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venusbyline · 2 days ago

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Jacaerys Velaryon — Under the Mistletoe

— summary: When you decided to spend the Christmas Break at your best friend Helaena's house, you did not expect her half-sister's family to be there too. Meeting your ex-boyfriend after the messy breakup was something you did not want for the holidays. At least that was what you thought before looking at him again.

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x ex-girlfriend!reader

— type: smut, dark, modern AU

— word count: 2.0k

— tags/warnings: female!reader, dark!Jacaerys, ex-boyfriend!Jacaerys, dubcon, modern AU, Christmas smut, rough sex, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, semi-public sex, kitchen sex, degradation, finger sucking, cum eating, cum licking, dry humping, rough kiss, past infidelity, referenced cheating, argument, possessive behaviour, past relationship, toxic relationship, college students, Targtowers mentioned, Lucerys Velaryon mentioned, Rhaenyra Targaryen mentioned, curse words, ambiguous/open ending, implied Lucerys Velaryon/reader, toxic!Jacaerys, dom!Jacaerys, sub!reader, no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— author's notes: Jace was the most voted in the poll I did asking about this modern AU one-shot for Christmas <3 <3 I hope you guys like it and enjoy the holidays.

— author's notes²: The mention about Lucerys Velaryon/reader is really just a mention. But anyway, he's already 18 years old in this one-shot. Also, I'm considering writing fics about Lucerys. It's hard for me to find fics about him and he's really a character that I love very much. So if you want read these next stories, don't forget to tell me. <3 <3

— crossposting: AO3

When your best friend Helaena invited you to spend Christmas Eve at her house, you thought it might be a good idea. You loved her family, despite everything. Alicent, her widowed mom, always treated you like you were her second daughter. Aemond, Helena's younger brother, was so introverted and quiet that he never ended up causing any problems between the two of you. Daeron, the youngest, was sweet to you and loved telling you about how his high school was going.

The bad thing usually was Aegon, Alicent's firstborn, who always drank before and during the celebration and end up causing some intrigue in the family. However, Helaena had assured you that this time Aegon was traveling to another corner of the world and would not be in England for a few weeks. She said his big brother was enjoying Copacabana beach with his friends in Rio de Janeiro, taking advantage of the fact that summer days had started in Brazil, unlike winter in London, and you would only need to catch a glimpse of him on the college campus when classes start again.

The only problem about that night was the sudden presence of Jacaerys Velaryon during Christmas dinner. Eldest son of Rhaenyra, Helaena's half-sister. Your ex-boyfriend.

"Where are you gonna spend the Christmas Break?" Jacaerys murmured without much enthusiasm while you were alone in the kitchen, finishing baking a pie with lemon cream, cornstarch biscuits and meringue.

You turned to face him across the room, the dark red turtleneck he wore matching perfectly with the black jeans and leather jacket of the same color. And especially with that dark, long wavy hair. You sighed, looking away and focusing on the oven again, despite answering him with another question. "Why you wanna know?"

You hoped that Jacaerys would understand your attempts to divert the topic so you could just ignore his existence, even though you knew he did not give up on anything very often, his little side smile proving your point. "Whoa... Don't be so rude, sweetheart. I'm trying to be polite."

"Well, I don't give a shit about your fake polite manner. I shouldn't even be talking to you more than necessary, actually." You murmured in a low but firm voice, standing up and putting the red gloves back on so you could turn off the oven and remove the pan from inside, the hot steam from the pie floating throughout the kitchen and collaborating along with the heater on the wall to warm up the natural cold of winter.

Jacaerys took a few steps, moving closer so he could look at the dessert as you placed it on the table. Even without saying anything, it was impossible not to notice his curious face, seeming surprised by how the pie looked good. However, he cleared his throat and teased you again.

"Aren't you mad that Helaena didn't tell you that my family was going to spend the holiday at her mom's house?"

His invasive question made you roll your eyes, taking the gloves off your hands and putting them back in place, moving around the kitchen to look for a lemon in the fridge and a grater in one of the cabinet drawers. With the object and the citrus fruit in hand, you returned to the table so you could start scraping the peel, small and thin yellow pieces decorating the top of the dessert now.

"Maybe. I wouldn't have come if she warned me."

Jacaerys lose focus on watching the finishing of the pie after your bluntness words, letting out a giggle. "Goddamnit, pretty girl. Still so freaky mad at me?"

You stopped decorating the candy, your hands clenching around the grater handle. "And that surprise you? That I'm still mad about you kissing that stupid bitch during your college friends' Halloween party?"

Jacaerys hummed at your aggressive sarcasm, the smirk playing on his lips while he leaned on the table next to you. "Not really. But I'm impressed that you admitted something like that to me."

When he leaned his face closer to yours, you let out the breath you had been holding since he placed his large, firm fingers on the marble. The woody fragrance of the Jacaerys' fancy cologne made you sigh slightly, your mind filling with memories when you felt that smell very often, especially lying on the bed with him.

You struggled to put the grater and the rest of the lemon on the table and Jacaerys took advantage of the fact that you had not moved away. You could have done it. You should have done that. You had promised to yourself that you would not fall for another Jacaerys Velaryon's stupid apology again. Not after what he did. Not after he kissed another girl at the same party you were at, just to piss you off over a silly argument.

"Stop overthinking, sweetheart. You're so gorgeous when you just understand that you belong to me." Jace teased, using the height difference to his own advantage, his tall body practically covering yours as he moved behind you, his face in your neck and smelling the perfume. "Fuck, pretty girl... You have no idea how much I missed you and your body."

You did not even say anything when he reached up to the medium-sized velvet red dress you were wearing, pushing the fabric with an almost irritating calm and moving his hand to the waistband of your pantyhose. As soon as he lowered it enough and ran his fingers through the lace of your panties, you finally let out a sigh. "We shouldn't be doing this, Jace."

Jace did not bother to answer at first, kissing the back of your neck and playing with your folds covered by your panties, eliciting a few weak whimpers from you until you repeated. "Jace, I said we shouldn't be doing this."

The boy snorted, the small warm gust of air near your face causing you to shiver, his large hand going to your chin and pulling it without much affection to his side, your eyes meeting now. "What shouldn't we be doing, sweetheart? Finally fucking a few months after our stupid breakup or fucking in the kitchen of Alicent Hightower's house, while my family and your best friend's are in the other rooms, almost no one knowing that their beloved guest is nothing more than a needy and dramatic cockslut?”

Your eyes widened at the accusation, knowing full well what he was talking about. "I-I'm not... I'm not dramatic. How can you say something like that? How can you think I'm the wrong one even after you cheated on me?" You exclaimed a little louder, and Jace rolled his eyes, the fingers that was holding your chin now covering your mouth, not worrying about whether or not it would stain your lip gloss. "If you hadn't pissed me off that night, so I wouldn't have cheated on you." You growled under his hand when he whispered in your ear, wanting to push him far away from your body, although his hand inside the lace that covered your pussy made any shred of sanity disappear from your mind.

“J-Jace, don’t…” You whimpered muffled and almost impossible to hear, your ass pressing against his crotch as you squirmed. "They'll hear us..."

"No one will hear us if you keep your pretty mouth quiet, sweetheart. But maybe some of them would like to hear or see you like this. I bet on my little brother Lucerys, the freshman has a secret crush on you. That's why he's always watching you in the college hallways." Jacaerys mocked, nibbling on your earlobe, the tip of his index and middle finger playing with your clit, going down to collect some of your dripping juices and moving his hand up to caress your bud again. "You're so fucking wet. Have you been like this since I came into Hel's house?"

You trembled at the teasing, your hands imitating what he had done before, gripping the edge of the table to keep your body steady without falling to the floor. Jace's fingers gradually increased the pressure and you moaned, trying your best to open your eyes, seeing the mischievous gleam in his brown eyes and the smile widening while he slid the same two fingers in and pushed them inside you without any difficulty. The tearful and loud moan that would echo through the kitchen was interrupted by Jace's mouth on yours, desperate and hungry lips kissing you without worrying about how messy the kiss was being.

Jacaerys was not someone who disliked wet and aggressive kisses, in fact he was totally into it. You knew about that since you dated him months before, so it was not a big surprise when his arousal began to grow inside his jeans, your ass rubbing against him to tease him just like he was doing to you.

"You fucking whore. Are you trying to make me cum in my pants?" Your skin crawled at the sound of his growling whisper.

Jacaerys bit your lip while you were still panting, only letting out soft whimpers when he increased the speed of his fingers and took the opportunity to rub his soft palm over your sensitive clit, making you see stars and moan his name one more time, mentally thanking the universe for Jacaerys loving being DJ at the university parties and know how to use his pretty hands very well.

At least there was something good about always hooking up with Jacaerys Velaryon.

Without taking out of you, Jacaerys pulled you towards the other door in the kitchen with his free arm, the one that led to the hallway stairs. For a moment, you looked at him in silence, confused but thinking he would take you upstairs and fuck you in the guest room. However, the boy let out a nasal scoff and pointed to the green and red mistletoe decorated at the top of the doorframe. Your furrowed seeing the Christmas ornament above your heads, but you did not have time to question anything, not when Jace fucked his fingers in and out of you.

The wet noises of your pussy being used by him was as lascivious as the sound of his tongue searching for yours again, tasting your mouth as if it were the best candy in the world. The moment you distanced yourself so you could lift your head and shake through the overwhelming orgasm that possessed your body, that was when you understood.

Jace kissed you under a mistletoe. And not just that... he also fingering your pussy and made you cum right there.

Taking a deep breath to calm your body and your mind about what happened, you opened your eyes, watching Jace licking one of his fingers creamy with your release. He smirked to you, a sticky noise echoing when his full lips stopped enjoying your juices. He did not care about your look of disgust and carefully slipped his other finger into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself as he placed soft kisses on your forehead. A false affection that you both knew would not make up for all the hell and toxicity that had been your situationship.

"You came hard around my fingers and under the mistletoe too."

"I noticed…" Your voice came out more breathless and grumpy than expected and Jace chuckled, caressing your soft cheek.

"You'll spend the next few days of the Christmas Break here at Helaena's house, together with me. Then you'll be my good girlfriend again when we get back to campus." It was not a question but an order, your eyes immediately widening, not knowing how you were going to explain that whole damn turn of events. Not knowing how you were going to explain to your best friend that you were giving in to Jacaerys as you had promised never to do again.

Running the tips of his fingers still dirty with your cum across the pie's meringue, he gave you one last kiss for now. "Happy Christmas Eve, my pretty girl."

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man-i-love-fanfiction · 3 days ago

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To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter Three: Chrysanthemums - Joy

Summary: You and Andrew meet outside of your workplace for the first time for a completely platonic coffee on him.

Word count: 2385

Author's note: i am so sorry that this took so long 😭 last week of school combined with finals combined with life i guess hindered me from writing. but i'm back on track!!! hopefully you all enjoy and if i don't update again soon happy holidays <3

tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @padfootblackswh0r3 (if you want to be added just let me know!)

fic below the cut <3

This is not a date.

That was your affirmation all of Friday morning, repeating it to yourself.

You muttered it under your breath as you fixed your hair. It was mumbled as you laid out your outfit, specifically chosen to be fashionable but casual: your favorite sweater and a nice pair of jeans. You whispered it before spraying your perfume, a scent you had to dig through your closet for five minutes to find. Ironically, the scent was nothing close to floral. You said it to each of your houseplants as you watered them. They remained unconvinced.

Slipped on your shoes. Locked up your flat. Walked down the stairs. You repeated your mantra every time, because maybe if you said it enough times, it would become true.

By the time you made it to your car, you had said it so many times it felt like breathing. Your hands gripped the wheel. You locked eyes with your reflection in the rearview mirror and whispered your phrase of the morning one more time for good luck.

This. Is. Not. A. Date.

Stepping down on the gas pedal, you began to drive.

On the drive there, you prepared yourself for all possible scenarios. This kind of thinking came naturally — it always did, especially in situations like these. You ran through what your reaction would be if he showed up, what it would be if he didn't. What you would do if he had an insanely complex coffee order, or if he ordered a drink with six shots of espresso. What if he tried to order for you, or if he made some backhanded comment about another woman at the cafe? You doubted he would do any of these things, but you believed it's better to be safe than sorry. This thinking only paused when you parked in front the coffee shop and caught a glimpse of Andrew waiting inside. All of your previous repetition and fretting had made you ten minutes late, a fact you weren't fond of and hoped Andrew wouldn't chastise you for.

The moment you stepped into the coffee shop, all of your previous affirmations were thrown out the window. It wasn't a date. But after seeing Andrew you wished that it was.

It wasn't any particular factor. It wasn't the black denim jacket he was wearing, or the way he'd tied half his hair up, leaving the other half down. It wasn't even the smile on his face, reserved like he wasn't sure how to react properly when he saw you. It was a combination of everything; his presence alone was enough to make you flustered. So flustered that you were very close to forgetting to say anything when you walked up to him. Thankfully, at the last moment, you actually spoke.

“Hey! Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long,” you greeted him with a small smile.

“Oh, no. I just got here, too. You're alright.”

You walked inside together, and you looked around at your new surroundings. It was a small business, quaint and cozy, with framed photos of artworks by local artists; it was exactly what you would imagine a coffee shop that Andrew picked to be.

Because all of your overthinking (or what you preferred to call planning) on the way there, you ordered your coffee with ease. Andrew recited his order, a black americano, a surprise to you. You watched as he paid and gave his name for the order, the barista already recognizing him. He turned his head towards you and offered an explanation:“I’m a regular. I always come here whenever I need a pick-me-up.”

“I’ll have to come here more often, then,” you replied.

You found a small table in the corner and sat down to claim it for the both of you while Andrew stood by the counter, waiting for your coffee. What a gentleman.

You had yet to notice any flaws in him, only making your self-imposed rule of this not being romantic harder to follow. There had to be something about him that was off. There was no way he was so caring and endearing and funny all at the same time; he had to have an imperfection eventually. You didn't find it in the few minutes you watched him stand around, occasionally fiddling with his hands or putting them in his pockets. Your efforts grew even more futile as he walked over with the coffees in hand, setting them down on the table.

He shedded his jacket and carefully placed it on the back of the chair before sitting down in the chair opposite you. This simple action caused the fact that you barely knew Andrew to pop up in your head. Despite how connected to him you felt already, you had only met him twice before. On both occasions he wore long sleeves, so seeing him without a jacket for the first time gave you a much appreciated surprise.

His right arm had an entire sleeve of tattoos.

He had turned his arm into a mural for myths and legends. A portrait of a falling Icarus, wings disintegrating beneath a red sun. A tortured Atlas carrying the weight of the world on his back. Dante and Virgil arm in arm wandering through a circle of hell. Writing in script filled the empty space, seemingly verses from poems. It was all centered around two words placed across his bicep: Noli Timere. You’d be lying if you said it didn't make you even more attracted to him than you already were.

You could've spent hours just looking, analyzing every line of ink. It felt as though you did, though it's much more likely it was only for a few seconds. You were brought back to Earth by the sound of his voice.

“It's rude to stare, y’know?”

There was no real annoyance in his voice, but it caused you to attention like you had been caught. An explanation mumbled its way out of your mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I just- I like your arm. Tattoos. Your arm tattoos. They're…”

Beautiful? Enticing? Very attractive?

“…cool.”

You took a sip of your coffee, finding it the perfect time to cover up your embarrassment, as well as the flushed face that came along with it. Luckily, Andrew didn't notice (or if he did, he didn't mind) and continued the conversation, accepting your compliment with a crooked smile.

“Thanks. I try to put a lot of thought into them, give them some meaning, so they're all based on these stories that are important to me.”

“Makes sense. I’d hate to get a tattoo just to regret it a few years later. Even worse, a few months later.”

“Too many of my clients have had that exact issue. Come in a year after and ask for a coverup. Makes me question my work sometimes.”

“Clients?” You asked with a tilt of your head.

“Oh, right. I never mentioned it.” He paused to take a drink from his cup before continuing. “I’m a tattoo artist. The parlor I work at’s only a few blocks away from your shop, believe it or not.”

“Wow. Small world, I suppose. Maybe I could stop by someday and say hi.”

The boldness of your statement didn't fully process in your brain, and you quickly backtracked.

“If you’d be okay with that, of course.”

“Yes. Absolutely. You can come by whenever I don't have a client.”

“Call me over if anyone gets a tattoo of a flower and I’ll be there to explain everything it means. There is always the very dangerous possibility of someone getting a flower that means jealousy or a rejection.”

He didn’t reply, just flashed a smile, and the silence between you seemed… awkward. Combined with the way he was fidgeting with his hands, it almost made you think he was nervous.

“I’m actually thinking about buying a bouquet to put on the front desk,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Yeah. A lot of people, they get nervous before their appointment, whether it's their first tattoo or their tenth. Having flowers right when you walk in might ease some of the tension.”

“That's a great idea. I know I’m biased, but flowers do tend to brighten my day."

“Do you have any ideas?”

You bit at your bottom lip as you thought, finally speaking again once you racked your brain for what could work.

“Chrysanthemums are a favorite with customers. Those mean joy and optimism. I could start with those and build from there.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“That's all I’ve got right now, but I’ll see what else I can come up with later. After coffee, I’m much more… insightful.”

As if to prove your point, you took another sip of your coffee, a longer one that left only a quarter of the cup left.

“So… this is official? You're placing an order?”

He nodded.

“If that's how this works, then yes. I’d like to place an order of one chrysanthemum bouquet for the purpose of making my customers happy. Please,” he replied genuinely.

“Your order will be marked down as soon as I get to the shop.”

“Feel free to take your time, by the way. I don't mean to pressure you. It's not like I have a deadline, and I know you probably have a million other things you have to do.”

You considered reaching for him, your fingertips flexing in his direction, but you restrained yourself, choosing words instead.

“You're not pressuring me at all. You made your order. Now you're asking me to do my job. My job that I love, by the way. If anything, I’m thrilled that you're so interested.”

The real question is whether you're more interested in my job or me.

You weren't bold enough to say what you were thinking, but you never had been. You had gotten so used to biting your tongue it was a miracle it was still in your mouth. You spoke again, but selected a much safer option of what to say.

“It's gonna take a few days since there's some orders before yours, but I have your number on file so I’ll call you when I finish it up.”

“I’ll be there. With my wallet, this time around.”

You thought about your proposition before realizing there would be a much more effective, though maybe you just wanted to visit Andrew’s job for a change.

“I mean, you said your place is only a few minutes away, right? I could always deliver it. Gives me an opportunity to get some fresh air during my day. Besides, you're probably much busier than I am, so it might be harder to find the time. Meanwhile, I can deliver it as soon as it's done, and everything works out.”

“You don't have to do that.”

“I know. I want to, though.”

He sighed and shook his head, a reaction you originally feared was out of annoyance, but you felt a small amount of relief when you noticed the smile that accompanied it.

“You need to stop doing nice things for me. Otherwise I’ll go bankrupt from buying you so much coffee to compensate.”

“I also accept gratitude payment in compliments, thank-you-cards, and checks.”

“What about credit cards?”

“Ooo, sorry. Compliments, thank-you-cards, and checks are your options.”

He chuckled, a deeper and richer laugh than before.

“Fine. You want a compliment? You're incredibly kind for doing all of this for me, and I sincerely appreciate it. Thank you.”

Another sip from your cup to hide the flush of your cheeks, though no amount of caffeine could calm the butterflies in your stomach.

“That covers your gratitude payment for now. I still need real money, of course,” you muttered. “And you're not getting your way out of it this time.”

“I would never. You can't pull the same con on the same person twice.”

“Oh, so it was a con? Did those flowers even go to your mother?”

“Nope. Underground flower smuggling ring.”

“Ah, I should've guessed. Tell your flower-loving crime boss that I’m thankful for all that you've done for me, but I unfortunately need to get going, because it's 9:30 and the shop opens at 10.”

Andrew complied. You two wrapped it up, and he put his jacket back on, covering up his tattoos much to your dismay. Your coffee cup, now empty, was discarded by the door.

“Thank you so much. For the coffee, for the company. Everything. Especially for the coffee, though, considering you barely even drank yours,” you commented, pointing at the half-full cup still in his hand.

“You’re welcome. And trust me, I was going to drink it, but I found myself much more engrossed in the conversation.”

Andrew grabbed the door and held it open for you, and you walked past him and thanked him. Both of you stood on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, unsure of how (or if you even wanted) to say goodbye.

“This is where we must part ways,” he said with a sigh.

“You say that like we're never going to see each other again.”

“A lot can happen in a few days, Y/N. You have no idea what the universe has up her sleeve.”

“Do you have some kind of knowledge about an apocalypse that I don't? Because when it comes to that kind of stuff, sharing is caring.”

“Just… prepping for the future, I suppose. If there is no apocalypse, I’ll see you when my bouquet’s finished.”

“I’ll see you then. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

You walked to your car, only a few footsteps away, the smile slowly fading from your face as he walked in the opposite direction. You sneaked a glance over your shoulder at him before opening the car door.

Sitting down in the driver's seat, you took a deep breath to bring yourself back to reality. Your mantra had been proven right: that was not a date. It just felt like one. A very successful one at that. He was a gentleman, listened to what you had to say, gave you a compliment, and you even set up an incentive to meet again. This not-a-date went better than most of your actual dates, and it was with a guy who, to your knowledge, had no romantic interest in you.

You were totally and utterly screwed.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier fanfic #fanfic #hozier fanfiction #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #divider #to share the space with simple living things

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littlefankingdom · 2 days ago

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I hate when people make out Bruce in their posts and fanfics as needing Alfred for anything.

"Bruce cannot cook because he always had Alfred."

"Bruce has never do his own laundry because he always had Alfred."

"Bruce never cleaned anything because he has Alfred."

Oh my goddesses, shut the fuck up. Can y'all stop treating Bruce like he is some random rich white guy and not Bruce??? HE RAN AWAY TO GO TRAIN AROUND THE WORLD. Do you really think the multiple masters he had would have cooked for him and do his laundry??? He probably was left alone with nothing but the clothes on his back to test his survival skills. He knows how to cook in the middle of nowhere, he wouldn't be alive if he didn't.

And even if we forget all of that, he was raised by Alfred Pennyworth. Y'all really think Alfred babied Bruce? He was his guardian, not just his butler. A normal rich kid with LIVING parents and a butler probably wouldn't know how to clean after themself, but Bruce? Bruce who got in so many fights as a kid? Bruce who was full of anger and pain? You think Alfred never made him clean the whole east ballroom because he didn't like the tone Bruce used to talk to him? I don't think so. I don't think the butler that has to take care of a whole ass manor hasn't made his rebellious ward clean some of it as punishment. Bruce probably has done chores in the manor way more often than Dick or any of his kids, because they are disciplined by Bruce, their father, not Alfred.

And that's not even talking about all the time in the comics where Bruce doesn't have Alfred, because he is on mission, or kept away, or Alfred left, and he takes care of himself. It happens in Knightfall, it happens in Gotham Knights, and neither of these time do Bruce get another employee, he takes care of himself on his own. ALFRED IS DEAD IN CANON SINCE 2019, Bruce takes care of himself. Also, he canonically has ocd and is known for being controlling, this man 100% needs his stuff cleaned in a certain way.

Unless it's something like "he can cook but he can fucked up because...", I don't wanna hear it. He doesn't need to be a Michelin chef, but he knows how to made basic food. He knows how to clean after himself. The reason he doesn't help more is because Alfred can be as controlling as Bruce about how things need to be.

And I'm sure some comics go against what I said here, but these are wrong and I will physically fight the writers.

#batfam #bruce wayne #batman #alfred pennyworth #dc comics #my ramblings #this post is sponsored by a screenshot of a tumblr post I saw on pinterest #Bruce probably cleans half the batcave himself because he needs it to be a certain way #for me Bruce can cook if his mind doesn’t go to something else like a case #also he forgets to eat because he works too much which is canon

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violenteconomics · 21 hours ago

Note

(decided to split the reactions up into parts.)

for riddle rosehearts, it starts like this:

it’s a little strange how studious deuce has been lately. not that deuce doesn’t normally put his all into his studies, but now, whenever deuce isn’t at school or completing his dorm chores, he’s locked up in his room, nose deep in a textbook with pages upon pages of class notes scattered all around him. it’s gotten to the point where riddle regularly has to send deuce’s roommates to fetch food for him so he doesn’t starve himself.

and instead of the usual focus and determination riddle is so used to seeing on him, deuce looks more… stressed than anything else. like studying is some kind of obligation rather than something he actually wants to do. and from someone who has always been so earnest in his attempts, riddle won’t deny that it’s a little… sad. jarring. scary, even.

cater blames it on late-semester burnout. trey points out that the freshmen have been getting heavier workloads from the teachers lately. they both tell him that it’s best to just wait for deuce to get over this slump of his. he’d deuce spade after all, and no matter how hard life knocks him down, he always gets back up.

riddle’s not convinced.

(he, more than anybody, knows what a caged child looks like. and he, more than anybody, knows how impossible that cage is to break out of.)

but riddle doesn’t decide to take any direct action until he spots deuce sitting in the lounge, reading through an alchemy book.

deciding to finally bring some closure to this gnawing, familiar feeling in his chest, riddle walks up to deuce and asks what he wished he would’ve asked a lot more when he had the chance: “are you alright?”

deuce looks up at him, startled, like he hadn’t even noticed that riddle was in the room, despite the loud clicks of riddle’s housewarden heels against the tile floor.

“deuce, are you alright?” he asks again.

deuce stares at him like a deer caught in headlights, pupils dilated, eyebrows slanted, and hands clutching his book so hard the pages crinkle. he looks pained, like he desperately wants to say something, but is trying to keep it back with all of his might.

“housewarden rosehearts, i—”

he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth.

closes his eyes.

opens them back up again after a moment.

and smiles.

“everything’s fine, housewarden.” he says, in a voice that’s so, so oversweet. “don’t worry about me.”

(somewhere, in the back of riddle’s mind, he hears cater’s voice saying: “that’s soooooo #filtered!”)

"are you... sure?" riddle asks, trying not to sound as terrified as he feels.

"yeah." deuce says without missing a beat. "i'm sure."

riddle purses his lips and sits next to him. hesitantly, he puts a hand on deuce's shoulder. "you know you can tell me anything... right?"

"yeah." he repeats. "i know."

"so why does it feel like you're not telling me the truth?"

"i am."

"okay, now that was just pathetic."

deuce goes silent, staring down at his book.

then, he says, "housewarden, do you think i'm a good heartslabyul student?"

riddle rears back in surprise. "um... what?"

"do you think i'm good at listening to orders and stuff?" he elaborates, fiddling with the corner of the page.

riddle blinks. "i... would say so. you're much better than ace, anyway."

"that's all i ever wanted to be." he replies. "a good student."

then, deuce cracks a bit, a coating of pain being slathered over his features.

"so why does it hurt so much?" he asks, voice cracking.

riddle leans forward, trying to look at deuce's expression, while a haunted one crosses his own as deuce's words poke a tender part of his chest. "deuce...?"

"i'm sorry." he mumbles. "i shouldn't have said that. just— forget i said anything."

riddle shakes his head in disbelief. "deuce, i can't just let that go—!"

"please." deuce pleads, raising his hand up to wipe away at tears that aren't there. "i don't want to cause any problems. i've done enough of that. things are going well, i don't want to rock the boat. i just— just forget about it, okay?"

and there's something in deuce's expression — something that reminds riddle of when he was younger, constantly staring at his reflection in his bedroom window because that was the only company he had — that makes riddle go silent.

I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;

A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both

Second thing

More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏

anything 4 u, baby.

(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)

(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)

it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.

ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.

it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.

it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).

there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.

it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.

...but then, something shifts.

at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.

the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.

so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)

but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.

his own jade and floyd.

his own red-and-black collar.

using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.

and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.

he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.

deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.

and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.

you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.

they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.

jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.

(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)

with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.

it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.

if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.

(and jack can't face that yet.)

and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.

epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?

sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.

one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."

it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.

and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.

but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.

when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.

he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.

he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.

he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.

he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.

but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.

ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.

but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.

and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.

ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.

he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.

his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.

ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.

eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.

ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.

...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.

if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.

it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.

(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)

as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.

epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.

every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.

at least, that's what yuu tells epel.

and it's perfect.

so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.

("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")

every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.

("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")

epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.

but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.

epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!

epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.

now if only rook could stop looking so somber...

then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.

there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.

and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.

with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.

but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.

so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.

if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.

but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.

so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?

but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.

one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.

inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.

yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.

"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."

(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)

(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)

(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)

#anything 4 u baby #twisted wonderland #twst #twst first years #deuce spade #riddle rosehearts #generational trauma

132 notes · View notes

blakeswritingimagines · 1 day ago

Text

Party Of Three

Summary: Knowing your boyfriend to take Hockey seriously wasn't new to you until he brings in the winning enemy.

Warnings: Threesome, Top Nico, Top Kirby and Bottom Reader, PnV, No protection, Cumming in reader, Reader being used a sexual bet, Slight marking, Slight nipple play and clit action.

Word Count: 4.8k

After a grueling game, the New Jersey Devils finally emerged victorious against the Montreal Canadians. The locker room erupted with cheers and high-fives as the players celebrated their hard-fought win. Among the players were center Kirby Dach, who had a particularly impressive game regardless of the loss, as the locker room began to quiet down and leave, Nico approached Kirby with a wicked smile. "Hey, Dach," Nico said slyly. "Recall that little idea for a bet we had?"

Kirby chuckled, "Yeah, I do remember that. I believe it's time to collect, my friend." Nico smirked, "Indeed, it is. Let's go find your cute little partner." The two players headed out of the locker room in search of you. As Kirby and Nico walked into the press area, they spotted you leaning against a wall, scrolling through your phone. Kirby approached you with a sly smile, "Hey, babe." You looked up and smiled at Kirby, "Hey, you did great today, even if you seem fine for losing." He chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, "Actually, I have something to tell you." You raised an eyebrow, "Oh yeah, what is it?" Kirby glanced at Nico before turning back to you, "Well, you see we made a little bet before the game." You looked slightly confused, "A bet? What kind of bet?"

Nico chimed in, "It was about the game. If the Devils won, we had a little something special arranged." You looked at the two men quizzically, "Special? What do you mean?" Kirby's smile widened, "Well, it involves you, babe." You looked even more confused, "Me? What do I have to do with your bet?" You raised an eyebrow, your expression turning curious. "Centerpiece, huh? Sounds like you've got some sort of wager going on here. Alright, let's hear it. What's the deal? And what does it have to do with me?" Your voice is calm but there's a hint of amusement, intrigued to see where this unexpected development leads from the two males around you. Kirby smirked, "Well, the wager was that if his team won, Nico here gets a special evening with us." Your eyes widened in surprise, "Whoa, hold on a minute. What do you mean 'special evening'?" Nico chuckled, "Oh, you know, just a little fun between friends." Kirby chimed in, "Don't worry babe, we wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable with." You thought for a moment, weighing the idea in your mind. "So, let me get this straight. If the Devils won, you two get a night with me? As in both of you?" They both nodded, grins on their faces. You bit your lip, considering the proposition. "And what about you, Kirby? You're okay with this too?" Kirby nodded, his hand still wrapped around your shoulder, "Absolutely. It was my idea, after all. But if you're not comfortable with it, we can forget the whole thing."

You chewed on your lower lip, a mixture of anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins. You knew Kirby wouldn't do anything to make you genuinely uncomfortable, and the fact that he initiated this bet meant it was something he had thought about. After a moment, you took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm in. As long as we have clear boundaries." Nico's grin widened, his eyes glinting with a mix of excitement and amusement. "Excellent," he said, a mischievous note in his voice. Kirby leaned down and kissed your cheek, his breath tickling your ear. "You won't regret it, babe. I promise you'll enjoy it too." They had just arrived at Nico's apartment. Kirby was kissing your neck and Nico was behind you, his lips against your ears. Nico murmured, "Are you ready for this? Are you sure?" You took a moment to consider before nodding, biting your lower lip. You felt a mixture of anticipation and excitement. Nico's hands began to lightly trail over your waist, and Kirby's kisses grew deeper and more passionate. Meanwhile, Nico's hands moved forward, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, his warm palms brushing against your skin. Your breath hitched at his touch, your heart beating faster. Kirby continued kissing your neck, his lips leaving little sparks of pleasure trailing down your skin. As Nico's hands move further up, you let out a little gasp, feeling the weight of anticipation building. Nico's fingers danced along your ribcage as he slowly lifted your shirt upward. His touch was electric, sending shivers through your body. "You're so beautiful," he breathed against your ear before nipping playfully at the lobe. Kirby pulled back from your neck, his blue eyes dark with desire as they met yours. A mischievous grin spread across his face. "What do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable, hmm?" He linked his fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Behind you, Nico pressed closer, his chest firm against your back as his hands smoothed over your newly exposed midriff. The heat of their bodies enveloped you, promising pleasures yet to come. "Right this way," Nico rumbled, his deep voice vibrating through you as he pulled you both to his bedroom.

As you enter the dimly lit bedroom, the door closes softly behind you three. The large bed dominates the space, covered in soft sheets that beckon invitingly. Nico's strong hands continue their sensual exploration of your body as he guides you backwards towards the bed. His lips find the sensitive spot below your ear, placing open-mouthed kisses there that make your knees weak. Kirby steps in front of you, his tall frame blocking your view momentarily. His hands cup your face tenderly as he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It starts slow but quickly builds in intensity, his tongue delving into your mouth to dance with yours. One hand slides into your hair, gripping gently while the other traces down your side to your hip. As the heated kiss with Kirby intensifies, you feel yourself being guided backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. Nico's strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, holding you steady as he continues his sensual assault on your neck and shoulders with lips and teeth. Kirby breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy as he gazes at you with lust-filled eyes. "I want to worship every inch of you," he murmurs huskily before starting to unbutton your bra with deft fingers. Each small movement reveals more of your skin to their hungry gazes. Nico's hands slide around to your stomach, thumbs rubbing circles on your hipbones as he presses himself flush against your back. You can feel the evidence of his arousal through his jeans. "So gorgeous," he growls appreciatively, nipping at your earlobe. As your bra falls away, exposing your breasts to their heated gazes, both men inhale sharply in appreciation. Kirby's calloused hands immediately cup the soft mounds, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks. He leans down, taking one nipple into his hot mouth and suckling gently. At the same time, Nico's hands skim up your sides to cover Kirby's, encouraging him as he lavishes attention on your sensitive flesh. His own lips blaze a trail of fire down your neck to your shoulder, where he bites down lightly, marking you as his. The dual sensations of Kirby's mouth and Nico's hands send jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You arch into their touches, head falling back against Nico's shoulder as soft mewls of enjoyment escape your parted lips.

Lost in a haze of sensation, your body arches and writhes between them, craving more of their skilled touches. Kirby switches to your other breast, alternating between long licks and gentle nips to the sensitive peak. His hands knead the soft flesh, thumbs circling your nipples teasingly. Nico takes advantage of your tilted head to attack your neck with fervor - open-mouthed kisses, sharp nips, and sucking marks decorate your skin. One hand slides up to tangle in your hair, tugging lightly, while the other maps the curves of your waist and hips possessively. "I love how responsive you are," Nico purrs in your ear, his deep voice rough with desire. "The sounds you make… driving me crazy." Overcome with need, your hands reach out to grasp at their shirts, tugging impatiently. "Please…" you whimper, not even fully aware of what you're begging for, only knowing that you need more. More of their touches, more of the delicious friction, more of everything. Kirby releases your breast with a final kittenish lick, grinning up at you wickedly. In one swift motion, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your pants and panties, yanking them down your legs. Cool air hits your heated skin, making you shiver. Nico helps guide you to sit on the edge of the bed, his hands never stopping their sensual exploration of your body. He kneels behind you, strong hands massaging your thighs as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "We've got you, baby," Nico's hands glide higher up your thighs, pushing them apart gently as Kirby settles between them. His eyes flick up to meet yours, dark with promise and barely restrained hunger. "Gonna make you feel so good," he rasps before leaning in, hot breath ghosting over your most intimate area. Nico's arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his muscular chest. His lips find your pulse point, sucking hard enough to leave a vivid mark. "That's it, just relax and enjoy," he coaxes lowly in your ear, one hand splayed possessively over your stomach. Kirby doesn't hesitate, diving in to run his tongue along your slit in one long, slow stroke. He groans at your taste, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you.

Your back arches off Nico as Kirby's skilled tongue works its magic, waves of intense pleasure crashing over you. Nico holds you steady, his strong arms a comforting anchor as your world narrows to the exquisite sensations Kirby is evoking. "Oh god, yes!" you cry out, fisting your hands in the sheets. Kirby grins against you, the wet heat of his mouth never ceasing its relentless assault. He focuses on your clit, circling and flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue before suckling it gently. Two thick fingers push inside your dripping channel, curling to stroke that perfect spot within. Nico's hands roam your body, tweaking a nipple as he peppers your neck and shoulders with biting kisses. "Such a good girl, taking us so well." Kirby redoubles his efforts, determined to bring you to the heights of ecstasy. His fingers pump steadily in and out of your tight heat, curling to hit that special spot inside with each thrust. His tongue swirls around your clit, occasionally dipping down to lap at your juices. The obscene wet sounds of his ministrations fill the room, mingling with your increasingly desperate moans. Nico pinches and rolls your nipples between his fingers, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. "That's it baby, let go," he urges huskily, feeling you tremble and writhe against him. "Come undone for us." He nips at your earlobe, soothing the sting with his tongue. Your body tenses, muscles drawing taut as the coil of tension in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter. Kirby's relentless stimulation pushes you closer and closer to the edge, your inner walls fluttering around his pistoning fingers. "I'm… I'm gonna…" you gasp out, words dissolving into a wordless keen as your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your vision whites out, back bowing almost painfully as rapture consumes you. Wave after wave of pure bliss radiates out from your core, leaving you shaking and boneless in Nico and Kirby's hold. Through the haze of your orgasm, you distantly register Kirby lapping at your spasming sex, gentling you through the aftershocks. Nico's strong arms wrap around you, cradling you close as he praises you softly. "That's our girl."

As the last tremors of your intense orgasm fade, Kirby slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to clean them of your essence with a satisfied hum. He crawls up your body, pressing tender kisses to your quivering stomach, the valley between your breasts, before capturing your lips in a deep, filthy kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, the flavor intimate and erotic. Breaking away, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes dark with satisfaction and renewed hunger. "You're stunning when you come undone like that," he murmurs, voice rough with desire. Behind you, Nico's hands continue their soothing caresses, one sliding up to cup your face and angle your head to the side as he spoke up. "As the winner of the night… my turn." A thrill runs through you at Nico's declaration, your spent body already stirring with renewed interest. Kirby gives you one last searing kiss before moving aside, allowing Nico to take his place between your spread thighs. The hockey player looms over you, his tall frame dwarfing your smaller one. His eyes, usually so warm and playful, now burn with an intense, predatory light as they rake over your naked form appreciatively. Slowly, deliberately, he starts to remove his own clothes, revealing inches of toned muscle and smooth skin. Your gaze is drawn to the prominent bulge tenting his boxer briefs, a testament to his arousal. Once fully bared to your view, he grips your hips, easily lifting you further onto the bed.

Nico settles himself between your thighs, the hard length of him nestled against your still-sensitive folds. He rocks his hips slowly, coating himself in your slick arousal. One large hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lower lip. "I want to see those pretty eyes on me while I make love to you," he rumbles, voice low and thick with desire. With that, he begins to push forward, the broad head of his cock breaching your entrance. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size as he stretches you deliciously. Then, with a roll of his hips, he sheathes himself fully inside your welcoming heat in one smooth thrust. A guttural groan tears from his throat at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut briefly. Your eyes lock with Nico's, pupils blown wide with lust and adoration as he fills you completely. The stretch is exquisite, bordering on too much yet somehow perfect. You feel so full, so complete with him buried deep inside you. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the firm globes of his ass as if to pull him impossibly deeper. "Nico," you breathe out, his name a reverent prayer on your lips. Your inner walls flutter and clench around his thickness, savoring the delicious drag of his hardness against your sensitive nerves. Leaning up, you capture his lips in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as you pour every ounce of passion into the embrace. Your nails rake down his back, leaving faint red lines in their wake as you urge him on silently. Nico matches the fervor of your kiss, plundering your mouth with his tongue as he sets a deep, powerful rhythm. Each thrust rocks your entire body, hitting that perfect spot inside you with unerring accuracy. His large hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you steady as he takes you with increasing intensity. The obscene slap of skin on skin and your escalating moans fill the room, punctuated by Nico's harsh pants and grunts of pleasure. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down your jaw and throat, pausing to suck a vivid hickey into the delicate skin where your neck meets your shoulder. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he growls against your flesh, voice strained with the effort of holding back his release. "So tight, so perfect around my cock."

Lost in a haze of overwhelming sensation, you can only moan brokenly as Nico pounds into you with wild abandon. Each powerful thrust sends sparks of ecstasy shooting up your spine, stoking the fire building low in your belly once more. Your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his back, leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake as you cling to him desperately. "Harder," you manage to gasp out between keening cries, your voice high and thready with need. "Please Nico, I need… I need…" What you need exactly eludes you, lost in the maelstrom of pleasure consuming you. All you know is that you crave more - more friction, more force, more of this man who is so perfectly wrecking you. Nico snarls in response to your plea, doubling his efforts. His hips snap forward with brutal force, driving into you so deeply it borders on painful. But the sharp edge of discomfort only heightens your pleasure, pushing you closer to the precipice. "Like that, baby?" he grits out, sweat beading on his brow from the exertion. "Gonna fuck this sweet little pussy so hard, ruin you for anyone else." One hand slides between your bodies to find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. The dual stimulation proves too much, your inner walls starting to flutter and clench erratically around his pistoning cock. "That's it, come on my cock," Nico demands hoarsely, angling his hips to grind against that special spot inside you with each thrust. Your world narrows down to the exquisite sensations radiating from where your bodies are joined, the feeling of Nico's thick length stretching you open and filling you so completely. The added stimulation of his fingers on your clit sends you hurtling towards your peak at breakneck speed. "Yes, yes, oh god yes!" you wail, back arching sharply off the bed as your second climax crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your sex clenches down rhythmically around Nico, rippling along his shaft as you come undone beneath him. Distantly, you hear him roar your name, feeling his cock pulse and twitch inside you as he finds his own release. Thick ropes of his hot seed paint your inner walls as he empties himself deep within your spasming channel.

As the final spurts of his release coat your insides, Nico collapses against you, careful not to crush you with his larger frame. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily as aftershocks course through his body. His softening cock slips free of your tender flesh with a gush of combined fluids. After a long moment, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, eyes dark but filled with satisfaction and tenderness. "Incredible," he murmurs, voice raspy from exertion. "You're amazing, you know that?" Gently, he brushes a few damp strands of hair from your face before leaning in to capture your lips in a slow, deep kiss. It's a stark contrast to the frenzied passion of moments before, this tender exploration before Kirby started pushing him away. You return the kiss with equal gentleness, savoring the slide of Nico's lips against yours. There's a sense of intimacy, of connection, that goes beyond just physical pleasure. When he finally pulls back, you offer him a tired but contented smile. "You're not so bad yourself," you tease softly, running your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair affectionately. Your body feels deliciously used, muscles loose and sated. As the post-coital bliss starts to fade, a flicker of uncertainty crosses your mind. This was incredible, earth-shattering even, but what happens now? Will things be awkward between you three? Before you can dwell on it too much, you feel movement behind you and Kirby's arms wrap around your waist possessively. He nuzzles into your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your racing pulse.

Nico notices the sudden shift in atmosphere, the way Kirby's touch seems to claim you anew. He senses the change in dynamics, the invisible boundaries re-establishing themselves after the intimate encounter they just shared. Though he'd grown attached to you, Nico recognizes that his role here is temporary, a fleeting dalliance. He offers you a reassuring smile, letting you know everything is alright between them despite appearances. "Hey, don't worry about us," he says quietly, reaching out to squeeze your thigh in a gesture of solidarity. "Kirby and I have our thing, and you two… well, you're perfect together." His expression turns wistful for a moment before he schools his features back to neutral. "I should probably get going," Nico adds, beginning to collect his clothes from the floor. "But thanks for tonight. That was something special." As Kirby's lips continue their exploration of your neck and shoulder, you let out a soft moan, overwhelmed by sensations of the aftermath. After a moment, you find your voice, managing to gasp out, "I want both of you… at the same time, though." Nico freezes mid-motion, his eyes widening in surprise at your bold declaration. For a beat, he simply stares at you, processing the weight of those words. Then, a slow grin spreads across his face, and he lets out a low chuckle. "Well, when you put it like that…" He trails off, shaking his head in amusement. Turning to Kirby, Nico raises an eyebrow in challenge. "Care to join me in giving her exactly what she wants, partner?" The air practically crackles with tension as the two men exchange a heated look, the unspoken promise of rough, primal sex hanging heavy between them. They move as one, shedding the rest of their clothing with urgent haste. Nico's cock springs free, already half-hard again, while Kirby's is fully erect and leaking precum.

Your heart races at the sight of the two men, their impressive erections standing at attention. A thrill of excitement courses through you, mingled with a hint of trepidation. You've never done anything like this before, but the thought of being taken by both of them, simultaneously, is almost too enticing to resist. "Yes," you breathe, spreading your legs invitingly. "I want to feel you both inside me." Nico steps forward, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock as he lines up with your entrance. "Hold her steady, Kirby," he instructs, his voice low and husky with desire. With a smooth, powerful thrust, he sinks into you, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out at the intense fullness, your body still sensitive from earlier. As soon as Nico fills you, Kirby moves to position himself behind you. He grips your hips firmly, angling you to accommodate his own throbbing erection. With a swift, decisive motion, he pushes forward, sheathing himself in your stretched, slick heat. The double penetration is almost overwhelming, your body struggling to adjust to the dual invasion. You're acutely aware of every inch of both cocks buried deep within you, the sensation bordering on pain but rapidly morphing into pleasure. "Fuck, she's so tight," Nico groans, his hands bracing on your thighs as he begins to withdraw slowly before slamming back in. Kirby sets a similar pace, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to pound into you in earnest. The room fills with the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and your high-pitched moans of ecstasy.

The dual stimulation is unlike anything you've ever experienced, the twin pressures of their cocks stretching and filling you in ways you didn't think possible. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your nerve endings, your entire body quivering with the intensity. "Oh god, yes! Just like that!" you chant, lost in the haze of sensation. Your hands reach back to grasp at Kirby's ass, urging him deeper, harder. At the same time, you lace your fingers with Nico's, using the leverage to meet his fierce, pounding rhythm. The combination of their relentless pace and the way your bodies seem to move in perfect sync has you teetering on the brink of another explosive climax. "I'm gonna… I'm gonna cum again!" you warn breathlessly, your inner walls starting to convulse around the invading cocks. Both men redouble their efforts at your warning, determined to push you over the edge. Nico leans down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting and sucking the sensitive bud as he drives into you with wild abandon. Behind you, Kirby matches his intensity, one hand snaking around to rub tight circles on your clit. "That's it, baby, let go," he growls in your ear, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force. "Cum for us, show us how good we make you feel." Their filthy words and the relentless assault on your senses prove too much. With a silent scream, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clamps down hard on their pistoning cocks, rippling and squeezing as you gush around them.

Your intense orgasm triggers their own releases. With a hoarse shout, Nico hilts himself deep and pulses as he spills his hot seed directly into your spasming channel. At the same time, Kirby grunts and grinds against your ass, painting your inner walls with his own thick ropes of cum. The feeling of being filled so completely, marked so thoroughly by both men, prolongs your peak until you're trembling and gasping for air. As the last waves of pleasure recede, you collapse forward onto the bed, utterly spent and satisfied. Nico carefully eases out of you first, followed by Kirby, both men groaning at the loss. In the aftermath, the three of you lay tangled together, limbs entwined and bodies glistening with sweat. Nico is the first to stir, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at you with a mixture of tenderness and satisfaction. "That was incredible," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You were amazing." Behind you, Kirby hums in agreement, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade. "Absolutely stunning," he rumbles, his arms tightening around your waist possessively. Despite the intimacy of the moment, there's a subtle shift in the atmosphere - a reminder that this arrangement, while pleasurable, is still unconventional. Nico clears his throat, sitting up fully. "Listen, I should probably take off for real this time," he says, glancing between you and Kirby.

A flicker of disappointment crosses your face at Nico's words, but you quickly school your features into a more neutral expression. Nodding in understanding, you sit up as well, untangling yourself from both men's embrace. "Of course, I understand," you say softly, reaching out to squeeze Nico's hand in gratitude and affection. "Thank you for tonight. It really was special." Kirby shifts beside you, his arm draping over your shoulders in a clear display of his own claim. "We had fun," he agrees, his tone casual even as his thumb traces idle patterns on your bare skin. "Maybe we can do this again sometime, yeah? When the mood strikes." There's no pressure in his suggestion, just a gentle invitation leaving the door open for future encounters without commitment. Nico returns your squeeze, a warm smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "The pleasure was all mine," he assures you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in a repeat performance." He winks playfully before standing up and beginning to gather his scattered clothes. As he dresses, he glances back at you and Kirby, taking in the intimate picture you make. "Take care of yourself," he says softly, genuine fondness coloring his voice. "And don't be a stranger, yeah?" With a final nod to you both, Nico slips out of the bedroom, leaving you alone with Kirby once more. The atmosphere shifts subtly, the easy camaraderie of the threesome giving way to something more charged and personal between just the two of you.

Once the door closes behind Nico, you turn to face Kirby fully, suddenly feeling shy despite everything that just transpired. "So," you start, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "that was certainly an experience." Kirby chuckles, the sound rich and warm as he pulls you closer against his side. "It was pretty incredible," he agrees, his hand coming up to cup your cheek gently. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, the touch feather-light yet electric. "You know, I meant what I said about doing this again sometime. No pressure, of course, but I enjoy spending time with you. Like this and otherwise." His eyes search yours, a question lurking in their depths along with undisguised attraction and affection. "I love you." Your heart skips a beat at Kirby's tender declaration, a soft blush rising to your cheeks. Emotion wells up inside you, warm and sweet and slightly terrifying in its intensity. "I love you too," you whisper, leaning into his touch. "More than I ever thought possible." Impulsively, you close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss. It's different from the heated kisses of passion from earlier - this one is softer, more meaningful. It speaks of connection, of belonging, of a bond that goes beyond physical pleasure. When you finally part, you rest your forehead against his, smiling tremulously.

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier smut #kirby dach #kirby dach x reader #kirby dach smut #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl smut

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fallen-w1ngs · 20 hours ago

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'' BROKEN TO FIXED ,,

|| pairings: hawks x gn!reader / keigo takami x gn!reader

|| warnings: getting broken up with (not by hawks), not specified gender for ex, no use of y/n

|| this is very self indulgent since i js went thru a break up 😭 hawks my one true love LMAO

|| word count: 0.9k

|| You and Keigo had been friends for a few years, ever since he debuted in fact! You'd gotten in contact with him after your friend from highschool, Miruko, or well Rumi, invited you to some hero party. And there he was! You two hit it off pretty easily, becoming close friends in the process, much to Rumi's dismay. (She loves when her friends get along! Just don't forget about her lol!)

|| After that party, you both stayed in contact. Everyday, you'd visit his agency with small treats or take our food for lunch! Some for his sidekicks too! Everyone absolutely loved you. And that didn't exclude Keigo.

|| Keigo never said anything, honestly he was scared. You were one of his only friends who wasn't a hero or wasn't using him. He didn't wanna ruin it! So he kept his feelings hidden. Despite his confident, playboy persona, he was in all honesty a nervous wreck, especially around you. You never really paid any mind to it, it was pretty amusing afterall.

|| Things... Changed after you got a partner though. They were pretty nice, honestly they seemed open to be friends with your friends as well! But Keigo on the other hand... He always made excuses on why he couldn't hangout if you mentioned your partner would come along, or he'd ditch last minute with the excuse of hero stuff. You didn't really mind, he was a hero for crying out loud!.. But you missed him.

|| Whatever, if he didn't wanna be friends, it's fine..! You and your partner stayed together around a year and a half. You thought, this is the person who'll stay with me! Despite some ups and downs, and... Having to defend them against your friends, it'd work out!

|| But you were wrong. Even after all the ups and downs you both experienced.. They left. Saying that they still loved you, but they weren't in love with you. That they still cared, but it wasn't the same. You swore it was working. Maybe you were just being dumb again.

|| You first tried to call up Rumi, she was one of your closest friends afterall, but she was busy, probably on a mission or on late night patrol. So, after much hesitation, you called up Keigo. God, you felt like you were making a mistake. After so many times of saying "They're a good person!" or "I love them, really" it felt embarrassing to call Keigo. But.. He picked up.

|| "Birdie! Heyo, how's it going?" Keigo chirped out as he picked up the phone. He had just been watching some movie on his tv, due to not having to work, for once. His carefree attitude soon enough dropped the second he heard sniffles on the other hand. You explained what happened, that they broke up with you, and that you just.. Needed someone to listen. He stayed silent for a few moments, you thought he hung up.

|| Knock knock. What the? You look over to your balcony window and it's Keigo, hair a mess, a bag of presumably ice cream and food in it, and he was still in his sweatpants and messy looking shirt he probably fell asleep in. You quickly rushed over to the balcony window and opened it up. Your cheeks flushed and stained with tears, eyes puffy and hair a mess. It looked like you were the one who flew around the city.

|| "Keigo?" The second you said his name he embraced you, wrapping his arms and wings around you in a safe caccoon. Rubbing small patterns on your back as you sobbed into his shirt. God, this was embarrassing. But it's exactly what you needed. You and Keigo stayed in that position for what felt like an eternity, you sobbing into his shirt, rambling on about who knows what as Keigo rubbed your back in silent comfort.

|| After a while, you found yourself on your couch, a bowl of ice cream in hand as a blanket overed you with an extra layer of Keigo's wing over your shoulder. It was nice. You rambled about how shitty you felt, how you felt like your life just ended, how you're going to miss your partner as Keigo sat there, listening. At one point you asked if he had anything to say, and for once he didn't. He just wanted to be there to help you.

|| He pushed his feelings for you aside in order to comfort you. Honestly, he felt guilty for not being around when you were with your partner, but dwelling on the past wouldn't change anything. What mattered was you and to help you move on.

|| The days after your break up was.. Rough to say the least. You'd be to groggy to even get out of bed, you used up more than half of your sick days to stay out of work, and Keigo, surprisingly, was there for most of it. Of course, he had to be a hero, obviously he was the number two hero. But everytime he had even a five minute break he called you up and made sure you were okay.

|| He'd bring small gifts and snacks to help cheer you up, sometimes some of it was from Rumi as well! It was sweet and helped you off your feet. His support meant everything to you.

|| Now, Keigo wouldn't tell you about his crush on you just yet, obviously that'd be a.. Pretty bad move on his part. Avoid you a bunch for the past year then move in on you after a bad break up? Terrible idea. So for now, he'd settle for being your best friend. Unaware that you were slowly developing feelings for him as well.

did i make this js cz i got broken up with like one or two weeks ago? yeah. but SHUTTUP!! hawks my pookie.... my one true love........

also early merry christmas to whoever celebrates, i might be making a small dabble of diff mha characters spending christmas with you (platonic or not) idk! SMILES!

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justplainwhump · 1 day ago

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Laundry Room

At Rosa's first Christmas at her owners' house, she and Blanca are alone together.

A prequel to Pet Safety.

Content : BBU, implied conditioning, nudity, self-harm (due to conditioning), burns. Caretaking. Falling in love. F/f romance. Kissing.

Rosa's Sir and Madam spend Christmas with Madam's family in their beach house. Pets aren't allowed, Madam has said with a frown directed at Blanca. Since "the incident". The term makes Blanca's neck stiffen, Madam's jaw clench, and Sir roll his eyes. And Rosa? She doesn't know. Is not included in the dynamics that work under the surface.

It makes sense in a way, that the Romantic has intimate knowledge that the Domestic doesn't, Rosa tells herself. Blanca is special. Rosa isn't.

Rosa knows how to cook all the meals her owners like, how to set the table, clean the glasses, arrange the clothes, make the beds. She's a good pet. That's all she needs. All she ever wanted. All that a pet is meant to be.

So good, that it even confused her, when Master Cory took one of the containers of food carefully prepared by Rosa in days and nights of work out of the trunk and sneaked it back to Blanca. "For the holiday. Don't forget me, beautiful. Merry Christmas," he'd whispered into her hair, and Blanca had smiled at him so wide that the aberrant feelings hit Rosa right in the gut.

Nobody had spared a glance at her.

It's an aberrant feeling, being left out. Domestics don't feel lonely, they don't feel sad, they don't feel jealous, they don't feel sorry. They don't have friends. They function. That's all they do.

And Rosa affirms herself that she does. She's a good and functioning Domestic.

As such, she's walked down into the basement right after her owners have left, pulling the doors close behind her. She doesn't need to see Blanca smile as she waves past the car. There's a place for Blanca, and there's a place for Rosa, and they do not overlap.

Rosa is still ironing clothes in the utility room a while later, when Blanca strolls in. There's an easy sway to Blanca's hips, an elegance to her movements that seems unfitting for an environment like the packed, practical laundry room that smells like labor and detergent.

She's still naked, like Madam insists for her to be in the house, but even though Rosa understands it's meant to be a reminder of her lowly position, Blanca seems more regal than anyone else Rosa had ever seen.

She swallows. She isn't supposed to think that. She isn't supposed to look at Blanca's body, at her soft skin, at the beautiful curves of her hips and breasts - or at least she isn't meant to see it as anything else than a surface that is meant to be kept clean, just as are all her owners' other possessions.

Rosa focuses on the sheet in front of her, scanning it's pristine white for any creases to distract herself from any aberrant thoughts.

"You shouldn't be here," she says briskly.

Undeterred, Blanca leans in over the laundry hamper, her body a perfect curve, as she fishes for one of Master Cory's worn shirts. Rosa fixates her gaze on her own hand around the iron.

From the corner of her eyes, she sees Blanca bury her face in the shirt, take in their owner's smell.

"Why?" Blanca asks.

Rosa blinks. "Why what?"

"Why aren't I supposed to be here?"

"You're not a Domestic."

"True. I'm a Romantic. I'm supposed to be with my Master." She slips into the shirt, wraps it closely around her and shakes her hair free over the collar. "He's not here. He doesn't want me with him. So where am I supposed to be now?" There's a sadness clinging to her voice that almost stings in Rosa's heart. It doesn't. It mustn't. She has to keep things in order.

"Madam doesn't want you dressed in the house."

Blanca shrugs and pulls herself up to sit on the washing machine, crosses her long, smooth legs. Rosa feels dizzy. "And Sir likes it when I wear his clothes."

"Sir left," Rosa says, sharper than intended. Blanca shouldn't be here. They shouldn't be talking. It makes Rosa slower, less focused. It makes her a bad pet.

"So did Madam. It's just us." Blanca shrugs, leans forward, pauses, as if waiting for Rosa to meet her gaze.

Unwillingly, Rosa puts the iron down and does.

Blanca's eyes are grey. Sometimes the grey is light and shimmering, chrome and steel. Today, they're dark. Like a storm, Rosa thinks. A storm that carries away anything in its path.

"So the question should be: How would you like me, Rosa?"

On my face. The thought shoots through her, bright and short and sharp and cruel, like a lightning bolt.

Pain follows instantly. Punishment. A scream. Hers? Blanca's? Both?

The world turns black.

When she comes to, she's laying on the ground, bedded on crumpled laundry. Everything is cold. Her entire left sidethrobs with heavy pain, radiating from her forearm. Blanca's fingers run over it, slick with some sort of paste, carefully coating bright red blisters shaped like an iron, surrounding spots of white and black. Rosa's stomach lurches.

Bad pet, she thinks. Bad pets deserve punishment.

"Please," she whispers. "I'm bad."

"I cooled the wound for fifteen minutes," Blanca says. "You were unconscious. I called Sir. He says you'll be fine."

"Bad," Rosa whispers. "I was bad. I was... Madam will -"

"Sir won't tell her."

"Sir won't-" Rosa stares at Blanca. Her grey eyes are narrow in concentration, as she gently rubs in the salve. Spears of pain drill into Rosa's body. She doesn't flinch. "Why?"

"I begged him." Blanca's lips twist. "He likes that. I made him come over the phone."

"But I was -"

"I told him it was an accident. That I don't want Madam to hurt you for it." She smiles down at Rosa. "That if it needs to be, he can hurt me instead. It's okay. He's not cruel."

Rosa swallows. Master Cory is cruel. But they both know what Blanca meant. Madam is more cruel. So much more. "I deserve it." Rosa shivers. "I was a bad pet."

"I lied to Sir. It wasn't an accident." Blanca reaches for the bright orange first aid kit next to her. Her hair tingles on Rosa's skin. "You burned yourself. Why?"

Rosa clenches her jaw, refusing to answer the question. Focus on the pain. Not on the flutter in her stomach. "You can't lie to Sir."

"I can." Blanca smirks, as she places a bandage over the burn and begins to wrap in in place with gauze. "I love him. I belong to him. I'm made for him. But I lie to him all the time."

Rosa winces the tiniest bit, when Blanca knots the ends of the bandage. "Pets can't -"

"I tell him that I like his wife. That I like his friends. I tell him that every fuck is great, even the quick ones on the backseat of his car. I tell him that I don't mind pain." She bites her lip. "I tell him that he's the only one I could ever love."

"But..." Rosa's throat is dry. "That's... not a lie, right? Pets can't -"

Blanca leans in. She's not fidgeting for the first aid kit this time, Rosa realizes. She's leaning over Rosa, one leg nestled between hers. The white shirt is falling open from her shoulders, her beautiful breasts in front of Rosa, her hair on Rosa's neck, her breath hot on her skin.

"I can," Blanca whispers. "And I think you can, too."

Rosa's lips part, as her good hand reaches up into Blanca's hair.

Bad pet, a soft voice echoes somewhere in her mind. But then her fingers curl up in Blanca's soft hair and all voices and all pain are swept away by the storm that erupts when Blanca's lips meet hers.

#bbu #bbu whump #bbu romantic #rosa #Bea #whump writing #pet whump #comfort

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