#but this is still a nightmare to pull off

[ariestrxsh]

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 content warning: smut, innocence corruption, masturbation, public fingering, praise, sneaking around, mentions of sex and virginity loss, small age gap (both characters are adults), pervy!brothersbsf!matt, innocent!reader

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 author's note: sooo i wasn't planning on making a part two for this fic, but you guys asked, and now there will be multiple parts. you can read part one here.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 summary: your brother's childhood best friend, matt sturniolo, takes your virginity, and the two of you begin sneaking around in plain sight.

young god part two

Matt woke up in a cold sweat, his chest covered in a thick layer of perspiration, laying on the floor next to your brother's bed in his dark room. He had heard your brother's voice so clearly in his dream that he was sure it was real while it was happening.

He had taken your virginity earlier in the night, and his conscience was already nagging at him in the form of vivid nightmares that the interaction had ended in your brother walking in on the two of you.

In reality, he was thankfully a heavy sleeper, and it was a running joke in the family that he could sleep through a car accident, and he actually had once. It was a minor fender bender, but still. So even as Matt woke up in a panic, gasping for air, your brother was snoring loudly, the same way he was when Matt had snuck back into the room after he'd cleaned you up.

It's not that Matt regretted having sex with you. In fact, he was already plotting how he could get you alone again. But he knew he was playing a dangerous game. Your brother was bigger than he was, stronger than he was, and he'd seen him beat the shit out of people for less. Matt really believed him when he told him he'd kill him if he had sex with you.

But how could he have walked away from you after finding you like that, pleasuring yourself and moaning his name? He really thought it would have been more cruel to have left you all alone to your own devices when he knew that what you really wanted was between his legs, and he knew he could make you feel better than any toy could.

He started pawing at himself through the soft fabric of his underwear while he replayed the encounter in his head. He recalled the way he had stumbled upon you with your vibrator, softly moaning his name from one room over. He remembered how vulnerable and fuckable you'd looked.

His curious hand wandered into his waistband, and he wrapped his fingers around his thick shaft, fervently tugging at his cock while he recounted the shocked expression on your pretty face while he'd breached your entrance. He couldn't stop thinking about all the lovely sounds you'd made while he'd deflowered you, stretching you out for the very first time.

He started pumping faster, his mind flooded with images of you, getting closer and closer to the finale. He remembered how you'd clenched around him while he played with you and the way your breasts had jiggled while he had pounded into your sweet little cunt.

You were no longer pure and virginal, and it was all thanks to him. He had tainted your innocence with his dark desires.

He threw his head back and shut his eyes as a few strangled moans filled the room. His stomach dropped, and his muscles tightened as he finished himself off, milking his throbbing cock for all of its worth. He came all over his hand while he pictured your hole dripping with his seed after he'd filled you up.

He remembered the way you had softly begged him, "Please, don't tell my brother," while peering up at him with your big eyes, your lip caught between your teeth as his cum was still dribbling out of you. "I wouldn't dream of it," he had panted in response before leaning down and pulling you into a deep kiss.

A satisfied smile formed on Matt's face as he slowly brought his strokes to a halt, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. He couldn't wait until the next time he got to have his way with you.

Finally, Matt was able to drift off again and sneak in a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep before the sun began to rise.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴

The next morning, you woke up smiling and satisfied from what Matt had done to you the previous night. You galavanted into the long hallway, tiptoeing past your brother's door. You floated down the staircase, running your hand along the smooth banister like you did every morning on your way to the kitchen.

"Morning Boots!" You greeted the family dog, ruffling his fur, and he wagged his tail in response. You let him out the back door to do his morning business.

You were humming to yourself, rifling through the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs when Matt appeared out of the corner of your eye at the bottom of the steps. "Shit," you muttered as you lost your grip on the carton of eggs, sending the last six in the container crashing to the floor about your feet.

"Sorry, sweet thing. I didn't mean to startle you," Matt chuckled, watching you forget how your motor skills worked just because he was in your presence. "Hi, Matt," you timidly greeted him.

For a moment, you glanced up at him and then back down at the shattered eggs beneath you as you remembered the vulnerable position he'd seen you in the night before. You knelt down on the ground and started scooping up the broken shells.

"I make you nervous, don't I?" Matt smirked, slowly walking towards you. You innocently looked up at him with a flushed expression and your big, doe eyes. You didn't have to respond for him to know he was right. "Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look on your knees?" Matt cooed quietly, bending down and softly brushing his thumb against your smooth, pink cheek.

You felt your stomach drop as Matt looked into your eyes, caressing your face and saying all the right things to you. "You were such a good girl for me last night," Matt whispered, smiling deviously and running the pad of his thumb along your plump bottom lip.

Suddenly, you heard heavy foot steps descending the stairs, and Matt quickly pulled his hand away as your brother materialized at the bottom of the staircase. Matt started to help you pick up the broken egg shells, but you couldn't will away the pink shade your face took on after Matt had spoken so sweetly to you.

"That's okay. I'll just have cereal for breakfast," your brother rolled his eyes, approaching the pantry after witnessing the mess. "It's my fault," Matt said, winking at you as he stood up, disposing of the eggs shells and rinsing off his hand. You avoided eye contact with them both, cleaning the rest of the egg off the tile.

You appreciated that Matt took the attention off you by taking the blame. You were paranoid that if your brother looked at you for too long that he could see it written on your face that you weren't a virgin anymore.

"You know, why don't we all go out for breakfast?" Matt suggested, smirking over at you once he picked up the nearly empty carton of milk out of the fridge.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴

You, Matt, and your brother found yourselves at a nearby local diner with a bit of a 50's vibe to it - classic checkerboard floor, a vintage jukebox, and vinyl pink booths. I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingo's played quietly through the speakers as a woman in bright red lipstick and a poodle skirt greeted the three of you and led you towards your table in the back of the empty restaurant.

Both you and your brother sat down across from each other, and Matt made the bold move of taking a seat next to you, earning a curious look from your brother that Matt quickly brushed off.

The waitress poured fresh, hot coffee into each of your ceramic mugs and set off in another direction to give you all a few minutes with your menus.

You decided on French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Matt got the biscuits and gravy combo, and your brother got steak and eggs. Shortly after ordering, the server came back around to top off everyone's coffee.

"So what do you guys like the most about being away at college?" You asked Matt and your brother as you stirred a couple sugars and cream into your mug. "Definitely the fact that our overprotective mother isn't always asking where I'm going," your brother chuckled, taking a sip of coffee.

"How about you, Matt? What do you like the most about college?" You asked, batting your lashes at him. "Probably how loud I can fuck now that I don't live at home with my parents," Matt said, smirking over at you.

"Wow. How inspirational. Maybe tone done the sex talk in front of my little sister, huh?" Your brother snorted, dipping his fingers into his water and flicking it at Matt. Matt did the same in return. You blushed and giggled at their rapport.

"What have you guys missed the most about being home?" You wondered, glancing between the two boys. "I missed Boots the most. We can't keep pets in our dorm rooms," your brother stated, excited to be around the family dog again.

You turned your attention towards the boy to your left to hear his response. "I missed you the most," Matt said in a seductive voice, staring into your eyes, nudging you in the knee with his, and secretly placing his hand on your thigh. You smiled and blushed at him.

"Did you miss me as much as I missed you?" He cooed, gently drawing circles with his fingers just inches from your heat. You bit your lip and nodded. "Hey, Matt. Could you stop hitting on my little sister in front of me?" Your brother asked nonchalantly. "No. Look at how much she likes it," Matt sneered at him, and your brother kicked him under the table.

It was a small price to pay in order to watch how embarrassed and flustered you'd get around him.

It was around this time that the waitress returned with your steaming hot breakfast. The smell of maple syrup and bacon wafted through the air, and you each thanked her as she placed your plates in front of you all. There were a few moments of silence while everyone dug into their meals.

You felt Matt's hand that was resting on the inside of your thigh as he started hiking up your sparkly pink dress and inching towards your pussy. Your eyes widened, and you slowly looked over towards Matt as he casually pulled your panties to the side.

He shot a subtle smirk in your direction as he slipped a finger between your folds, gently stroking up and down and just barely grazing your clit. You bit down on your lip to suppress a whimper. With one hand between your legs and the other gripping his fork, he nodded at your brother while he recounted his least favorite teacher his first semester of his freshman year of college.

"Hopefully, you don't get him next year, sis. Basically had to teach myself trigonometry because he refused to dumb down the information. Pretentious bastard," your brother mumbled under his breath. "Yeah, and he was a real hard-ass for no reason," Matt added, gesturing with his fork while he rubbed your sensitive button underneath the table.

"Just because you never showed up to class doesn't mean every single one of your teachers is a hard-ass, Matt," your brother snarked at him. Matt chuckled at your brother's comment while he inserted a finger into your drooling hole as you were taking a sip of your coffee.

You inhaled sharply, sputtering on your hot drink and nearly spitting it out onto the table. "You good?" Your brother asked you, and you nodded while you placed your mug back down with a trembling hand. "Lay off the coffee. You're shaking," he pointed out before cutting into his steak.

Matt slowly thrust his finger into you while you tried to remain as composed as possible. You loved the feeling of him moving in and out of you while your brother was across from you, unaware of what the two of you were up to on the other side of the booth.

Thankfully, after a few more minutes, your brother excused himself to use the bathroom, and he walked away without paying any mind to what Matt's fingers were doing under the table.

The second he disappeared around the corner, Matt grabbed ahold of your leg and rested it on his knee to open you up further. He spread your lips and stared down at your wet, juicy cunt. "Such a pretty pink pussy you have," Matt admired, hungrily wetting his lips.

He lined two of his fingers up with your entrance and started fucking you hard and fast with them under the table. "If the waitress or your brother start coming this way, be a good girl and let me know. I don't think this will take very long, though," he whispered, seductively smiling at you.

A few strangled moans escaped your lips as you gripped the edge of the table. "Good girl. You're so wet," Matt softly commented as his digits slipped in and out of you with ease. You could feel your stomach dropping, your core tightening, and your whole body quivering as Matt brought you to the quickest climax you'd had in your life.

There was something about the risky factor and the publicity of it all that sent you plummeting over the edge while Matt passionately finger-fucked you.

"That's it. Cum all over my fingers. Come on, sweet thing. I know you can do it," he urged you. His praise sent a current of pleasure through you while you started rhythmically clenching around his digits, your hips bucking as he finished you off.

"Good girl," he lustfully commended you as your jaw fell open and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He pumped in and out, slowing down his pace as your orgasm concluded. A wave of tranquility washed over you, and Matt gave you a mischevious smile as he pulled his fingers from your slick hole that were covered in shiny layer of your juices.

"Mmm," he hummed as he stuck them in his mouth and licked them clean, cherishing your flavor. "I can't get enough of you," he whispered as you pulled your legs shut again, smoothing out your dress, and going back to eating your food as your brother came into view from around the corner on his way back from the bathroom.

You almost couldn't believe you'd let Matt do that to you in such a high-risk situation, but you fucking loved the rush you got from it, and Matt could tell due to how quickly you came.

When your brother returned to the table, you could feel how flushed your face must have looked as your brother's eyes traveled between you and his best friend. Matt couldn't hide the guilty smirk from his face, but he tried to cover it with his hand as he propped his elbow up on the table.

He got a sort of sick satisfaction out of sneaking around with his best friend's little sister right in front of his face. The only problem was that he was too smug and arrogant for his own good, and his God complex would quickly have him falling from good graces if he wasn't careful.

"You guys are acting weird today," he commented, narrowing his gaze. "If one of you did something to my food while I was gone, you're both dead," he laughed, skeptically looking at you and the boy beside you.

"Nah, nothing like that. Don't worry about it," Matt replied in a conceited tone. "If you're playing some kind of prank on me, I'm gonna figure it out, Sturniolo," your brother responded, laughing and pointing at him with his fork.

You sat uncomfortably in your soaking wet panties, silently finishing your coffee, unable to look at either one of them. Your heart was still beating quickly, and you were still trying to subtly call your breath back to you. Luckily, the subject changed, and the boys started talking about something unrelated.

You couldn't bring yourself to add to the conversation, so you listened quietly while you picked at your french toast and eggs, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible.

You couldn't keep your eyes off Matt the whole ride home, studying his profile and swooning every time he turned around to wink at you or lick his lips while he peered between your legs. Every silent exchange between the two of you felt like a little secret that only the two of you were privy to.

You liked concealing the sexual nature of your relationship with Matt. As far as everyone else around you knew, he was just your brother's best friend. However, behind closed doors (and under the table in empty diners), he was the manifestation of your fantasies, the embodiment of your wildest wet dream, and the boy who had popped your cherry.

All you could think about was the next time you'd get to be alone with him. Behind his hauntingly beautiful blue eyes, he was wondering the same about you, daydreaming about the next time he could fill you with his cock.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 to be continued...

taglist: @thepubeburgler @realqueenofpepsi @mattsredgaphoodie @purpledreamertyphoon @moosegirl96 @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova

[big-sis-milly]

You cautiously step into your big sister's room, lit only by the flash of her computer's monitor. The sound of whatever game she's playing muffled through her headphones. You can tell she's losing, she gets still when she's mad.

"What do you want."

Her voice is louder than you thought it would be. You swallow the weird feeling in your chest and tell her that you had a nightmare, and you can't sleep anymore.

"So? I already know you're a pussy and I don't care, just crawl into mom 'n dad's bed or whatever." She hasn't looked away from the screen.

You try to defend yourself, but you aren't entirely sure why you don't want to go to your parents room. It doesn't matter that you're just being stubborn at this point, you're not budging. Your big sister seems to be weighing her own laziness to your stupid little kid determination. You can see her scowling at her monitor.

"Fucking..." She mumbles under her breath. You heard it, but you're not gonna tell, this time. "Fine. I just gotta finish this game, get in the bed."

Gratified, you hop onto your sister's bed. It smells so much like her, you bite your tongue to barely catch the content little moan you were just about to make. You surround yourself in her scent, wordlessly watching the game for a while.

You're already nodding off by the time she's done, too tired to even look up at her. She sighs when you hear her turn in her seat to look at you. You feel yourself being moved as she scoops you up under your arms, pulling your small body into herself. You felt like a toy, both of you silently sharing and adding to the other's warmth, the veneer of annoyance and cold shoulders discarded for just this moment, if only to feel warm tonight, to feel close with someone, to sleep.

You realized that you loved your sister, that you really loved your sister right there and then. As you drift off to sleep, you find yourself hoping to god that she loves you back.

[revelboo]

I NEED MORE OF THE SEEKERS TRINE PLEASE AAAAAAAAAAA IT'S SO GOOD GOSH I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAAAAA 🛐💞💞💞

Thanks! How about Seekers x Reader full alternate take?

True Romance

Trine x Reader

• Wings shearing through branches as he drops dangerously low, he can feel his damaged wing screaming at him. He’s losing altitude, paralleling the roads, turbines screaming as he hears those two Autobots dogging him. Knows Thundercracker and Skywarp are headed his way, but not knowing how far out they still are. There’s a car up ahead and he passes by so low his belly scrapes and that’s it. That little wobble and he’s transforming, knees gouging up asphalt as he claws at the ground to stop his slide and he’s barely aware of the car running off the road into the tree line, because there’s the Autobots, weapons drawn on him.

• Groaning, you struggle with the seatbelt, and almost fall out of the car when you get the door open. Your head is pounding, a confused terror spinning you tight, because a jet had almost landed on your car. Shaking fingers reaching up to touch your head where it smacked against the steering wheel and come away wet as you manage to stagger up onto the road and just freeze. Brain refusing to deal with what you’re seeing, because you definitely have a concussion. There’s not three giant, robot monsters in a stand off. Staggering when you try to crane your neck you almost fall in front of the biggest one. The one with jet wings.

• Reacting, he snags the little human as it falls and holds it between him and the Autobots, shielding his spark with it. He can feel its little hands scrabbling at his servos, a pained noise escaping it as it struggles against his grip. But his little impromptu shield works. The Autobots freeze, unwilling to risk a human life, just like he’d hoped. And there, the familiar sound of turbines. Now it’s the Autobots transforming and fleeing as Skywarp and Thundercracker land and attack and his tension drains away. Using a servo to tip the little human’s face toward him, he vents softly. You might just come in handy, a little pet shield. Even if you hadn’t meant to, you’d saved him. For that and that alone, you’ll live.

• “Is that a human?” Thundercracker asks, reaching out as Starscream huffs and hands it over. It’s so small and warm in his servos, trying to curl into a terrified ball as he traces the curve of its spine. Terrified eyes stare up at him, a wound on its head sluggishly bleeding. Hurt and needing him. “Can we keep it?”

• There’s three of them, all similar enough aside from coloration. The black and purple one leaning in to try and grab you from the blue one whose wings lift with a low rumbling sound like a growl that rattles through you. You’re having a hard time focusing on what they’re saying, your head pounding and you just want to sleep, because this will be over when you wake. It’s all just a nightmare. It has to be.

• “We’re keeping it?” Skywarp vents in annoyance when Thundercracker tries to keep the human from him. Like he thinks he’s going to break it just by looking. “Why?” It’s tiny, pathetic and soft. Weak.

• “Because it’s mine,” Starscream says in exasperation, lifting a shoulder experimentally and hissing as his damaged wing pulls. Then Skywarp is there, sliding his arm around him. While he can’t reliably warp to new places, he can unerringly warp home at least. And Starscream reaches for their other brother, gripping Thundercracker’s arm as they warp home with one their new pet.

[softfem-dom]

xmen2000!logan with telepath teen!reader headcanons

✰ okay so, think back to Logan on his first days at the School.

✰ he acted like a surly cat that refuses to accept affection. Side-eyeing everything and everyone, not listening to anyone, scoffing and scowling, rolling his eyes, and being a massive dick.

✰ (he was just pissed because he had to stay in a damn school out of all places until those freaks that wore superhero suits deemed it 'safe enough' for him to go back home).

✰ so he just limits himself to walk around the hallways with a scowl and a cigar between his lips, bringing the heavy smoke of cigar with him everywhere he went.

✰ and, oh, cue you turning the corner a little quickly and bumping into him.

✰ Logan just grunts when you bump into him, holding the cigar between his lips with his teeth as his hands reach up to grab your arms and make sure you won't fall.

✰ a beat of silence. you blinking like someone had just flashed you with a flashlight in the face. and then your eyes start to tear up.

✰ and Logan freaks out big time. Confused and panicked as to having just made a random ass student cry.

✰ I'm talking wide eyes and frantically looking around in search of someone's arms to shove you into and away from him.

✰ cue Scott that was just walking by and suddenly gets the wind knocked out of his lungs because Logan pretty much shoved you into his arms.

✰ "fucking do somethin', slim" he said.

✰ spoiler: he turned around and walked away as quickly as he could without giving poor Summers a chance.

✰ and all the while he's mentally cursing himself beacuse making a kid cry is one thing those little shits will cry about anything, but making a teenager cry is another one (given their usually complicated relationship towards tears and vulnerability)

✰ skip to two days later when Jean finally manages to get him alone and it turns out you're a telepath that still doesn't know how to control their powers.

✰ and Logan's like "and?" cue the nasty wolverine bombastic side-eye and quirked eyebrow combo

✰ and and your telepathic abbilities consist of, amongst a few other things, read memories through contact.

✰ and then Logan's like "oh" and Jean is like "yes" and he's like "oh. oh shit"

✰ because he basically, accidentally and unknowingly, flashed a teenager with probably the most gruesome and traumatic war memories known to man.

✰ so now he's just like awkwardly eyeing you out of the corner of his eye anytime he spots you in a room because "damn how much did she see fuck"

✰ and he doesn't know the sheer extent of it until you wake up in your room feeling like you were about to puke your organs out and Logan wakes up just from the stench of your fear that he could smell from a floor away.

✰ it doesn't come as a surprise when he hears a shaky knock on his door and opens it up to the sight of you (paler than a damn ghost) looking like you might faint right there.

✰ "messed up shit, ain'it?" was what Logan groaned, voice raw with sleep, before stepping back and tilting his head as a sign to let you in.

✰ cue the protocol "what did'ya see, bub?" as he rubbed his thumb across your forehead to wipe the cold sweat there.

✰ cue to you looking at him with the most 100-yard-stare eyes he had ever seen and asking. "..where were his legs-?"

✰ and Logan just about chokes on air beacuse what the actual fuck. Staring down at you with his eyebrows up to his hairline.

✰ ellaborating on it, turns out your nightmare had offered you a perfect five stars third-person look into one of his memories in the trenches. The one when he was trying to calm down, sush, a young man crying for his mother on the middle of a gunfire because his legs had gotten blown off. the dude didn't make it.

✰ After that one, Logan simply grimaced "oof, tough one to see, kid" before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest. His chin on top of your head.

✰ "ya wanna stay w'me?" he didn't even look down, didn't need to do it in order to feel the way you immediately nodded your head. "alright, down we go" and pulling you down to the bed with him.

✰ he didn't have the strenght to look you in the eyes though, keeping you under his eyeline and cuddled up to his side.

✰ needless to say this routine repeated itself few times a week.

[rhettabbotts]

I hear dilf Rhett and must respond hehe

before he and babysitter get together, he comes home late one night after the girls have gone to bed. Babysitter fell asleep on the couch trying to wait up for him. He looks over her fondly, admiring her peaceful expression. He starts to walk toward the kitchen to fix himself a drink when he hears a quiet moan…

he doesn’t dare wake her up, not yet ready to cross that line yet. So in the low light of his living room, dilf!rhett watches his sweet babysitter have a sex dream on the couch 😈

It was a late night. The cattle had to be moved to the east pasture and branded. And MaryLou decided to give birth to her calf all at the same time. Rhett was exhausted. His body ached and his back had a pull in it that was bothering him to no end. He wanted nothing more than to kick his boots off, strip his dirty clothes and shower under scalding hot water.

The house was dark when he walked up, the yellow tinted porch light that usually burned was off. It was nearly eleven. Grace and Ellie were definitely asleep. You were probably fast asleep in your room as well.

As he stepped inside he could see the TV was lighting up the living room to his right but it was silent. And he could see you curled into yourself, wearing a thin tank top and sleep shorts. The ones that stopped right below your ass. The ones that drove him nuts every time he’s seen you in them. Which wasn’t often, expect for the few run-ins grabbing a glass of water at night.

Rhett stood by the door for a few moments, eyes taking in your sleeping form as he toed off his boots quietly. You shifted in your sleep, a slight arch of your back pushed your breasts taut against the tank and with the chill in the house, he could see your peaked nipples. He looked away quickly, feeling dirty - and it wasn’t because of the sweat and mud caked on his forearms.

He turned his back to you, heading to the kitchen for a quick nightcap. As he reached for the cabinet, a quiet noise filtered through the air and hit his ears. It sounded like a whimper almost and he went back to the living room to check on you. Perhaps you were having a nightmare. Another whining sound. Or perhaps not.

He watched you turn again onto your side. Your breath hitched and you let out a soft moan. Rhett felt his cock stir in his jeans. He left like a pervert but he couldn’t take his eyes off the way your body twitched slightly.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, so quietly he could’ve easily missed it if it wasn’t eerily silent inside the house. Another moan.

You turned onto your back again, your breathing a little quicker. More noises filtered through the living room and with each breathy moan and whimper, Rhett’s cock hardened against the constraint of his jeans.

The blanket that had been kicked to the end of the couch soon became entangled with your legs and he could tell it was rubbing ever so gently against your cunt, from the way a gasp escaped your lips.

“Fuck,” Rhett mimicked your sentiment earlier as he watched your chest heave. His right hand gripped his cock hard, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

“Mmm, daddy. There,” you keened, pressing your thighs together tightly. God, he couldn’t look away now. Dirty old man, he thought to himself.

The sounds became more frequent and Rhett was absentmindedly rubbing himself languidly. Another sharp gasp came from you and what he heard next nearly made him come right there in his pants.

“Rhett, yes, yes!”

Your thighs quivered, your body taut and Rhett had to close his eyes, finally taking them off of you. You stilled after a few moments, your breathing slowing again and a slight snore escaped you.

Rhett took the steps two at a time and stripped naked, not even waiting for his shower to warm up. He fisted his cock until it nearly hurt, recounting each breathy little moan. Wondering what you’d sound like if he buried his face into your pussy. The sound of you moaning “daddy” and “Rhett” ringed in his ears as he came all over the shower tile.

[straylightdream]

understand | coming soon

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: yoon joenghan x f.reader

↳ Watching your “best friend” marry your ex is heart breaking. At least Jeonghan is by your side. He’s the only one who could make you feel less heartbroken.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ??

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much fluff, mutual pining, they’re both head over heels for each other. Unprotected sex (the mc is on birth control), body worship, oral

an: this was inspired by the song understand by keshi

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

-PREVIEW-

“I didn’t bring a date,” he simply stated.

You pushed your eyebrows together and gave him a confused look, it was rare Jeonghan ever went to an event without a date. “That’s odd,” you said with a little laugh as you swayed to the beat of the music.

He didn’t say anything, Jeonghan just gave you a smile and pulled you slightly closer to his body. You swayed to the beat of the slow song the band was playing.

“I should have asked you to dance long before now,” he said softly.

“I was hiding in a corner not many people knew where I was,” you let out a soft little laugh.

He shook his head and said, “I’m saying I should have taken you out on a proper date.” His words caught you off guard. “I shouldn’t have waited until the night of your asshole ex’s wedding.” You blankly stared at him just confused by what he was saying to you. You have always had a crush on Jeonghan for most of your life, but you didn’t think in a million years he would ever return your feelings. He’s the talked around town with all the girls. He’s charming and oh so handsome. He could have any girl he could possibly ever want. You’re confused as to why he would want you.

“Why would you ask me out?” You asked speaking up for the first time.

“Because you’re pretty and funny and why wouldn’t I?” He stopped dancing and reached down and grabbed your hand. Lacing your fingers together he led you out of the ballroom where everyone was still dancing and you headed out to the balcony.

You stood outside in the crisp night air. You silently stared at him, not even sure what was going on. You weren't sure if this was all a nightmare for the fact you were at your best friend's wedding where the man she was marrying was your ex boyfriend or if it was a dream based on the fact Jeonghan just admitted he wished he’d taken you out on a proper date.

“Honey I like you, I have for a while,” he stated. Your eyes grew wide, shocked by his words. “You were so torn up by that asshole in there I didn’t know what to do.”

“You literally leave tomorrow for a month-long business trip,” you sighed. You weren't even going to get a chance with him before he was gone for a whole month, maybe even more.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Syverson

A little short, sweet and spicy chapter inspired by this post by @navybrat.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, Mild/Implied smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Established relationship. Reader is plus sized female. No other descriptors used.

A/N2: Sorry this is late! I swear I had it queued up and ready to go earlier today!

Previous

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Spa days weren't exactly something you were interested in. Having strangers wash your hair, rub your feet, cover your eyes with cucumbers. It was all just too much for your anxiety. And that was before you took the cost into account. But that didn't mean you couldn't still find spa adjacent ways to relax.

Sometimes, when it was just you and Lily, you'd enjoy soaking your feet in a little spa-like soaker. The warm water and gentle massage were very relaxing. Especially after Lily learned it wasn't an second water bowl. When your periods got rough, sometimes all you could do was sit there, feet soaking, heating pad over your pelvis. Lily snugged up to you, unsure of what was wrong but knowing you needed help.

Your favorite, though, was when Sy was home. Anytime you asked for a spa treatment, he smiled and prepared the body lotion for the hour long massage you were going to get. His hands were damn near magical with how good they felt. So warm, so strong, yet able to be gentle for you. Your entire body felt like jelly by the time he was done with you.

Though, in truth, he still wasn't done.

After your massage, when you can't move from how good you feel, Sy flips you onto your back and starts eating you out. He calls it his "payment" for the massage and who are you to deny him when he makes you feel so damn good? He knows he's done a good job when he has you crying out his name for the fifth time. That's when he pulls away from your oversensitive pussy and gives you a deep kiss, your juices still in his beard.

"Tell me what you need, Darlin'," he growls.

"You, Captain," you breathe. "Need you."

"That's my girl," he replies as he moves away just long enough to take off his clothes. One time he tried to keep his shirt on but you pouted that you wanted all of him. Since then, he's always removed the shirt as well.

You swear you'll never get used to the way he so easily manhandles you into whatever position he wants. It's thrilling, if only because you trust him so much. He loves to position you so that he can watch your tits bounce as he pounds into you. Loves watching your face when you cum. Loves how you call his name. He swears there's nothing more beautiful.

He always tells you that there is no "keeping score" in these kinds of things, but you're not one for receiving all the pleasure without giving some back.

On his bad days, when the nightmares wake him up, when the PTSD hits again, it's not just Lily that helps him. You know what smells to keep out of the apartment, which ones to keep to help him get back to you. You know when he needs space and when he needs to be held. You've abstained from alcohol because it was always too tempting for him to keep around. You know when to push him to talk, when to let it go.

You take care of each other, like you promised to when you exchanged vows. Neither of you ever regrets it.

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@kingliam2019; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly

[clarissaweasley-10]

The Hawthorne Brothers

Nash Hawthorne who always hoped every single time that his mother would stay or take him with her until every drop of hope had been squeezed dry from him. Nash Hawthorne who knew everything but stayed quiet to protect his brothers because, they were all he had, and if not him, then who? Nash Hawthorne who would put away anything to help his brothers. Making Grayson understand that he can't be perfect all the time and he is just human. Motivating Jameson to become who he is, not Grayson's clone and he is perfect the way he is. Celebrating every new invention Xander makes and convince him that he's better than his haters. Nash Hawthorne who got crushed by the guilt of leaving his brothers behind. Nash Hawthorne who believes that no matter what he does, he'll never be worth loving.

Grayson Hawthorne who cried in Nash's arms almost every night when they were kids, because he thought that he was never enough, and the old man hated him. Grayson Hawthorne who wiped Jamie's tears every night after a nightmare because he knew that the old man wouldn't take it lightly if he saw Jamie crying and he just wanted to be there for his younger brother. Protect him. Because family first right? Grayson Hawthorne who secretly pretended to be always annoyed with Xander, but would beat the living daylights out of anyone who would bully his brothers or make him feel bad.

Jameson Hawthorne who hated himself so much that sometimes he couldnt even bear to look at himself. Jameson Hawthorne who was always the last to get approval. Jameson Hawthorne who believed that all he needed was success and he could live on adrenaline alone, because he couldn't do anything else. He was never good enough, too ordinary, too normal. Jameson Hawthorne who was forced to look at Grayson as an opponent and not just as his older brother. The older brother who once wiped away his tears at night, the older brother who still loved him. The older brother who he still loved. Jameson Hawthorne who tried to shield the world from him by simply destroying it.But he couldn't break, he just couldnt becuase then what will happen to his brothers? No matter what, he couldnt let Nash blame it all on himself and leave, Gray overwork himself to death or let Xander deal with all the mess. No he couldnt, he wont.

Xander Hawthorne who was always happy and easy going but how true is it really? Xander Hawthorne who hid behind his smile and laughter. Xander Hawthorne who laughed off every rude comment no matter how much it punched his inferiority complex. Xander Hawthorne who tried to always be happy no matter what because he just wanted to enjoy his life in whatever crazy way possible. Xander Hawthorne who cried to his pillow all alone because he didnt want to disturb his brothers as they had soo much more going on than him. Xander Hawthorne who was left feeling that no one wanted him as he was as replaceable as a battery. Xander Hawthorne who'd do anything to cheer up his brothers as he hated to see them so sad. Hated to see the defeated look on the faces of the three people who had stayed throughout his life. Had stayed for him, with him. Xander Hawthorne who wouldn't dwell on negativity or allow him to focus on his sadness because he had to stay strong, he couldn't let himself break. He had to take care of his brothers, pull them from their sadness. And if he himself was sad, then who will he do that?

[livesworthlivingau]

Memory of a Kiss

The first of a series I'm calling 'Memories Of' which show a moment from Siffrin's original 30 years post game. Though as you can see here, they won't all be from his POV~

CW: Suicide, Blood, Strangling.

|It's been 2 months since everything went down back at the house of change, and Sif had been a lot more emotionally stable as of late. You've been wanting to give them space and not pester them about your feelings for them, but now they're starting to show signs of expecting it. Still, you want to make sure it's something special, so you've been planning a special date to finally begin your relationship together.|

"Alright everyone, wish me luck!" |You say with a light blush before everyone cheers you out the door of Bonnie and Nille's place. With a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a wrapped up, fresh pain au chocolat from Bonnie in the other, you set out to the docks where Sif said they'd be hanging out today.|

|Finally, you spot their familiar darkless cloaked and hatted form laying down at the end of the dock.|

"Sif! Siffrin!" |You call out eagerly, but they don't move. They must have taken a nap by the sea, just like them to pass out in the strangest of places... but despite the reasonable explanation, you can't help but get a sinking feeling deep in your gut...|

"He's fine, totally fine, just napping." |You beg, plead, pray calmly tell yourself, walking up closer and kneeling behind them, laying on their side. You lightly grab his shoulder and give it a little shake.|

"Hey, Siffy, Siffarooni, wake u-" |Their form falls towards you onto his back, limp and lifeless, lightless fluid soaking into a large pool in front of them from their carved wrists... Your heart stops, your body freezes, you just stare in absolute horror, taking in the soft, relieved smile on their face.|

"S... Sif..." |You whisper out, as if a wish to the universe, to take it back, to reveal it's fake, to loop back so you could stop this. You slowly pull his cold corpse close to your body, hugging it as tight as you could, lightly rocking back and forth as your brain won't let you fully process what you've seen.|

"It's okay Sif... I'm here... I won't let go..." |You whisper as tears silently flow down your face. You continue rocking back and forth, holding them tight as their blood soaks into your clothing.|

"... Isaa..." |Your eyes widen as you hear their raspy voice, quickly pulling them back to look at their face|

"SIF?!" |Their still limp form dangles in front of you for a moment, before it suddenly lunges to life, grabbing your throat. His eye is pure darkless and empty, staring into your very soul.|

"Why weren't you strong enough?... Why couldn't you help me?..." |You choke out a gasp, gripping at his arms and trying to pry them off of you, but it was no use. He continued to squeeze your neck tighter and tighter, his lifeless expression turning to that of anger.|

"WHY COULDN'T YOU HELP ME?!" |He shouts, clenching even tighter. Just before you'd feel a snap, you suddenly jolt awake, sitting up instantly in bed and gripping at your throat. You pant out heavily, slowly coming to your senses as you realize you're still in bed, it was just a horrid nightmare...|

"Sif... Sif, you awake?" |You ask to your side, reaching a hand over, only to find the bed empty... You try to stop yourself from panicking. You try to take a few deep breaths like Sif does... You... You... You have to find him!|

"SIFFRIN!!" |You shout as you practically faceplant from how frantically you rushed out of bed. You dart for the door and yank it out, quickly rushing through the house for the front door, you have to find him, you have to find him before it happens, you have to find him now!!|

"Isa?!" |You skid to a stop just before the door, looking to your right to see Sif and Nille sitting at the kitchen table, having a cup of Coffee together. You quickly shift your face to a bright, eager smile as you realize what's going on.|

"Sif! Couldn't sleep, huh?" |You ask casually, nervous drops of sweat trickling down your face. Nille gives a slight snort at that.|

"Smooth, big guy~." |She teases before sipping at her coffee.|

"... I'm sorry, Isa, I just couldn't sleep well, I didn't mean to worry you." |They tug their hat down a bit, trying to hide under it like usual. You really stepped in it this time.|

"No, Sif, you didn't do anything wrong, I just... I had a bad dream is all, made me worry about you, it's stupid." |You try to lighten the mood, though your freak out a moment ago made it pretty obvious you're lying.|

"I'll give you two some alone time." |Nille says, getting up from the table and leaving her seat open for you. She pats your shoulder as she walks past and whispers.| "You got this Za~."

|You sit down with a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of your head.| "You sure you're doing okay, Sif? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I-I know! I am! Much better at least... I just... You haven't really talked about 'us' in a while, a-and I was getting worried that you might not feel the same anymore... I was talking to Nille about it and she said you were planning something really big and special..." |You carefully study their face to see how they feel about that, and they seem... disappointed?|

"Is that... bad?"

"N-No! Not... exactly? I just... I don't need anything fancy like that." |They put their hand on the table, inviting you to take it, which you quickly do in a snug yet careful grasp.| "I just need you..."

"R-Really?" |You start to feel your own face heating up quite a bit.|

"Of course... D-Do you remember... what we talked about? A-At the top of the house?..." |You remember talking about a lot of stuff up there, but once they make that familiar face, you know exactly what they're referring to.|

"I remember there being mention of practicing a certain activity... If that's what you might be referring to!" |They give a little nod in response. He slowly gets out of his chair to walk closer, standing nervously beside you and waiting. You take the hint and gently take him into your lap.|

|He closes his eye, and you close yours, leaning in close to press your lips to his. The warmth of your bodies pressed together, the little spark in your heart, the light parting of your lips. The moment was absolutely perfect, just as you wished it would be.|

This was actually concocted for a trade with @eldritch-araneae who specifically requested that sweet, sweet Isa angst~ I sure how I did it justice! Hope y'all enjoyed~!

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices/ BTR Book 2: a Jhea fanfic.

Chapter 12: Sago Palm

February 2nd, 2025 3:42 AM

Rhea’s body shifted restlessly under the sheets, her face contorted with a mix of fear and pain. She was trapped in the depths of a nightmare, a vivid and cruel imagination of her deepest fears. In the dream, she stood in the middle of a cold, sterile courtroom. The judge, his gavel raised high, pronounced in a booming voice: “Matthew Addams, not guilty.”

Gasps echoed through the room, but it was as if everyone around her was frozen. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to scream, but no sound came out. The walls of the courtroom seemed to close in around her, and when she tried to run, every door was locked. Desperation clawed at her throat, her fists pounding uselessly against the unyielding wooden doors.

Suddenly, the walls started to bleed, dark red streaks running down, and the courtroom dissolved into a suffocating void. Rhea was falling, falling endlessly—

She jolted awake with a gasp, her chest heaving as she sat upright. Her heart raced, the phantom echoes of the dream still lingering in her mind. Sweat clung to her skin, and she tried to catch her breath.

Beside her, Jey was already awake, his eyes filled with concern. “I kept trying to wake you,” he said softly, his voice thick with worry. He reached out and gently touched her arm. “You were crying out in your sleep again babe..”

She pressed her hands to her face, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. “It was him,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “The judge… he said Matthew was not guilty. And I couldn’t get out. Every door was locked, Jey.”

Jey sat up and pulled her into his arms without hesitation, holding her tightly against his chest. His warmth and steady heartbeat began to ground her, chasing away the lingering fear. He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering for a moment. “It was just a dream, baby. I’m here. He’s not gonna hurt you again. I won’t let him.”

Rhea let out a shuddering breath, the tears she had been holding back finally escaping. “I don’t know why it still feels so real,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I know he is in jail right now but I feel like he’s still out there, waiting to destroy everything again.”

Jey’s arms tightened around her, his protective nature kicking in full force. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “You’ve been through hell, but you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me and the whole family. We’re not gonna let him win.”

Rhea leaned into him, her fingers clutching at his shirt like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. “I love you,” she murmured.

Jey tilted her chin up so she could meet his eyes. “I love you too, Rhea. More than anything.”

He kissed her softly, a promise wrapped in tenderness. When he pulled back, he said, “You don’t have to carry this alone. We’re gonna get through it, together.”

Rhea nodded, the weight on her chest feeling just a little lighter. “Together,” she repeated.

Jey shifted, leaning back against the headboard, and pulled her to rest against him. “Come here,” he said, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on her back. “Close your eyes. I got you.”

—

8:42 AM

Rhea sat curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over her legs as the rich aroma of hot champurrado filled the room. The warm mug rested in her hands, offering a small comfort as she spoke to her mother over the phone.

“How’s my lovely pregnant daughter feeling?” her mother asked, her voice filled with affection.

“I’m doing fine, Mom,” Rhea replied, though her tone carried a hint of weariness.

Her mother didn’t miss a beat. “Talk to me, babygirl. I can hear it in your voice.”

Rhea hesitated, taking a slow sip from her mug before setting it down on the coffee table. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I do have to ask… Did I deserve any of the things that happened to me?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end before her mother’s voice returned, firm and resolute. “Demi, listen to me. No one deserves the kind of pain you’ve been through. No one. You’ve been strong, and you’ve fought through more than most people could handle. Are you okay?”

Rhea sighed, leaning back into the cushions. “It’s just my nightmares, Mom. They’ve been getting worse lately.”

Her mother’s voice softened. “Have you thought about journaling? It helped me when your father and I were going through a rough patch. Sometimes putting your thoughts on paper can help you make sense of them.”

Rhea shook her head, though she knew her mother couldn’t see it. “No, but I’ve started gardening again. It helps, being out there, working with my hands.”

“That’s the spirit,” her mother said, her voice warm with encouragement.

Rhea hesitated again before asking, “Mom… do you think Jey really loves me?”

Her mother was quiet for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. “Honey, he was there every single day when you were in that coma. He didn’t leave your side. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

Rhea’s chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. “I love him a lot,” she admitted quietly. “But I just don’t want to feel like I’m forcing him into this because I got pregnant.”

Her mother’s voice grew gentle but firm. “Demi, a real man steps up when it matters most. Jey is that kind of man, and you already know that. Trust in his love for you, just like he trusts in you.”

Rhea felt a small smile tug at her lips. “Thank you, Mom. I needed to hear that.”

“Tell you what,” her mother said. “Your father and I can come down at the end of the month to see your new home. We’d love to spend some time with you.”

Rhea’s smile widened. “That would be great. I’d love to see you guys.”

“Alright then,” her mother said, her tone lifting. “And remember, Demi, you’re never alone. We’re always here for you.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. Now, go enjoy your day with that wonderful man of yours.”

Rhea ended the call, setting her phone aside as she leaned back into the couch. The weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter, her mother’s words a comforting balm to her restless thoughts. She looked out the window, watching the sunlight dance on the leaves in her garden.

No matter how dark her dreams got, she reminded herself, there was always light to be found in the love and support of those who cared for her.

Liv walked down the stairs, her fuzzy socks padding softly on the hardwood floor. She spotted Rhea curled up on the couch.

“Do you have more of that cocoa?” Liv asked, her voice light.

Rhea glanced up and smiled. “Yeah, it’s in the kettle. Help yourself.”

Liv headed to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup. She took a sip and her eyes lit up, it wasn’t cocoa. “Is this Dom’s champurrado?”

Rhea nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah, he made some for me last night so I could have it this morning.”

Liv grinned. “I love it when he makes this stuff. It’s like a warm hug in a cup.”

Heading to the couch, Liv plopped down next to Rhea, pulling the blanket over her legs. She snuggled up close, and they both turned their attention to the TV, the soft glow of the screen casting a cozy light in the room.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Rhea spoke, her voice quieter. “I had a nightmare again.”

Liv’s head tilted as she looked at her best friend. “Did you punch Jey this time?” she teased, a playful smirk on her face.

Rhea let out a small laugh. “No, not this time.”

Liv gave her a nudge. “So, what was it about?”

Rhea’s smile faded as she recounted the details of her dream. “It was the trial. The judge found Matt not guilty, and I tried to run out of the courtroom, but every door was locked. I couldn’t get out.”

Liv frowned, her playful demeanor replaced with concern. “Rhea, the trial hasn’t even happened yet. There’s still time, and you’ve got the best lawyer on your side. Julian’s a shark—he helped you get your name back when Matt would not sign the papers.”

Rhea sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. “I know, but I’m worried. What if the jury actually believes him? What if they find him not guilty?”

Liv placed her hand on Rhea’s arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “That’s not going to happen. You’ve been through hell, but you’ve got everyone backing you—Jey, us, your family. And Julian’s not going to let some scumbag walk free after what he did to you.”

Rhea nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on the flickering TV screen. “I just can’t help but think about the worst-case scenario, you know?”

Liv leaned her head on Rhea’s shoulder. “It’s normal to worry, but you’re stronger than your fears. And if you ever forget that, just remember you’ve got all of us here to remind you.”

A small smile crept back onto Rhea’s face. “Thanks, Liv. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Liv grinned. “Well, for starters, you’d be stuck drinking boring hot cocoa instead of Dom’s champurrado.”

Rhea laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Fair point.”

The two friends sat in comforting silence, their shared warmth under the blanket a quiet reminder that, no matter what lay ahead, they wouldn’t face it alone.

Rhea asked, “How’s your head?”

Liv sighed, adjusting herself on the couch and pulling back her blonde hair to reveal a faint bruise. “I’ve got a bruise, to be honest, but I don’t think it’s a concussion.”

Rhea leaned in, gently touching the bruise with concern. “I’m so sorry, girl.”

Liv gave a small smile. “I’m okay, Rhea, don’t worry. I’ve been through worse.” She paused, then brightened. “How about you come to the mall with me later? I need to replace a bunch of stuff—aside from my ring gear.”

Rhea nodded. “Sure, after breakfast.”

Liv stretched and teased, “Speaking of breakfast, is Jey gonna get up and cook?”

Rhea chuckled. “It’s my turn today. I’ll make us some steak and eggs with toast.”

Liv’s eyes lit up. “That sounds amazing. I’ll help you.”

The two women stood up, making their way to the kitchen. Rhea glanced at the speaker and asked, “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

Liv grinned. “Is it 70’s? ‘Cause Dom was telling me how Jey was playing Al Green the other day, saying you brought out the romantic in him.”

Rhea laughed. “You know it’s 70’s.”

Liv shook her head fondly. “You two are so good for each other.”

Rhea scrolled through her playlist and played More Than a Woman by The Bee Gees. As the upbeat rhythm filled the kitchen, the women began preparing breakfast, Liv humming along while Rhea danced lightly.

Upstairs, Jey stood in front of the mirror, pulling off his sleep shirt. His eyes lingered on the scar on his shoulder, a painful reminder of the shooting. He exhaled deeply, pushing the memory aside, and slipped on a fresh shirt.

When he made his way downstairs, he paused at the kitchen entrance. Rhea was singing softly to the song, swaying as she worked, and Liv was laughing along. The scene filled him with warmth.

Rhea spotted him and smiled, gesturing with her hand. “Come here, papi’.”

Jey grinned and walked over, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “Y’all got the Bee Gees vibe goin’ strong, huh?”

Rhea leaned back against him. “Always. You know I love this song.”

Liv smirked as she flipped the eggs. “Your girl’s got good taste, Jey.”

Rhea turned in Jey’s arms, pulling him into a slow sway with her. “Dance with me,” she whispered.

Jey chuckled but followed her lead, swaying to the rhythm. “Anything for you, baby.”

Despite the scars and nightmares, moments like these reminded them both of the love and strength they shared.

—

As everyone sat down to enjoy breakfast, the door to the house creaked open. Jaciyah, dressed sharply in a blue polo collared shirt, blue jeans, and white Jordans, walked down the stairs. Jey glanced up from his plate and raised an eyebrow at his son’s attire.

“Where you going?” Jey asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Jaciyah paused, glancing at his dad before shrugging casually. “I’m ubering to church.”

Jey raised an eyebrow again, eyeing his son skeptically. “I don’t believe it.”

Jaciyah tried to walk past without saying much, but Jey’s suspicion grew. He followed Jaciyah to the front door, and before he could ask any more questions, Jaciyah opened it. To Jey’s surprise, a girl was standing outside, waving at Jaciyah from next to her Malibu.

“A girl?” Jey asked, voice laced with disbelief.

Jaciyah quickly replied, “It’s Demi’s sister, Daya. I’ll be back later, dad! I promise, I’m already late!” Without another word, Jaciyah ran out the door to meet her, leaving Jey to stand there, more confused than before.

Jey stood frozen for a moment, his mind buzzing. “Demi?” he muttered under his breath. The only Demi he knew was Rhea. He’d met Rhea’s sister before, so this had to be something different.

Rhea heard the door close. She looked up when Jey walked back inside, his expression puzzled.

“Well, was it an Uber?” she asked, as she reached for a piece of toast.

Jey shook his head slowly, still processing what had just happened. “Nah. It was some girl named Daya… Demi’s sister.”

Rhea and Jeyce exchanged a brief, silent glance. Jey noticed immediately. Something was off, and he could feel the tension building.

He turned his attention to his youngest son, Jeyce, who turned unusually quiet. Jey stared at him for a moment before asking, “Jeyce?”

Jeyce looked up, eyes wide, and immediately began pushing his steak around on his plate, avoiding his father’s gaze.

Rhea, sensing the growing discomfort in the room, reached over to place a comforting hand on Jeyce’s. “It’s okay, Jeyce. We won’t be mad.”

Jeyce squeezed his eyes shut, clearly struggling with what he was about to say. Then, in one breath, he blurted out, “Daya is Demi’s sister. Demi is my girlfriend. Jaciyah met Daya when she chaperoned mine and Demi’s date to the Smiths listening party this past Friday, and that’s why we needed your Mercedes. And I’m sorry I lied to you, dad, but Demi is my first girlfriend ever, and she’s so cool, and I like her laugh, and she loves Motionless in White, and she’s the best person ever.”

The room fell silent for a moment as Jey and Rhea processed the flood of information.

Jey blinked, his mouth opening and closing in shock. “Demi? Your first girlfriend?” His eyes turned to Rhea, seeking confirmation, but there was no denying it. The realization slowly dawned on him, and the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together.

Rhea sat back in her chair, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she looked at Jeyce. “I think if she loves Motionless in White, she is a keeper.” she said softly while smiling at Jey.

Jeyce visibly relaxed as his parents didn’t explode with anger, and the tension seemed to ease in the room. He looked down at his plate, still feeling a little nervous but relieved at the same time. “I just didn’t want to hide anything from you guys… I like her a lot.”

Jey sat back in his chair, still processing, but a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head. “You kids grow up too fast. First girlfriend, huh? Man, I can barely keep up.”

Rhea chuckled as well. “Well, at least it wasn’t a total surprise.” She gave Jeyce a wink. “Just be careful, okay? No rushing things.”

Jeyce nodded quickly, a small grin spreading across his face. “I won’t, promise.”

Rhea glanced at Jey. “What do you think, babe?”

Jey looked at Rhea for a moment before giving a small, approving nod. “I think as long as she treats you well, then I’m good with it.”

Jeyce grinned, relieved to have his parents’ approval, even if it was a little unexpected.

“So, Demi, huh?” Jey said with a smirk, clearly still adjusting to the news. “Guess I’ll have to meet this girl soon enough.”

Jeyce nodded eagerly. “You’ll like her, dad. She’s awesome.”

Rhea shot Jey a teasing look. “I already love her.”

The moment was lighthearted, but there was a sense of understanding settling between them. Life had its surprises, and this one wasn’t as bad as they thought.

—

Rhea sifted through the clothes in the closet, trying to decide what to wear for the mall outing. Her fingers ran over the fabric as she muttered to herself, considering what would be comfortable for a day of shopping, yet still casual enough to keep things lowkey. As she grabbed a denim jacket, she called out to Jey, who was in the bathroom.

“What are you and Dom going to do while me and Liv are at the mall?”

Jey’s voice echoed back from the bathroom, the sound of a hairdryer in the background. “Well, Jeyce said something about wanting to grab a record from this old band to impress Demi.”

Rhea laughed softly, shaking her head as she imagined their son trying to impress Demi with his music taste. “Don’t you think it’s cute?”

Jey’s laugh followed her words. “My boy is growing older.”

Rhea smiled as she turned, folding a shirt in her hands. “Well, in about seven more months, you’re going to be starting over.”

The comment made Jey pause. He stepped out of the bathroom, his hair freshly styled and his eyes sparkling with excitement. He crossed the room to her and leaned down, kissing her gently on the belly. Despite her being just ten almost eleven weeks along, the thought of their baby was already so real for him. His love for her and the little one inside her was boundless.

Rhea’s heart warmed as she ran her fingers through his hair, still feeling the weight of the moment. “You’re gonna come with to the ultrasound, right?” she asked, her voice soft but with a hint of concern.

“Of course, babe,” Jey replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “I can’t wait for Friday.” He kissed her belly again, his smile wide as he spoke, “I can’t wait till you get big, babe.”

Rhea chuckled softly at his enthusiasm but couldn’t help but feel the reality of the pregnancy hit her. “Really?” she asked, teasing him. “I’m going to get stretch marks, and my feet are going to swell.”

Before she could continue, Jey stopped her, his expression serious, yet filled with affection. “And I’m going to love you every step of the way,” he said, looking into her eyes.

Rhea’s heart fluttered as she met his gaze, hearing those words still made her feel cherished. “You’re incredible, you know that?” she whispered, her fingers brushing over his chest.

Jey smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face as he pulled her close. “It’s all part of the journey, baby. I’m here for it all.”

Rhea leaned into him, closing her eyes for a moment as the world outside felt like it faded away. They were in this together. The ups and the downs, the stretch marks and the swelling feet — it was all part of the new chapter they were about to begin.

After a few seconds of silence, Rhea pulled back with a playful grin. “Alright, well, I need to finish getting dressed before Liv comes in here and starts complaining about how slow I’m being.”

Jey laughed and nodded. “Go on, I’ll check in with Jeyce. But just so you know…” He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “You’re beautiful, every way and every day.”

Rhea smiled softly, her heart full, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to her closet. “You better be ready for me to be glowing with this baby belly,” she teased, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Jey winked at her as he backed away toward the door. “Can’t wait.”

As the door closed behind him, Rhea sighed, her fingers lingering on the clothes in her closet. She was ready for this next chapter. And with Jey by her side, she knew they could handle anything that came their way.

—

Rhea reclined slightly in the massage chair, her feet soaking in warm water as the nail tech worked on her toes. She glanced over at Liv, who was kicking her legs slightly, clearly feeling the music playing in the shop.

“This isn’t shopping, Liv,” Rhea teased, her tone dry but affectionate.

Liv smirked, tilting her head like a mischievous cat. “Oh, c’mon, Rhea. This is essential maintnence. You think these toes just stay cute by themselves?”

The nail tech chuckled, and Liv winked at her. “She gets it,” Liv said, pointing dramatically at the tech. “We’re queens, babe, and queens don’t roll out looking busted.”

Rhea shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Liv grinned, leaning back and throwing her arms up theatrically. “And don’t you forget it!” She turned her attention back to the nail tech. “Make sure to give me the sparkliest polish you got. I want to blind people when I walk.”

Rhea snorted. “Subtle as always.”

Liv shrugged. “Subtle is boring.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, I can’t wait to rebuild my empire, you know.”

Rhea chuckled. “What exactly does rebuilding your empire entail?”

Liv’s eyes lit up as if she’d been waiting for this question. “Okay, first stop: Victoria’s Secret. Gotta keep Dom on his toes, you know what I’m saying?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Then, Sephora, because a face like this deserves the best.” She gestured dramatically at herself. “And finally, maybe hit up Foot Locker for some kicks. My Converse are iconic, but a girl’s gotta have options.”

Rhea leaned back, crossing her arms. “That’s a lot of running around.”

Liv waved her off. “Please, you’re lucky I’m not dragging you to ten more stores. I’m being merciful.” She paused, her playful demeanor softening slightly. “Besides, after everything, a little retail therapy doesn’t hurt.”

Rhea nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Fair point.” She hesitated before adding, “I still can’t believe the car just… vanished after the accident.”

Liv’s playful smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a flash of irritation. “Yeah, that’s some real Twilight Zone-level nonsense. One minute, we’re dealing with the crash, and the next, the car’s gone like it had somewhere better to be.” She rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Dom thinks it’s some big conspiracy.”

Rhea couldn’t help but laugh. “Dom and his conspiracy theories.”

Liv grinned. “He’s cute when he’s being a little weirdo, though, right?” She sighed, her tone shifting back to her usual playful self. “Anyway, enough about that. Let’s focus on getting you into some killer outfits too. You can’t let me outshine you, Rhea.”

Rhea smirked. “Oh, trust me, Liv. That’s never going to happen.”

Liv gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Oh, it’s on now, babe. Just wait until we hit the stores. You’ll be begging me for fashion advice.”

Rhea laughed, shaking her head. “We’ll see about that.”

After some shopping, while in Ulta, Liv received a call from Dominik as Rhea swatched lipsticks. Some time passed on and Liv slipped her phone back into her pocket, still chuckling as she glanced at Rhea. “Looks like I’m on a mission for Dom now. Dude can’t survive without me for five seconds.”

Rhea rolled her eyes, holding up a deep red lipstick. “Of course not. He probably panicked the second he realized his hair serum was in the car…”

Liv laughed, grabbing a couple of hair products for Dom. “You know it. Guy’s as high-maintenance as I am.” She tossed a bottle into her basket with flair. “But that’s why we work, ya know? Two divas in perfect harmony.”

Rhea smirked, swatching the lipstick on her hand. “Yeah, except you’re the queen, and he’s your loyal subject.”

Liv grinned mischievously. “Damn right.” She added a few more products to her basket. “He’s lucky I even take his calls while I’m shopping for me.”

—

Meanwhile, back in Titusville, Jon and Trinity were attempting to enjoy some quiet time at his father’s beach house. The sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, but Trinity’s mind was elsewhere.

Jon sat beside her on the couch, his hand gently rubbing her growing belly. “You okay, baby?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

Trinity sighed, her eyes distant. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

Jon leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “What’s on your mind?”

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’ve just been thinking about everything that’s happened. Rhea, the baby… everything feels so heavy lately.”

Jon nodded, his own expression somber. “I know. It’s been a lot, but we’re getting through it.” He glanced out the window, where his cousins Jerome and Jacob were standing guard. “We’ve got family looking out for us.”

Trinity placed her hand over his. “I know, and I’m grateful. It’s just… I worry about Rhea. She’s been through so much, and now with the baby on the way, it’s like she doesn’t get a moment to breathe.”

Jon tightened his grip on her hand. “She’s tough, Trin. Tougher than most people I know. And she’s got Jey. He’s not gonna let her go through this alone.”

Trinity nodded, her expression softening slightly. “You’re right. But sometimes, even the strongest people need a break.”

Jon kissed her hand. “And you to babe.. now let’s just try to relax..”

Outside, Jerome and Jacob stood watch, their eyes scanning the beach for any signs of trouble. Jacob crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on a couple walking along the shore.

“Think anyone’s gonna try anything today?” Jerome asked, his tone light but watchful.

Jacob shook his head. “Doubt it. But if they do, they’ll regret it.”

Jerome smirked. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

—

The soft whistling continued as Luna’s tail wagged in excitement, her nose twitching at the familiar sound. She trotted eagerly toward the bushes where the figure waited, away from the security cameras that surrounded the yard and home, an eerie calm emitting them. The day was still, the neighborhood quiet, a vast difference compared to the storm brewing in the shadows.

The figure crouched down, their face hidden by a hood and dark sunglasses. Their gloved hand gently extended toward Luna, and the dog, ever trusting, sniffed at the offering—something wrapped in cheese. Luna nuzzled the small piece, her tongue flicking the cheese before swallowing it whole.

“Good girl,” the figure muttered with a twisted smile, watching Luna lap up the treat. “You’ve been a good companion, but you were never meant to be hers.”

The sago palm—the fatal plant—slipped into the dog’s stomach without hesitation. Luna didn’t seem to notice, blissfully unaware of the danger she was in, and continued to wander away after finishing her snack.

The figure stood slowly, their eyes never leaving Luna as the dog strolled aimlessly across the yard, her usual playful energy dimming. There was no immediate sign of harm, but the figure knew the poison would work its way through her system soon enough.

“She’ll never know what hit her,” the figure whispered coldly, their lips curling into a bitter grin.

Luna disappeared out of view behind the bushes, and the figure’s attention turned quickly. They darted toward the high fence, scaling it effortlessly and landing softly on the other side. The figure didn’t hesitate, sprinting toward the souped up, four by four, black truck parked just beyond the property line. The engine roared to life with an almost menacing sound as they slammed the gearshift into drive, tires screeching as they sped down the street.

The plan was in motion, and now the clock was ticking.

As the truck vanished into the distance, the figure’s thoughts turned inward, a cold resolve setting in. They weren’t going to wait until April, not now. Time was of the essence, and their target—Rhea—wouldn’t be prepared for what was to come.

[revelboo]

OOOO! Yes yes yes! Please more of the Lost Light crew! I love them all so much!

And more Shockwave (any gen) PLS PLS PLS he is my absolute favorite!!!

Your writing is amazing! All of it! I love every update! Every story is such a treat and the way you write is delicious!

Thank you!

Invisible Monsters Pt 5

Lost Light Megatron x Reader

• “What’s going on?” You mumble as he reaches up to curl his servos around the warmth of you where you’d apparently draped yourself against his neck while he recharged. Hates moving you, but his data pad is lit up. Carefully cradling you to him so he can sit up and reach for his data pad as it dings again. “Megatron?” The worry in your sleepy voice makes him slow down, tracing the curve of your cheek with a servo. Wanting nothing more than to just lay back down with you, because he’s rested better feeling the beat of your heart against him than he has in forever. How long has it been since his recharge wasn’t haunted by nightmares? Somehow, having you there, feeling you, banishes them.

• “Everything’s well.” His words are reassuring, but there’s the faintest hint of a growl in his voice that contradicts him and you’re wide awake now. Whatever that alert was, it’s bad. That feeling strengthening as the former warlord shutters his optics for a moment as if gathering himself. Or praying for strength. Rodimus maybe? “I’ll be back,” he adds, lowering you onto his berth as he stands, hesitating to drape a blanket around you before leaving.

• Stiffening when the finds Ultra Magnus waiting outside his quarters, he falls into step beside the other mech, heading for the bridge. “How many?” And how had no one realized what idiocy Brainstorm was up to? Preceptor is supposed to be watching him, reining him in.

• “Aside from the one currently in your possession?” The look Magnus shoots him clearly giving away his opinion on leaving a human in his care. And it’s not that he doesn’t understand the other mech’s concern, but it still bothers him that Magnus assumes you’re in danger with him. That he’d hurt you. “Three more have been found so far, but Brainstorm isn’t exactly being forthcoming. If that device has been randomly pulling humans here since the first one appeared, there’s no telling how many there are. It doesn’t help that we keep finding new areas of the ship or rooms that were walled off.”

• Primus, what a mess. “The others?” He asks servos lifting unconsciously to touch his throat where your warmth was before he realizes what he’s doing and drops his hand. “Who has them?”

• “Rodimus has one that he tried to pawn off on me. Drift has another that seems to be having some sort of lingering issue with being transported. And Whirl.” Venting tiredly at him as Megatron’s steps falter, Magnus holds up a hand. “I know, but considering their immediate instinct when faced with him was to punch him? I’m not too concerned. I’m more worried that Brainstorm said there’s likely more not on the ship.”

• Running his servos over his face, he swallows a growl, because this mess just gets better. Because how to tell you that they’d figured out what had happened to you, but that you’d been one of the lucky ones? That you might not have been is an uneasy feeling twisting through his spark. He’d never have known what he was missing, never have felt the touch of those trusting, little hands on his much bigger ones. Hands that before had only been used to hurt. “Dead, then?” He hazards as they enter the bridge and he spots Rodimus and Drift both cornering Brainstorm, the scientist appearing bored with them.

• “Or on another ship or world we passed too near. From what Brainstorm and Preceptor have volunteered, humans were only shifted to places where Cybertronians were.”

Previous

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

I'm obsessed with vampires... what if William Tell.

Me too 😭 I hope I did this one justice! <3

A Secret In Your Throat

Vampire!William Tell x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: You meet a man at the bar.

Warnings: swearing, kissing, oral sex, p in v sex, cream pie, blood, biting, gonna say a little dub con because of vampires hypnotizing powers, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1507

He’d seemed nice, non-threatening, when he asked if he could buy you a drink at the casino bar. He’d stayed a respectable distance, not crowding you in the slightest. And for some reason that made you want to get closer, caused you to shift your seat a few inches nearer. 

He’d asked soft questions, there was just something about his voice that made you want to float on the sound. He listened to your answers, hardly talking about himself and steering the conversation back to you again and again and again.

He said his name was William. Like the conqueror. It had made you laugh more than it should.

You didn’t notice the bartender give you both a knowing look when you invited William to your hotel room. You didn’t notice that when he lightly touched your waist you went giddy, light headed and dazed. You didn’t even notice how sharp his teeth were when you kissed him outside of your room’s door, too preoccupied with how he licked into your mouth and wrapped his arms around you. 

You didn’t notice the faint sheen to his eyes, how his skin was just a fraction too cold. Like he had been outside for hours in the dead of winter, not in all be in an air conditioned but well temperature regulated environment. 

He pulls your clothes off without allowing you to even unbutton any of his own, pushing you down onto your bed and burying his head between your thighs. 

You moan, arching up into his touch as he licks and sucks and groans. His fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you spread as wide as possible for him as he devours his banquet. 

You gently pull at his hair with one hand, rocking against his face as he lightly guides your hips to buck. 

His name falls from your lips as pleasure twists deep within your stomach, making you lightheaded, dizzy. Even more so than before. Like you could just slip into a fevered sleep right then and there. You blink heavily, despite the way his tongue moves, pulling you higher and higher, you fight against it. Struggle with that blanket of slumber that is trying to drown you. 

You press him closer, pulling his right hand from your thigh and wrapping one leg over his back. He groans softly, looking up at you with a mixture of awe and surprise. 

His eyes catch yours, like a rabbit in a snare. You can’t look away, can’t breathe. Every single part of you is frozen, paralysed as he slowly moves his mouth, moving back the smallest fraction, but just enough for you to see the flash of oh so sharp canines. 

Your stomach drops. Adrenaline screaming in your ears. 

This wasn’t real, couldn’t be real. You try to move, your limbs stuck fast and useless, a nightmare turning your blood to stone. 

William bites down, his teeth sinking into the top of your mons while he tongue still flicks against your clit. 

You gasp, finally able to breathe, the pain cutting through the haze and quickly dissolving into a syrupy pleasure. 

“Fuck,” the word escapes your lips like a prayer, you should push him back, get the fuck out of there but instead your grip in his hair tightens as you hold him closer. 

That thick blanket of haze dissipates, a fog lifting as you moan and buck your hips, needing him. 

You miss the look in his eyes as you push your head back against the pillows, the flicker of surprise that is quickly followed by a growl.

He bites harder, letting his canines sink into your skin. Your blood is so sweet as it wells up and fills his mouth, mixing with your slick. The endorphins hit his tongue like treacle, tingling along his spine. He squeezes your leg posessively, swallowing and lapping desperately. 

His cock throbs in his trousers, begging to be freed. The sensation is almost alien, the need to fuck while feeding is one that hasn’t raised it’s head in such a long, long time. And now it is almost undeniable, screaming in his ear and pulling at his limbs.

His usual method was practised, practically an art form. A light seduction and back to the target's room. 

He’d make sure they’d come with his mouth on them, a small bite to just get a taste, and then when they fully fell under his spell they’d sleep and he’d feed from their thigh before sealing the wound. Enough to fill him for a week or so.

The victim would wake in the morning with a dry throat and headache, but nothing worse than a mild hangover. They’d remember him sucking and licking and coming and that was all. It would be a nice memory, a pleasant one. They got an orgasm and he got a meal. A fair exchange. 

But you weren’t sleeping. Weren’t falling further and further into that state of suggestion. 

He pulls his fangs free of your skin and sucks your clit into his mouth until you scream, legs shaking as you come hard. Pleasure washes over you in waves, sapping the energy from your muscles as it shots along your limbs. 

William snarls, sitting up quickly and undoing his belt and trousers just enough to pull his aching cock free. 

He presses one hand on your thigh, pushing himself in with little ceremony as your pussy is still fluttering and pulsing. 

You cry out, grabbing hold of his arms and the back of his neck to draw him closer, pull him deeper. 

He bends his body over yours, bearing his blood stained teeth as he grabs your jaw and thrusts inside. 

You gasp, tensing as he fills you, hitting so deep you can practically feel him in your heart. 

He stares at your eyes, trying to force the drowsiness to overwhelm you, but it just won’t come. 

“What are you?” He growls. 

You rock against him, sobbing as he presses so wonderfully deep. “What?” You bite your lip, your eyes rolling back as you move, needing him to fuck you in earnest. 

He leans forward, unable to stop himself as he kisses you roughly, licking into your mouth and moaning when you reciprocate, your come and blood on his tongue. 

You whimper, urging him to move and gasping when he finally starts to. He groans, letting his body buck automatically, sinking in and out in a long hypnotising roll of his hips. 

Your blood tastes human, your heartbeats under his hands as he squeezes your chest. Your words and cries are only truthful as you beg. 

It makes no sense. 

“Please, please, please,” you wrap your legs around him, matching his deep thrusts. The patch of dark curls between his legs brush against your clit with every rock, pushing you further and further into pleasure. 

“What do you want?” He growls, his forehead pressed against yours as he moans and runs his hands all over you, marvelling in how you writhe and lean closer. 

You sob, not really knowing what you want, not knowing how to put it into words. A deep craving settling low in your chest. 

You pull his hair, push his face into your neck. “I need you to,” you hiccup.

For the smallest second William thinks about refusing. About stopping himself.

You swallow, your heart thudding in your arteries.  “I think, I-”

He bites down harshly, whining as your blood spills into his mouth like honey. 

You scream, your back arching as the sensation flows along your body and pushes you over the edge with one swift hit. 

Pleasure pumps into your veins, spiralling and twisting, making you shake and writhe. You grip him tight, squeezing your legs and arms around his back as he pistons his hips and swallows your blood. 

Your body sings, your orgasm stretching on and on and he keeps feeding. 

William groans, thrusting twice before he spills deep inside, filling you with his cum as he drinks. He pulls his mouth away a fraction and slices his tongue against his teeth before licking his own blood over your wound. He’s drunk more than he normally would, but hardly more than a blood donation. 

Your skin tingles, tightens over the puncture marks before they heal over, leaving nothing more than a very faint scar. 

William stays close, lazily lapping the last drops from your neck as he softens inside you. He’s purring slightly, a small vibration echoing from his chest as the sweat cools on your skin and your breathing returns to normal. 

You lift your head up to look at him, with his dark, dark eyes. His teeth have retracted back, his face flushed and warm. 

He watches you slowly before leaning forward and kissing you softly, the purring in his chest growing when you reciprocate. 

“You’ll let me do that again, won’t you?” His voice is low, thick with want and you’re not sure if he mean fucking you or drinking from you, or both. 

But you nod anyway. 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces

 @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin

@reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr 

@spxctorsslxt @novarosewood @pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 

@sub-aro @killerdollz @maplemind  @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist 

@dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious @homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop 

@oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 

@pigeonmama @marcsb1tch @iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan

 @faretheeoscar@lonelyisamyw-0love  @queerponc @twwcs @Spnwhore2430 

@ominoose @ierofrnkk @have-you-seen-my-sanity @to-be-a-sunshine

@blushingrn @missdictatorme @musicalnacho @ingoldthewizard

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Honestly, the torture scene in s3 still fucks me up a little sometimes. Steve gets beaten. . .Robin punched, and them both tied up and drugged without their consent. And that moment where Steve gets thrown back into the room, unconscious, and Robin calling out his name with fear in her voice. . .thinking he's dead. I don't know, man, it's fucking heavy. I mean, all of what they went through is fucking crazy. My mind keeps coming back to this scene. . .to the Russian threatening to pull off Steve’s fingernails. . .to him touching Steve softly to make him feel even more uncomfortable. . .this is why I can easily believe that Steve and Robin sleep platonically in the same bed and I know sometimes they hold each other after a nightmare, why I know that when the one wakes up first, they make sure to check the other person's pulse just to make sure they're alive. I know they probably laugh it off but I know it's fucked them up a little. And sometimes, I write that they smoke weed in fanfictions but not often because I know that they just might not go there again. . .

[crimsonwolf715]

Adjusting

(Part 4 of Adventures of the Batfamily)

Jason’s making toast after patrol, so around midnight. He grabs a butterknife and starts poking at the butter while waiting for his toast to finish. Once his toast is done, he pulls it out and starts putting butter on it. Someone grabs his shoulder, startling Jason. He has the knife at their throat in an instant on reflex. Dick looks surprised and concerned, his hand still on Jason’s shoulder. 

Jason lowers the knife and sighs. “Don’t sneak up on me.” 

He grabs the toast and heads upstairs without another word. He eats the toast while gathering clothes so he can shower. After showering, Jason starts reading. He looks up at the clock after reading for a while. Three in the morning and he’s nowhere near tired. 

Sometimes I wish that I was willing to get medicated for my terrible insomnia.  

“Jason!” Jason hears Bruce cry out, like he’s in pain. 

He reacts before he even has time to think about it. He drops his book and rushes to Bruce’s room, pushing the door fully open. Bruce is still in bed, shaking like a leaf. Jason walks over and Bruce opens his eyes. 

“Jason?” Bruce asks. 

“Hey,” Jason says hesitantly. 

“My baby.” Bruce pulls him into a rib crushing hug. 

What the actual hell is happening right now?  

“You okay, Bruce?” Jason asks. 

“Yes. You’re back, I’m fine,” Bruce says slowly, then lets Jason go. 

Jason notices Tim in the doorway. “You handled that better than Dick did the first time he saw it.” 

“I feel like my brain shut off,” Jason says. 

“That may be why you reacted better, but you still did,” Tim replies with a shrug. “You need anything, Bruce?” 

“No, I’m okay. You two should go back to sleep,” Bruce answers. 

“Come on. We can talk in the hallway.” 

Jason walks outside with Tim. 

“Is he okay?” Jason asks. 

Tim shrugs. “He has nightmares. Some are about your death, others are about other traumatic things that have happened. He’s got PTSD, so it’s not surprising. He’ll be okay if you don’t go running. I try to get there within a reasonable time, but it’s not necessary to run. Unless he’s yelling, he won’t wake up before you get there.” 

Jason nods. “You sure are calm about this.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been dealing with this since I started as Robin. He used to wake up and think that I was you. Usually, that didn’t end well. Since Dick came back into his life and Damian showed up, it hasn’t been so bad. It doesn’t happen as frequently. Alfred will take care of it sometimes.” 

“Speaking of the murder baby, where is he?”

“He’s at Jon’s house,” Tim answers. “Bruce lets him go over for sleepovers as long as Superman isn’t there that night.” 

“Beef with Superman?” 

“Kinda. Supes isn’t really great to the kids in his life. Kon and Jon. Bruce just doesn’t want to give Damian an opportunity to kill Superman.” 

“Huh, probably not a bad call.” 

“I think I’m gonna go back to bed though,” Tim says. “I’ve got therapy and if I seem too tired, I’ll get grilled about my sleeping habits again.” 

“ ‘Night, Tim,” Jason says. 

“Goodnight, Jason. Try not to think about that too much. He’s fine.” 

Jason watches Tim walk back to his room, then walks back to his own room. He picks his phone up to check the time and notices that Dick texted him, but chooses to ignore it for the moment. 

I’ll respond to him later, once I’ve gotten some sleep.  

He climbs into bed and stays awake thinking about the events of the last hour for another hour before he falls asleep. 

Later that day around 4:30 pm

Dick walks into the cafe and looks around. His eyes fall on Barbara and he smiles. He walks over and pulls the chair around so he can sit directly next to her. 

“Hey,” she says. 

He leans his head against her and she pats his shoulder. 

“What happened?” she asks. 

“I… I triggered Jason’s trauma and he’s been avoiding me since,” Dick answers. 

“How long has it been?” 

“I visited last night for dinner and it happened then.” 

“Maybe try going to talk to him once we’re done here.” 

“But can’t I just stay with you?” 

“No. I’m doing girl’s night with Stephanie and some others.” 

“Damn it.” 

Barbara starts running her hand through Dick’s hair. He allows himself to stay like that for a couple minutes, then sits up. 

“I don’t want to ruin the mood of our date anymore.” 

“Well, I’m always willing to listen and give wonderful advice.” 

Dick sighs. “What would I do without you?” 

“Melt. Like the Wicked Witch.” 

The two laugh, then get to talking about their lives and Dick’s job in Blüdhaven. Dick looks at his watch after a while. 

“Ah, I gotta go. I’m expected at dinner in like an hour and I have to talk to Jason. Do you want me to get you another drink before I leave?” 

“Yes, please. I want one for the road.” 

After getting Barbara another drink, the two kiss then head their separate ways. 

Tim walks out of the therapy office and Stephanie’s waiting. 

“Hey,” Stephanie says. 

“Hey,” Tim echoes, then yawns. 

“Long night?” 

“Long morning. I’ll be glad for coffee.” 

The two start walking towards their usual coffee shop. 

“Which person?” Stephanie asks. 

“Bruce,” Tim answers. “I talked to Jason for a bit, but Bruce woke me up.” 

They walk in silence for a bit, focusing more on the road than conversation. Once they get to the coffee shop and order, they take a seat. 

“So how was therapy?” 

“It was therapy. I can tell with one hundred percent certainty, Bruce and the others could benefit from it.” 

Stephanie nods. The barista calls out Tim’s name, so the two go and get their coffees. They chat for a while about school, work, and all the other little things. Tim’s grateful to have Stephanie to talk to about all the craziness in his life. 

“So, how’s everyone been dealing with Jason being back? He’s been back for like a month and a half, right?” 

Tim nods. 

“Everyone’s taking it as well as they can. Damian acts like he may have met him before with how casual he is with Jason. I’m not really sure what’s going on there. Dick’s been doing surprisingly well considering he decked Jason the first time he saw him after he found out. Bruce seems hesitantly thrilled. Like he’s worried if he acts too excited, that Jason will disappear again. Alfred’s pretty normal considering everything. Seems a little happier when Jason shows up to meals, but is otherwise normal. I’m dealing with it fine. I dealt with all the ‘he tried to kill me’ stuff pretty quickly considering everyone’s attempted it. It’d be weirder if I got a new brother, and he didn’t try to kill me.” 

“Well, at least everyone’s adjusting. Barbara was worried you guys wouldn’t be able to adjust properly.” 

“Probably something Dick said then. He’s… He’s got a lot of guilt when it comes to Jason, so it isn’t helping. Speaking of which, are you gonna be able to come over for dinner?” 

“No, I’ve got girl’s night,” Stephanie answers. 

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot that was today,” Tim replies. 

Stephanie laughs. “I’ll come help mediate family dinner tomorrow.” 

Tim sighs. “No need to mediate. It’ll just be us kids outside of Dick tomorrow.” 

Stephanie raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe you will need to mediate. That may turn into a thing.” 

Stephanie nods. “I need to go though. I have to get home, get ready, and then get to the place. So much traveling.” 

“I can drive you if you want,” Tim says. 

“Nah, it’s okay,” Stephanie replies, “but you behave yourself.” 

“No promises.” 

The two hug, then head in opposite directions back home. 

Dick knocks on Jason’s bedroom door. “Hey, Jason?” 

Jason looks up. “Yeah?” 

“Can I talk to you?” 

“Why couldn’t you?” 

“I thought you were angry with me.” 

“About last night?” 

Dick nods. 

“No. I’m not mad about that, Dickhead. I trigger my own trauma and I know what triggers me. Come here.” 

Dick walks into the room and sits down next to Jason. 

“You’re stupid, I hope you know that,” Jason says. 

“Only sometimes,” Dick replies. “I brought you cookies.” 

“Wow, you felt really guilty. You never used to do this kind of shit unless you felt horrible.” 

Dick sighs and looks at his hands, which are placed in his lap. “I wanted to apologize.” 

“For? I just said that I even trigger my trauma sometimes.” 

“I know it looks like I just like our other siblings better because I treat them differently than I treated you, but that isn’t the case.” 

Jason leans back, putting his weight on his hands. “Yeah, it does feel like that. I begged you to spend time with me and you refused. Damian barely has to ask for you to come driving thirty minutes to take him anywhere. You’ve shown up for Tim whenever he’s asked. I watched you guys for so long and you never once denied them unless you absolutely had to.” 

“I know, but what happened with you is why I spend so much time with them. You left this gaping hole in my life and I hated the way that everything happened. Yeah, I originally spent so much time with them out of guilt, but I love them. I lost so much and while Bruce fixed some of that, it didn’t fix the rest of it. I’m sorry that things happened the way they did.” 

Jason moves his arms so he drops onto his bed. “We’re screwed up, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah.” 

Dick puts the box of cookies on the nightstand. 

“Eh. I forgive you, I guess,” Jason says. 

“Thanks,” Dick replies. “I promise that I’ll do better now.” 

“You’d better. I’m not begging you to do shit with me.” 

Dick nods. The two sit in comfortable silence for a while. Jason keeps poking Dick, which he ignores entirely. Dick’s phone dings, so he picks it up. 

“Alfred wants to know what we want for dinner,” Dick says. 

“Umm… I don’t care as long as I don’t have to cook it,” Jason says. 

“I’m gonna tell him that you’re indecisive.” 

“Well, he’ll take that at face value so I don’t care. Can you do something for me?” 

Dick turns back to look at Jason. “That depends on what it is.” 

“Can you hold me accountable? I know I don’t completely agree with you guys, but just make sure that I don’t go overboard.” 

“So you’re asking me for help on hero work?” 

Jason nods. 

“I’ll do it. You just have to promise me that if I say you’re going overboard, that you take a good look at what you’re doing. If you can’t, then my judgment overrules however you feel about it.” 

“You got it, boss.” 

Dick’s phone dings again, so he looks at it. 

Tim: We’re having pizza. Tell Jason thank you.  

“Not really sure why, but Tim told me to tell you that he’s thankful,” Dick says. 

“We’re having pizza then,” Jason replies. 

Tim: Also, come down. We’re setting the table for dinner and Bruce got back.  

“Come on. We’re setting the table and annoying our father by saying hello all at the same time.” 

Dick and Jason head downstairs where Tim and Damian are setting the table. 

“Hey, Dami. When did you get back?” Dick asks, ruffling his hair. 

“This afternoon,” Damian answers. 

“How did I miss you?” 

“How did you miss me?” Damian asks, not looking at Dick as he keeps setting out napkins.

Dick shrugs. 

“I was in my room with my animals and you went straight into Todd’s room when you came in.” 

“That tracks.” 

Once the pizza gets there, everyone settles down at the table to eat. The first ten minutes are mostly in silence. Finally, Bruce breaks the silence. 

“How was everyone’s day?” Bruce asks.

“Mine was fine,” Jason answers. “I just stayed at home all day.” 

“Fine,” Tim answers with a shrug. “Stephanie’s doing well too.” 

“I just had a date, so not a lot to report,” Dick answers. 

“You know what? I do have something,” Jason says. “Dick’s so dramatic. I forgot to respond to his text and he thought I was angry with him.” 

“It’s more complicated than that and you know it,” Dick replies, pointing his fork at Jason. 

“Don’t threaten your brother with your fork,” Bruce says. 

Dick puts his fork down, but still glares at Jason. Jason’s smiling. 

“This argument is stupid,” Damian says. “You already knew that Grayson was sensitive, it’s not new for him.” 

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not.” 

“Damian’s just being honest,” Tim replies with a shrug. 

“You guys are so mean,” Dick says, not serious at all. 

He smiles as he watches Jason and Tim bicker about something while Damian’s conversing with Bruce. They’ll get through this, all of them.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 27 - Starchild Rising

<- previous chapter | masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter ->

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Genevieve!” Genevieve’s mother called out, her eyes flickering with joy in the sunlight. “Don’t go too far!”

“I won’t!” Her little voice carried far in the wind. May was Genevieve’s favorite month of the year, despite being born on the spring solstice in April, because the flowers bloomed after it rained all April, and the fields cleared for her to run through. “I promise, mama!”

And the little girl laughed as she ran, her bare feet sinking into the soft earth as the sun bathed the world in golden warmth. Genevieve’s heart soured with the freedom of youth, her long hair flowing like ribbons behind her. The world felt boundless, safe. The meadow stretched endlessly before her, the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the hum of bees. In this place, everything was perfect, untouched by darkness. 

She darted between the tall grasses, her giggles echoing in the open air. Her small hands reached for the wildflowers, gathering them in bunches of color—violet purples, lily whites, poppy reds. 

Her mother’s voice was distant now, but Genevieve paid it no mind. She felt invincible. The sky seemed as endless as her dreams, and the meadow was a world where nothing could go wrong. 

But the memory, vivid in her unconscious mind, suddenly darkened. The sunlight dimmed as if clouded by an unseen force. The flowers in her hands faded to black and withered, turning brittle and dry, crumbling to ash. The wind, once warm and inviting, turned cold, biting at her skin. 

“Genevieve!” Her mother’s voice, once filled with joy, was sharp now, almost panicked. “Genevieve, come back!”

The little girl turned to run back toward the sound of her mother’s voice, but the meadow had changed. The grass was no longer soft, but sharp and thorny. It cut at her feet, leaving trails of blood behind. She stumbled, fear swelling in her chest as the world around her seemed to close in. 

Her mother was nowhere to be seen. 

“Mama!” she cried out, but only the cold wing answered her. The vibrant colors of the world faded to gray, the sky turning an oppressive shade of stormy black. 

Suddenly, there was a figure in the distance—a shadowy form in dark purple robes with blood red eyes that loomed large, watching her. This was no longer a memory but a nightmare, but Geneiveve, even in this child form, could feel the malice emanating from it. She backed away, her heart pounding, but her feet wouldn’t move fast enough. 

A voice, deep and menacing, whispered through the air, “you will never be free.”

Genevieve’s breath came in panicked gasps as the shadow advanced. The ground beneath her feet cracked open, and she fell, tumbling into darkness. 

The last thing she heard before the ground closed up around her, and the darkness consumed her, was her mother's voice, faint and filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry, my starchild…” 

Genevieve’s body twitched in the present, her unconscious form lying broken and battered. The fever dream blurred the lines between past and present, pain and memory. Until she shot up in her bed. 

 A horrid cough wracks her body for a second, before she immediately pushes the covers off of herself and attempts to stand, startling Xaden out of his wide eyed trance. Clattering to the floor, Genevieve’s shaking hand made contact with the nearest trash bin and pulled it in close, throwing up stomach bile and tears. 

Xaden was on her in seconds, his hands steady as they rubbed her back in slow, comforting circles. “Gen, you’re safe,” he whispered, though his voice was thick with worry. She could barely hear him over the sound of her own retching. 

Her body convulsed, violently rejecting whatever remnants of the poison still lingered in her system. Her hands shook uncontrollably, her vision blurred with tears and nausea. The taste of bile stung the back of her throat, and her chest heaved with every gasping breath. 

When the heaving finally subsided, Genevieve slumped forward, trembling, her forehead resting against the cool metal of the trash bin. her entire body felt weak, drained, like every ounce of energy has been ripped from her veins. 

“Here,” Xaden’s voice was closer now, softer. He crouched beside her, holding out a glass of water that he had clearly been holding onto for hours—no, days, in hopes that she would wake up and take it from him. She flinched at his touch, her mind still reeling from the nightmare, from the searing pain that had held her captive. 

“Don’t—” Her voice cracked, rough like sandpaper and barely above a whisper. She couldn’t even meet his eyes, couldn’t even bear to see whatever mix of emotions he might be feeling—anger, guilt, maybe even pity. She wanted none of it. 

“Don’t what? What’s wrong?” His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something more. Desperation? Fear? It was hard to tell. 

“Don’t touch me,” She croaked, pulling herself away from him, even though every muscle in her body screamed in protest. Her arms shook as she tried to push herself off the floor, but she didn’t make it far before she collapsed once more, tears stinging her eyes. “What even happened?”

Xaden hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering near her back before he withdrew it slowly, respecting her wish for space. His jaw tightened as he looked down at her, the weight of the situation crashing over him like a wave. “You… saved Violet,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “You nearly died doing it.” 

Genevieve squeezed her eyes shut, her breath hitching as memories of the battle of Liam’s last words, and of Violet’s pale, dying face came flooding back. Her fingers curled into fists, nails biting into her palms. “Liam…?” She didn’t dare ask, didn’t want to hear the answer, but she couldn’t stop herself. 

Xaden’s expression darkened, the weight of his silence crushing her. “He’s gone, Genevieve,” he said after a long pause, his voice barely above a whisper. “He… he made sure you got to Violet. He knew what it would cost.”

The room seemed to close in around her, the air suddenly thick and suffocating. Genevieve shook her head, denying the truth, her heart shattering anew. “No… no, no, no.” Her voice broke, and she pressed her hands to her forehead, trying to stifle the sobs rising in her throat. 

Xaden knelt beside her again, close but not touching, his own grief etched in the hard lines of his face. “I’m sorry, Gen,” he murmured, his voice softer than she had ever heard it. “Liam… he knew. He knew what you had to do, and he made the choice.”

Genevieve shook her head violently, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I should’ve saved him,” she choked out, her voice thick with guilt and regret. “I promised him. I promised I’d save him and Violet, and I—I couldn’t… I couldn’t save him” 

“You did what he asked, Genevieve,” Xaden said, his tone firm, but still gentle enough to not startle her. “He didn’t want you to stay. He wanted you to save her. He wanted you to live.” 

Genevieve couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer, her body wracked with the force of her grief. The weight of everything she had lost—Liam, her friends, even pieces of herself—was too much to bear. She had done what Liam asked, but at what cost? She had sacrificed a part of her life force to Violet, and now… now she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel whole again.

“Genevieve—” Xaden moved to catch her before she could fall fully, his grip firm but not overbearing. He didn’t let her fall, but he also didn’t force her to stay. “You need to drink the water.” 

She wanted to push him away, to shout at him, to scream that none of this was fair. That the world had twisted her, torn her apart, and left her with nothing but ashes and the guilt of the lives she couldn’t save. But the words wouldn’t come. The fight was gone, replaced by a hollowness so deep it consumed her. 

“You should have let me die.” The words slipped out, unbidden, harsh, raw. 

Xaden’s expression hardene. “You don’t get to say that.” His voice was sharp now, cutting through the lingering fog in her mind. “Not after what you’ve been through. Not after everything they’ve done to keep you alive.” 

She laughed bitterly, hand moving to her head to ease the headache that still persisted, though her laugh was more sounding like a wheeze than anything. “Keep me alive for what, Xaden? To keep fighting? to be fed more lies? To watch more people die? I couldn’t even save—” Her voice cracked, and she had to swallow down the tears. Now Xaden knows that she remembers everything. “I couldn’t save him.” 

Xaden’s eyes darkened, shadows flickering across his face as her words cut through the room like jagged glass. He sat back slightly, his jaw clenching tight. “Don’t do that, Genevieve. Don’t blame yourself for Liam’s death.” 

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, the exhaustion melting away just enough to let the raw anger, the pain, and the guilt rise to the surface. “How can I not? I promised him, Xaden. I promised that I would go back, that I would save him once I saved Violet. I was supposed to get him out alive, and now he’s gone.”

Xaden’s hand hovered just shy of touching her shoulder, like he wanted to comfort her but knew she would recoil. His voice was low and steady, but there was an edge to it—sharp, but forgiving. “Liam made his own choices. We all did. And I won’t let you destroy yourself over something you couldn’t control.” 

Her throat tightened, tears threatening to fall, but she swallowed them back. “You weren’t there,” she whispered. “You didn’t see his face, hear his scream, see the way he looked at me. He trusted me, and I failed.” 

Xaden fumbles for a moment, shoving his hand into his pocket to retrieve a carving of two dragons. The two dragons were unmistakable, the larger one was Tairn, no doubt, but the smaller one wasn’t Sgaeyl or Astrape. It was Deigh. The two dragons stood side by side, each and every scale intricately arranged. 

She turns in his direction, her gaze immediately lockeding on the figurine, and her eyes water. “It’s my fault,” she whispers once more. 

“No, it’s mine. If I had just told you everything sooner, you would have been prepared. Hell, you and Violet probably could have figured out how to kill them.” Xaden’s heart breaks all over again as she swipes at the twin tears with the back of her hands. He sets the carving down in the palm of her good hand. “I know I should have, but I couldn’t bear to burn it. We laid him to rest yesterday. Well, the others did. I haven’t left this room since we got here.” Their gazes collide, and it takes all of his strength not to reach out for her, but he knows he’s the last place she’ll seek for comfort now. “I haven’t left you.” 

“You shouldn’t have brought me back here,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, barely audible. “You shouldn’t have risked everything.”

Xaden hesitated for a moment, then leaned closer. “We didn’t go back to Basgiath, Gen.” 

Her eyes snapped open at that. Confusion clouded her expression as she looked around again, realizing for the first time that the room wasn’t familiar. It didn’t have the cold stone walls of Basgiath. There were no healers bustling around or familiar faces from the war college. Everything was quieter, softer, as if the world outside this room was… peaceful. 

“Where are we?” She croaked, throat still burning. 

Xaden stood, moving toward the window. He didn’t answer immediately, instead drawing back the heavy curtains to reveal the view beyond. Genevieve squinted, her head throbbing, but as her vision cleared, her breath caught in her chest. 

The city outside was familiar. It wasn’t crumbled, so no, it couldn't be… this wasn’t the ruined Aretia she remembered from the rebellion’s devastation. It was rebuilt. The stone towers, the arched bridges, the marketplace teeming with life—it was like a memory of a place that should have been long gone. But it was real, standing tall against the horizon, bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun.

“We’re home,” Xaden said quietly, his back to her as he looked out over the city. “Aretia.” 

Genevieve’s heart stuttered in disbelief. “But… how?” 

He turned to face her, his expression serious but soft. “You know how.”

Genevieve’s breath hitched as she processed his words, her gaze flicking between Xaden and the city beyond the window. Aretia, her home, wasn’t lost. It had risen from cinders and fallen pillars of smoke and ash. 

“You’ve… rebuilt it,” she whispered, barely believing it herself. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, Genevieve didn’t know what to say. The weight of her guilt and her pain still hung heavily on her, but there was something else now, too. A glimmer of hope—fait, but undeniable. 

With some miraculous wave of strength, Genevieve pushed herself to a stand. “Give me like ten seconds to get dressed, and then you have a lot to spill.” 

“Kicking me out of my own room,” he reaches for that sarcastic, teasing tone he used to use with her before… everything flipped upside down. “That's a new one.” 

“Now, Riorson.” 

Ouch. Xaden can’t help but wince. Genevieve never uses his last name. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t like to remember the world her father isolated her from when mentioning Fen Riorson, but he’s always been Xaden to her. The loss feels like a bottomless abyss, a death blow to every ounce of hope he was clinging to in their relationship. “Bathing chamber is through there. Call if you need anything, ok?” He points to the far wall and strides for the exit, swinging his sword over his back on the way out. 

As he leaves, Bodhi is leaned up against the wall, talking to Garick, who’s boasting a new six-inch scar from temple to jaw, but they both fall silent as he shuts the door behind him. They tense and Garrick stands to his full height. “She’s awake.” 

“Thank Amari,” Bodhi says, his shoulders sagging. His arm is still in a sling, recovering from the four places a venin fractured it. 

“And the poison? Is her hair still all weird?” Garrick asks, concern in his eyes. He’s already told Xaden that he thinks the effects will be temporary, or won’t really affect her on a daily, but the real worry is for Xaden’s mental state if she doesn’t forgive him for not telling her sooner. 

“The black is mostly faded from her hair, just a few streaks here or there,” Xaden shrugged, glancing back at the door to his room which held the very girl they were talking about. “Any word from the fliers?”

“Syrena is alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Bodhi answers. “So is her sister. But the rest…” He shakes his head. 

At least they made it out, and now that Genevieve is awake, Xaden can finally breathe. “You figure out that that box was that Chradh was drawn to back at Resson?” He asks. Garrick’s dragon is apparently remarkably sensitive to runes, which allowed them to retrieve a small iron box beneath the rubble of the clock tower Violet had blown up. 

“No clue. They’re working on it right now. Hopefully we’ll have an answer in the next couple of hours. I’m glad she’s all right, Xaden. I’ll tell Violet and the others.” He nods once and heads down the hall confidently, knowing the castle lay out almost as well as Xaden does, considering he spent every summer in this very building, in this wing, before the apostasy.

Bodhi wrinkles his nose. 

“What?” 

“No wonder she kicked you out. You smell like dragon ass.” 

“Fuck off,” But he catches a whiff, and can’t argue. “I’m using your room.”

“I’ll consider it a personal favor, your majesty.” Bodhi snickers. 

Xaden flips him off, and heads to his room. 

—----------------------------------------

An hour later, Xaden is bathed and impatiently waiting outside of his own room in a fresh set of leathers with Bodhi, who’s doing his best to lighten Xaden’s irrevocably dark mood like he always is, when the door opens and Genevieve is just standing there. 

He nearly swallows his tongue at the sight of her unbound, damp hair curling just above her shoulders. She awkwardly glances between Bodhi and Xaden, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her own fresh set of leathers, that was definitely not originally hers. 

Bodhi grins, flashing a smile that looks exactly the same way Xaden’s aunts used to. “Good to see you up and about, Hale.” Then he smacks Xaden on the shoulder as he walks off, looking back over his shoulder. “I’ll go fetch the backup plan. Good luck.” 

She looks back at Xaden, and with her good arm, she struggles to put her hair up into a bun, before just huffing in annoyance. “I would normally just have Violet do it,” she grumbles. “Well, come back in, you’ve got shit to explain.” 

“As long as you've invited me.” He walks in, loathing the distrust and discomfort in her eyes. 

Genevieve moved toward the small wooden desk by the window—his small wooden desk by the window—her steps slow and deliberate, her body still aching from the aftereffects of the poison and the battle. She sat down with a quiet exhale, her gaze fixed on the city beyond the glass, not looking at Xaden as he approached. 

Xaden took a cautious step into his own bedroom, unsure of where to begin. His mind raced with everything he needed to explain—why they had left Basgiath, why they had come here, the rebellion, the secrets he had kept from her. The weight of it all pressed down on him, and for a moment, he wondered if any of it would matter. Would she ever trust him again?

“Is this all original?” She asks, her gaze sweeping over his bedroom. 

“The majority of the fortress is stone,” He says as she studies the detailed arches at the ceiling, the natural lighting from the windows that consume the western wall. “Stone doesn’t burn.”

“Right.” She nods. “And my manor…?”

Xaden’s gaze flickered with hesitation before he answered, his voice low and cautious. “It’s in ruin, abandoned, Genevieve. No one has touched a single thing since you were taken.” He watched as her face tightened, but she remained silent, staring out the window as if the city beyond could give her back what she had lost. 

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, he thought she might lash out, but instead, she let out a long, shaky breath, as if steeling herself for the inevitable truth. “So, nothing from my old life remains,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. 

“The manor is still standing, but not of use, no.” His throat felt tight, knowing that her entire world had crumbled in ways she hadn’t even been conscious of. “But we salvaged some things. I had them brought here.”

That got her attention. She turned slowly to face him, a flicker of curiosity cutting through her otherwise guarded expression. “What things?”

“Personal items. A few heirlooms. I couldn’t save much, but your father’s journals… they’re intact.” 

Genevieve blinked, a brief flicker of emotion crossing her face before it was gone, replaced by the same hollow exhaustion she had carried since waking. She glanced away, the weight of her father’s legacy hanging in the air between them. 

“The journals,” she echoed softly, her voice distant. “Of course.”

”I can get them for you if—”

“No.” Her voice was sharper than she intended, and she shook her head quickly. “Not now. I… I can’t deal with that right now.” 

Xaden nodded, not pushing any further. He could see how much it took just to stay upright, to focus on the conversation. “That’s fine. Whenever you’re ready.” He swallows. Hard. “I think after all you’ve seen, the question I have to ask before I tell you anything more is pretty simple. Are you in? Are you willing to fight with us?” She could just as easily decide to turn them all in. She didn’t know enough to condemn him before, but she does now. 

“I’m in,” She nods, her eyes narrowing at the mere prospect of the question. 

Relief surges through him in a rush more powerful than anything he could channel from Sgaeyl, and he reaches for her. “I’m so sorry I had to keep…” His words die on his tongue as she steps back, avoiding him. 

“Not happening.” A world of hurt flashes in her light eye, and he withers. “Just because I believe you and am willing to fight with you doesn’t mean I’ll trust you with my heart again. And I can’t be with someone I don’t trust.” 

Something in his chest crumples. “I’ve never lied to you, Gen. Not once. And I never will.” 

She stands at the window and looks down, then slowly turns back to him, her hand snaking around her ribs as if trying to ease some pain or pressure. “It’s not even that you kept this from me. I get why you did it. It’s the ease with which you did it. You let me love you, you let me trust you with my heart, and promised it in return.” She shakes her head, and he sees it there, the love, but it’s masked behind defenses he had once crumbled but now foolishly rebuilt. “And you didn’t give me it in return.” 

But he loves her, of course he loves her, he loved her months ago and he loves her now, but if he tells her now, she’ll think he’s saying it for all the wrong reasons. And honestly, he is. But he will not lose the only woman he’s ever fallen for without a fight. “You’re right. I kept secrets,” he admits, pressing forward again, taking step after step until he’s less than a foot from her. He palms the glass on both sides of her head, loosely caging her in, but they both know she could walk away if she wanted. But she doesn’t move. “It took me a long time to trust you, and an even longer time for me to realize I fell for you.” 

Someone knocks, they ignore it. 

“Don’t say that.” She lifts her chin, but he doesn’t miss the way she glances at his mouth. 

“I fell for you,” he lowers his head and looks straight into her gorgeous eyes. She might be rightfully pissed, but she sure as Malek isn’t fickle. “And you know what? You might not trust me anymore, but you still love me.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“You reminded me why I don’t give out my trust easily, and it will be very hard for me to give it to you again.” She masks the hurt with a quick blink, a perfect porcelain mask slipping right into place. 

Never again, Xaden thinks. Those eyes will never reflect the hurt I’ve inflicted ever again. 

“I fucked up by not telling you sooner, and I won’t even try to justify my reasons. But now, I’m trusting you with my life—with everyone’s lives.” He risked it all just by bringing her back here instead of taking her body to Basgiath. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know and everything you don’t. I’ll spend every single day for the rest of my life earning back your trust if it means I get to spend it with you.” 

Genevieve blinks. She’s forgotten what it felt like to be loved, really truly loved. And he’d forgotten as well. It’s been so many years since his father died. And his mom… not going there. But then Geneiveve gave him those words, gave him her trust, her heart, and he remembered. She remembered, too. He’d be damned if he doesn’t fight to keep it. 

“And if it’s not possible?” 

“You still love me. It’s possible.” Gods, do I ache to kiss her, to remind her exactly what we are together, but I won’t, not until she asks. “I’m not afraid of hard work, especially not when I know just how sweet the rewards are. I would rather lose this entire war than live without you and if that means I have to prove myself over and over, then I’ll do it. You have my heart, and I’m keeping yours.” 

Her eyes widen, as if she’s finally seeing the resolve within him. 

It’s time she knew everything. Knowing Genevieve, he knew she wouldn’t stay tucked away, safe behind Basgiath’s walls, especially not now that she knows just how corrupt those walls are. And whether or not he likes it, Violet is going to come along as well. 

She’ll fight this war at his side. 

There’s another insistent knock at the door. 

“Fuck is she impatient,” he mutters. “You have about twenty seconds to ask a question, if I know her.” 

She blinks. “I’m still hoping that the missive at Athebyne was really about the War Games. Do you think there's any chance we just happened to end up in the middle of a wyvern attack at that outpost?” 

“That definitely wasn’t an accident, my girl,” she says from the doorway. 

Xaden sighs and moves to the side, watching Genevieve’s eyes widen as she sees her standing in the doorway. “Told you I knew someone better than Nolon,” He says softly. 

“Mother?” She stares at the woman in the doorway, her own mouth open in shock. 

Aviva Hale just grins and opens her arms. 

“Oh, my starchild, what have they done to you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

And that's a wrap on the main chapters of Fourth Wing!! We will have one more chapter, a brief epilogue will be posted on Saturday and then my longer final notes will be posted along with that.

What did we think? Good plot twist? I don't think anyone expected her mother to show up (she didn't expect it either-yikes sorry gen). How do we think Genevieve will take her mother's presence? We havent even talked to Violet yet, theres so much to do!

Anyways, thats it for now! I'll see you with the epilogue on saturday and then that will be a wrap on the wounded healer! As always, if you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, or kudo, and I'll see you on Saturday!

-------

Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97 , @heeseungthel0ml

[limerental]

ficletvember 2024 - day 12

yennskier post-s2 yucky tender gooiness

Having grown unexpectedly close in the winter spent at Kaer Morhen, Yennefer comes to a realization while in bed one morning with Jaskier.

That morning, Yennefer wakes to the sunrise warming the cold stone walls. The wind whistles through the narrow windows and the dingy old keep creaks and settles, but her bed is piled in furs and she has no obligation to rise and there is a warm body burrowed down beside her, his cheek against her bare shoulder.

Jaskier twitches in sleep, mumbling incoherently, never wholly silent even while unconscious. His messy hair tickles her neck, grown long, and he’s drooling on her from the corner of his open mouth. 

Something about that makes Yennefer feel fond rather than disgusted. She wants to press her fingers back through his tangled hair and kiss him awake, wants to push down the furs to reveal more of his body, her other hand stealing down through the dark hair on his belly. 

She wants to let him sleep a while longer, knowing that lately he’s been plagued by nightmares and bouts of insomnia after everything that happened the past months. He passes off the sleeplessness as bouts of creative fervor, staying up in Kaer Morhen’s dusty library writing drivel in his songbook. Most nights, she stays up with him, offering droll commentary and scathing critique. 

More than once, she’s dozed off in a high-backed chair in the library and woken to found that he’s carried her to bed, wrapped around her with his lips against her neck.

She spends most days in his company, both of them unclear where else they're meant to fit in the keep. The Witchers avoid her, Geralt won’t meet her eyes, and Ciri is curious and friendly enough but overly polite, never asking the questions she really wants to.

Yennefer suffers also nightmares, dark and churning and unspeakable, and every morning, she reaches to pull at a thread of chaos. Just to be certain that she still can.

Jaskier’s nightmares are often of fire and blood, shackled at the wrists while the flames climb the rafters overhead, broken fingers clawing at a locked door. Sometimes when Yennefer slips into his dreams to momentarily soothe them into something more pleasant, she sees herself with blood spilling down her slit wrists, feels the yawning fear that hollows his stomach. 

At present, his dreams are a fumble of disjointed images, some erotic and some comical with a bizarre overlap between the two. He mumbles something about sphincters and then ducks and his brows furrow, and Yennefer feels a strong and alarming surge of irrational affection for this ridiculous man sleeping beside. 

It makes little sense for the realization to come at that moment. That she loves him. Has fallen in love with him. Despite all his varied flaws or perhaps because of them. His simple, unfettered humanity. His baffling aesthetic choices. His constant whining and waffling. His heart, deep and compassionate and always aching a little. His cheeky lewd stupidity and his sincere and cliched candor.

Yennefer loves him.

It’s an unpleasant feeling, rising like acid reflux, because of course, realizing how she feels changes nothing. 

Jaskier couldn’t possibly love her back, not after everything, not being who they are. They’ve tumbled into this arrangement out of circumstance, leaning on each other for comfort and warmth through the long winter on the mountain, but this certainly isn’t his first choice. She’s seen his more pleasant dreams. The ones that span years with Geralt before she met either of them, the achey familiarity of years-long yearning fulfilled, all the right words said, all the old hurts soothed.

And if not Geralt, given the choice of any number of bedpartners across the Continent, would Jaskier ever possibly choose to wake beside her most mornings, the way she’d like to wake beside him.

The truth is that Yennefer is an afterthought, an unexpected pleasure that he’ll indulge in until spring, and then their paths will draw apart, and the cold isolation of her long and lonely life will sink back in again.

Jaskier wakes with his usual suddenness, snorting an interrupted breath, eyes blinking open as he scrunches up his whole face against the light. 

“Heh? Hughhg?” he grunts incoherently and then immediately begins to chatter. “Did I sleep in? Have we missed breakfast? Not missing much I suppose but– I just had the strangest dream about these massive waterfowl on a beautiful lake, and not gonna lie it got me going a-- Eh? Yennefer, why d’you look like that?”

“I don’t look like anything,” she says and rolls away from him, not wanting to know what face she’d been making as he woke.

Jaskier takes the opportunity to sling an arm around her waist and press his warm chest to her back, tangling their legs together as he kisses her shoulder. Not long ago, she may have balked at such open presumption that she would welcome his smothering embrace, but she does welcome it, she craves it. She turns her head to let him kiss her on the mouth, and he rolls his hips in a slow grind against her backside.

“You are not fucking me while thinking about large ducks,” she groans against his lips, feeling his very foolish thoughts pressed into her mind.

“It’s– they were alarmingly erotic!”

“Think about something else,” says Yennefer, and though she doesn’t usually like to impose herself so completely into another’s mind, wary of what she’ll find there, she allows her vulnerable fears to guide her into his thoughts.

Jaskier is thinking about the softness of her hair against his cheek, the scent of her, the sleep-warm feel of her body against his. He thinks how he’d like to wake every morning like this, how it would be enough just to hold her in his arms, to let his arousal fade to distant noise as he noses at her neck.

She hitches up a leg and reaches behind her to grip his hip and draw him to enter her, and his thoughts erupt in a slew of praises, not just for the heat of her cunt but for her raw and visceral beauty, her sharp edges, her pain, her desperate kindness. 

Yennefer feels small as his thoughts wash over her, battered by waves of longing, desire, and through it all a current of she can’t possibly feel this strongly toward little old me.

Idiots, both of them.

“Yen?” Jaskier asks, voice unsteady with alarm, and she realizes that she’s weeping, hot tears rolling to tremble on the ridge of her nose.

“I’m in love with you, you absolute fool,” says Yennefer and immediately wants to hide her burning, tear-streaked face in the pillows and pretend she hadn’t blurted that confession out so simply. 

Jaskier’s hips still.

“Really? Me?”

“No, I enjoy embarrassing myself and lying,” she says, frustrated. “Yes, you.”

“Oh.” An absent hand trails down her belly and back up. Lips mouth against the back of her neck. He resumes rocking up into her body with shallow rolls of his hips. “So would you call this love-making then? Given that I love you back, you wretched witch.”

His voice is hideously fond, his touch gentle, his thoughts a rush of warm elation.

“Call it whatever you’d like,” she says, hoping that he ignores how her voice breaks. She lets a hand fall on his backside with a smack. “Just get on with it.”

Jaskier proceeds to do so for the rest of the morning, brimming with giddy energy, all thoughts of nightmares forgotten by the both of them.