feeling the power which had been stolen coming back as it turns to dust. It doesn't cure the utter humiliation that still sits heavy upon his shoulders however.

- After everything, he would threaten to kill you if you tell anyone about what went on or how he had fallen apart. Though, it would be a lie to say you two don't grow significantly closer.

- Alastor is still hesitant to fully let his guard down around you, however the massive wake that existed between you two even as fairly good friends has now significantly closed.

- He's still a lying, scheming asshole, but he'll be much more inclined to not be so much with you considering you've kept multiple giant blows to his ego fully secret.

This was a lot longer than what I usually write for requests holy moly, but I absolutely loved writing these. I hope I fulfilled your vision anon 🙏

You get through Angel's and Husk's, which are really emotional and sweet, then you get to Alastor's 💀

Masterlist

[nahoney22]

Hi ! It's me requesting again (I hope you don't mind 😅)

Can I request Crosshair x fem!reader who's really inexperienced (she has never been in any relationship before Crosshair) and when she's ready for her time, she's a little nervous because since she has no experience she feels like she'll ruin it for him but he keeps reassuring her that she's doing really well (NSFW if you don't mind)

Between Us***

Crosshair X F!Reader

word count: 2.7k

When the time comes to take the next step with your boyfriend, the weight of being a virgin weighs heavily on your shoulders but luckily for you, Crosshair is there to guide you through it all.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Smut, explicit sexual content and language. Virgin and inexperienced female reader. First time, P in V sex, cunnilingus, kissing, neck kissing, comfort, dirty talk, praises, soft Crosshair, soft smut, fluff, aftercare, established relationship.

authors note: sorry for the wait! Please enjoy @coraex 🩵

NSFW under the cut!

His lips descended onto yours in a feverish passion, his hand held onto your waist as the back of your legs hit the bed and sent you tumbling back. As he leaned over you, a smirk graced his lips at the sound of your surprised gasp.

With a fluid motion, he slid his arm under your back, effortlessly repositioning you on the bed, your head finding comfort on the feather-pillow. "I can't believe we're finally alone," he murmured huskily, his lips moving to explore your neck while you tried to hide any hint of nervousness.

Despite the heat of the moment, you couldn't shake the nagging fear of not being able to meet his expectations. It wasn't about who he was - you trusted him completely. But doubts crept in about whether you could give him what he desired.

Your breath hitched and your body tensed, prompting Crosshair to pause and search your eyes with concern. "Do you not like that?" he asked, his smirk fading as he sensed your unease.

You blinked up at him, struggling to find your voice. Of course you liked it; how could you not? But the overwhelming anxiety threatened to overwhelm you. Crosshair's expression softened as he crawled off you, settling by your side as you sat up, running a hand through your hair.

"Sorry, I'm sorry... I am enjoying it," you stammered, feeling the weight of your own insecurities. Crosshair listened patiently, but when he saw your distress mounting, he pulled you close, offering comfort and support.

"What's wrong? I thought this is what you wanted?” he said, gesturing to the luxurious surroundings that had been carefully prepared for the occasion. What he had envisioned as a magical night together was clouded by your fear of disappointing him.

You turn to him, a hint of frustration in your voice. "No, Cross, I do want this. I want it more than anything. It's just..." Your nerves threaten to overwhelm you, but as he gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and clasps your slightly trembling hand in his, you find the courage to be honest. "I've never done anything like this before."

"Sex?" he asks directly.

"Yes, or even foreplay... I'm sorry I didn't tell you," you admit with a sigh.

He shakes his head, brushing off your apology. "You didn't have to tell me. It's none of my business." Bringing your hand to his lips, he kisses across your knuckles tenderly. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

Your heart sinks a little. "But I do want to do something," you assert, meeting his gaze with determination. "I just don't know how to."

Crosshair pauses, still holding your hand to his lips as he considers. "You don't need to do anything if you don't want to," he murmurs in a low rumble, repeating his previous comment. "I could take the lead. I'll show you what your body is capable of."

Excitement wells up within you, grateful that he isn't deterred by your lack of experience. "I'd like that."

"Good," he affirms, pressing a final kiss to your knuckles before rising from the bed. Your eyes follow him as he moves to the foot of the bed, directly in front of you. "I want you to relax. Lay back."

You watch as he slowly removes his belt from his civvies, your anticipation growing at the thought of Crosshair undressing for you. The belt hits the floor with a clang before he begins unbuttoning his black dress shirt.

Your skin tingles with heat, your body reacting instinctively to the sight of him. "You like watching me get undressed, princess?" he teases, noticing your flushed expression.

"I do," you admit, biting your lip as he continues to reveal his lean physique. One button at a time, his shirt slips from his shoulders and falls to the floor.

He then kneels on the bed, moving towards you with gentle intent. With your silent permission, his hands slide to the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling them down as you lift your hips to assist him. You can't help but smile as he neatly folds your clothes and sets them aside.

His hands then rest on your bare knees, his touch both delicate and confident as he trails his fingers over your skin before spreading your thighs.

The cool air kisses your skin, even through the thin barrier of your silk panties, eliciting a shiver of anticipation. You've never felt this vulnerable before, but the thought exhilarates you, hoping it does the same for the man before you.

"Oh, baby girl," he murmurs, lowering himself between your legs, his head resting against your thighs. "You have such a pretty pussy."

Your breath catches in delight at his words, your cheeks burning with excitement. "Do you really like it?"

He chuckles, his eyes smoldering with desire as he plants kisses on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "How can I not? It belongs to you," he purrs, his warm breath a stark contrast to the previous cold air.

Your lazy grin transforms into one of anticipation as his hands explore your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake, his fingers teasingly brushing over the fabric of your panties.

When his touch finally makes contact, you exhale sharply, pleasure coursing through you at the sensation. "Sensitive, are we? Don't worry," he reassures, his thumb gently caressing the silk over where your clit would be, "I'll be gentle."

"Crosshair..." you whimper, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

"Do you like that?" he asks softly, his fingers detecting the growing dampness through the fabric. "I can feel that your panties are getting wet for me... shall we take them off?"

You lick your lips, nodding eagerly, your anticipation palpable. His movements are careful as he slides your panties down your leg, the fabric hooking around your foot before landing on the floor. Your gaze remains fixed on Crosshair, watching with awe as he swallows hard at the sight of your bare sex before him. "Perfect," he murmurs, and you observe in fascination as he licks his fingers, coating them with saliva before delicately stroking up and down between your folds.

The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your entire body trembled with pleasure, and Crosshair slowed his movements, gazing up at you from between your legs as he lay on his stomach. "Are you okay?" he inquired softly.

"Yeah," you breathed, watching his fingers as they continued their mesmerising dance, "just getting used to this feeling."

"And do you like this feeling when I play with your pussy?" he queried, his eyes locked on yours.

You nodded in response, unable to form words as waves of pleasure washed over you.

He maintained his movements, skillfully teasing your sensitive clit, eliciting occasional arches of your back and a chuckle from Crosshair. But now, it was time for the next step. "I'd love to eat you out," he began, licking his lips in anticipation, "would you like to try that?"

You had certainly thought about it before, even entertained the idea of having Crosshair between your legs or even sitting on his face, but now that the opportunity was here, you couldn't resist. "Yes," you replied eagerly.

"Come on, darling," he leaned in closer, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, "tell me. Use your words."

You swallowed nervously, summoning the courage to attempt your first foray into dirty talk. "Please lick my pussy, Crosshair. It's all yours."

Something sparked in his eyes at your words. Gripping your thighs firmly to hold them apart, he wasted no time, his tongue tracing a long, slow swipe up your dripping slit.

Crosshair's expert ministrations sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. His tongue danced skillfully over your swollen folds, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes, each movement sending you higher and higher towards ecstasy.

As he delved deeper, exploring every inch of your trembling flesh with a hunger that matched your own, you surrendered yourself completely to the overwhelming pleasure, lost in the blissful haze of his touch. "Oh, Crosshair," you moaned, your voice laced with desire, "that feels so good."

He hummed in response, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. "You taste amazing," he murmured, his words sending a rush of heat straight to your core. With each flick of his tongue, each gentle suckle on your clit, he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

You gripped the sheets tightly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo. Your tire started to curl and there was a heat in your core that you only imagined to be hitting a climax, your first climax. "I'm... I'm gonna come," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation.

Crosshair didn't falter, his movements only growing more intense as he expertly brought you to the brink. And then, with one final, well-placed flick of his tongue, he sent you hurtling over the edge, your entire body convulsing with ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

He groans into your cunt, lapping up the last remnants of your high before pulling back, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he wipes his mouth. "Was that good for you, princess?" he asks, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

You can only nod, still lost in the haze of pleasure, unable to form coherent words.

Crosshair releases your legs and kneels in front of you, his cock straining against his pants as he gazes down at you. "Do you want to carry on?"

Your eyes flutter open, taking in the sight of the man before you, treating you with a tenderness you hadn't seen before. But then your gaze trails down his body, lingering on the bulge in his pants, and a wave of desire washes over you. "Definitely."

Your eagerness brings a wicked grin to his lips, and you watch in a daze as he undoes the button of his pants, freeing his throbbing cock. Your eyes widen at the sight, your mouth watering in anticipation. "Cross... you're so big."

He chuckles darkly, his hand wrapping around his shaft as he pumps it between your legs. "And it's all for you, kitten."

"I'm nervous," you admit in a whisper, the size of him feeling almost intimidating.

"I understand," he murmurs, leaning over you and enveloping you between his body and the bed. "I'll be gentle if you still want to go on."

You lean up, capturing his lips in a kiss, moaning softly as you taste yourself on his tongue. "I don't want this to stop," you whisper against his lips, your hands moving to your top and pulling it over your head, revealing your naked body to him. "I just don't want you to be..."

"Don't say unsatisfied," he interrupts, his eyes roaming over your exposed form, a hunger burning in his gaze. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

"Are you ready for this?" he whispers against your lips, and as you give a subtle nod, a low moan escaping your lips, Crosshair positions himself between your legs. His hands trace patterns on your skin as he eases into you slowly, inch by inch. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel the delicious stretch and fullness. At first, there's a burn, uncomfortable yet thrilling, but as he rests within you, praising you and allowing you to adjust, the burn transforms into pleasure.

"Stars, you feel amazing," you gasp, your body instinctively arching towards him, hungry for more.

He places one hand on the pillow beside your head, the other gripping your hip firmly, holding you in place as he begins to move. His thrusts are slow, deliberate, and caring. Each movement sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, your pussy clenching around him in ecstasy.

Crosshair, who you always thought of as rough and dirty, reveals a gentle side with you. His eyes never leave your face, searching for any signs of discomfort as he expertly rolls his hips. As you lay back, embracing his cock, your gaze shifts upwards, a small smirk playing on your lips as a mirror replaces the typical ceiling, allowing you to hungrily admire his toned back and arse as he rocks into you.

Your nails dig into his back, your moans growing louder with each thrust as he drives you towards the brink of ecstasy. You whimper his name, your body writhing beneath his as he claims you completely.

"You're doing so, so well. You can moan louder, it's just me and you," Crosshair praises, his words igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with each passing moment. "You feel so fucking good, princess," he growls, his voice low and gravelly with desire. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

Your pussy throbs with pleasure, every ridge and vein of his cock sending you closer to madness. "F-Faster, please," you groan as he presses his forehead to yours.

"Of course," he complies, holding you close. His hands roam over your body, caressing your breasts as he drives into you with increasing urgency. You sob into the crook of his neck, the pleasure overwhelming yet somehow not enough as you feel his cock swelling inside you, signaling his impending release.

"Do you like this, huh? Do you like my cock filling you up?" he demands softly, his thrusts becoming more intense.

"Yes! Oh fuck yes, Cross," you cry, teeth sinking into his neck, earning a gasp from him as he pounds into you.

"Good girl," he moans, his hips stuttering as he nears his climax. "I love you so much. You've done so well." He sits up, one hand remaining on your hip while the other moves between your legs, frantically rubbing at your clit as he watches him seethe in and out of you with each careful thrust.

"Fuck! You're going to make me cum again," you gasp, feeling yourself on the edge.

"That's the idea, princess," he grins lazily, his eyes moving up your body and fixating on your bouncing breasts. "I'm... I'm going to cum soon too. All over your lovely tits."

As Crosshair pumps into you with a few more fervent thrusts, his movements become more urgent, more desperate, driving you both towards the edge of ecstasy. The intensity of his circling motions on your clit sends shivers down your spine, igniting every nerve ending in your body. With each stroke of his cock, your pussy clenches around him, urging him on, signaling your impending release.

His loving words wash over you like a warm embrace, filling you with a sense of adoration and belonging. The stars begin to blur your vision as pleasure clouds your senses, and your heavy breathing mixes with soft whimpering of his name fills the air.

As Crosshair holds back his own climax, he sighs in anticipation as he feels you reach your peak. With a final, powerful thrust, you release all over his cock, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm. He swiftly pulls out, a primal need driving him as he leans over you, his hand frantically pumping on his cock.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck yes! That's it…" he gasps, his voice thick with desire, as a stream of hot, white, silky cum paints your breasts, coating you in his delicious seed.

You watch him in awe, your body still quivering from the aftershocks of pleasure, until he collapses beside you. For a moment, you feel emotional. This trivial moment in your life finally feels complete with someone you love and who loves you.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Crosshair must’ve noticed your expression, his concern evident in his voice as he notices the slight glisten in your eyes.

You shake your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Not at all. That was very special to me. Thank you," you whisper, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude.

"It was special to me too. I've... I've never felt like this with anyone before," he confesses, his voice filled with sincerity as he takes your hand and kisses your fingers softly, sealing the moment with tenderness and affection.

You both lay with each other for a while, your bodies beginning to ache with the aftermath, but you don't refuse Crosshair's continued gentleness as he scoops you up into his arms and draws you a bath. After cleaning up and slipping into your nightwear, the two of you curl back up into bed.

"Crosshair?" you whisper into his chest after a few minutes.

"Yeah?" he asks, stroking his fingers through your hair.

"Can we do this again tomorrow?"

Masterlist

More Crosshair Works

My Ko-Fi if you feel like buying me a cup of tea ☕️ 😊

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[stararch4ngelqueen]

hear me out…jason proposing 😵‍💫 i’m such a sucker for a lowkey proposal like you’re just having a normal convo and he’s like “marry me” and you’re like wtf but you laugh it off bc like ofc he’s joking so when you’re like “you’re funny” he’s just dead serious, “marry me.”

I don’t really know where I was going with this, but if you get the reference I respect you.

—

Time written - 10:10 a.m

—

You weren’t a criminal when you met Robin, years before his tragic prime. It wasn’t every day when your paths crossed with a cape wearing teen around your age, even more so on his search of a bag of valuables you were ready to deny when it ‘accidentally’ came into your hands.

“Care to tell me how that happened?” The Boy Wonder at the time smirked, amused at your gawking face.

“Cat got her own tongue? What, you need some milk?”

You rolled your eyes. I you were a thief, you’d have sense to throw the satchel at his head. The cheesy jokes must’ve been a Robin thing. “I’m more of an Ice cream girl, actually. But, I didn’t steal this!”

To add up on this horribly unprecedented situation, Robin quirked a brow behind that domino mask of his, gesturing his head towards the bag of valuables in question.

“Trade you a milkshake for that.”

It was your turn to be incredibly confused, your mouth left open for quite some time. Was he serious right now?

“I choose the flavor.” You state after a further moment of thought.

“Seems fair.”

“And the place it’s bought from.”

“That’s askin’ a bit much,” Robin began to huff, hinting his growing smirk as your frown deepens.

“All I’m asking for is a five dollar shake in exchange for this bag full of hundreds of dollars, bird boy.”

“A five dollar shake in exchange for about seven hundred bucks inside that bag,” Robin points out, his smile growing bigger and bigger. “Throw in your phone number, an’ we got a deal, kitty cat.”

It turned into unconventional milkshake roof dates, sitting over the skylines, staring down at the chaotic world below as the two of you shared an unintentional paradise.

He’d tease your fear of heights, constantly calling you a Catwoman rip off, but he always made sure to never let you fall. Your relationship was sweet, too sweet, and gone way too fast.

Your rooftop dates were a tradition you kept alive when he died, only to resurface when a knock at your window interrupted you of sleep, opening your balcony to find a single milkshake perfectly balanced, with a bright black arrow drawn on the cup to meet Red Hood on the roof.

Jason Todd wasn’t the same as you remembered him to be, but he was still Jason, underneath all that broodiness that shielded him from whatever unseen traumas he hadn’t shared with you quite yet.

All these months since he ‘returned’, he always made sure to keep up your ice cream date schedules. Nine o’clock sharp on the roof of your apartment building. Sometimes, ontop of Wayne Industries on special occasions. He’d always be the one to carry you, especially now.

What did stick with him was his horrible Robin humor, which was what you believed he was using when he popped such an unexpected question.

“What?” Came your first response, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. A strange warm throb formed in your heart, thudding rapidly in your chest.

“What did you say?”

“Marry me.” He repeats again, never putting off that firm expression plastered on his face.

What an untimely thing to say in the calm before an unknown storm. Both of you were out of breath after chatting for an hour, sipping on thick melted shakes and laughing over the previous Boy Wonder.

“Jason, this isn’t funny.” You peer down at your cup, nearly finished with its contents. He always got your favorite.

“You’re right,” He agrees, his tone a little too calm to be considered any sort of joke.

All possibility of opportunity to pop a laugh and admit he was joking weighed heavily in the air, carried around by the nightly breeze. He never says he’s joking, never shrugs off such an alarming, mind blowing question.

“What if you’re kidding?” Your denial still leaks through, making his lips twitch upwards. It has to be a joke, he wouldn’t say it like this.

“What if I’m not?” He casually responds, nearly wearing down your patience.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

“I’m not.”

“Jason.” Saying his name so softly, littered with fear and hesitancy makes his second life heart melt. Being so sweet on his girl, even after his death, taught him a great lesson about time.

Regardless if he didn’t arrive at nine o’ clock sharp, or if you arrived two minutes late, time could easily be taken away, ruining everything.

He remains quiet, watching your flustered expression vary from your hands along your cup before setting it down beside you. Taking this chance, he gently grasps hold of your hand before it had a chance to retreat into the safety of your jacket pocket.

“I meant what I said,” Jason speaks again in a more calm, soothing tone of voice. “I know this ain’t traditional. I don’t exactly do traditional, but … I wanna marry you.”

His hand squeezes yours, making you hesitant to speak further. He was serious, the realization was heavily daunting in such a unique way. A unique, exciting way.

“Why?” You look at him again, swallowing slowly as he leans closer, nearly making you anticipate a kiss.

Instead, his forehead settles against yours, taking in the rich, crystalline serenity of your unique, radiant beauty.

“Because,” he mutters, “You waited for me.”

Dedication, patience, hope; That was worth more to him than gold, worth much more than the bag of valuables he knew you didn’t steal.

“I have a ring for ya,” Jason continues on whilst his thumb strokes along the back of your hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll getcha whatever you want. We’ll have as big of a wedding as you want, then we’re gonna go somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” You whisper.

“Yeah. Just you and me; no crime fighting, no danger. Nothing. Just us.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah babygirl,” Jason peers into your eyes, wanting to coo at your noticeable tears. “Wherever you want. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

You just needed to say yes.

You couldn’t help but giggle with an overwhelming mix of emotions, your trembling hand reaching up to settle behind his hooded head.

“Why do I feel like,” you nearly laugh in between your words. “Why do I get this feeling you put the ring in my cup?”

“An’ ruin a perfectly good five dollar shake?” Jason expresses in surprise, chuckling along with your giddy laughter. “C’mon babe. I’m not that inconspicuous.”

“Then where is it?”

Jason tilts his head, raising a brow. “Why’re you asking, kitty cat? Plan on stealing it?”

“No,” you muse, your nose nearly bumping against his.

“You expecting me to slip it on right about now?” His hand finds purchase along your hip, cradling your supple body. “Dosent work unless you—“

You cut him off via a kiss, one he graciously accepts.

You tasted like cherry sublime mixed with the highlife, a good life where you always existed in it. If he were to die again, he needed to know that he went with one successful accomplishment. Marrying his Robinhood sweetheart.

“Yes,” you whisper, those tears you worked so hard to hold back cascading down your cheeks. “I’ll marry you, Jason.”

In knowing him since he was Robin, till you met him as the muscular, ever brooding Red Hood, you’ve never seen the man smile so big. His eyes shining brighter than the moon that was ever so beautiful tonight.

Grasping hold of your hips, he pulls you into his arms, carelessly tilting over his half finished milkshake cup in the process. His lips find you once more after sitting you in his lap, muscled forearms snuggly hugging around your waist, holding you as physically close to him as possible.

“The ring I gotcha-“ he muffles against your pretty lips in between kisses. “- is at my place. Waiting for you—on my bed.”

Your laugh was all you could respond with. From the very start, it’s as if he planned this all out. All it took was a bag of misplaced valuables and the promise of a five dollar shake.

[lavendermin]

Not a request, but I just wanted to ramble about this thought I've been having for a while (,,꒪꒫꒪,,)

Jing Yuan who is so in-tune with how his s/o acts that if they get kidnapped and someone impersonates them (even if appearances are perfect like Sparkle's ability), he's just like "ahaha you're not them, okay where are they" by the first few lines the impersonator says

I think this is such a neat concept to play around with and explore not only the relationship but giving the reader depth with exploring mannerisms and habits they may have with Jing Yuan.

He’s a perceptive man, of course he would tell when something is off with his beloved.

Take, for example, possession by a heliobus. You’re left with an out of body experience like you’re listening from within a dream as a heliobus possesses your body to try to get to leech off your energy and emotions. Of course your emotions are strongest with Jing Yuan. How could they not be?

The heliobus has unfortunately picked up on this.

cw | possession

There’s a knock at the door and Jing Yuan is faced with your bashful smile in the middle of the night. Right off the bat he can sense something is off.

“Evening, my love,” you greet with a shy wave. “I got, um, locked out of my place.”

“Again?” he inquires with a raised brow. “Come inside. It’s rather cold out.”

He’s got you seated in the living room as he brings a pot of tea and some cups. Your hands felt rather cold so this should warm you up, he insists. You take the drink with a sincere thanks, cheeks warm.

“You probably have not eaten since you were locked out. It was a long walk here I’m sure.” Jing Yuan returns with a small tray of fruits and an assortment of small snacks. It quickly takes up much of the coffee table and you anxiously reassure that he shouldn’t have to trouble himself over this for you.

The tea on your lips brings a delightful feeling of reassurance—belonging.

“Who are you, really?” Jing Yuan asks casually, a sharpness barely registering as he maintains his cool. “I know the person in front of me is my true beloved, however, one does not change overnight.”

Your body falters, and there’s a haze that you can barely hear Jing Yuan’s familiar voice through. The heliobus is struggling to maintain composure.

“What do you mean? I’m–”

“Eye contact.”

“What?”

Jing Yuan chuckles, something smooth and calculating. “She cannot hold eye contact for more than four seconds, not even with me most of the time. When you arrived, it was far too straightforward.”

He reaches over to pluck the teacup from your hands, turning it in his grip inquisitively. Your mouth is left agape, fingers slightly twitching as the heliobus struggles. There are slight lipstick smudges all around from where you (or rather, the heliobus) drank from it.

“You do not know her character. She is particular about drinking from only one area where her lips have already stained the cup. She is meticulous. You are not.”

“T-That’s not–” Your voice shifts as the heliobus begins to lose hold. It’s disorienting—feeling like you’re listening to a conversation within a dream.

“And lastly,” he continues, “she would not have knocked. She would have messaged me of her arrival.”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Ah, right on time.”

Jing Yuan stands, the heliobus at a loss for words at such an overbearing energy he gives off. A silent rage flickers like embers with his piercing honeyed stare. The fear is raw as it courses through them—the feeling weighing heavily on you by extension.

The smile Jing Yuan gives is anything but sincere. You feel a shiver run up your spine. “It seems your time playing a part is now over. I would like my beloved back. Do give the Ten-Lords Commission my regards.”

[honeybeefae]

Making An Heir (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY THIRTEEN: BREEDING

Summary// The pressure from the advisors and members of the court for the two of you to produce an heir is high. It is all anyone can talk about and while you certainly enjoy the idea of having children, you don’t expect Eris to feel the same given his parental history. He has stayed mostly quiet on the subject until he catches you in the mirror with a pillow under your blouse, imagining what it would be like. 

(I know this is out of order for the Kinktober fic but so many of you guys requested it so enjoy it, you dirty little readers. Also thanks so much for the anon who suggested subspace bc that was so much fun to write! ;))

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk, subspace, dom!Eris, sub!Reader, cumming inside (pls wear protection), talk of pregnancy

You had been mated with Eris for five years now and it was like you were truly living for the first time. He was the center of your life, the ship in the middle of the ocean, the warm blanket you cuddled with at night. Life began and ended with him and you knew he felt the same way.

He spoiled you with anything you could ever want. Jewels, dresses, books, pets, anything your heart desired he would go find because he loved making you happy. You knew not every mated couple had such a good life, that sometimes fate was more than met the eye, but yours was truly meant to be.

Everything had been perfect in your lives…except for the last few months. The Autumn Court advisors had been prying into your private lives, pestering Eris on when he would produce an heir. It angered you every time it was brought up as they acted like it was your fault. As if you were the one who was refusing a child.

It couldn’t have been farther from the truth. You had wanted children with Eris since you first started courting, dreaming about the little red-headed babes running around your feet. Fae pregnancies were incredibly difficult on the body and were also rare, however, you had no fear. 

But you could not say the same for your mate. Eris avoided the subject like the plague. He would shut down his advisors with a simple wave of his hand and a frown while also doing the same with you.

You knew some of it was his own fears of fatherhood given how he was raised with Beron but you had assured him many times that he was not his father. Eris is ten times the man Beron was but he couldn’t seem to understand that. It was one of his worst fears to turn out like him.

Eris was also terrified of something happening to you. He had heard of what almost happened to Feyre, albeit her situation was a little different. What if he lost you? He didn’t have some magical gift from the Cauldron to bring you back. You would be gone forever and he would either be left alone or with a child who killed his mate, their mother. How could he love someone that did that?

The last two weeks had been full of tension as one of Eris’s brother’s wives had fallen pregnant, announcing it in court with an evil smirk on his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing by making such a public spectacle and you had had to force a smile the rest of the evening as everyone stared at you in judgment.

In their heads, you had only one job to do that you were currently failing at. This entire situation was weighing heavily on your shoulders but you did not want to force Eris into something he did not want. 

However, that didn’t mean you couldn’t wish for it still, did it? That you couldn’t desire it secretly in the quiet of your bedroom?  Eris was supposed to be gone for the day on a hunting trip, the first he’s taken in a month, so no one should be seeking you out until nightfall.

Your eyes landed on a soft pillow atop your shared bed, biting down on the inside of your cheek as you walked quietly over and grabbed it. There was no real need for you to be quiet but you still felt as if you were doing something wrong. You went back to the mirror in the corner of your room and stood in front of it, positing yourself to the side.

With one hand you lifted up your skirts and used the other to stuff the pillow inside it until it was settled against your belly, making it pop and give a lumpy shape of roundness. It didn’t look like a typical pregnant belly but the feelings that ran through you were all the same.

Sadness, pining, joy, pain, it was a cocktail of emotions that made your head spin. 

You began to imagine it as your real belly, of all the dresses you could have tailored and how Eris would kiss your stomach every morning and night. Would Eris like you like this? Would he be constantly wanting to touch you, rub you, or would he want nothing to do with you?

Minutes passed as you watched yourself in the mirror, rubbing the pillow as if it were real. You were so lost in your fantasy that you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps of your mate or the door opening.

“What are you doing?” His voice pierced through your imagination, making you jump and turn towards him.

“Eris, I-” You flounder over your words, cheeks heating up as he stares at you with furrowed brows. “I was just, I mean, Eris I’m sorry…”

“Is that a pillow?” You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you playfully or if he was genuinely upset. Either way, the embarrassment made you want to be swallowed by the floor. Quickly you yanked the pillow out from underneath your dress and held it behind your back, looking down at the floor.

“I know you don’t want kids. I know you don’t want to talk about it. I promise this isn’t a trick or anything I just wanted-” You explained, tears wetting your eyelashes as he came over to you and lifted your head up. 

“What did you want, my lady?” Eris murmured, amber eyes softening at how upset you were. “You can tell me.”

“It’s nothing. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“Y/N.” His voice was stern, knowing that wasn’t the truth. 

“I just wanted to see what I would look like pregnant.” You whispered. “It was silly.”

“Do you want to be pregnant?” He asked you lowly, catching your eyes once more. “Is that what you want?”

You felt the words stuck in your throat as he stepped closer to you, caging you in his arms. When he found you thought that he was going to be angry or disappointed but this reaction was completely unexpected.

“My advisors have been hounding my back nonstop over this… predicament of  ours.” Eris continued on, the corner of his lip turning upwards. “Day after day, night after night. I had been worried you weren’t ready, that you would be terrified, and yet here I catch you doing this.”

“I-” You tried to interrupt but quickly shut your mouth when he grabbed your hips roughly, turning you around so that your back was to his chest and you were staring at yourself in the mirror.

“You what? Hm?” He taunted, intertwining your hand with his and slowly dragging it down your body. Goosebumps rose on your skin as his smoldering eyes never left yours, his pupils blown wide with desire. “You want me to fill you up with my cum, little fox? To pound into you like a beast takes his bitch? To breed you?”

Eris loved to talk like this in the bedroom and you weren’t ashamed to admit that you also loved it. The control, the domination, of his words made you melt and want to please him. And with the words he was saying about breeding you…it was no surprise that your pussy was clenching in anticipation.

“I asked you a question, Y/N. I expect you to answer.” Eris reprimanded, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear as his other hand came to circle around your throat. “Is that what my lady commands of her lord? To fuck an heir into her?”

Whiplash was the only thing that you could describe as feeling with how things were turning out. It was like a flip had been switched in him but you were already too drunk on lust to question it, nodding your head and whimpering.

“Yes, yes, sir.” You answered, groaning when he untangled his hand from yours and squeezed your breasts through your dress. “I…I want you to fill me up.”

“Breed you. You want me to breed you.” He corrected, pinching your pebbled nipple which had you squirming. “Say it.”

You swallowed thickly and looked at him through the mirror. 

“I want you to breed me, my lord.”

Eris grinned wickedly and turned you back towards him, wrapping your hair around his hand and pulling your neck back until it was almost at a ninety-degree angle.

“Well then, I suppose we better get started. Now.”

He was anything but gentle as he took the collar of your dress and ripped it with his bare hands, biceps flexing underneath the thin material of his shirt. You shivered as your body was exposed to the cool air. 

“On your hands and knees.” He orders, smiling when you immediately followed his command. Normally you would mouth off and be a little brat, asking for punishment, but tonight it seemed you were ready to be his good little girl. 

You turn to look behind you, feeling your wetness grow from the way he was devouring you with his eyes. Eris began to rid himself of his clothes, his cock standing at attention and ready to pump you full of his hot seed. He climbed behind you, his large hands running over the curve of your ass.

The bed dipped as he knelt on his knees, pushing the material of your panties to the side to unveil your dripping cunt. “I love how wet you get for me, Y/N,” Eris growled, licking his lips. “I’ve barely even touched you and you are already making a mess on these sheets.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You whisper, not sure if he wanted you to apologize or not. He chuckled and ran a single finger down your pussy, collecting the juices and bringing them to his mouth.

“Look at my little fox using her manners.” He praised, moaning at the taste of you. “You want this badly don’t you?”

“Mhm.” You nod, taking in shaky breaths as you felt hot air on your lips. It was a wonder that your entire body wasn’t shaking with need at this point.

“Well what my lady wants, she gets.” Eris said before burying himself in your sex, his tongue flicking over your clit in quick swipes while his nose teased your hole. “Fuck you taste like heaven on my tongue.”

You could only whine in response, legs squeezing either side of his head as he feasted on you. He knew all the right speeds and ways to eat you out, how to make you sing in pleasure. Your arms were wobbling from the waves of pleasure he was giving you.

The room was filled with the filthy sounds of him slurping you up, one of his hands kneading your ass while the other stroked his cock. You could hear the wet sounds of him touching himself, making you even more delirious. 

“I want you to cum on my tongue, little fox.” Eris said firmly, taking your entire clit into his mouth and sucking. The action had you crying out in ecstasy, feeling like you were floating above your body as your entire body shook. 

He was always able to make you cum quickly because he took the time to know everything that made you tick, good and bad. Eris used it to his advantage many times and tonight was no different. You didn’t want this to be over so early but you also knew that tonight was special. This was going to be the first of many.

“Eris, ah!” You cried out, feeling that coil in you snap. He grunted in satisfaction when you started to mindlessly grind backward onto his face, your hands fisting the sheets. “It feels so good, sir.”

Every last drop of your cum went down his throat and his chin, his eyes closed in bliss. When you started to squirm from sensitivity he pulled back, holding the base of his cock and lining it up with your entrance.

“I’m going to breed you now,” Eris growled, not giving you a chance to recover as he thrust in until his balls slapped against your already tender clit. “And you are going to take it all, aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer fast enough, couldn’t answer, as you were still reeling from what he had just done. However, your mate had little patience and was quick to grab your hair once more, pulling it until you whined. 

“Yes, Eris, yes,” You stuttered, enjoying the slight burn coming from your cunt as he stretched you out. “I’ll take it all, I’ll be good.”

His eyes were almost completely black as he gave you a feral grin, pulling almost all the way out before stuffing you full. Your tits were bouncing with each thrust, your hair still wrapped around his hand as he threw his head back in rapture.

“I know you will. I know you will.” He cooed, pulling his head back to watch his cock go in and out. The sheets were indeed a mess underneath you, a giant wet stain that was only going to grow as the night went on. 

One of your hands went down and began to fiddle with your swollen clit, moaning loudly as he fucked you hard. Eris noticed and clicked his tongue, using the hand that had your hair and pushing your face into the mattress. 

“Look at you, already trying to cum again.” Eris jeered, his grip bruising on your hips. “My lady is just a desperate little whore, isn’t she? A little whore who wants to be bred, to carry my children and do it over and over and over again.”

Your cries were muffled as he laughed darkly, feeling the familiar tingle of his own orgasm creeping up his spine. “But she’s such a pretty whore…” He purred, letting go of your head to brush the hair out of your face. Your entire body was being jolted by the force of his body, and your mascara was smudged, but you were too high on your own lust to care. 

“Please, please, please, sir.” You babbled, bottom lip quivering. “I wanna cum, I want you to fill me up, please.”

He grunted and furrowed his brows, his long red hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat as he put all his concentration on your pussy. “You don’t get to cum right now, Y/N. I want you to hold it in for me.”

Eris’s thrusts grew sloppily as his balls tightened, picturing you with a swollen belly and heavy tits. It made his mouth water and he barely heard your pleas of mercy. You felt the first spurts shoot into you, his cum almost burning, and it made your entire cunt clench around his cock.

“Don’t you fucking cum.” He swore, groaning in pleasure as he emptied himself into your womb. You felt tears fall down your cheek, desperately craving that release. It was taking all the will of your body to not give in to what you wanted.

The sheer amount of cum was too much for you to contain and it leaked through the seal of your lips, dripping onto your legs and the bed. He gave two more thrusts before pulling out completely, admiring the way he left you gaping and gushing. 

“You did so well, little fox.” Eris commended, pushing two thick fingers inside you and scooping out the mixture of his seed and your juices. He flipped you onto your back with one hand, your hair sprawling around you as he held those fingers over your mouth. “Suck.”

With tears staining your cheeks you followed his orders, chest rising and falling quickly as you swallowed it like you knew he wanted. Eris’s eyes turned tender upon seeing you, breaking the facade briefly to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. You were grateful for it even though you were still aching for him to let you cum.

After a minute he pulled away, noticing you fidgeting. “Does my little whore want something? Was that not enough for her?”

You nodded shyly, eyes widening when he laid down beside you and then patted his lap. His cock was already hard once more, glistening in the firelight. You climbed onto his lap, looking down at him. 

“Well? What do you want?” He pressed, one of his hands resting on your hip while the other went to your cunt. Eris smirked as he pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, enjoying the way you jumped. “You want to cum again? Greedy little girl.”

“I-” You tried to interject but shut your mouth when he suddenly lifted you up as if you weighed nothing, your hole hovering above the tip of his dick. 

“It is greedy, Y/N.” He cut you off. “If you want to cum again you need to say it.”

The words were on the tip of your tongue. Eris loved to make you say these things, to make you degrade yourself. It made you feel embarrassed but you also knew you weren’t going to get what you wanted if you didn’t.

“I”m a greedy little girl.” You murmured, sucking in a sharp breath as he thrust up slowly. Inch by inch he filled you again, both of your cum making it easy for him to slide in. “I want to cum again, to be filled up by you, sir.”

“Ride me then, Y/N,” Eris ordered, letting you bottom out and giving you a hardy smack on your ass. “Take what you want. Be a good girl and fuck yourself on my cock. Make yourself cum.”

Some people would think that this was a blessing, that he was giving you what you wanted, but it was far from the truth. You did love riding him, loved watching him watch you, but he knew as well as you did that you needed him to make you cum. You couldn’t do it yourself.

You began to bounce on him, hoping this time you might be able to do it without him, and moaned as he hit that spot deep inside you. Your hips rolled and breasts swayed with each rise and fall of your body, his amber eyes never leaving your face.

“That’s it, my little whore, ride your lord’s cock.” He snickered, noticing the frustration building within you. “Show me how badly you want it.”

The need in your stomach was growing like an inferno. You were fucking yourself with all your strength, both of your hands resting on either side of his body as you whimpered through your teeth and closed your eyes in concentration. 

“I want it, I want it, please sir.” You whined, your mind slowly slipping away from you as you seemed to stay on the edge of orgasm for hours. It was driving you insane. “Eris, Eris, I can’t. I need, I need-”

“What do you need, Y/N?” He cooed, smiling as your eyelashes fluttered and your hips finally slowed. His cock fell out of you and he knew you were getting into your subspace, something that made him feel tender and hungry at the same time. “Do you need my help?”

You barely had the coherency to nod, looking up at him with complete trust and want. “Please…”

He kissed your forehead and rolled you onto your back, lining up his cock and inching himself inside you once more. Both of his hands interlocked with yours and brought them above your head, keeping you still as he started a slow, hard rhythm.

You called out his name in ecstasy, enjoying the way his lips trailed over your neck and collarbone. “My sweet lady, so ready to take my cum and let me knock her up.” He breathed into your ear, pressing his forehead against yours.

“This is all you want, all you need, is my cock inside you.” Eris’s breaths were coming faster now, loving the way your walls fluttered around him. “You wanted to be bred and now you are. Your cunt is so full of me that you’ll be leaking for days, feeling it drip down your leg but it doesn’t matter because I’ll keep stuffing your pussy every night until this belly is round and tight.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt the crest of your orgasm coming up, your back arching off the bed as your throat burned from all the screaming you had been doing. All you could do now was whimper, your hands coming to circle around your neck as you babbled incoherently.

“Eris, please, I wanna, please,” You turned your head from side to side, eyebrows scrunching together. “Cum, let me, Gods, please!”

“Do it, Y/N.” Eris encouraged, moving his hips until he felt that squishy spot inside you that made you see double. “Cum for me, my little whore. Cum all over my cock, let that pretty pussy clench around me. Be a good girl.”

Everything around you went white and your ears began to ring as you came, your toes curling and back arching even further until you were sure you were going to snap in half. Your mouth was opened in a silent scream, letting your body succumb to everything your mate was giving to you.

The sight of you coming undone was enough for Eris to follow behind you, his mouth covering yours as he held himself still. It made his balls ache from how hard he was cumming, cursing loudly as he pulled away to bury himself into the crook of your neck.

“Take it, Y/N, fucking take it.” He growled into your neck. “Gods, you are so fucking tight on my cock.”

It took the both of you several minutes to catch your breath, Eris’s dick softening inside you as you struggled to come back to reality. He knew that this was rougher than normal, without any breaks, and he had probably pushed you to your limit. 

But he had no regrets. And neither did you.

You barely registered when he scooped you up and nuzzled you close to his chest, whispering sweet nothings as he carried you over to the bathroom. Eris knew he needed to clean you before you went to bed and while he was waiting for the bath to fill, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at your stomach and wondering if it stuck.

Either way, you two would definitely be doing this again. 

[calicoheartz]

Embracing Truth ; Paige Bueckers ┈﹒

꣑୧ — summary | paige helps her gf come out of the closet 💐💌❤️

wc ; 870

— warnings | smalll hints of homophobia , anxiety related topics , mainly fluff + established relationship

my master list ㇀♡

1) i am sooo sorry for not responding to ur request anon! I accidentally deleted it from my drafts :(

a/n : this was so sweet and cute to write 🥰 this definitely healed something in me. Enjoy ◡̈

Paige sat on the edge of the bed, watching as her girlfriend, y/n, paced nervously back and forth between the blondes dorm. She could tell something was weighing heavily on your mind, and her instincts told her it was something serious. 

You and Paige had been dating since your second year of college, meeting during one of your shared classes. You knew you had always been into girls, often experimenting with them in highschool. But there was one problem, your parents didn't know.

They weren't necessarily homophobic per say, but to be fair the conversation of you being gay never was a topic of conversation. But the idea of one day having to tell them terrified you, especially since you knew the relationship with your girlfriend was becoming serious.

“Y/n, what's wrong?” Paige asks, snapping you out of your thoughts as she stood up and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop your pacing.

You took a deep breath, looking up at your girlfriend with tears welled in your eyes managing to croak out , “I don't know Paige, I really need to tell my parents… I need to tell them about us. But I'm just afraid that they won't accept me, accept us. What if they kick me out? Disown me??”

Paige’s heart ached at the sudden fear that lingered in your voice,  as she pulled you into a warm, comforting hug, holding you tightly. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’ll be right by your side every step of the way. We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, knowing that Paige would be there for you, and be by your side. “Okay,” you whispered, “Okay, let’s do this.”

A few days had passed since you had the conversation with your girlfriend, part of you wanted to procrastinate for as long as possible, because they would eventually find out regardless of when they were told. But your subconscious knew that now was the time, especially since you were serious about the blonde. You had to embrace the truth, your truth.

You and Paige drove over to your parents house one Friday evening, in the hopes of possibly sharing this important news over dinner. You were a bundle of nerves, but the blonde held your hand reassuringly as the two of you began to walk towards the front door. You took a pause, hesitating to ring the doorbell , after gathering your thoughts, you gently pressed on the round button in front of you, revealing a small chime in reply. You were soon greeted by your parents, who were surprised but happy to see them. 

“y/n, Paige, what brings you here?” your mother chirps. Hugging the both of you before inviting you two inside.

As you walked through your house, skimming past the dining room and making your way towards the living room, you plopped down on the couch before breaking the silence, “We have something we need to talk to you both about” your voice trembling slightly.

Once the rest of them had joined you on the couch and surrounding seats, you took a deep breath and began to speak again. “Mom, Dad, you know how I’ve known Paige since freshman year of highschool? And how we’ve spent a lot of time with each other since then..” the two of them nodded in response before you continued, “well.. I realized that I like her  more than a friend way. What I’m trying to say- I’m saying is that I’m with Paige. Like we’re dating..” your voice trailing off before facing them both in the eye, as your eyes had been previously wandering and focusing on different objects in the area. “Im gay.”

There was a brief moment of silence as your parents processed the information. You feared the absolute worst as the seconds of silence passed by, but then you mom spoke up, her voice filled with love and acceptance. “Sweetheart, we love you no matter what. We just want you to be happy.”

You couldn't hold back your tears as you hugged them both, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. Paige wrapped her arms around them all, feeling grateful to be a part of such a loving and accepting family.

After the initial shock wore off, your parents welcomed Paige with open arms, eager to get to know her now officially as their daughter's girlfriend. You all spent the evening talking and laughing, and you couldn't have felt more loved and accepted. 

As the night came to a close, and as the both of you drove back to the blondes dorm, you couldn't stop smiling. Your heart was full of love for Paige and your family, as you squeezed her hand as a way to silently say I love you.

“I love you, P,” you whispered quietly, your voice filled with emotion. “I love you too, y/n” Paige replied, squeezing your hand back gently. “I'm so proud of you.”

And in that moment, that's when you knew that no matter what challenges you both faced in the future, as long as you had your girlfriend by your side, you could handle anything.

as always, thank you guys so much for reading!! don't forget to leave reqs :)

[brainddeadd]

jack dating a zegras sister and trevor finding out (happy ending )

Jack Hughes had been dating you, Trevor Zegras' little sister, for a few months now. Everything about the relationship felt right, like you had been meant for each other. But the one thing hanging over Jack’s head like a cloud was the fact that his best friend didn’t know. He wasn’t afraid of Trevor’s reaction necessarily, but the idea of hiding something from him weighed heavily.

One afternoon, after a solid game of pond hockey, Jack and Trevor were lounging on Trevor’s couch, tossing a puck between them. That’s when Trevor brought it up casually.

“You know, my sister’s been seeing someone,” Trevor said, raising an eyebrow as if daring Jack to offer any thoughts. “She keeps disappearing, always on her phone. It’s suspicious.”

Jack felt his stomach flip. The puck nearly slipped from his hand.

“Oh yeah?” Jack tried to sound casual, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Yeah,” Trevor continued, sitting up now. “I’m gonna figure out who it is and make sure this guy knows not to mess with her.”

Jack swallowed hard, knowing he couldn’t keep this from Trevor much longer. He cared about you too much to keep hiding it, and Trevor deserved to know the truth, no matter how awkward the conversation might be.

“Trevor,” Jack started, sitting up straight. “I think we need to talk.”

Trevor’s eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious of Jack’s tone. “What’s going on?”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “I’m the guy she’s been seeing.”

For a moment, there was silence. Trevor blinked at Jack, his expression unreadable. The seconds ticked by painfully until Trevor finally spoke.

“You?” he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.

Jack nodded, keeping his gaze steady. “Yeah, we’ve been dating for a few months now. I didn’t want to keep it from you, but… I just wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

Trevor was quiet again, clearly processing the information. Jack braced himself for some kind of explosion—anger, frustration, anything—but it didn’t come. Instead, Trevor let out a long sigh and leaned back against the couch.

“Well, that explains why you’ve been acting weird,” Trevor muttered. “And why she’s been sneaking around.”

Jack looked at him cautiously. “Are you mad?”

Trevor stared at him for a second before cracking a small grin. “I should be, but I’m not. You’re my best friend, and if anyone’s gonna date my sister, I guess I’d rather it be someone I trust.”

Relief washed over Jack, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, man. I really care about her.”

Trevor groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Alright, alright, but don’t get all sappy on me. Just… treat her right, or I’ll kick your ass.”

Jack laughed, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”

In the end, Trevor wasn’t as mad as Jack had feared. It took him a bit to adjust to the idea, but knowing his best friend was the guy treating his sister well made all the difference.

By the end of the night, the three of you were hanging out together, and the tension had melted away. Trevor even gave Jack a mock warning glare every now and then, but it was all in good fun.

[vigilante-3073]

Harm

Edward Cullen x Female Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Y/N has always had issues with physical contact and Edward never understood why until an accidental touch brings up unpleasant memories for her.

TW: Mentions of sexual assault, death and molestation, angst.

*Contains mature themes that could be triggering*

Y/N had always had an issue when it came to physical contact, she would shift away like any kind of unexpected touch made her squeamish. Edward had never questioned it, simply assuming that it had been a matter of personal preference. Physical contact had never been a big factor in their friendship and Edward found it easy to respect her boundaries.

Most people were willing to accept her dislike of physical touch, but there would always be people who didn't understand or respect her wishes.

They were walking down the hallway talking about their biology assignment when Emmett ran up behind Y/N and grabbed her waist. She let out a panicked scream as memories began to race through her mind. The memories were so powerful that Edward couldn't keep himself from hearing them.

"Here, munchkin, I got you a toy, but you can only have it if you promise not to tell anyone about our little game," The man said to a 5-year-old Y/N.

The sound of a belt buckle clinking and a sudden unyielding feeling of fear overcame everything.

"Such a good little girl," The man said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before leaving her bedroom.

The memories continued to fly by, each one more unpleasant than the last. It was years of torture, fear and abuse. Her emotions were overwhelming as the memories began to resurface, like a festering wound that never healed.

Emmett set her down on her feet and she immediately broke free of his hold, running down the hallway and into the girl's bathroom.

"The hell was that about?" Emmett asked.

Edward shook his head before quickly following after her. He pushed aside his discomfort and made his way into the women's restroom. Edward moved over to the stall where Y/N had fallen to her knees, coughing and retching as she threw up.

Edward held her hair back, providing silent comfort as she continued to get sick. The memories obviously weighed heavily enough on her to produce such a visceral response.

She finished getting sick before slowly shifting onto her butt, leaning back against the wall of the bathroom stall. Tears rolled down her cheeks as Edward reached past her and flushed the toilet. He stepped away and wet some paper towel for her before returning to her side.

He held out the paper towel to her and she took it silently, wiping her mouth. Edward watched her, listening to her erratic heartbeat as it began to return to normal.

"Who was it?" Edward asked, she gulped, "My uncle," Y/N admitted softly.

"How long?" Edward asked.

"Until I was twelve," She stated.

"Where is he now?" Edward questioned.

Y/N shrugged, "I don't know," She said, toying with the paper towel in her hands.

"Did you ever tell anyone?" Edward asked.

She shook her head, "No, I was-I was scared and I just- I felt like it was my fault," Y/N said shakily, more tears gathering in her eyes.

"You were a child," Edward said, kneeling down beside her.

Y/N scoffed, "I could have said something but I didn't... I thought that no one would believe me," Y/N said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry that you felt like you were alone in that, Y/N. No one should have to go through that," Edward said.

Touch had become an evil thing for her. That man, that family member, had taken her choice away and robbed her of her innocence. Y/N was just a child when he took advantage of her and it went on for years before she was able to escape him.

Y/N was abused and manipulated into thinking that no one would believe her. She endured years of pain and lived in a state of constant fear of this man who was supposed to be someone she could rely on.

He was family.

...

Edward took some time away from school after that day. He told Y/N that he was going to see his cousins, but he wasn't going to Alaska. Edward went to Y/N's hometown and found her uncle stumbling drunkenly out of a bar.

The stench of alcohol permeated the man's entire being as he staggered over to his truck. He fumbled for his keys in his pocket, dropping them down onto the pavement with a mumbled curse. The man bent down to pick them up and Edward had appeared in front of him when he straightened up.

"The hell do you want, kid?" The man asked.

"I'm a friend of Y/N's," Edward said.

"Oh, wow, I haven't seen her in years," The man chuckled.

"You mean that you haven't assaulted her in years?" Edward questioned, eerily calm.

The man scoffed, "Now, I don't know what she told you-," He started.

Edward didn't allow him to finish, grabbing onto his throat and slamming him back against the side of his vehicle. The metal caved in from the force, knocking the wind out of the man.

"I know all about what you did to her and you deserve to endure a lifetime of suffering for it," Edward growled, leaning closer to him and tightening his hold around the man's neck.

He sputtered, hands shoving desperately at Edward's chest to try and push him away.

Edward felt like an avenging angel in this moment, choking the life out of such a vile man. It brought him comfort to know that he would be removing a very evil person from the world.

Edward leaned in and bit into the side of the man's neck, shredding the arteries and spilling his blood in the parking lot brutally.

He pulled away, watching the life drain from the man's face, "You will never hurt her or anyone else ever again," Edward said before letting him go.

He watched the man's body slide down to the ground, gasping and gurgling on his own blood as he died. This man was a predator and he finally knew what it felt like to become the prey.

...

Edward returned to Forks a day later with red eyes, Carlisle knew what he had left to accomplish and chose not to acknowledge it. Even Carlisle had to allow him leniency in this case, violence was never the answer until it was the only answer available.

That man was sick and he deserved to suffer for what he had done to such a kind person, a child nonetheless. He could not be saved or changed and the world would be a better place without him in it.

Edward never told Y/N about what he had done that day, but he would never forget the day her mother had told her the news. They thought it was an animal attack, her mother called it 'gruesome' and 'awful.' She had said that the animal responsible hadn't been located, but assured Y/N that they were searching for it.

Edward watched the look of recognition cross Y/N's face before her glossy eyes slowly came to focus on him. She hung up the phone, dropping it down on her bed.

"What happened?" Edward asked.

"My uncle is dead... They said it was an animal attack," Y/N said.

"Seems to be happening a lot lately," Edward stated.

Y/N stepped over to him, sliding her arms around him and pressing herself against his chest. Edward slowly wrapped his arms around her, holding her gently.

"Thank you," She mumbled, a few warm tears soaking into his shirt.

"You're welcome," Edward said.

She let out a soft breath before her body began to shake with sobs. Y/N cried until she had nothing left in her, standing silently with her head on his chest and her arms wrapped tightly around him.

His shirt had been saturated with her tears and he could feel her beginning to shiver from the ice cold temperature of his body. Edward wanted to get her a blanket or a warm cup of tea, but he knew that she needed this. She needed to hold onto him and feel safe.

Edward had protected her more than anyone else had and Y/N finally allowed herself to enjoy the touch of another person. Y/N would never have to live in fear of that man again and maybe she would eventually be able to tell her family about what he did to her. And if she didn't, her secret would rot in the ground with her abuser.

[ihatealimore]

Lover, You Should've Come Over

(word count: 1.432) (angst, comfort)

Sitting alone in the dim room, Kurapika finds himself consumed by a painful wave of regret. His hands curl into fists at his sides, fingernails digging dents into his skin as he thinks about (Y/N). A beautiful woman with sharp eyes that saw right through him.

"I pushed her away," He mutters to himself, the extent of his actions weighing on him heavily, "I was so concerned about dragging her down with me... I didn't consider what it would do to her."

The memories of their past together begin to seep into his mind like venom spreading its poison throughout an unsuspecting body. Their laughter echoing through empty halls, the way she'd playfully tugged on a lock of his blonde hair whenever they sparred together. Each memory brings forth another flood of bitter sorrow that gnaws at the edges of Kurapika's already damaged heart.

"She deserved better," He whispers hoarsely against the icy silence that wraps around him, "And I... I couldn't give it to her."

The taste of regret is sour on his tongue, but nothing stings more than remembering how (Y/N) had looked at him when he walked away, pure understanding reflected in those knowing eyes. A silent acceptance that cut deeper than any blade.

"(Y/N)," Kurapika breathes out, the name slipping from his lips like a prayer. 

His gaze focuses on the empty space before him as if he could summon her back with just his longing.

"I'm sorry. I should've stayed," He murmurs quietly into the stillness of the room, shame lacing every word, "I miss you..."

A strained sigh escapes Kurapika's lips, his eyes dull and filled with sorrow, "If only I could see her again..." His voice trails off into a broken whisper, the words hanging stubbornly in the stagnant air surrounding him.

He would give anything to see those bright eyes again, to see her smiling at him so tenderly, to feel the warmth of her skin against his own. The pain plaguing him seems unending, spiraling deeper within his chest with every passing second.

His hand instinctively moves towards where he imagines (Y/N) might be sitting if she were here, an empty gesture aimed at filling a void he himself had created. He misses everything about her, her stubbornness, her recklessness...

But most importantly, how understanding she was, even when things didn't make sense.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Kurapika declares quietly as if making a vow to himself, "I just want another chance."

The blonde-haired man's hand hovers over his phone, a deep sigh leaving his lips. He contemplates calling her, the weight of his decision making his heart pound louder in his chest. His fingers itch to dial her number, a series of digits he had memorized by heart.

The screen glows softly in the dim room, casting an eerie light onto Kurapika's face as he scrolls through his contacts until (Y/N)'s name comes into view. Her contact picture is one they'd taken together during happier times, both of them smiling so brightly that their joy seems almost tangible.

His thumb hovers over her name for what feels like an eternity, every second amplifying the heavy silence encompassing him. The fear gripping at him feels strong and suffocating. What if she doesn't answer? Worse yet... What if she does?

"(Y/N)..." He says under his breath, steeling himself before finally pressing down on her contact information.

As he brings the phone up to his ear, Kurapika bites down hard on his lip. He can taste the metallic tang of blood dripping into his mouth but he barely registers it. All he can focus on is the rhythmic beating of a dial tone, a stark contrast to his erratic heartbeat.

His grip tightens around the device as every passing second becomes a harsh reminder of how much time had been wasted, how many words were left unsaid, and how many actions were done out of fear instead of love. His breath hitches when after several agonizing moments, her voicemail greeting plays.

But even just hearing her recorded voice gives him a brief sense of reprieve, grounding him back to reality from where regret and pain drag him deep within its clutches. It isn't enough though. He needs more than just echoes of her voice trapped in a digital recording.

Hearing the beep indicating it's time to leave a message, Kurapika takes in a deep breath before speaking. His voice quivers slightly, but he presses on, "(Y/N)... It's me, Kurapika."

He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

"I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now but... I miss you."

The words taste bitter on his tongue, an admission of guilt and longing wrapped together.

There's another tension-filled pause before he finally lets out what had been gnawing at him all night long, "Please come over. I need to see you..."

With that final plea hanging heavily in between them, even if she isn't there physically, he ends the call. His phone drops back onto his lap as he leans back into his chair, letting out a sigh full of uncertainty and vulnerability.

She may not come... But at least now she knows how desperate he is without her.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, Kurapika had begun to lose hope. The silence is deafening and doubt claws at his insides with a vengeance. He spends the passing hours aimlessly pacing around his apartment, trying to distract himself from constantly glancing towards his phone.

When he hears a subtle knock echo through the room, the Kurta freezes in place, heart pounding fiercely against his ribcage as he makes way to the door.

Dread and anticipation swirls within him as he gently pulls open the door, revealing (Y/N) standing there under dimly lit hallway lights, her silhouette creating shadows that dance across her features.

For a moment, it seems as if time itself has stopped, everything silent except for their shallow breaths mixing together in sync before he finally releases an audible sigh of relief.

"Kurapika?" Her voice is filled with surprise, and before she can utter another word, he has already thrown his arms around her. His grip is tight, a desperate hold born out of fear that if he lets go even slightly, she'll disappear.

He buries his face into the crook of her neck, every inch of him attempting to memorize her, the way she feels against him, the faint scent of her hair mixing with the outside air lingering on her clothes.

A shaky breath escapes him as he tries to gain control over his racing heart, albeit in vain, because now that she's here within his reach again... He doesn't want to let go.

"Kurapika?" She echoes and the sound of her voice, so close and filled with concern, causes something warm to bloom in his chest. As she returns his embrace and begins to rub soothing circles on his back, he feels a few of the knots in his stomach start to unravel.

"You sounded... Unwell in your voicemail. Are you okay?" Her words resound through him, genuine worry laced into each syllable.

"I..." He swallows hard as he draws back just enough to look at her, meeting those beautiful eyes that hold nothing but sincerity, "I've been better," It isn't a lie but it doesn't feel like the whole truth either.

"I can tell," She replies quietly.

He lets out another trembling breath before tightening his hold around her again, not ready yet to fully face what's been haunting him for so long without having her close.

For now, he wants to linger in her arms. Holding onto her as if she's his lifeline, Kurapika allows himself to sink deeper into her embrace, her comforting warmth seeping through the fabric of his clothes and into his cold existence.

He presses his face further into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent deeply, "Just let me hold you for a bit longer," He murmurs against her flesh, hoping she'll understand just how much he needs this right now.

"Okay, I'm not going anywhere," She whispers against his ear, the softness of her voice flowing into him and further calming his anxious thoughts.

Kurapika's heart constricts at her promise, gratitude washing over him in waves. He tightens his hold on her further, as if conveying all the unspoken emotions through this one gesture.

He doesn't know how long they stood there in silence, time seeming to lose its grip on him as he simply allows himself to exist within this comforting bubble with her by his side... And for once, it feels okay to let down the walls around him even if it is just for a little while.

This feels like home to him, something he thought he had lost forever.

[shiny-jr]

damnation (peek I?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Ace Trappola, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Riddle Rosehearts.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: So, as mentioned in previous posts, this is only a snippet of what is to come in a project I’m working on. I just wanted to do something for my followers since we have surpassed the milestone that is 4,000 hearts, which is huge. So thank you! Unfortunately, I don’t really have time for a special like I’ve done before where I accept requests since I’ve been so busy with irl stuff and the current twst quiz project. So here’s a small bit of what you can hopefully expect. Remember, I may or may not change things, so what you see now may not be the same later in the final result. That being said, I’m sorry I couldn’t provide much else besides peeks at three of the seven results. I still have a LOT more to write. Like, a ton. But I hope you all look forward of what is to come. Added: Deleted the Scarabia and Pomefiore part to create their own sneak-peeks later.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

First there will be questions you must answer. Questions that I will not reveal in this sneak-peek, but based on the answers you give to those questions, you will receive a result with a story. This post is a peek at some of those stories/results. Important things to keep in mind that you learn from the questions: 

The mc is deemed a criminal in their society.

All criminals in this society are banished, no matter how insignificant or significant the crime may be. 

This particular society makes a show of banishment, to make others fear this fate. Which mc recalls seeing trials on tv about past criminals. 

All criminals are never seen or heard from again. No one knows for certain what happens to them, but most assume death. 

Although the most popular fantastical theory is that criminals become henchmen for infamous evil-doers, and receive punishment there that may range from anywhere like a violent painful death to spending eternity in some tiny horrid prison. 

THE RED QUEEN

Robes. You were wearing robes of the finest quality that weighed heavily on your shoulders. This surface you laid on felt... nice. Soft, nothing like the hard bench of the prison cell. As you sat up and recalled your current dire situation, you felt a sense of dread loom overhead like a thick blanket of gray clouds. Immediately, fearfully, you scanned your surroundings. Everything was painted red, there was so much red velvet. The floors were polished checkered black and white and the furniture, if not completely red, was crafted of finely carved wood. It was fancy here. Safe, for now. Wherever this place was.

There was something hefty on your head, only noticing its weight settling on your skull as you moved to stand up from the crimson red sheets on the king-sized mattress. As you removed the item from your head, you were perplexed to see a small golden crown and a heart-shaped staff beside the spot you had laid on. Wait just a moment... red everywhere? A fancy setting? A crown and a heart-shaped staff? Rapidly you dashed over to the mirror just beside the bed, gasping at your appearance.

You were dressed just like royalty. And not just any royalty, like a king. A king of red with a heart-shaped staff... Just like the meek king that was married to the ruthless Queen of Hearts from the fairytales. So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... you were the king. How did the story go again?

The Red Queen, or Queen of Hearts, ruled over Wonderland with an iron fist. She would behead anyone who got in her way, and her reign terrorized the residents of the realm. That is, until Alice fell down a hole and arrived in Wonderland. She would eventually free this land from the oppressive rein of the queen. As for the king... what happened to him again? He didn't really appear in the story. You wracked your memory for an answer, when the horrid realization came to you. The Red Queen had been so terribly jealous and suspected that her husband was cheating, that she had him beaded! His head left to rot as it floated in a river of blood, surrounded by the heads of other victims, and the king's lifeless skull still with the crown. He had died before Alice even arrived in Wonderland!

You clutched your neck, grimacing at the thought of your own detached head, crown still attached, doomed to sail in a moat of blood. It made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. There had to be a way to prevent your death, or at least stall for time, but how? The king couldn't just up and run away! People would take notice immediately, someone would inform the queen, and you'd be a goner for sure! But then what? You couldn't kill her either, could you...? It certainly was an idea. You would be doing a favor for the rest of Wonderland too...

THUMP!

Abruptly the doors flew open, nearly causing you to shriek. But you managed to hold your tongue as you quickly placed your crown back on and clutched your staff. When your eyes focused on the door, you were surprised and almost relieved to see the figure of a short young man that had slammed the doors open. He was... rather adorable, actually. It caused you to tilt your head, endeared by his appearance.

The young man had hair that shamed the red roses, and wide gray eyes. As soon as his eyes landed on you, however, his face grew flush and his expression twisted into one of rage. Immediately he slammed the doors shut behind him, stomping up to you, his heels violently clicking against the tiled floors. When the short young man was in your face, another horrible realization dawned on you. With that crown on his head and his wondrous red garbs, this could only be the queen. Or at least, someone meant to be the red queen.

“You knave! Where have you been lurking?!”

“I…” You were at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? What was the king even doing before you got here? Most importantly, how would you avoid the queen’s wrath?

At your lack of a response, he only seemed to grow more frustrated as he threw wild accusations, “You–– You’ve been sneaking about, seducing the men of my court, haven’t you?! I shall have your head––!”

“Wha–– N-No, I haven’t!” You blurted out. The king was originally beheaded because the queen was jealous and thought she would lose him to others. So if you could assure him that your heart belonged to him, well… survival just might be possible. Although acting wasn’t necessarily your strong point, you could only try for the sake of living another day. Nervously you smiled, throwing aside your staff as you lifted your hands to gently hold his fist he had been angrily waving near your face. Thank god he didn’t have a knife or anything of the sort, or you feared he may have tried to stab you out of raging envy. “How could I ever dare to throw my loyalty to you away…? You are amazing…! I apologize sincerely if I haven’t been able to express my love for you properly. S-Sometimes it feels like you’re really too much for my heart to handle, you in all your… glory…!” Oh god, this was going terribly. All you could do to give the messy act a bow to top it off, was lean your head down and hesitantly kiss the back of his hand.

Miraculously, that seemed to work. Almost. The queen’s face was no longer as flushed, but he gazed down at you as you lingered at his hand. Suspicion was still evident in his eyes. “How do I know?”

“H-Huh…?”

“How do I know you aren’t lying? How do I know you won’t leave me as well? How do I know that you still love me? Prove it to me.” Those gray eyes of his watched you carefully, seemingly unhappy with your lack of a response. After about five seconds of no answer, his face scrunched up and he bellowed, “Guards!! Gua–– mmph!”

Not knowing what else to do, you kissed him. He wanted a sign of devotion, right? Oh god, this was it. Your death was here and now. You had no other way to shut him up. If you covered his mouth with your hands, you were a goner. If you attacked him, you were a goner. If you tried to continue reasoning, you were still a goner! You can’t believe that this was how you died, having to kiss a stranger as your last desperate attempt to live. Well, he wanted a sign. You were ready for him to push you off and armored guards come running in to drag you to the guillotine, when the most unexpected thing happened. He froze, he didn’t fight back or scream bloody murder.

When you slowly pulled away, you were stunned. His face was flush again, but for an entirely different reason other than anger. There was a dazed look on his face, and it almost looked as if he wanted to do it again judging by how he gazed longingly at your lips. It was then you understood that your reckless decision making might’ve just saved your neck.

The red ruler frowned, but you were unsure if it was because he was unsatisfied with something or if it were for another reason entirely. This time, when he opened his mouth, he spoke softly, as if still dazed. “You scoundrel… How dare you play with my heart like this? I should still take your head for that.” You gulped, but he continued. “But… I truly didn’t want to get rid of you. So I’m glad we can avoid that now. I expect to see you well away from the noblemen.”

“Y-Yes… Your Majesty.”

At your obedient response, he smiled and patted your head. “Good.” Taking one step closer, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your cheek. He lingered there for a few moments, before taking one step back.

The action left you flustered, embarrassed, because not only had you kissed a stranger but they had kissed you in return. And not only that, this crimson ruler believed you were his partner, the king! Under normal circumstances, you would’ve considered yourself lucky to land in such a position since the king has so much power and wealth. But in this type of situation, you can only shudder to think of what may come next and what would’ve become of you. Because these were no ordinary circumstances, and this was no normal kind ruler.

“Come along now. I don’t want you alone, do you understand?”

“Yes… Your Majesty.”

He beckoned you towards the very doors he entered from, and when he opened them, you were met with another character. It was a tall man with glasses and short messy dark green hair. Immediately he bowed to the queen, but when his eyes landed on you, he looked as if he saw a ghost.

“Change of plans, Trey. We will not be beheading my dear today. Nor tomorrow, I think. They’ve become quite affectionate, so my doubts have been dismissed.”

“O-Of course, Your Majesty…” The glass-wearing man, Trey, glanced over at you with disbelief, but he looked a bit relieved, it’s as if he wanted to say something. But he opted to hold his tongue and instead shifted his gaze forward as he walked beside the red-haired royal. “There is still that soldier imprisoned that displeased you.”

“Ah yes, the one that claimed to see those messy blonde locks but failed to capture our lost wanderer. Bring him to me in the throne room.” Just then he glanced at you as you walked a bit behind him, “My dear, you must be there with me. This should be quite the spectacle. I will see you in a moment.”

“A-As you say, Your Majesty…” You replied stiffly.

He frowned and stopped in his tracks before grabbing your collar and bringing your face closer to his. What you half expected was a sharp knife against your throat, something that would kill you, but there was no such thing. There was only his sharp gaze and disappointed tone. “You’re supposed to respond with: my dear. Not Your Majesty, not Rosehearts, but perhaps I’ll allow Riddle for now. Do you understand, dearest?”

So his name was Riddle. Judging by Riddle’s tone, he wasn’t angry, but rather irked that all the sweetness from earlier was now gone. Proceeding, you chose your words carefully as you attempted to smile as convincingly as possible, “Y-Yes, of course, anything you say, Riddle, my darling.”

At your words his cheeks became a pink hue before he let go of you and cleared his throat, quickly turning away and proceeding forward towards the end of the hall where he had whatever duties to fulfill. So you were left with Trey, his subordinate. The calm tall man’s shoulders sagged once the royal left, all the tension seemingly evaporating from his body. When he gave you a somewhat soft smile, your worries ceased for the moment as well. “I’m glad you’re still intact. I was certain you were a goner.” He was… nice? “You need to be more careful. I don’t know what you did to change Riddle’s mind, but he was ready to behead you himself. You know how he keeps that huge battle ax under his bed. He mentioned something about using that, and I thought he was going to use it to chop your head clean off.”

Oh god. That little guy was going to do that? That stupid kiss really did save your skin. “Heh, I’m still a little shaken…” Wait, you were supposed to be acting like the king! What did the king even act like? How were you supposed to know? He never even lived long enough to make it into the story! “I, um, am very appreciative towards your concern… Trey.”  

Trey appeared a bit surprised but he then smiled once more at you. “We’ll talk more later. Right now, we have a situation on our hands.”

What kind of situation? You didn’t even have time to ask when Trey led you down the checkered hall to an opening behind velvet red curtains which were the entrance directly to the large elegant throne room. There, you saw another stranger talking animatedly to the less-than-pleased-looking Rosehearts. This stranger had orange hair that brushed against his lower neck, and he had much more enthusiasm than those you had encountered thus far.

“Dear, there you are.” Instantly Riddle visibly brightened up as he gestured to the soft smaller heart-shaped throne beside his much larger grand seat. “Come, sit, we’re currently discussing the important matters at hand. Such as the dilemma with our prisoner. Cater, continue.”

When this Cater, fellow’s, green eyes trailed over to you, they became filled with surprise as he fumbled over his words, “Huh–– O-Oh! Right!” Forcing his gaze back on the red-haired royal, he began explaining, “There’s nothing really new to talk about, Your Majesty! I mean, seriously, this rookie was just the unlucky one that happened to see that blondie Ellis. According to him when I went to question him, he just said that he saw the guy in blue and when he went to confront him, Ellis escaped with some purple beastman!”

“Purple beastman…?” For a mere moment he appeared perplexed, when quickly the dots began to connect in his mind as he gasped, “Chen’ya! Why, the nerve of that––!”

When you saw his face begin to heat up again and a look of anger crossed his face, you slowly placed your hand over his arm that rested on the armrest of the throne. Then, he froze, everyone else, Trey, Cater, the few servants, the many armored guards in the room, they all were wide-eyed at what you had done. You had touched the queen when they were about to enter a fit of rage! You messed up–– Shit––

Riddle released a slow breath before placing his other hand atop your own. You felt such a massive flood of relief knowing you made the right move when he appeared much calmer as he nodded his head toward you, “Thank you, my dear. We shall discuss a proper punishment for that wretched feline later. For now…” Instantly his voice did a one-eighty as he turned his head toward the two imposing doors and shouted, “Bring him!!”

Nervously you looked over at Trey who stood tall and upright by Riddle’s side, and he remained oddly focused on the door. And that orange-haired guy, Cater, where did he go…?

“Hey…!”

Your eyes flittered over to you right where Cater was bent over a bit to whisper in your ear, while everyone else was distracted by the prisoner being escorted inside.

“I’m so happy that you’ve alive…! Don’t go dying on me so quickly, ‘kay? You wouldn’t leave me all alone here, would you?”

“Uh… no, of course not.” Huh. This Cater guy seemed pretty close to the king, or now you actually.

When you averted your eyes to the front, you listened to the clacking of armor as you watched more soldiers bring forward one of their own. Yet unlike all the others masked by metal, this soldier in shackles didn’t have a helmet. His messy red hair stuck out every which way, which made you wonder how on earth he even managed to fit that mess of hair under a helmet at all. His eyes were glued to the floor, and he wore a stiff frown as his shackles rattled with every step he took until he was right before the steps leading up to the red royal. When he refused to kneel, he was pushed down to his knees as Riddle eyed him with disdain.

Riddle wasted no time, because as soon as this prisoner was on his knees, he began his tirade of questions. “Ace Trappola, was it? We know you saw Ellis. Do you know where he is?”

The soldier’s head lolled forward a bit, his warm-colored eyes stopping on you for a moment as you gazed back at him. In a way, this Ace reminded you of… well, you. In shackles, forced to kneel, in front of a higher authority that was obviously not particularly fond of you, and likely with a sentence that could only mean your doom ahead of you. In a way, you did feel for him after hearing the basis of why he was arrested.

All was silent, only his shackles could be heard again as he slowly shrugged and snapped back, “I’d like to know that too! I mean, I’m sure wherever he is, he’s free as a bird. Meanwhile, me? Locked up for trying to do my job––!”

“Failing to do your only job.” Riddle corrected with a scoff. “I will ask you one more time. Where. Is. Ellis?”

Ace, still annoyed, continued. He must’ve been either stupid or brave for continuing. Although it might’ve been both as he mocked him. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I. Don’t. Know.”

Under your hand you felt Riddle’s fingers dig into the armrest, his knuckles growing white as he raised his voice an octave, “What if I take off your head? Will you know then?”

“If you took my head, you wouldn’t get any answers after that.” He retorted with a slight eye roll.

Underneath your hand you could feel Roseheart’s anger growing the tighter he dug his nails into the chair. When you saw his face, you and everyone else could tell that he was fit to burst, no doubt ready to seal this soldier’s doom. Instantly you shot up from your throne, wanting to help save this prisoner. However, you very quickly began to regret it when all eyes darted over to your form, and you now became the center of attention. You couldn’t just sit back down, so with no other choice, you awkwardly cleared your throat and proceeded nervously, “My dearest, earlier when in our chambers I had an… um… epiphany! A vision! Y-Yes, I had a vision…! Ellis will slay your–– our, pet dragon jabberwocky.”

Instantly Riddle’s eyes widened. “He killed our jabberwocky?!”

“No…! No, at least not yet!”

Technically you weren’t lying. The story goes that the Red Queen had a powerful dragon, the jabberwocky, which was the main reason why she could keep such a grip on the kingdom with no rebellion ever coming close to dethroning her. At least, that is until Alice comes along and slays the jabberwocky. If you could somehow get rid of Alice, or Ellis in this case, and stay in Riddle Roseheart’s good graces, you would have it made! It was practically certain that the court back home thought you would’ve been beheaded already and your head would float in that river of blood for eternity. Yet here you were, alive, and if things went smoothly, you could live out your life in splendor here. Yes, you’d have to deal with the red royal, but if you could just stay in his good graces at all times, you would have a wonderfully lavish life! At this point you were just speeding things up, Ellis’ intentions of slaying the jabberwocky probably weren’t supposed to be revealed until much later. But, it would make a perfect excuse now.

As all eyes remained on you, you recounted your fake tale, “It all makes sense now…! In… In my vision I saw… A red-haired knight, um, clashing swords with a blonde man in blue and white!” Well, that part was a lie. There never was a red-haired knight in the stories. But this was an opportunity to potentially save Ace as well, and give him a chance to redeem himself in Riddle’s eyes. When you turned to face Ace, he was gazing at you with furrowed eyebrows, but you proceeded anyway as you gave your attention to Riddle now. “Riddle, I think–– I mean, I b-believe that knight is this one here in front of us.”

“Him?” The royal exclaimed in disbelief, looking at the soldier with something akin to disgust. To which the said soldier stuck out his tongue before a stern glare from Trey and Cater made Ace close his mouth. Riddle blinked, quiet for a moment before gazing up at you, his expression softening as he flipped over his hand so it held yours. “Is that what you were doing in our chambers alone? You were studying texts and had a vision, to save me?”

“Y…Yes…?”

His big gray eyes became fixated on you, as his voice became soft when he replied, “I’ve misjudged you, my dear… I believed you were being unfaithful, but you were working hard for me. How wrong I was.” The way he looked at you could only be described as adoringly.

It made you nervous, but you could only awkwardly smile in return. In order to ensure your own life of comfort here, you had to be sure to ruin the plot of the story. This meant that Ellis, the protagonist, could not win no matter what. Although it pained you to do such a thing, knowing that the outcome would most likely mean death by beheading him and his allies, you were more afraid of death than you were of the hero. For this, you would have to make sure the antagonist, Riddle Rosehearts in the role of the Red Queen, obtained a happy ending instead of a bad ending where he himself would be banished after being defeated by Ellis.

Clearing your throat, you hesitantly listed off the sequence of events in the way you recalled them playing out, “In my vision I saw… a blonde boy in blue, a purple feline beastmen, and a hatter, among other allies. Ellis will… will attempt to infiltrate the palace, and gain your favor under a disguise, and steal the ancient sword that can slay our Jabberwocky.” As all eyes and ears remained on you, you hesitated once again, mentally apologizing for what you were about to do. Maybe in the end, you might be able to plead with your supposed spouse to spare them. But deep down, you knew it was unlikely for the ruthless tyrant to even consider the idea. “Your Majesty, my darling, i-if I may make a suggestion…?”

Riddle nodded as he listened attentively, “Go on.”

Thankfully you had moved your hands away from his, and had them folded in your lap so he couldn’t feel the way your fingers trembled with anxiety. “I would like to suggest we allow this knight before us to carry the sword, sheathed and hidden at all times. Let this be his redemption–– um, please, if you allow it, your Majesty.” Said knight gazed up in surprise. “It would be best to keep sir Ace in our sights. So might I ask that he and another capable knight become my guards?” Guards. Smart move, especially if things get hairy later. “I-I’d also like to suggest an increase in your personal escorts too… my dear. So… so you’ll be safe. And, no one else besides those in this room, will know of what we spoke of today––”

“That way, Ellis will come here all on his own, and if he searches for the sword it will not be there.” Riddle finished, to which you nodded. He caught on quickly. “That’s brilliant!” You nearly breathed a sigh of relief as the red royal turned to glance at his two subordinates, Trey and Cater, only to gesture to the former prisoner and demand of them, “Unbind him, Trey. How can he wield a sword if his hands are bound?”

Trey slowly stepped forward as Ace was allowed to stand, and he unlocked the shackles around the knight. Ace continued to peer up at you, suddenly flashing a grateful smile. To which you only caught a glimpse of before being distracted by the redhead on the throne.

“Cater!” Cater stood upright immediately and awaited orders from the royal. “Find a suitable knight to escort my partner! I expect only the strongest and most obedient of knights! Am I understood?”

“You got it, Your Majesty! I already have a few in mind.”

“Wonderful. I will be interviewing them myself, as well as hand-picking my own escorts.” Riddle stood from his throne, tossing out more commands and orders to be followed by his remaining subordinate and the guards that had escorted the former prisoner. “You lot, I want an increase on the perimeter and another search crew to hunt down that wretched boy Ellis! Trey, go and fetch the sword. As for you, Ace Trappola,” Turning to face the knight, he warned, “You have one more chance. Should you fail a second time, there will be no do-overs. Your head will roll and your family shall pay the price for your mistakes.”

For a mere moment, disbelief and anger flashed on Ace’s face. Just as he opened his mouth, you spoke up, “T-Thank you, Your Majesty…! You really are so… merciful.” Better to be a pawn in this game than to be dead.

Riddle turned his attention to you before smiling, such a true and proud smile as he declared, “I have you to thank for this, for saving my kingdom and protecting me. Once we have Ellis and his companions captured, we will have a morning execution for him, with front row seats to the show." As his eyes drifted back to the onlookers, he commanded, "All of you shall speak nothing of what transpired in this room.”

A chorus of Yes, Your Majesty echoed in the chamber. The royal nodded, content for now, sending you one last smile before turning on his heels and walking off to elsewhere with Cater in tow. Leaving you alone with Trey and Ace as all other attendants and soldiers exited the throne room to go fulfill their duties.

Just for a moment, you wanted to talk to Ace alone. There was something about Trey, something about the way he watched you so calmly but there was something in those yellow eyes behind those glasses. Something that made it seem like he knew your secret, like he knew you were not really the king. You weren’t sure if it was your paranoia getting to you and your mind was just playing tricks on you, but you wanted to distance yourself as far away from him as possible. As the former prisoner made his way towards you, you cleared your throat and spoke quietly, but loud enough for Trey to hear. “Can–– M-May I have a word with you, sir Ace…? In private.”

“Sure, I’m free now.” He half joked, giving a bit of a grin which didn’t do much to ease your worries.

Trey stood beside the empty throne, watching as you glanced over at him and made a gesture for him to carry on with the assigned duty of retrieving the legendary sword, as dictated by His Majesty. To which he did, after he carefully observed the way you scurried behind velvet curtains with the knight not too far behind.

When you were finally out of sight with Ace, you noticed his raised eyebrow. Noticing this and the way he tapped his foot, you hesitated, unsure where you were even going with this or what you should do now. “You… You look like you have something to say.”

“Why’d you save me?” He demanded, all that cheerfulness from before gone now as things took a serious turn. Looking you up and down, he crossed his arms and continued, “You could’ve had your cute little hubby chop off my head like all the others before me. So, say it. That’s the reason you wanted to talk alone, isn’t it?”

He got you. Were you that obvious? You’d definitely have to work on being more discreet… Looking around twice to make sure no one was listening in, you huddled with him in a corner by the stained glass windows as you whispered hurriedly, in a panic, “O-Okay, whew, you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I’m not really the king, or queen, or whatever role I’m supposed to play here! Well, I guess I am now? Uhhh… h-here! It’s like this: I was put on trial in my homeworld, and as punishment I was banished. When I woke up, I was in Roseheart’s bed and he started talking to me like I was an unfaithful partner! I didn’t understand it, until I realized that it was all exactly like a story I read as a child. My punishment was to become the king that dies by being beheaded by his own wife! I… I got out of that somehow, and now, well…”

Ace was looking at you as if you were crazy, as if you had grown an extra head or something. His arms were crossed and he continued to stare at you. Should you have done that? Could you trust him? Well, he did owe you his life. If things really came down to it, you could have him arrested again and beheaded. Play the victim, call guards, and make up some lie that he attacked you, but you really really didn’t want it to go like that… Finally, after a few seconds, he shook his head and gave a weak chuckle, as if he couldn’t even believe it. “Hold on, let me get this straight: You’re not royalty, but you’re a criminal from another world? Did you hit your head or something?”

You knew it. He wouldn’t believe you after all.

“I mean, they keep saying this Ellis loser came from another world too… So… Maybe your story doesn’t sound too crazy after all.” His scarlet eyes focused on the floor, as if considering something. “You really weren’t lying about knowing the future. And I thought you had gone mad or something! So I’m a hero in the story?”

You could only scratch your arm nervously, a bit regretful for having to crush his sudden burst of excitement. “Ahaha… not exactly? I made that part up…”

Disappointed at the revelation that he wasn’t some badass hero wielding a legendary sword, he scoffed, “Seriously? So why save me then?”

“Look…” You took a deep breath, hiding your fidgeting fingers in your palm as best as you could. “We were both supposed to die. At least my character was mentioned in the story, but you? Y-You weren’t even mentioned at all…! You were just a nameless faceless soldier, someone not even worth mentioning––”

Offended, he snapped back, “Faceless? Rude much!”

You quickly shushed him, internally freaking out at the prospect that you may have been overheard. But when nothing else and no one else stirred, you frowned and muttered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just really nervous… I guess what I’m trying to get at here is… why don’t we both help each other survive?”

“What?” Shaking his head in disbelief. First this person called him someone not even worth mentioning then they ask for his help? Seriously, what was with them?

“T-Think about it…! I’m the second most powerful person in the entire kingdom…! I know what will happen! Kinda…”

“Well, I do want to live just as badly as you do…” It appeared he was still on the fence. Leaning his weight against the wall, he demanded, “But what do you mean you kinda know what will happen? I thought you, for sure, know.”

“Um…” Twiddling your fingers, you hesitantly explained the dilemma, “I did mention we were both supposed to die… And while that part isn’t a lie and the whole you being the destined one to stop Ellis was a lie, the other thing I didn’t lie about was Ellis gathering with his allies to infiltrate the palace and acquire the sword to kill the Jabberwocky. That will actually happen. S-So, since I told everyone that––”

“Let me guess, you told it early?”

Freezing, you gazed up at him and murmured, “H-How did you…?”

He shrugged, “I would’ve done the same thing if I were in your position. That means a higher chance of survival, right? Assuming that the blonde is the good guy and our king Rosehearts is the bad guy of the story. And considering all that, now you have no idea how the story will be affected, right?”

“R-Right…” Wait, now it just looked like you were useless! Immediately interjecting, you added, “But I can still make predictions based on what I know, like how things were originally supposed to play out…!”

“And you are still technically a royal…” Ace placed a finger to his chin, probably thinking about possible outcomes, upsides, and downsides if he agreed to work together. Finally, when his gaze flittered back to you and you stood upright, he questioned, “What if things don’t go how we–– you plan?”

You actually considered this briefly. If everything came crumbling down and all plans failed, there was but one last option to avoid any punishment. “Find Ellis and the White Queen… or is it the White King? I-It doesn’t matter…! The point is, the White Royal is very kind and merciful. If I go to them and explain that I am not really the Red King’s consort, then they’ll spare me…! If you come too and bring the sword to slay the Jabberwocky, that will assure them of our good intentions!”

“Isn’t that just running away? I don’t want to do that. And come on, the Whites? Are you for real? I thought us Reds were bad, but those pristine prissy little killjoys are no fun.”

For a second you wanted to strangle him. What kind of idiot would risk certain death by staying here if everything goes south, instead of fleeing to a good place that would grant you sanctuary? “It’s exactly running away, that’s the point…! The point is to stay alive!”

The redhead tilted his head to the side, his disappointed and serious behavior disappearing as he grinned. “What if I became king?”

Now it was your turn to look at him as if he were the insane one. Was this knight actually the mad hatter that had been driven insane by mercury poisoning?

“I do owe you one for saving my neck back there. And I won’t lie, I’ve dreamed about being king one day. And you, you’re actually way more ruthless than you seem at first. I thought you were a scared little wimp that always cowers behind their little hubby husband.” He mocked. Ouch. He thought you were a wimp…? “But turns out, I was so wrong about you. Sounds like you’re willing to do whatever it takes to live another day. Even turn on your own husband!”

He was whisper yelling, and it was starting to make you anxious that someone would overhear. So you whisper yelled back at a lower volume, “S-Stop that…! You know the truth, he’s not really my husband…”

That smirk made you think that he was going to respond in a louder voice, but thankfully he wasn’t that stupid. Just stupid enough to plan to overthrow the bloody Red King and talk about it in his own palace. But maybe you were stupid too, for talking about such delicate matters in the palace halls. Ace took your hands and performed a mock bow. “No running away, you got it? I’ll take that tiny red punk’s crown and become king, then I’ll keep you as a royal beside me, it’s the least I can do after what you did. We’ll both not only survive, but thrive. What do you say, Your Majesty~?”

[brattyfics]

Swampbound V

The rest of the day passed like a slow, heavy fog. Adla kept herself busy with chores, but her thoughts were spinning, caught up in the newly-discovered truths that had turned her world upside down overnight. 

Terry had shifted from a wolf to a man right before her eyes, and despite his wildness, he hadn’t struck her as a monster until he squared off against Jesse. Jesse, who she wasn’t sure she could trust anymore. She didn’t know how long he’d been hiding the truth or how many secrets he held, but the sharp edge of his lies cut deep. And then there was that dark mask that had slipped over his face—twice.

It all made sense now: his fussing about her walking the woods alone. They’d grown up tearing through the thick brush and vines in her backyard, never fearing what lurked out there. The worst they encountered was the occasional snake, and that was enough to send them flying back to her daddy’s arms. Gators and wild hogs were around, but they kept their distance unless you gave ‘em reason.

"Live and let live," she'd always believed in—until now. Now, she was being pulled into a world she’d only heard about in old stories—shapeshifters and whatever Jesse truly was. 

What else was hiding just beyond her sight? Had she been blind to the world around her all this time? She thought about the folks in town—faces she’d known all her life. Could any of them turn into monsters under the right moon? The idea that the world she knew was just a shadow of something far darker and deeper gnawed at her insides.

Adla ran a bath, sprinkling sea salt and lavender into the water, hoping it might settle her nerves. But no matter how long she soaked, the unease wouldn’t let go. Every few minutes, her eyes drifted toward the window, scanning the shadows outside. She didn’t even know why—whether it was instinct finally waking up, making her notice things she used to miss, or if, deep down, she was hoping to catch a glimpse of Terry.

Her mind churned with questions, pieces of old legends surfacing from the depths of her mind. Was he born like that or had it come upon him somehow? What brought him and his cousin to her little corner of the world? And Chief Burne—how had they gotten tangled up with him? But the question that weighed most heavily on her heart was personal—did Terry feel that same pull she did? Did he sense the charge in the air whenever they were close?

Was he out there right now, stalking Burne in the dark? 

She couldn’t know for sure.

As the bathwater cooled around her, the image of Jesse’s limp body flashed through her mind like lightning. She could still see herself standing over Jesse, Terry’s lips brushing against her neck, grounding her in the chaos.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for bringin’ all this trouble to your door.”

She looked up at him then, really looked at him, memorizing every sharp feature, the way the sunlight filtered through the window and highlighted his face. She knew he’d find his cousin, finish whatever it was that needed finishing, and then he’d be gone—like a phantom fading back into the night. 

The thought twisted something deep inside her.

“I need you to do something for me before you head out,” Her voice was soft, but there was a weight to it, something that carried more than simple words. Whatever she was about to ask would tether him here, one way or another, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever find the will to leave.

She didn’t know what was driving her, what compelled her to say the words, but she stared up into his eyes, searching for assurance. Her earlier ire had dissipated just like that, and all she could focus on was Terry. "Promise me you'll be careful. Get your cousin, but keep yourself outta harm's way."

"I’ll watch my back. You just take care of yourself." Terry said, his tone firm yet reassuring as he placed a comforting hand on the small of her back.

Just then, Jesse’s finger twitched—once, then again—an involuntary movement that sent a jolt of panic through her. Adla’s heart raced, and she could almost hear the ticking clock in the back of her mind, each second tightening the noose of dread.

Adla knew she should be angry with Terry, using all her energy to push him out the front door and out of her life. But in that moment, her judgment blurred. All that mattered was keeping Terry and Jesse apart.

"We need to move him outside. Make it look like he fell and hit his head! Just hurry—he can’t wake up in here, not like this!” Her voice trembled with urgency, a tight knot of anxiety coiling in her stomach. The fear of Jesse waking up to see Terry loomed over her like a dark cloud, thick and suffocating. 

Something whispered in her mind that crafting a story was the only way to hold back the coming storm.

Pulled by something she couldn’t explain, Adla snatched a mop and broom from the closet and dashed outside. Terry’s voice trailed after her, but she couldn’t make sense of his words; all she could think about was getting the place cleaned up. That one word—hurry!—echoed in her mind, pushing her hands to move faster, scrubbing away at whatever traces she could, as if she could sweep the whole mess out of memory.

As she scrubbed the porch with frantic strokes, her mind spiraled through the chaos of the morning—Terry, Burne, Jesse. The blood had dried, resisting her efforts, and she knew no amount of cleaning could erase what had happened. Still, it was the only thing she could control. Jesse would wake up and remember—he had to. Her hands moved in a desperate rhythm as dread gnawed at her. 

What would she say when he came to? And what would Jesse do?

“Adla, what are you—?” Terry’s voice cut through her frantic thoughts, but she couldn’t focus on him right now. She heard him moving Jesse’s unconscious body, his strong hands lifting the other man with ease, as if he were a child. A strange mix of gratitude and anxiety washed over her. If they could just get Jesse outside, away from the traces of his fight with Terry, maybe she could finally breathe again.

Her gaze darted to the small gash at the back of Jesse’s head as Terry set his body down, and something in her stirred—a fierce need to erase what had happened. As she dabbed at the blood seeping from the wound, she whispered, “Please don’t remember... please don’t remember...” The words slipped from her lips like a prayer, soft yet insistent. 

With every touch, she felt a strange sensation spark between them, her intentions weaving through the air like mist, settling in the fragile space between her and Jesse.

Now, as she reflected on that moment, doubt crept in. Jesse’s confusion struck her as odd. She’d staged a clumsy scene, but his memory should’ve helped him see through it.

He’d gotten riled up, insisting something was off, yet he hadn’t called her out on it. Was he pretending not to remember?

A chill ran down her spine. Had her whispered words done something? Maybe it had something to do with Terry’s supernatural abilities?

A flicker of realization tugged at her—a hint of something strange brewing beneath the surface. She didn’t understand it yet, but the fact that Jesse really seemed to have forgotten left her feeling unsettled.

With a heavy sigh, she slipped out of the bathtub, telling herself to stop chasing answers that weren’t coming. She prayed sleep would ease the steady stream of thoughts swirling in her head, but it didn’t come easily. Her eyes grew heavy as the drone of cicadas seeped through the window, growing louder until it overpowered her thoughts.

Moonlight crept in through the cracks in the curtains, casting soft, silver-blue ribbons across the room. The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, stirring cool air over her skin. Adla turned onto her side, drifting somewhere between sleep and waking—until something sent a jolt through her senses.

"I’m gon’ need your help again."

Adla’s eyes flew open. 

Terry sat on the edge of her bed, his presence too large, and too close for comfort. 

Her face mirrored silent disbelief—mouth agape, hands pressed against her cheeks, as if she were trapped in a nightmare. It had been one thing to offer her help earlier. This? This was something else entirely. 

What had she done by letting him in?

Instinct kicked in, and a rush of adrenaline surged through her veins. She moved fast, reaching for the nightstand, but then froze, her heart pounding as moonlight caught the glint of metal. Her pistol lay casually in his lap, as if it belonged there, held loosely—suggesting no immediate threat unless he decided differently.

Don’t freeze up now!

Her fingers twitched, searching under the pillow for her knife, only to find nothing but cool, empty sheets. Terry’s eyes followed her movements, a sly smile creeping across his face. “What you lookin’ for now, baby?” he murmured, his voice a smooth drawl that made her breath hitch, a mix of fear and something unnameable stirring in her gut.

He has some nerve callin’ me baby. ​​I ain’t helpless, and I sure as hell ain’t no baby!

That thought sparked something deep in her chest. She moved fast, aiming to shove him off balance, but he was quicker. In an instant, his weight was on her, wrists pinned to the bed, his breath hot on her skin.

The ceiling fan hummed lazily above them, oblivious to the heavy tension that now filled the room. She could barely breathe beneath him. His scent wrapped around her—earthy, masculine, and something a little wild beneath it all. Anger surged through her. She was furious at him for barging in like he owned the place, but even more at herself for letting him get this close.

How had he slipped in without her hearing a thing?

“What do you want?” she snapped, struggling against his hold.

“You,” he answered, his voice soft and steady like restraining her was nothing, “and that sharp mind of yours.” 

Adla’s brow furrowed.

Does he mean…in the literal sense? But before her thoughts could spin too far, he shifted, one hand gathering both of her wrists above her head, while the other reached over to flick on the bedside lamp. The soft glow cast shadows against their faces in the dark, making the moment feel far too intimate.

“Not literally,” he murmured, voice smooth as molasses. He lingered, closer than he should have, inhaling that sweet lavender on her skin. “Our deal still stands. Just curious about what you know 'bout the police chief and his boys.”

He’d promised not to bite unless she asked, but a small part of her wished he would. Let him sink his teeth in, drain her dry, and end it all. At least she'd see her father again and free from the troubles that had surfaced. The thought flickered in her mind, and she cursed herself for even considering it.

"Enough," she rasped, struggling to regain control—of her mind, her body, her will. “They’ve been shaking folks down for years. Make ‘em pay to live ‘round here. Starts small—maybe a busted window or slashed tire if you don’t pay up. But then it gets worse. Fires. People go missing. You pay, you’re safe. But not everybody’s got the money.”

"But you don’t pay, do you? Why’s that?"

Her pulse quickened. 

So he had been snooping, listening with those sharp ears of his. Cold sweat gathered at the back of her neck. What else could he pick up on without her knowing? Could he sense her quickened pulse was more than fear? Could he smell the heat pooling between her thighs? 

It was a bizarre sensation to feel while caught in her predicament, but there was no denying it was real.

“How do you know that?” she shot back, the tremor in her voice betraying her.

Terry’s eyes gleamed, a predator’s look—calm, controlled, but intense. His gaze swept over her like he could read every flicker of emotion, every tiny movement, as though she were a mystery he intended to unravel piece by piece. He echoed her words from earlier, voice smooth but firm, "I asked you a question.” 

Anger flared hotter in her chest.

Adla swallowed hard, her jaw tightening. “My daddy and Burne had an understanding. He honors it with me. I stay outta his way, he stays outta mine. That’s how it’s always been.”

Terry’s expression shifted, contemplating her words. 

“What do you know about that understanding?” 

“Not much,” she replied, frustration tightening her throat. “I was just a kid back then. Burne came around a few times, and every time, Daddy sent me out back like he didn’t want me to see whatever ugly business they were discussing. Burne never lingered, though.”

Terry’s jaw clenched tightly, his voice low and intense. “Think harder. There’s got to be something more.”

Her nostrils flared as she wriggled in his grip, her body tense against his, struggling to break free. "I’d remember better if I wasn’t being held hostage by a man who broke into my house." His grip remained firm, but she caught a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, frustration crossing his face.

“What are you mixed up in, Terry Richmond?” she demanded, searching for a crack in his armor. 

Finally, he released her.

She rubbed her wrists, sitting up with her eyes fixed on him, challenging him to explain himself.

“Did I hurt you?” Terry asked, his tone almost tender. He took her hands, fingers brushing over them slow and gentle, then pressed a quick kiss to each one, whispering sincere apologies against her perfumed skin.

She didn’t pull her wrists back, didn’t jerk away. Just held still, watching, waiting to see what he’d do next. One minute, he was charm personified; the next, red hot and demanding. 

“I’m fine,” she lied, but the heat between her thighs refused to fade, steady and pulsing, intensifying with every passing moment. She couldn’t shake it off for anything and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of root he was working on her.

“Don’t you worry ’bout my troubles,” he said, the weight of pulling her into his mess heavy on his shoulders. The fate of his cousin loomed over him, driving him to the brink. His shoulders sagged, but he held her gaze. “I’m sorry for barging in on you like this. It won’t happen again. I promise you that.”

He stood to leave, moonlight casting faint shadows across his caramel skin. She had a wild notion to ask him to stay—the house felt too lonely some nights—but that’s when her gaze caught the ink on his arm once more.

A jolt of memory struck her.

“Hold up a minute! That necklace! Chief Burne took a necklace with some kinda strange mark on it—the same one you’ve got inked on your arm!”

Terry froze in the doorway, his whole body going rigid. “You sure 'bout that?”

“Yeah! I remember it clear as day. It was real strange.” Memories of the past rolled out before her like an old film, every moment flickering back to life. “I found it once—Daddy had it tucked away in that old dresser.” She nodded toward the corner of the room.

“When I found it, he fussed at me somethin’ fierce, told me to stay outta his things. Daddy never got mad like that, not with me. The next day, it was gone. Didn’t see it again ’til Chief Burne came by and Daddy handed it over. I can’t believe I forgot!” She could still picture it—the way she’d perched on a rickety milk crate, peeking through the window to catch a glimpse of their exchange. It hadn’t held her long, but she saw enough to remember that moment.

Adla had thought her daddy’s business—and everything tied to it—had been buried with him. But now, it felt like a ghost from his past was rising to the surface. 

“What’s up with that necklace?”

Terry’s gaze shifted, a whirlwind of emotions churning just beneath the surface—hard to read but impossible to ignore. “Let’s just say it’s a piece of my family history.”

“What kinda history we talkin’ ‘bout?” Adla crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as the shadows seemed to thicken around them. Having a man in her bedroom felt surreal. Jesse always avoided this room during his visits, claimin’ it was too strange to be her daddy's old space. It felt like she and Terry were sharing something sacred and intimate, bound together in a way she couldn’t quite grasp yet.

“You think you can handle the truth? Knowin’ ain’t always what you think it is.” Terry asked, his voice roughening as he took long, deliberate strides back toward her bed. 

“I figure I’ve earned the right, considerin’ you keep breakin’ into my house.”

“You invited me in,” he said with a sly glint in his eyes. “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.” There it was again— that same strange fixation on the idea of being invited, like it mattered more than it should. “It’s gonna change everything you think you know. You ready for that?”

She hadn’t anticipated any of the turmoil since he’d shown up, but there was no turning back now. “Just tell me,” she urged, her fingers tracing the patterns on the comforter. When he settled onto her bed this time, it felt like an invitation rather than an intrusion.

“You know I’m a shifter…” She remembered their earlier conversation and the massive black wolf that had shown up on her porch. “...but you don’t know how it all started. You believe in magic?”

She swallowed hard, nodding. "How could I not, especially with everything that happened today?"

“It all started with a pact that changed everything for us.”

Terry’s expression shifted, turning grave. “My grandfather was a maroon—one of them ‘unruly’ slaves who had the guts to run off from his plantation and into these swamps. He was one of the first to break free. Word got around, and more folks joined him; their strength grew by the night. They’d sneak back in the dark, helpin’ anyone brave enough to follow ’em to freedom.” His voice dropped to a steady murmur, thick with resolve. “Among those he led were healers, rootworkers, and conjurers—men and women who were deep-rooted in their traditions, carryin’ the power to shape reality, but always payin’ a hefty price for it.”

An image of Jesse's grandmother flickered through her mind.

“I don’t know everything about the witches—how they do what they do,” he continued, locking eyes with her. “But they can work wonders—things that’ll stop you dead in your tracks.”

She recalled the bright light shooting from Jesse’s hands earlier, and the hairs on her arms stood on end.

“The maroons carved out their own path, livin’ side by side with the native folks in these swamps. But as the number of enslaved people started to drop in this area, the enslavers took notice. They couldn’t afford to lose any more ‘property,’” he growled, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “So they began sendin’ out hunting parties.”

“At first, they didn’t know the lay of the land, so the maroons slipped right through their fingers. But when that didn’t work, they turned to our own people. They dangled promises of freedom, tryin’ to lure ’em outta the swamp with visions of homes with walls and their own land. It was a lie, but it had a way of workin' on folks. People had families to think about, I reckon.”

It was easy to judge when you didn’t know the daily struggles they faced—sneakin’ into town for scraps, navigatin’ a world rigged against ’em, riskin’ everything just to make it through the day. Freedom came with a heavy price.

“They twisted the law, huntin’ us down like we was nothin’ but animals. Meanwhile, white folks kept gettin’ rich off our backs.”

A thick silence hung between them, both lost in thoughts of their ancestors and the unspeakable horrors they’d endured.

Terry shook his head, tryin’ to shake off the weight of the past. “Needless to say, their tactics worked. By the end, nearly everyone was dead. A few ordinary but tough souls, like my grandfather and just a couple of the witches, managed to survive. Out in these very woods, they came up with a plan for payback. Those witches could give ’em the power to rise against their oppressors, but it came at a steep cost—tradin’ their humanity for the ability to transform.”

She could piece together the unspoken parts: The maroons were worn thin, workin’ twice as hard just to get by, while white men wielded their privilege—armed with better weapons, sheltered in comfort, and backed by all who supported the chains of slavery. They had no choice.

She reached out, her fingers skimming over his forearm, a soft touch she knew she probably shouldn’t be makin’. As if pulled by some unseen force, Terry’s hand glided down to rest on her leg, his warmth grounding them both in that delicate moment of connection.

“So they made a pact. Each full moon, the men would be trapped in the shape of a big ol’ wolf, their humanity swallowed by the beast inside. But for the rest of the month, they could shift at will—keepin’ themselves safe and protectin’ whatever was left of their kin.”

“That must’ve been downright terrifying, bein’ trapped outside their own skin,” Adla said, her mind wanderin’ to what she’d do if she had to make a choice like that.

“They weren’t about to go back to no chains or meet death without swingin’ back. That’s how I—how we came to be,” Terry said, layin’ bare the truth of his origin.

“And what about that necklace?” Adla asked, sensing the intricate puzzle was missing some key pieces. Terry’s touch and those piercing eyes were pulling her in, but her instincts remained razor-sharp. Everything he shared had begun to connect in her mind, but there was still more to uncover.

A look crossed his face, like he was digging up a memory of his own.

“That’s a whole other story. But if your daddy had it, he probably stashed away a book with a ledger too. You know where that might be?”

Chapter 6.

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Klaroline Fic: The Wolf IV [3/13]

Summary: Five years after the downfall of the Mikaelson family, Caroline returns to New Orleans to fulfill the promise she made to Marcel: one day, she would be back for the man he has been keeping prisoner in the bowels of the old compound, and she would not be leaving without him. But the plans to abandon the city's eternal loop of tragedy behind once and for all are thwarted when a new enemy with unexpected old ties resurfaces, threatening not just Eve's life, but Caroline's as well. -- S04E03 Where You Left Your Heart ✨ Morning comes as an oppressive affair to Klaus.

After years withering away in an underground hole, watching the sun rise again makes him ill at ease. This infinite stretch of blue over his head, so brutally bright, is an assault on his senses. Makes him feel exposed. Even his lungs protest the crisp and clear air, thick with dew and the smell of lush trees on the cusp of summer.

It’s so… pure.

For five years, Klaus' entire universe was reduced to the barren space of a meager salt circle, surrounded by nothing but darkness. There was no solace in that glorified grave, no respite. Every second he spent there was laden with a crushing sense of despair that devoured what little soul he had left.

All of this vastness, this breathtaking beauty, so rich with its light and vibrancy... It doesn't feel real anymore. The richer and livelier the world around him gets, the harder it becomes to anchor himself in the here and now.

He should be glad it's over, exultant to be out of that awful place. Instead, Klaus feels… Unmoored. Adrift.

No wonder he couldn't shut his eyes for a bloody second all through the night. He has never been much of a sleeper, but he is still weak with the traces of dark magic ravaging his system, a weariness that weighs heavily in his bones. No amount of blood bags seems capable of dispelling the fog of exhaustion strangling his mind. And still, no matter how ardently he wishes for a few hours of blissful unawareness, Klaus cannot sleep.

All of his attempts have been wretched failures. The moment he dares to shut his eyelids, his head splits in half. He gets transported back to that dungeon. Swallowed by darkness. Swamped with misery. Taken with a paralyzing fear that when he opens his eyes again, it will be to find out that this has all been just another hallucination, an elaborate trick of his fractured mind.

What should have the soft and tender contours of a sweet dream is permeated with suspicion and unease, warped into a nightmare.

He resists the mental exhaustion, grinds his teeth against the way sunlight feels like pinpricks on his skin, fights the urge to resort to old habits and withdraw into the house with a bottle of bourbon to numb himself out. It's awful, but the sheer unpleasantness of it comforts him.

Pain he knows. Pain he can endure. His oldest and most honest ally.

It's only everything else he's having a hard time trusting at the moment. Read the full chapter here -- Started writing, had a breakdown, bon appetit. 🫠 Thanks v much to my lovely friend @definedareasofuncertainty for not telling me to fuck off when I kept sending her requests to re-read things she'd already read twice! ❤️ And for being so supportive and making me believe I didn't have to start over from scratch for the third time. 🥲 Also to the very lovely folks who have reached out to me through tumblr or AO3 to talk about this fic during these FIVE MONTHS HIATUS (what the actual fuck, when did five months happen?). You are lovely and amazing and ily! As always, your comments/messages/kudos/reblogs mean the world to me! ❤️ My brain is rotten but I did my best, hope you enjoy it!