#dees-writing-corner

[writergirl2011]

From the upcoming chapter of when the sun shine, we shine together:

“Brienne?”

She felt an icy dread slide down her spine.  She knew that voice, even though it had been four years since she’d last heard it.  She closed her eyes and didn’t turn toward the sound.  Maybe if she ignored him, she could pretend he wasn’t there and he’d go away.

“It is you, isn’t it?  Brienne Tarth?”

Why the hells did she think such things would ever work?  It wasn’t like there were a ton of ugly six-foot-six women in the world.  Her and Pretty Meris, that was probably about it.  Maybe if she turned around and slugged him, he’d get the hint that she didn’t want to acknowledge his existence because the last thing she needed, today of all days, was to be confronted by someone else from that horrible day.

Knowing she had no other choice, Brienne turned around.

[accidentcache]

daily writing challenge -- day two / imagine a place where you would like to be and write about what you would do there

fall weather. the trees outside have such a beautiful combination of yellow, orange and red, some are soggy and wet from the rain the previous night before. some are crunchy. the road isn't busy, some cars drive by and splash through puddles that land onto the sidewalk.

it's chilly enough for a jacket, not cold enough for a coat. the wind bites at my skin when it picks up but leaves as soon as it arrives. the pads of my fingers are sore from holding onto an umbrella, due to the light drizzle.

the same walk to the cornershop to grab a drink, the same walk back. it's routine, it's schedule, it's normalcy. to them i am a regular, a face among faces; a piece moving the economy in the ever changing tides of money flow. to me, they are a frequency in a heartbeat that lives off caffeine.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

heard it’s good luck 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

Summary: y/n planned to eat twelve grapes under the table. she was in for a surprise.

♡ ln x reader ⋆˙⟡

♡ fluff ⋆˙⟡

masterlist ☾☼

the music pulsed, a rhythmic thump-thump-thump against y/n’s ribs. the party was in full swing, the air thick with laughter and the scent of slightly burnt popcorn (someone had attempted microwave popcorn and failed spectacularly). y/n, however, was on a mission of a different kind. she’d heard whispers of a new year’s eve tradition, something about eating twelve grapes under the table at midnight for good luck in the coming year, and she was determined to try it.

carefully, she’d procured twelve perfect grapes from the snack table, dodging a rogue elbow and a spilled punch in the process. as the clock ticked closer to midnight, she made her way to a large, sturdy table tucked in a quieter corner of the room. she ducked underneath, finding herself in a surprisingly spacious alcove of tablecloth and chair legs. she sat cross-legged, grapes at the ready, a small smile playing on her lips. this was going to be interesting.

just as she was about to pop the first grape into her mouth, a shadow fell across her. she looked up, startled, and saw another person sliding under the table, a bowl of grapes in their hands. and not just *any* person. it was lando.

y/n’s brain short-circuited. lando norris was under the table with her, about to partake in the same slightly ridiculous, undeniably charming tradition. she stared at him, speechless, her carefully planned opening line (“is this thing on?”) dying in her throat.

lando blinked, his eyes widening slightly as he registered who was sharing his grape-eating space. a slow smile spread across his face. “twelve grapes, huh?” he asked, his voice warm and amused.

y/n finally found her voice, though it came out a little breathier than she intended. “yeah,” she said, nodding. “heard it’s good luck.”

lando chuckled. “me too. though i’m not sure how much luck i need now that i’ve already got one wish done,” he joked, wiggling his fingers, a playful glint in his eyes.

y/n laughed, the tension melting away. “you never know,” she said. “maybe it’ll bring you even more.”

“maybe,” he agreed, popping a grape into his mouth. “ready?”

y/n nodded, mirroring his action. as the countdown began, they ate their grapes in unison, a shared smile passing between them with each grape. it was a strange, surreal, and utterly delightful way to start the new year’s eve countdown. under a table, with lando norris, sharing grapes and laughter. y/n couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this year was going to be pretty lucky after all.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

dee, this is for you. i hope you enjoy this! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday ; @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @peterholland04 ; @justaf1girl ; @greantii ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry ; @hiireadstuff ; @opastries81

[surielstea]

Shun the Light

Requested by @dee-writes-smut

Pairing: Helion x Fem!Reader

Summary: Helion has been attempting to get reader into his bed for years now, what happens when she finally gives in?

Warnings: smut | minors dni | fingering | p in v | creampie | controlled orgasm | dom/sub dynamics | so much banter | so much smut | they break a table | they do it on the floor | probably a lot more

A. Note: I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever posted so apologies for the wild word count, but also most of this is smut so you’re very welcome ;)

9.6k words.

Sitting in a large, worn leather chair positioned in a secluded corner of the library, I was half-hidden by towering shelves of books. The room was steeped in quiet, interrupted only by the occasional creak of the shelves under their heavy load or the soft turning of a page. The smell of old parchment mingled with the lingering scent of rich mahogany and leather—a sanctuary of knowledge and peace. And yet, even here, there was no escaping the High Lord.

"You've been avoiding me." Helion's voice cut through the tranquil silence with a casual grace, as he rounded one of the shelves that had been sheltering me. His amber eyes gleamed mischievously as he approached, a book tucked under his muscular arm. I highly doubted it was for actual reading.

"And you've been following me," I replied dryly, eyes fixed on my book. The words on the page blurred slightly, my pulse quickening from the mere presence of him.

"This is my personal library," he countered smoothly, leaning against the shelf, his broad frame casting a shadow over me. His proximity was a cage, yet the alcove still felt oddly cozy. "I'd say you're the one hoping to run into me." He gestured at the books surrounding us, a small portion of his vast collection, his smile all too knowing. "Besides, I happen to like reading."

The soft, golden light from a nearby lamp warmed the deep brown of his skin, making him look almost otherworldly as if carved from the light itself. I forced myself to stay calm, sinking deeper into the chair as I replied, "What book is that, then?" My chin jerked toward the novel he held so proudly, though I leaned back, attempting to appear indifferent.

With one of his signature smirks, Helion pulled the book from under his arm, holding it out like a grand reveal. "The Art of Seduction," he mused, his voice dripping with confidence.

"Subtle," I muttered, tossing him a glare before trying to lose myself in my own book again. The pages held nothing for me, not while Helion loomed over me with that look in his eyes. That ever-present challenge.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't leave. "Thought I could brush up on my skills, seeing as you seem so indifferent to my irresistible charm," he chimed, far too pleased with himself as he slid into the chair directly in front of mine, uninvited.

I narrowed my eyes, fighting back the heat rising in my cheeks. "Really? Out of every seat in this library, you choose that one?"

He shrugged, his casual air too relaxed for someone invading my space. "Well, you've stolen my usual one, so I must make do with lesser options." His lips twitched, eyes gleaming with amusement as he cracked open the book he clearly had no intention of reading, propping his feet up on the low table between us.

I stared, incredulous. "They're the same chair."

Helion gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes flashing with humor. "True, but that one smells like me."

I froze for a moment, my fingers going still against the soft leather of the armrest. The faint, intoxicating scent of sandalwood and bergamot swirled around me, and I cursed inwardly. It was familiar, inescapable, and frustratingly warm, like the High Lord himself. My gaze flicked up to his, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely absorbed in his book, a small line forming between his brows as if the words were the most fascinating thing in the world.

I had to stifle a laugh at the sight. I wasn't sure he'd ever actually read a single page of his vast collection, yet there he was, looking like a scholar lost in study.

We fell into a comfortable silence—Helion reading, or pretending to read, and me half-heartedly flipping through my book, both of us mirroring each other, our feet propped up on the table in an unspoken truce. The moment felt oddly peaceful, and for a brief second, I allowed myself to enjoy it.

But, of course, it didn't last.

Only a few moments later, Helion shut his book with a soft thud, and I felt his foot nudge mine from across the table. I resisted the urge to respond, cursing his long limbs and moving my legs out of his reach, but he persisted—sending a glare of sunlight directly into my line of sight, making it nearly impossible to read.

"Would you stop that?" I snapped, lowering my book and glaring at him from beneath my brows. He only grinned, looking far too pleased with himself.

"What book is that?" he asked as if the answer mattered.

I sighed. "Some random one I found on the shelves." It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth, either.

"Sunshine," he drawled, his voice like velvet as he leaned forward slightly, "I've read every book in this library. That one, I'm not familiar with."

I ignored him, focusing back on my book, though I wasn't reading a single word. The heat from his gaze felt palpable, like sunlight warming my skin.

"What is it?" he pressed again, his voice dripping with faux curiosity. His fingers twitched, and I braced myself as yet another glare of sunlight angled right into my eyes.

"I'm not telling," I muttered, holding up my forearm to shield my face from the assault.

Helion chuckled softly. "I'm commanding you to tell me, as High Lord," he said, the playful light still dancing at his fingertips.

"Why do you care so much?" I grumbled, slamming my book shut with an exaggerated huff.

He leaned back, eyes never leaving mine. "I wish to know what could possibly be more interesting than me." His smirk widened as if the very thought was inconceivable.

I said nothing, my silence was the only answer I was willing to give.

"How about a bet?" he suggested, the gleam in his eyes unmistakable. "If I can make you smile in the next five minutes, you have to tell me what you're reading."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And if you lose?"

Helion's smirk softened into something more sincere. "I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night."

A tempting offer. I considered it for a moment, imagining a night of uninterrupted reading, free from his constant prattling.

"Deal. Five minutes," I said, returning to my book.

For a while, Helion was silent, the ticking clock in my mind counting down the seconds. But knowing him, he probably believed he didn't need the full-time—that one well-timed sentence would be enough.

"You look adorable with your nose stuffed in a book," he murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was softer now, more intimate, like a confession shared in the quiet of a night.

I rolled my eyes. "That's usually what people do in a library."

Helion's smile widened. "And yet, I find myself much more interested in studying you."

"Why don't you leave me alone and go read your book? Maybe you'll learn how to actually charm me," I shot back, trying to ignore the way his words made my pulse race.

"I could recite poetry and still fall short," he sighed dramatically as if I truly had him beat.

Despite myself, a smile tugged at my lips at the absurdity of it all.

"There it is," he marveled, his voice a soft victory.

My fleeting smile turned into a scowl. "That doesn't count. I was smiling at the thought of you leaving me alone."

Helion laughed. "A smile is a smile." He extended his hand, eyes glinting. "So, show me the book."

I look down to the page I was on—to the very erotic scene playing out that I hadn't even realized was happening, too busy pretending to read when he was talking to me to even realize.

"I—no," I murmur, slamming my book shut.

"We had a deal, so unless you want to have permanent bargain tattoos with me, I suggest you hand it over." He quipped and I frowned at the idea of something so permanent on my body being associated with him.

"Fine," I grumble, holding the book out to him with a string of grumbled curses. He takes the book, his fingers brushing over mine—the touch shooting rays of warmth up my arm. I shake it off and settle back into my chair which smelt so strongly of him.

Helion crosses his ankle over his knee, reclining back in his chair with the casual confidence that seems permanently etched into his being. His long, golden fingers lazily flip over my book, turning it to read the back. I watch as his brow arches and the corner of his mouth tugs upward.

"Reading about me, are we?" His voice breaks the silence, low and teasing, pulling my attention from my own thoughts. His gaze flickers up to mine, gleaming with amusement.

My head tilts in confusion, a frown forming. "It's not about you. How self-centered can you possibly get?" I scoff, reaching for the book with a frustrated hand, but he pulls it just out of reach with an effortless motion.

"A king falling for his emissary?" he continues, ignoring my protest. His fingers tap against the page in emphasis. "Sounds familiar, no?"

His eyes, molten gold in the dim library light, lock with mine, a teasing smile dancing on his lips. My pulse quickens, not from the question itself, but from the look on his face—the playful way he studies me like I'm a puzzle to be solved.

"My book, Helion," I demand, extending my arm towards him, though it feels like a futile gesture. He watches me closely, a cat toying with its prey.

"In a moment." He waves off my request with a casual flick of his hand, settling deeper into the oversized chair that barely manages to hold his broad frame. He opens the book, his eyes landing right on the page marked by my ribbon. My heart stutters in my chest. No, no, no. He's going to read that part. I freeze, eyes wide as I watch his expression for any sign of disgust or, worse, judgment.

But there's nothing. His lips curl into a slow smile, amusement dancing in his gaze. "This is far better than I could have ever imagined," he purrs, a wicked light entering his eyes as he lets the book fall closed and tosses it onto the table between us, entirely unbothered.

"I'm doing a book club with the Valkyries. It wasn't my first choice," I mumble quickly, snatching the book back from the table. My fingers are trembling slightly, and I hope he doesn't notice. The truth is, I was mortified.

Helion, of course, doesn't seem fazed by my embarrassment. "No need to defend yourself. Although," he leans back with a leisurely stretch, his muscles rippling beneath his tunic, "I have an entire shelf of erotica in the back that's much better written. And doesn't use words like 'velvet-wrapped steel.'"

Heat floods my cheeks, a fierce blush creeping up my neck. "Shouldn't you be doing High Lord stuff?" I grumble, trying to deflect, my mortification reaching new heights. "Not pestering me?"

"My court is asleep." He shrugs as if the affairs of his court are a mere inconvenience. "Nothing happens in the Day Court after the sun goes down." He huffs like it's a travesty, though there's a gleam in his eye suggesting he prefers it that way. "Well, nothing for the public eye anyway," he adds with a sultry grin, his eyes darkening, his voice dripping with innuendo.

I roll my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "You still have land to rule. People to govern. They don't disappear just because they're asleep." I remind him, though I can't help but let my gaze flicker to the strong line of his jaw, the way his dimples deepen when he smiles.

"Delegation, my dear," he responds, his tone infuriatingly smug. "The key to any successful leader."

"If only you could delegate your need for constant attention," I shoot back, offering a sweet smile that hides my annoyance.

His shoulders slump in an exaggerated show of disappointment, his hand dramatically pressed to his chest. "Well, that just wouldn't work. There's only one person I want attention from."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, the meaning unmistakable. My heart skips a beat, my pulse fluttering in my throat as I force myself to remain calm. I can feel his gaze roaming over me like he's waiting for me to react. My eyes flick over his form, all lean muscle and rich, sun-kissed skin that practically glows in the warm library light. Everything about him radiates confidence—dangerous, seductive confidence.

"And I'm sure she's flattered," I say dryly, snapping my gaze away from his broad chest. "Too bad she's not here to distract you." I shift in my seat, trying to appear unbothered by the way his eyes are lingering on me, though I feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

Helion tilts his head, watching me with that same predatory amusement, as though he's enjoying a game only he knows the rules to. His forearms rest on his spread thighs, and gods, those thighs. I can't help but glance, at his muscles thick and defined. His deep chuckle pulls my attention back to his face.

"Oh, she's here," he muses, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "She just needs to stop pretending I'm not the most interesting thing in this library."

I open my mouth to respond, to shoot back some biting retort, but I'm momentarily speechless, my heart beating a little too fast. Instead, I huff and bury my nose in the book, determined to ignore him. It's unprofessional. He's the High Lord. And I'm his emissary. Even entertaining the idea of his flirting is toeing a dangerous line. Besides, I know Helion's reputation. I'm not interested in being just another conquest, no matter how much he seems to enjoy teasing me.

But gods, he makes it difficult.

"Stop glaring at that book." His voice breaks into my thoughts again, his tone laced with amusement. "Either you're about to throw it into a fire, or you're thinking about something else entirely."

I glance up at him, eyes narrowing. "I'm thinking about how much quieter it would be in here without you."

"This is a library, you know?" I add, flipping a page in a show of indifference.

"Yes, but this library is only open to the public during the daytime. Except for those permitted access." He reclines even further, his fingers interlacing behind his head as he watches me, that maddening grin still plastered on his face.

"And if someone with clearance is in here with you, disrupting their quiet?" I tilt my head at him, matching his smug expression.

He mirrors the movement. "Everyone with clearance is already here. Not even the librarians can come in after hours."

I blink, my mind catching up with his words. And then it hits me. "I'm the only one with permission, aren't I?" My voice comes out soft, the realization settling in.

"Took you long enough," he grins, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

"And how many women did this trick work on?" I grumble, my suspicion growing, even as my pulse quickens under his gaze.

"Just you," he says, and for once, the cocky smile falters into something more sincere.

I snort in disbelief. "It hasn't worked yet," I retort, though my voice sounds weaker than I'd like.

"Yet?" He arches a brow, his gaze flickering over me, daring me to challenge him.

My lips press into a thin line, and I bury myself back in my book, hiding behind the pages. "Go away, Helion." My voice comes out more of a plea than an order, and I curse myself for how breathless it sounds.

"I don't want you to miss me." His tone is snarky, yet something told me he genuinely believed what he was saying. I force myself not to look at him, to not fall for whatever game he's playing.

"Nonsense," I murmur, my cheeks burning. "I'd be too busy enjoying the peace."

Helion sighs dramatically, though there's a glimmer of laughter in his voice. "I'm not sure you're capable of quiet when I'm around. You always have something to say."

He's right, of course, and that's what infuriates me the most. No matter how much I want to ignore him, I can't. There's something about him that pulls the words right out of me.

"It's called defending myself from your constant attempts at flirting," I snap, though I don't dare look up, knowing he's probably biting back another smile.

"And here I was thinking we were bonding." His voice drops, laced with a dark, rich amusement. I glance up just in time to see him run a hand down his thigh, slow and deliberate, as though daring me to watch.

"This is what you call bonding?" I shift uncomfortably in my seat, the tension in the air almost unbearable. "I call it you trying—and failing—to charm me."

"Oh please," he laughs softly, his smile widening. "You've been charmed by me since the day we met. Don't think I haven't noticed the looks you've been sneaking all night."

His words land like a punch to the gut, and I flush, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. I can't tell if I'm mortified because he caught me or because I was staring at all.

"You think too highly of yourself," I mutter, sinking deeper into the chair as if it could swallow me whole. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered I am.

Helion only leans closer, his voice softening, turning almost serious. "You're the only one who thinks too lowly of me."

The sudden shift in his tone catches me off guard, and for the first time tonight, I meet his gaze fully. There's no teasing, no playful glint. Just him, watching me with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs.

I truly tried to focus on what I was reading, but his lingering gaze on me was going to drive me wild. Somehow that stare spoke louder than any words he could've said. He was offering me the silence I wanted, while simultaneously pushing me to insanity. Surely I couldn't get mad at him for simply observing? Yet here I was, nearly fuming at the way he tracked each of my movements.

Eventually, I grow sick of his ogling, so I snap my book closed and turn to him with narrowed eyes. Stop looking at me like that," I order, pushing myself up from the chair that had all but swallowed me. It's identical to the one Helion has turned into his makeshift throne, yet somehow, he manages to own his space with ease.

"Like what?" He rises with me, and I have to crane my neck just to maintain eye contact. Even that, the way I have to look up at him, feels like some small concession.

I stare at him, his features softened by the glow of the candlelight. His usual smirk is nowhere to be seen, and his golden eyes hold no trace of the lust or amusement I've come to expect from him. Instead, they're filled with something even more dangerous—reverence. He looks at me like I'm more than just a passing amusement, more than just a fleeting fancy. Like I'm something precious.

"Like I'm more than just a game to you," I shake my head, tearing my gaze away. The weight of his stare is too much. I toss the book in my hands onto the coffee table with more force than necessary and stride past him, desperate to escape the suffocating tension of our little alcove. I don't trust myself to stay there, not with him looking at me like that.

"You think this is a game?" His voice follows me as I make my way through the dim, quiet library. It's empty, save for the two of us, but somehow, his presence alone fills every corner.

"Isn't it?" I shoot back, unwilling to turn and face him. The memory of his gaze burns too fresh in my mind. "Your reputation for women precedes you, Helion." The words slip out harsher than I intended. It's a low blow, bringing up his past like this, but I need him to understand why I can't—why I shouldn't.

I expect him to brush it off, but instead, he's beside me in a flash, walking in step as though he belongs at my side. "You think I would chase after a female for three years just for sex?" His voice is surprisingly calm, but there's a thread of frustration woven into it. "I've been rejected before, and I always respect it."

I stop in my tracks, staring up at him with creased brows. "Then what makes me so different?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. It's a question I've been avoiding for months, maybe longer. Because deep down, I'm afraid of the answer. I'm afraid of what it might mean—for both of us.

Helion doesn't hesitate. "Because you feel it too." He steps closer, his movements slow, deliberate. The air between us crackles with unspoken tension, and yet I don't move. "This thing between us, you delight in it just as much as I do."

He takes another step forward, closing the distance, and my back hits the bookshelf behind me. Trapped, my breath hitches, but I refuse to show any sign of retreat.

"I'm not going to be another girl you charm for a night and forget by morning," I whisper, my voice barely holding steady. It's a quiet confession, more to myself than to him.

Helion's hand comes up to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheek with an unbearable tenderness. "I wouldn't forget you," he murmurs, shaking his head as if the very idea is absurd.

The proximity is overwhelming now. His warmth radiates off him, pulling me in, and my resolve—what little remains—begins to crumble. My body betrays me, my hands itching to touch him, to feel the strength in the muscles I've tried not to think about for so long.

"Helion,” I murmur, his name a warning, or maybe a plea. I don't even know anymore.

His gaze drops to my lips, his thumb never stopping its gentle, maddening caress. "Tell me, what keeps you from me?" he asks softly, his breath mingling with mine.

My throat tightens, and I remind myself of all the reasons this is a terrible idea. "I would hate myself if I became another one of your conquests." The words come out softer than I intend, laced with the fear I've been trying so hard to suppress.

But Helion doesn't back away. He doesn't laugh or brush it off. Instead, he leans in closer, his voice low and rough. "You're not. And even if you were—with the amount of time I've had to think about you, it'd take months to cross everything I want to do to you off the list." His lips ghost over mine, the barest hint of a touch that sets my skin ablaze.

"Helion," I repeat, the name a broken caution.

"Tell me to stop, I will." He promises, his voice raw with need. He inches closer, only a hairsbreadth away. "Tell me." He whispers, lips ghosting over mine.

I didn't have it in myself to tell him to stop, to even push him away. I wanted this, needed this. I surged upwards and closed the distance between us.

For three years he had been taunting me, teasing me with pretty words and suggestive smiles, and now I was finally giving him what he wanted—and what I have secretly been wanting far longer than he suspects, and it was everything I could've hoped for.

My back pressed harder into the shelf behind me as his chest met mine, while his hands, warm and firm wrapped around my hips, drawing me closer until there was no space between us. My body betrayed my mind, my thoughts warning me to stop, to end this before it was too late, but my hands were running down his muscles chest I've been craving to feel for years, my fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic and pulling him into me, deepening our kiss.

Every touch sent sparks skittering across my skin, and for a moment I allowed myself to drown in him, in the heat of him, his scent, the way he kissed me like he might never get the chance again.

His hands traveled from my hips, beneath my shirt to grip my waist—and the feel of his calloused hands on my bare skin was enough to send me reeling. The kiss grew more frantic, more desperate. His skilled tongue explored every possible inch of my mouth, and I allowed it, reveling in the way he so eagerly tasted me.

When I finally pulled away, breaking our kiss, our breaths coming in ragged gasps I stared up into his dilated pupils, the playful spark I was used to seeing there replaced by something deeper, something that sent both a jolt of fear and excitement through me. He was staring down at me like I was the only thing in the room—hel, like I was the only thing that mattered.

He leans closer, placing an all-too-gentle kiss on the expanse just below my ear. "Helion," I echoed, my fists still clenching his shirt.

"Yeah?" He uttered, his breath hot against my skin as he slowly trailed his lips down my jaw.

"We shouldn't, we can't," I sigh breathlessly, my hand weaving into his hair, tilting my head, allowing him to deepen his kiss.

"Who said?" He murmurs into my skin.

"It isn't professional," I say between breaths, my pulse rapidly fluttering, his tongue flicking over it playfully.

"Do you want to stop?" He asked, pulling away to look me in the eyes and the loss of his contact made something inside me ache.

"I—no, gods no," I profess, my hands wrapping around the back of his neck.

"Then I don't care if it's professional, let me give you what you need," He whispered, his lips brushing mine. "Alright?"

I don't reply, and instead crash his lips onto mine once more, the rest of my defenses crumbling at the action. The kiss was hungrier this time, more demanding. I gave in fully as his tongue found its way into my mouth yet again, my chest arching into his as his hands slipped down to cup the back of my thighs, tapping me twice as a silent command to jump. I did exactly as he wished, wrapping my legs around his torso as he supported me, his touch traveled higher to cradle me by the curve of my ass. He smiled into the kiss, even in the heat of the moment his cocky grin manages to make an appearance.

He pushes off the shelf, blindly guiding us through the shelves and to the center of the empty library, where tables fill the area. He placed me down on the edge of the center table, his hands leaving my backside in favor of exploring new, untouched areas. Heat races through my veins as his hands trailed to the hem of my skirt, slipping beneath it without hesitation, his thumb grazing against the seam of my panties.

"Wait," I pant against his lips and his hand freezes. "Not here," I murmured, pecking his lips softly.

"It's just us in here, remember?" He reassured me when I pulled away, kissing my forehead. "Just us." His lips brush against my skin as he repeats the words and I can feel my resolve slipping. There was no more room for doubt, no more room for fear. All that existed was an overwhelming need to have him, to feel him in every way possible, to lose myself entirely in him until I didn't know where he ended and where I began.

"Just us," I echo, nodding slowly.

"We can stop," He said, despite how clearly he wanted this and was desperate for this.

"No, Helion don't stop," I connect our lips once more, allowing my legs to fall open farther, inviting him.

He forced himself to pull away, to restrain himself from me for just a moment longer. "You're okay with this, then?" He rasped, eyes pure gold.

"Yes," I answered. "Gods, yes." I pulled him into me, his hips meeting mine. His grin turned almost wolfish, primal as he tore through my skirt like it was nothing, discarding the fabric. He pulled me to the very edge of the table, his hands rubbing higher up my thighs, tracing the seam of my panties. I gasped as he pressed two fingers onto my clothed folds, just the right amount of pressure, not enough to get any real gratification from—but gods it still felt good. He smirks against my lips as he feels the damp spot forming on the cloth and I flush in embarrassment.

"I haven't even touched you," He noted aloud, deepening my blush. "Tell me, baby, were you this wet when I was simply talking to you?" He utters between kisses and I fight the urge to sneer at him.

"Do you ever shut up?" I ask, my question genuine. He responds with a searing kiss, which did in fact quiet him.

He couldn't control himself any longer, not with my hands roaming his back, my lips on his. He tore through my undergarments in a similar fashion to my skirt, tossing the wet fabric somewhere unimportant to me. He pulled back from our kiss, and I tugged at his bottom lip to stop him from leaving but he ignored my silent complaint, only to peer down at the apex of my thighs.

He grunted at the sight, his forehead meeting mine as he swiped two fingers through my embarrassingly wet core, his fingers coming back dripping. I throbbed for more, letting out a quiet moan as his thumb came down onto my clit, my head tilted back in ecstasy as he began circling it, his skillful touch setting my skin on fire as his middle finger traced my dripping entrance. I bucked slightly, leaning on my hands behind me as I lifted my hips for more friction.

He chuckled breathlessly, the sound humiliating, while simultaneously making me crave him so much more.

He didn't make me wait long before his own restraint snapped, letting go of that leash he had been gripping so tightly and pushing two of his fingers inside of me.

I moaned at the stretch, louder this time, relishing in the way his calloused fingers scraped against my walls, fitting me around him so perfectly.

He grunted at the sound of my moans, his pace unrelenting as his fingers thrust into me repeatedly, deep and slow. The pressure building inside me had my legs trembling as I spread them wider for him, silently begging for more.

"That's it," he rasped into my open mouth, his voice hoarse with desire. "Doing so well for me." His words were like kindling to the fire already raging in my core, my entire body aching for release. I could barely find the breath to respond, only able to whimper his name.

I bit my lip as he curled his fingers inside me, hitting that sweet spot that had me seeing stars. My eyes squeezed shut, my chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as I tried to hold on, trying not to fall apart too soon, but he didn't seem to like that idea.

His other hand moved up my body, pulling the fabric of my shirt open to expose my breasts. He skillfully unclasped my bra, disposing of it just as he did with the rest of my clothes, leaving me entirely bare. He wasted no time in leaning down and capturing one of my peaked nipples between his teeth. The added sensation had my whole body jerking forward, my fingers tangling in his hair as I gasped.

"Yeah? You like that?" he muttered against my skin, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down my spine. I nodded frantically, unable to form words, as his fingers pumped into me with precision, his thumb pressing down on my clit, moving in tight circles that had me trembling on the edge of oblivion.

I was so close, so damn close, but I didn't want it to end just yet. I tugged on his hair, trying to pull him away from my breast, but he didn't budge. If anything, he seemed encouraged by the way my body was reacting to him, his fingers moving faster, his tongue flicking over my nipple with maddening strokes.

"Gods," I moaned, my head tilting back towards the vaulted ceiling, towards the sky and everything beyond, praying for relief, for that sweet, euphoric high. "Helion—m'close," I confess through a whimper, feeling my body reach its ascent.

"You going to beg for it?" He purred, pulling away from my breast, peering up at me.

"What?" I utter, too lost in my pleasure to even wrap my head around the thought.

"Beg for it." He repeats. "Beg for me to let you come." He reiterates, his voice low, sultry. My arousal increases, I must've been dripping into his hand.

"I'm not—fuck," I hiss as he curves his fingers into that sensitive spot, but not enough pressure to push me over the edge, he was toying with me. "Not g'na beg," I murmur, my body betraying me by trembling under his touch.

"No? Still not ready to admit how needy you are for me?" He tutted, seeming almost disappointed. The tone was degrading in itself, enough to send me reeling—but then his fingers were pulling out of me and he had no intention of thrusting them back in.

I gasped, my resolve shattering as I bucked my hips up desperately. "No—no please," I give in, my body aching for him to fill me again. "Helion, please—"

I stare through low-lidded eyes as a smile slowly spreads across his sensuous lips. "Please what? Tell me what you want."

"Wanna come, please I've needed this for so long," My breath hitched, it was hard to dig the words I've kept buried so deep back up, to confess them not only to him but to myself as well. "I've needed you, for so long."

He leans closer, pecking my lips softly, in such a tender way it made me forget about everything else, about what the court might think, about my fear of being just another game to him. It was only us, connected in every way possible.

"There she is," He pulled back from my lips. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He teased between kisses.

"Helion, please, can I?" I whine, the sound so pitiful I barely recognize it as my own.

"Go ahead love, come on my hand." He rasped, and just like that, the world shattered around me. My orgasm tore through me like a storm, my body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. I cried out his name, my hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the corded muscle there as he coaxed me through every second of it, his fingers never stopping, pushing me higher, deeper into bliss.

When I finally came down, my body limp and trembling, he pulled his fingers from me, his eyes dark with lust as he brought them to his lips. He licked them clean, tasting me with a low, satisfied groan that sent another pulse of heat through me.

"You taste better than I imagined," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, making me shiver despite the warmth still radiating from my core.

But before I could catch my breath, he was already pulling off his clothes, his eyes locked on mine with a hunger that made my heart race all over again.

"You didn't think I was done with you, did you?" he asked, his grin returning as he tugged his pants down, his hardened cock springing free. My eyes widened at the sight, and for a second I debated if he'd even fit.

"Now," he whispered, guiding me off the table so I could plant my feet solidly on the ground. His voice sent a thrill down my spine as he said, "Be a good girl and bend over the table f'me, yeah?"

I slowly turned my back to him, my legs shaky from the intense pleasure still coursing through me, his hands never left my body. They trailed down my sides, strong and possessive, igniting embers of anticipation in their wake. His touch alone had me quivering, but the look in his eyes—dark, feral—made my pulse quicken.

I bent over the table as instructed, the cool wood pressing against my flushed skin. The vulnerable position made my blood heat, but excitement flared deep inside me, mixing with the lingering ache of desire. His breath was hot against my ear as he leaned over me, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my neck.

"That's it, baby," he purred, his fingers trailing teasingly down my spine before settling on my hips, pinning them in place. "So eager to please."

I could hear the sound of his breath hitching, and feel the tension in the air as he lined himself up behind me, his tip nudging at my entrance. I bit my lip, expectancy tightening my body.

He pushed forward slowly, torturously so, letting me feel every inch as he stretched me. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips, and my own whimper joined it, the sensation overwhelming, leaving no room for thought, only the feeling of him filling me completely.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, hands gripping my hips tighter. "So, so tight." His voice sent a wave of need through me, the table was too long for me to find any leverage, I was left stranded between the polished wood and his broad chest, unable to steady myself.

With an impatient, sharp snap of his hips, he pushed into me deeper, granting a gasp from my lips. The suddenness of it sent a shudder through me, pleasure curling through my body in response. He leaned over me again, his mouth grazing my ear. "You feel so good," he rasped, his voice a mixture of lust and satisfaction as he began to move, each thrust deep and slow, drawing out every bit of sensation until I was trembling beneath him.

I couldn't help the moans that slipped past my lips as he built a rhythm, each movement of his hips driving me higher, closer to the edge once again. My back bowed, pressing into his chest and deepening the angle of him, the sensation eliciting a noiseless scream from me.

His hands tightened on my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me back to meet each of his thrusts. Every movement was deliberate, slow but devastatingly deep, as though he wanted me to feel every inch of him, to memorize the way he stretched me, and filled me so completely. The pressure was maddening, making my body tremble beneath him, a delicious torment that left me teetering on the edge but not quite enough to tip over.

His pace quickened, the drag of him inside me was almost too much to bear, and yet not enough all at once. His hands were gripping me so tightly I was sure there would be bruises by morning, but the thought only made me hotter, the idea of his marks on me driving me wild.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the air, each slap punctuated by our ragged breaths. My nails dug into the table's edge, desperate for something to anchor myself to, but every time I thought I could catch my breath, he would change the angle just slightly, hitting that spot deep inside me that sent white-hot pleasure shooting through my veins.

"You sound so perfect moaning my name," He murmured beside my ear. "So fucking perfect for me." His words sent a shiver down my spine, a molten heat spreading through my core. My body was caught in the rhythm he set, each thrust rocking me against the wood of the table, it creaked beneath us, but it was his ragged breaths and the low, guttural sounds he made that had my heart racing, my need climbing higher and higher.

He shifted his grip, one hand moving from my hip to slide up my spine, tracing a line of fire until it fisted into my hair, pulling my head back just enough for his lips to make contact with the most sensitive spot on my neck, sucking on the area hard. "I want to hear you," he demanded, voice low and rough against my throat. "I want to hear you fall apart for me."

I moaned loudly in response, the sound raw, desperate, as his hand tugged harder, pulling my back into a deeper arch. My entire body was taut, every nerve lit up under his command. His other hand slid around to my front, fingers finding the aching bundle of nerves between my legs, circling it with relentless precision.

The duel stimulation nearly broke me. My body jerked beneath him, every muscle tightening as I fought to hold back, but it was a losing battle. The pressure was building again, faster this time, harder, threatening to unravel me completely.

"That's it," he murmured, his fingers speeding up in sync with his thrusts. "I can feel you, baby. You're close, aren't you? So close to coming all over my cock."

I was. I was so desperate, I could hardly think, my mind a haze of nothing but him—his voice, his hands, his cock twitching inside me. My breaths came out in shallow gasps, each one forced from me by the sensation of his fingers working me toward the brink.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice like gravel, rough and impatient. "Let go."

I shattered around him. My body tensed as the orgasm ripped through me, pleasure crashing down in waves so intense it left me trembling and breathless. I cried out, the sound broken and uninhibited, my walls clenching tightly around him as I came harder than I thought possible.

He groaned in response, feeling my pulse around him, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. His thrusts grew erratic, rougher, until finally, with a deep, guttural moan, he followed me over the edge, spilling into me with a few last powerful thrusts that left us both gasping for breath.

For a moment, we stayed like that, bodies entwined, both of us panting and spent. His hands, once gripping me with unrelenting force, now softened, running soothingly over my hips and sides. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of my neck, and I shivered, still coming down from the high, my legs weak and trembling.

Ever so slowly he pulled out of me, his warm hands guiding me upright. I trembled, my arms shaking as I used them to hold myself up. I leaned against the table as I turned around to face him, my cheeks flushed with exertion, my entire body heated with stimulation.

"Feeling alright?" He asks, his voice so gentle in contrast to his earlier roughness. I nod slowly, gripping the edge of the table behind me for support.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, nearly lovingly, then cups my cheek. I allow myself to lean into the touch, turning my head to place a soft kiss on his palm.

Something in his eyes changed then, something deeper than lust or need, and before I could stop myself I was wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck and slotting my mouth over his yet again.

My legs trembled as he kissed me, savored me so thoroughly like he'd never get sick of the taste. He noticed my unsteady stance and hoisted me back up onto the table, guiding me to lay down, sprawled for him.

The table creaked when he leaned on it and I grabbed his wrist, halting him. "The table won't hold both of us," I say breathlessly, especially not if he was going to push into me as rough as he was earlier.

"Then we'll move to the floor when it snaps." He smirks, crawling over me despite my warning, and I can't help but allow a feeling of excitement and arousal to flicker through me at the promise of his words.

He hovers over me, his hands beside my head as he hardens again, at just the sight of me, the thought of me bare beneath him, legs spread for his entrance. His sultry smirk widens as his tip brushes against my core. "Helion," I whimper, his name on my lips a prayer on its own. "Need you," I beg, my words no longer my own as eagerness for pleasure consumed me.

His gaze darkened, the hunger in his eyes sending a shiver down my spine. He lowered his mouth to my neck, his lips grazing my skin in a teasingly slow path. "Say it again," he murmured, voice hoarse with need, the warmth of his breath making my pulse race beneath him.

I swallowed, my hands gripping his biceps as my chest rose and fell in shallow, desperate breaths. "Please," I whispered, tilting my head to give him better access, my body trembling with anticipation. "Please, Helion. I need you."

A groan escaped his throat, primal and possessive. He didn't make me wait any longer. With one swift, powerful thrust, he pushed into me, the sound of my gasp mingling with his low growl as he filled me completely. The table creaked louder beneath us, and I could feel its instability, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Helion moved with a steady, deep rhythm at first, his hips rolling as he gripped my waist with one hand, the other bracing himself beside my head. "You're perfect like this," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "Desperate and moaning my name."

I could only whine in response, the delicious friction building inside me, pushing me closer to the edge with every thrust. He quickened his pace, the intensity rising, and I arched into him, wrapping my legs around his hips, desperate for more of him, all of him. The tension coiled tighter within me, the sound of our bodies colliding and the ragged breaths filling the room.

"Helion," My voice was barely a whisper, swallowed by the pleasure that rippled through me. His name left my lips again in a breathy plea, barely heard below the splintering of the table, and with another powerful thrust, one leg of the table snapped. He gathered me in his arms before we could go crashing, High Lord strength holding me upright, all while still nestled inside of me.

I was too focused on how good he was making me feel to think about the change of positions, too focused on how he was lifting me up and down on his cock, the quick pace making me release a string of needs.

He dropped to his knees, kneeling down and placing me on the carpeted floor, just as he promised.

He didn't relent in his thrusting despite the altering of position, he fucked me right through it, overwhelmed me with intense pleasure so I barely noticed it as well.

"So perfect, like you were made for me," he breathed, his voice thick with lust as he thrust deeper, each stroke igniting another wave of pleasure that threatened to drown me. I could feel every muscle in my body tensing, arching to meet him, lost in the rhythm he set.

I whimpered, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as if I could merge our bodies even more completely. "Helion, please," I begged, the words spilling from my lips unbidden. "Don't stop. I'm so close."

His response was a low growl, and he quickened his pace, driving deeper, harder, as he captured my mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue tangled with mine, his lips moving against mine as if he were trying to devour me whole. I could feel the way he was losing himself too, the need in his movements matching the frantic beating of my heart.

The carpet shifted beneath us— and I realized we no longer lay against the floor, but a soft mattress. Somewhere during our heated kiss he had winnowed us into what I assume was his bedroom, the sounds of our bodies slapping together echoing off the walls. Helion's hands gripped my hips, guiding me as he thrust up into me, his movements unrelenting. Each thrust built until I was teetering on the edge of release.

"Just a little more," he encouraged, his breath hot against my ear. "I can feel you tightening around me. Let go, love." The endearment sent a thrill through me, urging me closer to the precipice.

"Helion!" I gasped, feeling the coil within me tighten to its breaking point. I surrendered completely, my body instinctively arching and clenching around him as I felt the wave crash over me. My orgasm hit with blinding force, washing over me in intense ripples of pleasure as I cried out, my body trembling in response.

He followed me over the edge, his own release spilling forth as he growled my name, the sound mingling with the rush of my own pleasure. Helion thrust a few more times, riding out both our climaxes, our bodies perfectly attuned to one another.

He finally pulled out of me, flipping down onto the mattress beside me. I rested my head against his shoulder, his hand slipped into mine, our fingers intertwining, feeling blissfully content, the world around us fading into the background as I savored the afterglow.

After a few moments, I giggled softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I can't believe we broke a table."

He chucked breathlessly, the warm sound making a feeling bloom in my chest. "It never stood a chance," He replied.

"Literally," I added, eliciting another quiet laugh from him.

I turned onto my side, wrapping an arm around his bare torso, furrowing into his warmth.

I lay still, the warmth of his body fading as he pulled away, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. My heart raced with a mix of confusion and irritation as I watched him slip into his pants. "I thought I wasn't another conquest?" I muttered, my voice laced with hurt as I searched his eyes for the truth.

Helion paused, his expression shifting to one of genuine confusion. "You're not," he said, the sincerity in his tone softening the edges of my anger. But then I narrowed my eyes, my glare unwavering.

"Then where are you going?" I pressed, the question heavy on my heart.

A playful smile tugged at his lips, clearly amused by my reaction. "Would you have a little faith in me? I'm getting a cloth to clean you up," he reassured, turning toward the basin beside the window. I watched him wet a cloth, wringing it out with careful precision before making his way back to the bed.

My glare faltered, replaced by a rush of embarrassment as he returned to my side, settling beside me, I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and my breath hitched slightly at the intimacy of the moment. Helion gently dragged the damp cloth between my legs, his movements deliberate and tender, and I couldn't help but squirm under his touch.

"Helion," I murmured, feeling a rush of warmth flood my cheeks as he meticulously cleaned me. The sensation was both intimate and oddly soothing, and I found it hard to maintain my earlier annoyance. His focus was unwavering, his eyes intent on his task, and I couldn't help but appreciate how he handled me with such care.

"Relax," he said softly, glancing up at me as he continued his work. "I promise I'm not going anywhere." His gaze held mine, and I could see the genuine warmth and affection there, a stark contrast to the teasing persona he often wore.

I took a deep breath, the tension in my body slowly dissipating as I let his calm wash over me. "Okay," I finally replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I settled back against the pillows, allowing myself to enjoy this unexpected moment of intimacy. Helion finished cleaning me, his touch lingering just a bit longer than necessary, sending shivers of pleasure through me.

"There," he said, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as he tossed the cloth aside. "All clean."

I watch him discard the cloth in the laundry bin with casual grace as if he didn't just alter my entire perception of him. He moved into bed beside me, the mattress dipping with his weight. "You okay, love?" He murmured, tucking me into his carved chest. Again, with that nickname that sent a flutter through me, an endearing sensation I couldn't quite put into words.

I swallowed thickly, nodding as I sunk into his warmth, the kind comparable to the rays of the sun. "Mhm, just tired," I uttered.

"Rest, I'll be here in the morning," He murmured, his hand running down the length of my arm, tracing delicate patterns on my skin. I felt every gentle stroke like a whisper, a promise that anchored me to this newfound connection.

As I settled deeper into his embrace, the world outside faded away, and the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat became the lullaby that lulled me into sleep, a well-earned and deep one, his warmth cradling me into a blissful slumber.

I awoke at first light, my eyes fluttering open to the uncovered windows—the day court being worshippers of the sun, curtains were unheard of here, which made for a rough morning. But something about this morning, with the sun kissing my skin the way Helion had last night, it wasn't so bad.

I flip over, my back to the sun and my front to, perhaps something warmer.

He was awake, already staring at me with a slight smile on his lips. "Good morning," He whispered, his voice deepened by sleep.

"I suppose this is when I take my leave?" I murmur, but don't make any movement to leave. I didn't want to, I wanted to bathe in his sunlight for a little while longer.

He reaches over, his large hand spanning my waist and pulling me closer, encasing me into his broad shoulders and carved chest. "No, my dear, you're not going anywhere." He reassures, looking down at me with a darkened gaze, our foreheads pressed together and his nose brushing mine.

"What have I gotten myself into?" I feign annoyance, rolling my eyes.

He lets out a breathless laugh, leaning down into my neck and pressing his lips into the collection of marks he had left only last night. "You've no idea." He mumbled and I groaned playfully, grumbling a curse.

"Still pretending like you haven't completely fallen for me?" He prodded, the tip of his nose running up my neck.

"I didn't say that," I murmur, running a hand through his hair.

"So you have, fallen for me?" He teased, pulling away from my throat to peer up at me.

"Helion," I whine, my bottom lip protruding as I meet his gaze. "I can't stay here all day, now can I?"

"Who says you can't? The Day Court has no rules against me lounging in bed with beautiful women," He purred. "I've made sure of it." He added with a wink and I rolled my eyes.

"That doesn't sound like a very productive court," I remark, a smile pulling at my lips as I feel our usual banter slide back into place.

He hummed in thought, adjusting out position so his hips were between my legs, his arms wrapped around my waist, and his head on my chest. "Depends on what you consider productive." He mumbled into the cleavage of my breasts.

I scoffed, pulling at his hair and guiding him away from my chest. "You're insatiable," I grumble.

"You love it." He says with an all too confident wink.

"Maybe." I sigh, gripping his shoulder and flipping us over. "But what would your court say if they found out you were bedding your emissary?" I frown at the thought alone.

"I'm their High Lord, they can't say anything unless they wanted their tongues taken—" He suggests, while helping me into a more comfortable position, my head beside his on the pillow, our legs intertwined, my chest pressed against his. "Though I doubt any of them would say a word about you." He reassures, his hand coming to my jaw. "That is unless you wanted them to talk? If so I'd be happy to tell them the events of last night." He smirks and my cheeks glow red, heated beneath his touch.

"Modesty is one of your many virtues I see," I murmur, attempting to ignore my fluttering heartbeat.

"Of course." He gives me a look as if it was a well-known fact. "I'm the very picture of restraint and humility." He quips and I giggle, the sound making his breathing stall for a moment.

His gaze flickers down to mine, his brows slightly creased in conflict. "Stay." He whispered, leaning closer and pecking a kiss on my forehead. "Just a little longer." He added, his lips brushing about my skin.

I sighed, any lingering resolve melting away under his touch. "Just a little longer," I agreed, closing the distance between us as his lips met mine, slow and unhurried, as if the rest of the world could wait.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @hufflepuff-pa55 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @ivy-34 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @aurorab99 @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @mmg777 @andreperez11 @thatacotargirl @123345566 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna @imyherondale @salvawhxres @bookishbabyyyy @anuttellaa @breadsticks2004 @azriels-human @mamita-vera @demetercabingreen-thumb @lorosette @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tothestarsandwhateverend @ahaha0246 @mellowmusings @mythicalcookie

[hunzzzzz]

OBX TWEETS: part 17 (Rafe Cameron x reader x John B SMAU)

A/N: some writing at the end. don't miss it!

TW: daddy issues

To say you'd been "checked out" for the past week was an understatement. Your daddy issues had always been the punchline of a self-deprecating joke, the kind that gets a nervous chuckle and a quick subject change. But deep down, you knew that particular brand of emotional baggage wasn't just a problem; it was the fertile ground from which all your other charming neuroses bloomed.

Your parents' relationship wasn't exactly a gentle stream flowing through a meadow. More like a constant, head-on collision between two very stubborn, very loud freight trains (unless you count your eventual trust issues as a logical outcome of witnessing the wreckage). You were the resident eavesdropper, a tiny, silent gargoyle perched atop the stairs, knees tucked so tightly to your chest you could practically feel your kneecaps fusing. The yelling was the soundtrack to your childhood, a discordant symphony of slammed doors and raised voices.

Then, one day, the music stopped. Not a fade-out, more like a sudden, jarring silence. And just like that, the man who was supposed to be your superhero vanished into thin air. Your mom, bless her tight-lipped heart, offered no grand explanations, no dramatic pronouncements. Just a simple, devastating "Daddy's not coming back." At eight years old, that sentence was a linguistic black hole, sucking up all understanding and leaving behind a void.

Fast forward eleven years, past a graveyard of missed birthdays, silent Christmases, and Thanksgivings where his absence was a louder guest than anyone present. He didn't show up for your high school graduation, a milestone that apparently ranked at the bottom on his list of priorities. And it was in those years, navigating the minefield of adolescence and burgeoning adulthood, that you truly began to catalogue the sheer, unadulterated damage his disappearing act had inflicted.

Your teenage years were a masterclass in misguided control. Since you couldn't control whether a parent stuck around, you decided to control the one thing you absolutely could: your own body. Turns out, an eating disorder is a fantastic (and by fantastic, I mean soul-crushingly awful) way to feel like you're in charge when your world has gone completely sideways.

And relationships?  You were the queen of the emotional hit-and-run. Anything past the one-month mark felt less like a budding romance and more like an impending disaster. The script was always the same: they'd either get fed up with your expertly crafted emotional unavailability (a skill honed over years of practice, thank you very much) or you'd execute a swift, silent ghosting – your signature move. It wasn't conscious, not really. More like a highly effective, deeply inconvenient trauma response. After the original heartbreak, delivered by the man who was supposed to be your ultimate protector, you never quite rebuilt the part of you that knew how to stay. So, you perfected the art of abandoning ship, because being the one who left felt a hell of a lot better than being left again.

Letting anyone new into the inner sanctum of your messy, complicated self was like asking you to perform open-heart surgery with a rusty spoon. Terrifying didn't even begin to cover it. The thought of someone seeing the darkest corners of your mind, the echoes of that original wound, and then choosing to walk away? Your nervous system literally couldn't tell the difference between vulnerability and getting shot at point blank.

You decided to walk back to John B’s from work. The chateau wasn’t exactly down the road. Given your recent car troubles you usually got Rafe or John B to pick and drop you from work. But these days you enjoyed walking.

Headphones on, world off. Your standard defense mechanism was in full effect, drowning out everything but the carefully curated soundtrack to your current state of advanced avoidance. You were so deep in the rabbit hole of your own making you almost clotheslined Rafe, who was leaning against his truck like he owned the street.

"You're avoiding me," he said, no preamble, just the accusation hanging in the air as he stepped closer.

You mumbled a "Sorry," yanking off your headphones like they were suddenly too loud, your gaze fixed firmly on the ground. "Just busy." The lamest excuse in the book, but it was all you had.

Your previous setup with Rafe had been demolished. You'd practically lived at his place, especially after the fallout with your mom when you got back from rehab making home feel less like a sanctuary and more like a battlefield. Rafe's bed was a five-star resort compared to your aunt's lumpy sofa.

Then came the fight. Just a few lines, a shift in his usual easygoing dynamic, but it had felt like a physical blow. All that tough-girl bitch fasacde? A paper-thin shield. You were raw and exposed underneath. The sudden anger in his words, the sheer force of his frustration – it had tripped a wire deep inside you. Your built-in eject button was slammed. He's pissed. He's going to bail. You had convinced yourself you were unlovable, too damaged to make a relationship work. The thought wasn't logical, but it was loud, a siren screaming through your brain. The only way to control the inevitable was to trigger it yourself. Pull the pin. Run.

So you'd been bunking at John B's, perfecting the art of ignoring Rafe's attempts to reach you for the past seven days. Your friends weren't stupid; they knew the whole "my deadbeat dad is back" drama was only part of the story. They just waited, blessedly, letting you self-destruct in peace.

“You know,” Rafe started, his voice rough, etched with hurt, "I was hoping your phone spontaneously combusted. I was seriously considering 'missing persons report.' Figured it was more likely than you just not answering my calls for a week." He rubbed his temples, the gesture speaking volumes about his stress.

You stared resolutely at the ground, the worn-out treads of your sneakers suddenly fascinating. Any attempt to speak would shatter the fragile composure you were desperately clinging to, unleashing the tidal wave of tears you felt building behind your eyes.

"Can't even look at me?" A heavy, frustrated sigh. Then, gently, his fingers were under your chin, lifting your head until your watery gaze was trapped by his. "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry I blew up at you."

"It's okay," the words were thin and unconvincing, accompanied by a weak, wobbly smile that felt alien on your face.

"No, it's not okay." He shook his head slowly, his eyes scanning your face, cataloging the damage the past week had wrought. The dark smudges beneath your eyes, skin unnaturally pale despite the relentless summer sun. It was a clear report card of sleepless nights and relentless anxiety.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked, his voice softer now, taking your hands in his. You managed a small shake of your head. "Are you upset with me, then?" His eyes searched yours, a silent question begging for an answer you couldn't give. "What is it, then? Just tell me. What did I do?" His voice climbed, a note of desperation making it sharp.

That sudden tension, the rise in his voice – it hit you like a physical blow. Tears welled instantly, spilling over and tracking down your cheeks. You recoiled, stepping away, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself, shrinking inward. The sound transported you, stripping away the years until you were that small, scared child huddled at the top of the stairs, the sound of yelling echoing around you.

"Hey, hey," Rafe was there in an instant, circling you, his arms gentle as he pulled you into a hug. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice."

You collapsed against him, the carefully constructed walls crumbling. Deep, racking sobs tore through you, shaking your entire frame. Your face pressed into his chest, soaking the front of his shirt. He held you close, murmuring reassurances, shushing you, rocking you side to side in his arms.

After a long moment, you pulled back, catching your breath, biting down hard on your lip to steady yourself. Your eyes, still glistening with tears, met his concerned gaze.

"It's okay," he said quietly, his voice low and comforting, guiding you towards the open door of his truck. "We don't have to figure it all out right now." He helped you in. "Let's just go home, yeah?"

You knew exactly where home was.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

"God, I missed you so fucking much," Rafe groaned, pulling you into him, tangling you both in the sheets.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled into his chest, the apology a small, inadequate offering for the week of silence. "I... I don't know why I'm like this." 

It was a lie, a reflex born of habit, because you knew exactly the root of this twisted behavior.

"It's okay," he murmured, his hand stroking your hair.

"No," you pushed yourself up, crossing your legs on the bed. "It's really not."

Rafe sat up with you, leaning against the headboard, his expression open, waiting. He didn't demand answers, just reached out, his fingers finding yours, lacing them together, his thumb stroking the back of your hand.

The words felt like shards of glass in your throat. "I'm a leaver," you choked out, the confession a raw wound.  "That's what I do. When things get... real, or tough, I run. It feels like it's just... in my programming. Part of the factory settings." 

You finally looked away, shame heating your cheeks. "So when we argued... it felt like the beginning of the end. And I just thought it would be easier to... handle the exit myself."

"Baby," Rafe's grip tightened slightly on your hand, his voice soft but firm. "That was a stupid argument. My fault. It wasn't the end of anything."

"You don't want this, Rafe," you insisted, shaking your head, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. "Trust me. Because this is what you get. Someone who disappears, who shuts down, who builds walls the second things get hard. No one in their right mind would sign up for that."

"Well, maybe I'm not in my right mind then," he said, a faint smile touching his lips, but his eyes were serious. "Listen to me. I see the walls. I see you pushing. And yeah, it hurts like hell. But I also see you. The person underneath all that. The person who's been through some serious shit and is still standing. Still sarcastic. Still amazing." He squeezed your hand. "And I don't care if you push. I'm starting to understand how your defense mechanisms work. I just... I want to be here for you. If you'll let me."

Your throat felt tight, your eyes blurring again. "I don't know how," you whispered, the admission a painful one. "I don't know how to... let anyone help me."

A flicker of hurt crossed his face. "Like you do with your friends?" The question hung in the air, unspoken acknowledgment that he meant John B.

"It's just... easier with him."

"How?" His voice was gentle, curious, not accusatory. He genuinely wanted to bridge the gap.

"He knows," you explained, the words finally flowing, carrying the weight of years. "He was there. When my dad left. He knows the before and the after. He knows all the messy parts. I don't have to explain. He just... gets it. Automatically."

Rafe nodded slowly, a dawning comprehension softening his expression. "So... that's what this week was about? Your dad?"

You nodded, a hesitant dip of your head. Swallowing hard, your stomach twisting with nerves, you made the decision. A leap of faith. He'd stayed through your silence. He was still here, holding your hand. You wanted this to work. You wanted him to last. 

And then you started talking. The words tumbled out – the sudden reappearance, the complicated, painful history, the gaping wound of the "daddy issues." You laid it all out, the ugly parts, the fear, the feeling of being fundamentally flawed. And as you spoke, pouring out years of buried pain, the weight on your chest began to lift, just a fraction.

"Baby," Rafe murmured when you finished, pulling you into a fierce hug, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, the other stroking a soothing path down your spine. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. Trust me, I know a thing or two about shitty dads."

"I'm sorry I don't... open up," you mumbled into his shirt, the apology feeling small but necessary. "It's just... hard. Because if I let myself feel things, if I let someone see... all of it..." You pulled away from him, meeting his eyes. "...I'm terrified they'll leave. That you'll leave." The confession was a quiet ache in the air. "It's easier to be the one who walks away than to stand there and watch someone else do it. It hurts less to expect it than to be blindsided."

"Listen to me," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I know that's your default setting. I know you've been hurt. But I'm not him." He paused, letting the unspoken name hang in the air, acknowledging the shadow of your father. "I'm not going anywhere just because things get a little messy, or because you're having a tough time, or because you show me the parts you try to hide."

"I'm here. And I'm staying. You pushing me away for a week? It didn't make me want to leave. It made me worry. It made me want to figure out what was going on. It made me realize... how much you mean to me." He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands.

"I'm not going to leave you, baby. Not for this. Not for anything." His voice was a solemn promise, etched with sincerity. "You don't have to be afraid of falling apart in front of me. I'm not going to run."

"When you're shutting down, tell me. Just a word. 'I need space.' 'I'm freaking out.' Something. So I'm not left guessing. Communicate what's going on. Okay? Can you do that?" He continued.

"I can do that. I'm gonna work on it,” you promised him, and you meant it.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

Taglist:

@yktayy9669 @urmomaahoe @rafesgurl @rafesdrew @sophreakingfunny @hannaa20002000 @furiouscopshepherduniversity @mirellef2001 @colbysbrocks @drewstarkeytruelove @luzstarkey @sassyvilliantrope @wintercrows

@lolasangelz @scream4mami @pixieflu @beavee11 @wtfisastiles @pandxra @Ivxstarr @kissylec @hannieskzzz @soulsearchinginkauai @mysticbby2009 @matildalittlefreak @giouvarlakia @yncoded @my-name-is-baby @harryzcherry @lilithblackkk @drewstarkeyswife-7 @ethanthequeefqueen

@angelicameron @rafecameronswhoore @Imaowhatt @jun13bug @sqfewrd @chillgal135 @angeldiaryy @bee-43 @chirpchirp69 @klarxtr

@countryclubwhore @ayy1234567 @gublerstylesobrien1238

[seoulzie]

morning desire

WHEREIN: what was supposed to be a nice sleep-in with yeonjun turns into something more MDNI

彡 pairing: yeonjun x f!reader 彡 genre: suggestive borderline smut 彡 warnings: pet names (pretty) making out, breast groping?? mature themes

SEUL SPEAKS! i start writing smut and suddenly i cant stop

yeonjun woke with the soft light of morning filtering through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over your sleeping form beside him. the rise and fall of your chest in peaceful slumber drew his attention, and he couldn’t help but admire every detail of your face.

his gaze lingered on your plump, slightly chapped lips, remembering the taste of them from last night’s goodnight kiss. your long lashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks, and your skin, even in the soft light, looked so smooth and inviting.

as he traced the curve of your jaw with his eyes, thoughts of you began to stir something deeper within him. his admiration turned into a quiet desire, a hunger that grew as he imagined waking you up in the most intimate of ways. the dream he had before waking up only fueled his longing.

just as he was lost in these thoughts, you began to stir, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. there was a moment of shared silence, the air thick with unspoken desires and the intimacy of being so close.

"good morning, pretty," yeonjun whispered, his voice husky with morning warmth. his fingers brushed lightly over your cheek, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine.

you smiled sleepily, the corners of your lips turning up as you leaned into his touch. "morning," you murmured back, your voice still heavy with sleep but tinged with a playful edge.

yeonjun's gaze softened as he looked at you, his thumb tracing your lower lip slowly. "you know, you look even more beautiful when you're sleeping," he admitted, his tone low.

a blush crept up your cheeks at his words, but there was a playful glint in your eyes as you responded, "flattery early in the morning? what do you want, yeonjun?"

"i dreamt of your legs wrapped around my waist."

you met his gaze boldly. "did you now?" you teased, your voice laced with anticipation.

his hand trailed up your side, fingers dancing lightly over the fabric of your shirt. "maybe i just want to kiss my beautiful partner good morning," he replied, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

the air between you thickened with unspoken longing, the anticipation building as you both leaned in simultaneously. your lips met in a tender kiss that spoke of lazy mornings and shared affection, the sweetness of it lingering between you. yeonjun’s lips were warm and inviting, his breath mingling with yours as you deepened the kiss, tongues dancing in a sensual rhythm.

but as the kiss deepened, so did the hunger that simmered beneath the surface. yeonjun’s hands moved with purpose now, trailing down your back in slow, deliberate strokes that sent tingles down your spine. his touch was electrifying.

you straddled him, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you, hips rocking gently against his as you sought more of the closeness you craved. yeonjun groaned softly into the kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss further. his lips moved hungrily against yours, a silent plea for more, as he explored every inch of your mouth that left you breathless.

your hands roamed over his shoulders and chest, fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, memorizing the feel of his skin against yours. the soft sounds of your combined breaths filled the room, mingling with whispered sighs of pleasure and the rustle of fabric as clothes were discarded in a hurried frenzy.

naked skin met naked skin, the heat between you rising with each touch. yeonjun’s lips left yours to explore the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone and back up again, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. his teeth grazed lightly against your sensitive spot, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from deep within your throat.

when his lips finally met the sensitive skin of your breasts, you gasped and arched your back, fingers threading through his hair as he suckled gently, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. your breath caught in your throat as he worshipped you with his mouth, tongue flicking over hardened peaks, alternating between gentle teasing and firm suckling that left you aching for more.

you moaned softly, arching into him, feeling the urgency in his touch. his kisses trailed lower, down to your chest and stomach, leaving a trail of wet heat that made you tremble with anticipation.

time seemed to melt away as you lost yourselves in each other, the room filled with the heady scent of desire and the soft sounds of your combined moans and sighs. yeonjun’s hands roamed over your body, memorizing every curve and dip, his touch setting your skin ablaze with need.

© 2024 seoulzie

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hiya 👋👋👋 can you do current James (I’m such a slut for him) x younger reader, where she mockingly calls him old man. She means no harm just joke but he is offended so in the evening he puts her into doggy and rails her till morning? Pretty please with the daddy kink and dirty talk???

A/n: I lost motivation for this at so many points but just kept writing and it's kinda short it was a good idea and I tried writing it so many times I NEED HIM TO FUCKING BREED ME PLEASE sorry that was freaky

Warnings: Smut, degrading, brat taming, daddy kink, spanking, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

THE TITTIES

There was a bathroom connected to yours and James's shared bedroom, it was big and fancy with all the finishing touches. Two sinks right next to each other, one for you and the other belonged to James.

James was already in their brushing his teeth, still in his day clothes. You came in, wearing only a shirt of his that covered you well enough.

You were already tired, you hadn't done much all day but it was getting late, you liked staying up and waiting for James to get home, eating together and then doing whatever.

James held up better than you with long days, you missed being a teenager and staying up until four. You were lucky to make it to one now.

James eyed you through the mirror as you stood beside him, hand moving slow as you began brushing your teeth. He chuckled softly and pulled his toothbrush out briefly to speak. "Tired?" He asked, mouth full. You gave a small nod and leaned your head on his shoulder.

Obviously this wasn't the first time you brushed your teeth with him, this wasn't your first time you heard him gagging on his toothbrush. You giggled softly and he glanced down at you, giving you a gentle nudge. "What's so funny?"

You shook your head and pulled away from him, letting him spit in the sink. "You do that thing." You said through garbles.

He raised a brow at you cartoonishly, his stupid little faces always made you smile. "What thing?"

"The dad thing." You said, spitting in your sink. "Where you, like, choke on your toothbrush every few seconds." He blinked at you, hating himself for not realizing sooner.

"That's terrible." He muttered, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He continued brushing his teeth and paused when he made the noise again, his shoulders bouncing as he silently chuckled at himself.

It got worse every time, he did his best to not do it but it wasn't intentional in the first place so he just kept laughing and so did you until you finally managed to finish brushing your teeth and rinse your mouth.

"I hate you." James mumbled, shaking his head at you. "Had to point it out, did you?" You nodded smiling widely as he wrapped himself around you, resting his head on your shoulder while walking back to the bedroom.

"You're getting old." You teased.

He stopped immediately in his tracks, stopping you with him. "Old?" He asked, turning you to face him.

You chuckled and nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're gagging on your toothbrush, James." You said, still giggling. "And you make dad noises when you stand up or sit down... you're an old man."

He stared down at you, eyes flickering over your face almost offendedly. "Old man my ass." He huffed, pulling away from you and heading to the closet to get some clothes for the night.

You watched him go, raising a brow at him but shrugging it off as nothing and crawling into bed. You got all nice and cozy and watched as James stared into the mass of clothes, his hands on his hips, thinking about something.

He pulled his shirt off and you whistled, making him look at you with a less than amused expression. "What? Can't compliment my old man?"

James grimaced and looked back to the closet. "That makes me sound like your dad."

You chewed your cheek, he wasn't wrong. "Fine, I'll just call you my silver fox~" He scoffed, clearly upset. “Oh, come on, it’s not that deep.” You groaned.

“Somethings gonna be fucking deep soon.” He barked, shooting a glare at you. You paused, knowing if you pressed further he’d punish you… but you wanted to be punished.

“Not too fast, now, don’t want to pull a muscle.” In an instant he was on you, taking your legs in his hands and folding you in half. You loved when he manhandled you, forcing you into positions that strained you just a little but it made everything feel so much better. Not to mention how fucking hot he looked on top of you, tattoos and muscles, the lustful glare in his eyes.

You were already so wet and ready for him.

His lips travelled down your neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin. James pulled away a moment and look down at you before pulling away completely.

“Take them off.” He ordered, gesturing to his jeans. You sat up and reached for the zipper but he smacked your hand away. “With your teeth, you wanna act like a bitch I’ll treat you like one.”

A new wave of arousal washed over you and adjusted, getting on your hands and knees to pull the zipper down with your teeth. It was hard but you managed, as soon as they were open James grabbed the back of your head and pushed you into his pubes, forcing you to inhale him, which you did happily.

You looked up at him with lust filled eyes, begging for more. James stared down at you for a minute before letting go of your hair. "Turn around." He ordered.

You did just as he asked, spreading your legs and burying your face in a pillow, knowing the position he was trying to get you into. James's hand found your ass, rubbing it and spreading your plush cheeks. "So wet already, and I haven't even done anything yet." He mused, pushing his jeans down along with his boxers and kicking them off the bed.

You felt his already leaking tip rub against your wet folds, gathering your juices to use as lube so he could fuck you. Without warning he pushed into you, bottoming out with a low groan while you moaned under him.

While he was mad and wanted to punish you he had mercy and gave you a second to adjust to his girth. "Fucking bitch." He muttered, holding your hips, one hand rubbing circles into your skin. "Look where insults got you, bent over and begging for dick, but that's where you always end up, isn't it?" He raised the hand that was rubbing you and it came down hard on your ass. "Answer me, slut!"

"Yes! Love it here, love being daddy's little cocksleeve!" You moaned, wiggling your hips and pushing back against him.

James let out a low chuckled and leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "What an obedient little thing you are, why can't you be good all the time? Just have to go an be a brat, don't you?" He asked, his hand coming down again, making your ass sting.

"M'sorry, daddy." You didn't really mean it, you loved being a brat and you loved being punished, and of course James knew this.

"Liar." He muttered, hips snapping into yours. It started harsh but slow, gradually picking up the pace until he found a rhythm he liked, one that had you crying and begging for him to slow down, your body bouncing up and down on the mattress with each thrust.

Your head was sideways on the pillow so you could breathe and look back at James, the dark glint in his eyes as he watched you sucking him in for more, how eager your body was for him.

"Say it again." He demanded. "Apologize, and do it right this time."

You did your best to speak up between moans and whines. "I-m'sorry, daddy, m'so- ngh-! Fuck-ing sorry, m'sorry I called you old." James thought for a moment before deciding he didn't need any more apologies from you, you were pretty enough right here in front of him, giving in to his ever will, it wasn't needed.

His hand moved up from your hip to your back, pressing down on it and forcing you to arch into the mattress. It gave him the chance to adjust his position, forcing his dick impossibly deeper. Your eyes rolled back, already feeling yourself getting closer.

"Be a good slut and cum for daddy." He encouraged. You didn't fully trust it, not that you had a choice, his thrusts had you seeing stars, your gut tightening. He edged you for hours on end when he was pissy, but was never opposed to a little overstimulation. Maybe a lot.

It didn't take long for you get pushed over the edge, moaning out for him as you came. James didn't stop, he didn't slow, he kept the same mind numbing rhythm while you crumbled under him.

You looked back at him and saw a need in his eyes, a yearning. "Calls me an old man and... what did you expect I'd do?" He asked, smacking your ass again. "Gonna show you how an old man fucks you stupid, not gonna be walking for a month." He said through gritted teeth, emphasizing his words with each thrust.

[siolixz]

⋆｡°✩ Of Love and Loyalty⋆｡°✩

+18

Part 1

<Part 2><Part 3: final>

Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader

Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She and Oz have a difficult relationship- he clearly likes her and she is conflicted in her feelings towards him (Eve doesn't have a sexual relationship with Oz in this). While I am between chapters, I decided to write this. Life has been so busy lately- so I apologize. Everyone in this story is 18+ and consenting. I've listened to Lana while writing this sooooo

Enjoy and give feedback If you want :)

Warnings: mentions of violence, smut , gunplay (¬‿¬)

After the death of your parents you were in a bad place, evidently. In a bad place, with the wrong type of people- stealing rims; trying to get by and scraping for food every day, life was miserable in Crown Point and it seemed like there was no way out.

 Not until he found you; shots firing by your head- he cornered you in the street- with a gun in your face. 

“P-please, please do-don’t.” all the words your stupid mouth could pronounce, he looked at you and he decided you were going to live- for the time being. 

This man, he was like a force of nature- so different, so strange. He was the most terrifying person you ever met in your life, from the way he carried himself to the way he dressed- you knew he was a mobster. Someone that the boys on the block, the ones that thought they were ‘tough’ and bullied people like you- people that needed help- could only ever dream of being like. 

Only in small glimpses could you see the man that was underneath; he was lonely, that much you knew- he was a man who dreamed of being respected, of being feared and loved, by all- maybe by you too, by the way you would catch him staring at you, the way he touched you sometimes- on your shoulder, on your hips- one time he brushed the hair out of your face, small acts of domestic kindness gave you glimpses into his desires, his wants and needs.  

“Where you from, kid?” He asked you about your life, he listened and he showed how kind he was, regarding your father and mother and your sister, for the first time since the traumatic event someone listened- everything, everything was taken from you.

He told you, “You have to be hard as nails, think on your feet.” He was right, people like you had to fight for the things they needed, the things they had to get in order to survive. He was like a mentor, you looked up to him, really- you did, but you were also scared, scared that one day you’re gonna do something wrong- say something wrong and he will put a bullet between your eyes before you know it. You couldn’t leave, if you did he was going to find you- the thought of that sent shivers down your spine.

As Robert told you about him leaving for California, you felt a rug being pulled from underneath you- he was the only thing tying you to your old life, the old you. The one who used to sneak into abandoned buildings with your friends; the one who ran home from school to meet up with him and your other friends to hang outside together- to enjoy life. 

“Why-why would you do that? Your whole life is here” you asked him. You and Robert enjoyed each other’s company, he kissed you a few times but that was all, he wasn’t your boyfriend, though you cared for each other.

“Not anymore” he told you “Our families are dead…we gotta care for ourselves now. Look at you, living in this nice apartment- it’s crazy he lets you stay here.” He looked around, almost not believing HE was here, let alone you. You told him that you do some paperwork for this club owner and he lets you stay in one of his spare apartments as payment, a good enough lie, he didn’t probe further. 

“Wh-when are you leaving?” you asked and as he told you that tomorrow night- you wanted to cry, beg him to stay.

“You could come with me” he grabbed your hands and leaned down to look at you “we could start over.” 

You looked at him and nodded “Robert, I-i’m not sure he…he will let me leave.” You took a deep breath. 

“Who? Your boss?” he asked.” Why would he care if you left? Does he-“ Robert took a pause, debating if he was going to ask you this or not “-does he ask for other things too?” You knew exactly what he was referring to. 

“N-no, nothing like that. Robert... this guy, he’s not just like a-a club owner.” you looked him in the eyes, trying to find a way to break this to him “He-he’s like…like a gangster.”

Robert’s eyes went wide “Then you definitely shouldn’t work for this guy. You need to leave.” He’s right, you did need to leave.

How is he gonna know? He’s too busy with Sofia to care for the moment, too concentrated on the new drug- this could be a way out- to get out of this city- for good this time. Leave all the pain in Gotham, start a new life.

 “The bus is leaving tomorrow night, 11pm, promise i’ll see you there?”

“Yes, promise.’ He gave you a quick kiss and left. 

After he came back home, he told you every detail he could think about. He seemed excited, that’s good. He told you he’s gonna need you tomorrow, he had a meeting with the Triads, apparently he forged an alliance with Sofia. Good, good for him, you were happy. Way too happy to see HIM happy, he was your captor- you shouldn't be happy for him.

Too bad you’re not gonna stick around to find out how the deal ends.

 While you were thinking of ways you could tell him about you disappearing while you waited in the Maserati- you were interrupted by a cop and you followed your ‘mentor’s’ words, “think on your feet”---he told you that evening that he was proud of you; as he smiled and grabbed your hand at the lunch you had to observe Luca’s wife at. 

This ‘intimacy’ he placed on you, he was going further and further every day. You didn’t want this, did you? Your stomach did a flip whenever he touched you or looked at you, maybe you wanted to be loved too, protected. 

Oz was also a charismatic man and pretty funny too, so what's not to like? Besides all the killing, he joked around with you and it seemed he enjoyed when you would give him a remark back, when you showed him you had it in you. 

You were leaving tomorrow, when he was gonna be busy at the club- his club. As he was talking to Sofia, he instructed you to be the supplier to the hookers giving the people in the club ‘Bliss’ that’s how he called it. 

His idea, you were sure.  You had to be dressed the part, in a tight white dress so short you couldn’t bend over at all in, your breasts barely covered by the material. 

Between trying to calm your nerves and trying to ignore the way Oz was looking you up and down like a starving man looking at a 3 course meal- this night was going to be hard to get through. 

But you already made a plan, when everyone was distracted, the girls with the customers and Oz with the Triads- you were going to escape. Out the back door and into the night- for a chance at a better life. 

As the evening went on the girls were becoming more and more demanding, people loved ‘Bliss’ and they sure loved you, when you came by- with the product in your purse they cheered for you; they knew your name, some even hit on you- but that’s not important.  

You had to “get your head in the game” like he would say, Oz, it felt so wrong to think like this but you felt bad, a part of you felt like you were gonna let him down- break his heart.

You weren’t ambitious like he taught you to be, you were a coward, afraid of a life like this, afraid of a life with him. 

He was always so full of confidence, of pride- you wanted him to be proud of you too.  Maybe he was going to be so happy he was gonna take the next step and kiss you, you didn’t want this, did you? This dangerous man, he killed people, he murdered them in cold blood and he liked it too.

He was also kind and funny and lonely, so lonely; you were lonely too, you could have a better life here in Gotham, as well- under his wing. 

You checked your phone “Bus is leaving in one hr, u coming?” Robert texted you.

Yes, yes of course you were coming, you had to get to the staff bathroom- upstairs, so you could leave his cash there; change into your old clothes- jeans and a t-shirt- blend into the crowd and leave. 

As Roxy called out your name and pulled you into the crowd, ‘to dance’ she yelled. You couldn’t look suspicious, play the part- play the part, you repeated in your head. 

“You two look like a match.” She yelled in your ear and smirked at you.

“Wh-who?” 

“You and the big boss” she grabbed your waist almost embracing you “Did you fuck him yet? Or are you saving yourself for marriage?” She giggled in your ear as she told you that.

“No.” You answered, clear as day. You saw the way they looked at you- back at Oz’s apartment, you just thought you looked different from them, they were all dressed so nice and you looked like you’ve been to hell and back, because you did- so that’s why they were whispering and giggling to themselves about. 

You told Roxy you had to go, said your goodbyes and you left immediately after. 

In the bathroom, you looked another time at your phone- “Bus is leaving in 30 min. Pls come.” Ok, you had to leav-

“Doll, we fucking did it! Triads are in.” The sound of the door being opened hard enough it almost fell off its hinges, made you immediately drop your phone near the sink ”Oh, it was sweet, you should’ve seen it. We gotta play it safe I mean I still got the Maronis on my ass.” he smiled at you, flashing his gold teeth and started to point his finger towards you.

“But you! Look at you, you fucking did it. I’m proud of you, so fucking proud of you!” He came closer to you and grabbed your face- cradling it, “I told Roxy to order some of that red wine you like- the good stuff, cmon!” He grabbed your upper arm and in the worst timing possible-your phone started ringing near the sink- you quickly turned around and closed it. 

“Give it to me-” He’s going to kill you. 

“Oz-”

“Now, GODDAMIT!” he yelled and you jumped. Your heart beating a thousand miles per hour, he couldn’t see what the texts were, he was going to go crazy. Now for sure, he was going to kill you. Great. You unlocked your phone and gave it to him, your knees felt like play doh.  

As he blinked and looked down at your phone, you could see him scroll through the messages. He looked up at you and you could swear you could see him think about what he was gonna say to you. This man- who was never quiet-was reduced to silence, for the first time since you met him.  God, this was a mistake, why did you want to leave, you didn’t want to leave him.

“We’re this fucking close and you wanna bail on me like that, for what? Some fucking guy who doesn’t care about you.” he said, brows furrowed. He didn’t know Robert, didn’t know if he cared about you or not, yet he is pretty sure he doesn’t- maybe he cares more than him. “With my fucking money, huh?” he asked, after looking at your purse and you. 

“N-no, I swear, it’s not-not about that.” You pleaded, hopefully he was gonna listen, please listen, you thought. 

“What did you have huh? Before I found you? Nothing.” He was right, you did have nothing “I gave you food, shelter, a job and I’m still not good enough for you-”

“Oz, n-no this isn't about that.” you pleaded.

“It sure as shit looks like it. You think you’re too good for this life. You wanna go? Whadya waitin’ for?” he moved his much larger body out of the way, so you could have a clear path towards the door “Fucking go.” He looked almost sad- desperate in a way.

“I-i can’t.” You couldn’t leave, he was going to kill you; he told you that- multiple times.

“The fuck, you think I’m holding you hostage or something? Like you’re my prisoner” Yes, you are. Maybe you liked it, maybe this whole ‘im gonna escape' thing was all a bluff, you wanted a life like this, it excited you, it made your heart race- like he did. 

He moved his hand beneath his jacket and before you knew it- he pointed his gun at you.

“Oz-oz, hey-“ you started

“What did you have, huh? Before I found you?” He slowly started to move towards you, gun shoved near your face. “Fucking nothing. You were nothing. I would kill for you- I gave you so much of what I had, you have all the opportunity in the fucking world.” He came close enough you could smell his cologne and the whiskey on his breath “But this” he pressed the gun next to your head “this is all you feel!” His voice was breaking. 

“N-no-“ you tried to find the words to change his demeanor. You almost started to cry, your heart fell to your ass and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now

“This is all you feel, huh? Being with me?”  He looked into your eyes, his own brown eyes were being illuminated by the bathroom you were in, almost reddish- showing the anger and disappointment he probably felt- you let him down. 

“What else did you tell him, huh?” He asked, once he removed the gun from your temple, as he trailed it down your body, from your neck to your belly. “That I’m in the mob... that I kill people, that you helped hide a fucking dead body?” 

He was so close to you, the way he pressed you against the wall- reminding you of the first time you met him. “That I wanna fuck you?” He whispered.

His question made your ears and cheeks flush with blood and your heartbeat start pounding even more- if that was even possible. His gun trailed even lower and you thought he stopped pointing it at you, until you felt the cold barrel of it on your leg- goosebumps appeared on your skin, he trailed it up and up until it gripped your tight dress from underneath. 

His pupils were blown wide and his breath was getting heavier. “Truth is, you always had a choice.” He moved the gun even higher and with the help of his hand your thongs were on full display in front of him, your dress on your waist.  

He moved his gun to the front of your panties, pressing against your pubic bone- you didn't want to look down and stare at the shameful display.  

“And you choose to stay.” As he moved the gun near the part of the thong that was covering your clit and moved it down there, you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and you looked down, partially because this was so shameful and partly because you didn’t want him to see how turned on you were. 

As you opened your eyes when you looked down- you saw his boner in his pants and the gun he had pointed towards you and the way he held it- like he actually was going to shoot you. 

“I’m-I’m sorry.” You whispered, hoping this would be enough. Maybe you could move on- you didn’t mean it. 

“Look at me.” you reluctantly raised your head “This is what you want, this life- doing this...Don’t fucking lie to yourself. You want to be more than your parents, be someone.” He looked at your lips and then back up into your eyes, as you remained quiet he pressed the gun even harder against your clothed clit. 

“M-my parents would be ash-ashamed of me.” He pressed it even harder “please.”

“Please what? You have to use your words doll.” He gave you a glinted smile- he enjoyed this immensely, what a sick man. “Maybe I can give your little boyfriend a call, have my men go after him and put a bullet in his fucking head. “ 

“You wanna be nothing, great, you already are.” He moved his gun from the right hand to the left and replaced the cold barrel of the pistol with his fingers; the warmth of them was warmly greeted with your involuntary moan. He moved the gun right under your chin- you wanted to cry again, your eyes were closed. He was capable of anything. Don’t cry in front of him, don’t do it.  

He started tracing circles on your clit and as you opened your mouth to breath out a moan, he pressed his lips to yours- tongue touching your upper lip. You were scared, so fucking scared, all you felt since meeting him was this- attraction and fear. All of it led to this moment, a breaking point he reached once he thought you were gonna leave him.

“Open your mouth” he was mere inches away from your lips, he moved the gun next to your body again, pressing into you “open.”- you obeyed. The size of him alone pressing into you was almost suffocating. 

You tried to kiss back- in all your shocked state, truly, you tried. His touches on the most sensitive part of your body were becoming erratic, too busy with the fact he was kissing you. He left your clit and started groping your breasts, almost painfully, you gave him a groan of pleasure mixed with the uncomfortable feeling of having a man his size shove himself over you, touching you anywhere he could get his hands on. 

“You talk about leaving me but you’re so fucking wet.” a trail of saliva connected your mouths “You wanted this.” This wasn’t how you thought the night would end, with your boss on top of you. “Still think I’m wrong?” He removed himself from on top of you and grabbed your arm- putting you in front of the mirror, with him behind you; gun still in his hand.

You saw him pull himself out of his pants and shuddered, maybe in fear and maybe in lust too, this big scary man. Almost crying just because you wanted to leave him, you’ve only known him for a few weeks. 

You were holding yourself up on your hands and as he pulled your panties to the side and slowly entered you, you saw him close his eyes in pleasure and then look back down at the way you took him.

He pressed the palm of his hand on your back; so you leaned forward even more, giving him an eyeful of you and him.

You almost felt like screaming when he buried himself so deep into you the next second, you’re pretty sure you did. What if one of the girls came in? You’re pretty sure Oz wouldn’t give less of a fuck about that right now. 

“Ow fucckk..” he looked up and back down again before setting a pace that made your knees almost give out, thank God you were holding yourself up. He grabbed one of your legs and put them on the sink so he could bury himself even deeper. 

When you felt something cold once again on your head you knew he had the gun pointed again at you; your blood ran cold. “You wanted to leave me..I own you.. I fucking own you” He smacked your bum so hard you knew it would leave a mark; with his eyebrows furrowed and a slight smile he asked you “Tell me, who owns you?” he wants to humiliate you, you thought you had a choice; that you could leave, you never had a choice; never will.

You felt like your cheeks would light on fire by the embarrassment you felt, either way, you had to obey him.

“Y-you” you shamefully lowered your head; closing your eyes, God it felt good to be fucked like this, minus the gun, on second thought, maybe with the gun was better. This was sick.

“Didn’t fucking hear you!” he roughly grabbed your hair and pulled you flush against him, with one hand he held the gun under your chin, with the other he grabbed your breast and fucked you against the sink. You didn’t know what to grab- so one of your hands instinctively grabbed the one he had against your boob- to pull him away if he grabbed you as hard as he did before and with the other-you held the one that had the gun. 

He pressed his nose against your cheek, “Who owns this pussy too, huh?” he kissed the side of your face, he wasn’t going to stop, was he?

Not only were you getting fucked by a man decades older, he practically could do whatever he wanted with you; kill you, fuck you, make you beg for him.

 “You do.” You hated saying this and loved it at the same time- the way he felt inside you, his big hands on you, the same hands that killed so many people without so much as a second thought- this was too much.

“Jesus…you’re fucking drenched.” He wasn’t lying, besides the muffled sounds of music from outside- the only sound in the room was the one your bodies made and the occasional groan from him and your moans, only you two could hear them- at least you hoped. 

“I’m gonna cum…tell me you want me to cum.. tell me you want it inside.” Goosebumps appeared on your skin and your thighs started shaking a little, either by the size of him or in anticipation, you didn’t know.

“I want it, please.” you told him, at this point his face was buried in your neck and his pace was losing momentum so you pushed yourself up against him; again and again.

 “Please what? Please what?!” he asked while fucking you

 “I want you to cum in-inside.” This whole ordeal, it got you so spent up you felt tears in your eyes; he shoved himself as deep as he could inside of you, pushing your body next to the sink until it was painful and you felt the way his cock was pulsing inside of you. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” he kissed you on your cheek. “You’re not going anywhere.” he whispered again. 

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

Author's note: Dude you fucked your own criminal kingpin boss?

Hope you liked the story, have a good day xoxomxxoxoxo

[sp00kymulderr]

it might be nice

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. FEELINGS. Angst. love. just...feelings. Mention of f receiving oral, reader is a not a us-citizen (visa stuff), commitment and intimacy issues all round, did I mentioned feelings? This just kinda started writing itself, i appreciate there isn't enough Dieter in it but it is what it is. Unedited, unbeta'd.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now.

"We could get married"

You look up from your book, drawn back from your far away to the sound of his voice. Dieter is looking at you expectantly.

Your eyes widen as you process the four words that just left his mouth.

"Dee, we…why would we…" You trail off, drawing your legs up and out of his lap, his thumb presses down on the arch of your foot once more before he lets it go.

The conversation had moved on hours ago. Over takeout you'd mentioned trepidation over being able to stay in the country, struggling with your visa and having no sponsorship since you couldn't seem to get a fucking job right now.

Dieter had listened, sympathised, and then eaten you out for dessert just to make you feel better about your situation.

It helped. He'd been pretty mediocre but extremely enthusiastic when you'd met, but now you'd taught him some tricks he knew just how to turn your mind off for a moment.

The conversation was finished the moment he put his mouth on you, or so you thought. He could help you pay for an extension but he wasn't influential or wealthy enough to sway the embassy into letting you stay longer.

"I'd bribe the fuck out of them if I could, you know that"

You did know that. You knew he'd do anything for you. He'd been saying it since the day he met you, once famous (more like infamous) movie star turned rehabilitated recluse with no one willing to be by his side until that day.

He'd met you in a Dennys, of all places. 3am waffles served to his lonely little corner booth because he found it hard to sleep these days, and he got hungry at random times. You took the late shifts because they paid the best, and you could be available in the day for calls from your agent that never came.

It hadn't been sexual at first. It hadn't been anything but a displaced, alone man and an exhausted, untethered waitress sitting in a booth and sharing free fries because chef made too many and they'd only go to waste. It had been whispered giggles, and sharing ridiculous Hollywood horror stories, and 'same time tomorrow' over and over again.

No one in LA had made you laugh. Not until you met him.

Dieter hadn't heard genuine laughter in years. Now he got to hear it every night.

Back in the now, you shake your head. He's being silly. He's trying to make you laugh again.

"Don't be stupid" You playfully shove his shoulder with your foot, but his face falls into a frown, and you feel a little crack in your heart at the sight. You watch as he stands, rubbing fingers across his forearm and muttering a little 'Stupid, yeah'. The tremor you feel inside you is nameless, and you will it to remain that way.

In the last six months of your knowing each other, there have been times when you've felt this same feeling. An ache at the thought that he could be anything other than happy. You'd long since left Dennys for the upward trajectory of the Cheesecake Factory but still when the late shift rolls around you feel a tug at your lips and a name on them, even when you'd seen him only hours before.

You're not an item, that's the thing. You're not a couple. Neither of you have ever said the words outright, no 'I want to be with you', 'I want to be yours'. Not to each other, at least.

It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now. It's enough, it's enough, it's enough. Enough that he will sit up all night long and read lines with you again and again and again. Enough that he tells you not to come over on his bad days but you do anyway, and hold him while he cries.

It's enough to be just this. Because more would only make it hurt more when he relapses, when you have to leave.

When you have to leave…

You close your book, set it down on the table that's strewn with pages for your latest audition. Last night he'd coached you through every single line, and then told you with passion just how perfect you were. You can hear him in the kitchen, and you know he's making himself a decaf latte with way too much caramel syrup and a dash of the kitkat sprinkles because that's what he always makes when he might be starting to crave something else.

That's how you know he wasn't making a joke. That's how you know your hurt his feelings. That and every look he's ever given you, every smile that lights up his eyes that's only been for you. That and the way his hands never stray far from you, always grounding himself with the touch of your skin to his.

"Dee…" You pad up to him slowly, watch as he tenses at your presence. Another prickle in your chest, you can't let him think you don't feel...what it is that you feel.

"Would it be so bad?" He asks without turning, the tinge of dejection in his tone making you reach out. "I'd treat you good, you know. We wouldn't even have to live together or anything…it can just be a way for you to stay. That's all. I didn't think it would be so bad for you"

God, you've had him right in your grasp this whole time. The two of you dancing around your feelings all because of fears you didn't even fully realise you had til now.

"I'd- I wouldn't even tell anyone you were my wife, if you didn't want me to. I wouldn't expect anything from it. I just…fuck,"

You turn him around with a pull to his arm, shake your head and bite back something hopeful and beautiful that inches up your throat,

"I don't want you to go"

Your arms are around his middle, a stifled sob as you bury your face against the soft, worn fabric of his favourite t-shirt - your favourite by extension because everything he loves you love too. He smells like him.

You breathe him in.

He smells like home.

You look up at him and smile. Not the pretty smile you give to casting agents - the one that makes you look perfect - but the big, happy, loving one he saw the very first night you two met in that Dennys at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. The one he gives you back is the same; he's smiled a thousand times on camera, in films and press appearances and award shows. No one else but you has ever seen this smile.

You take a deep breath. The crack in your heart starts in fusing back together.

"We could get married"

[milksockets]

"Often lurking in the corners of fantasy realms is the fact that many people find suffering and struggle deeply entertaining; basic writing advice warns that a story without any critical drama is boring. It's far more appealing (or just plan 'realistic') to many to imagine a world in which heroes fight evil overlords than one in which people have the power to avoid social corruption. People are far more likely to swoon over romanticized toxic codependence than drool over a world where equal access to resources and a lack of gender roles makes white knights and tragic princesses obsolete.

So a tip: Dare to imagine peace and safety. Know that this will take faith."

"Metatopia: Imagination Beyond Dystopia" by Dee Lucas, in Working It: Sex Workers on the Work of Sex - Matilda Bickers (2023)

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (4)

Part 4 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! I hope you are all enjoying - please let me know your thoughts! I am going to try and post these chapters on Sundays from now on.

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: pregnancy.

Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe @minnieoo @hauntedstudentobservationus @st4r-girl-official

Azriel's POV

Azriel had absolutely no idea how this dinner was going to go. Truth be told, he expected you to politely decline and to take your dinner in your bedroom, give yourself some time to adjust to the change of pace your life had taken so suddenly that day. You surprised him once again - but that's what you seemed to do to him. Surprise him. You surprised him by taking an interest in him at Rita's that night, allowing him to tentatively approach you and offer to buy you a drink. You surprised him with a baby, his child. You surprised him by allowing him to not only be part of his child's life so easily, as if you hadn't only known him for a few drunken hours, and in turn, to be part of his life. He wasn't sure that his emotions had really settled down and processed the day - but he felt, deep down, that he quite liked your surprising nature.

Azriel offered you his arm and walked you slowly to the dining room in a comfortable silence; although he felt your body tense as you both approached the door and heard the laughter and chatter behind. He gave you a look - an offer to turn back - but you took a deep breath and nodded towards the door. Azriel opened it, and everyone went silent.

As you walked towards the 2 empty seats on the table, Cassian bounced out of his chair and walked towards y/n, giving her a bear hug.

"How are you feeling, y/n? Are you sure you're not too tired?" he asked, glancing down at your stomach. You chuckled. Y/n had no idea what she was in for living here with him and Cassian - both quickly becoming Mother Hens to y/n and the unborn child.

Y/n laughed in response, giving Cassian a gentle shove on the shoulder. "I'm fine, Cassian, thank you". You had seemed to ease quite a bit with Cassian's presence - perhaps because you felt you had more than one person in your corner. For some reason, Azriel felt a pang of jealousy at how quickly Cassian was able to put you at peace. He pushed the feeling down and guided you by the elbow to your seat.

Mor, however, had other plans - bounding over to y/n and pulling her back up out of her chair and into a hug.

"It is so nice to meet you, y/n! Azriel had a lot to say about you after your little tusk that night post-Rita's", Mor winked. Azriel went bright red, but y/n only laughed.

"Clearly he had a lot more than just things to say", y/n replied, gesturing at her stomach. There was a brief, silent pause; and Azriel held his breath. The pause broke almost immediately,though, as the entire table bursting out into a fit of laughter at your joke. Azriel felt himself relax a bit into his chair, feeling the initial awkward atmosphere dissipating.

Amren didn't stand, instead holding up her glass in gesture to y/n. "Pleasure to meet you", she calls out, taking a long gulp of her drink. Y/n replied kindly, and took her seat at the table. The House produced platters upon platters and everyone dished themselves a plate.

Dinner went forward as uneventful as it could have been. Jokes were passed, at Azriel's expense, and y/n was questioned relentlessly by Mor about her pregnancy and the baby, but there was a comfortable aura in the room and that was all he could have hoped for.

"Is it a boy or a girl?", Mor asked, having dragged her chair around the table after the meal to sit in front of y/n, her hands resting on y/n's swollen stomach.

"I have no idea! Madja said it is impossible to know, but there are some potential indications. I had a rough first trimester, which Madja said is more like a girl - but I also get headaches a lot - which is more like a boy".

"Az, what do you think?", Mor asked, her hands not leaving the small bump.

"I don't mind as long as they are healthy", he replied, watching in awe as Mor placed her head against the bump to try and listen in. Azriel realised that Mor was touching the baby bump before he had and felt that surge of jealousy rear its ugly head once more.

"And that they have wings", Cassian grinned.

"Ah, they do have wings", y/n replied nonchalantly, not realising quite how important that fact would be for the 3 males sat at the table. They all exchanged big smiles, thinking about the day they would be able to take Azriel's son or daughter, their nephew or niece, out to the forest to learn how to fly. Y/n looked up and smiled in response.

"For a 50/50 chance, we got lucky then", Cassian said, raising his own glass upwards in thanks to the Mother. Y/n smiled at him, but Azriel didn't miss the slight glassy-eyed look she had, the way her smile faltered if only for a millisecond and, when she recovered it, the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

Azriel watched as Mor peppered y/n with more questions about pregnancy and the baby, and noticed as y/n's shoulders began to sag slightly with exhaustion. You had also noticed that Rhys was more withdrawn than usual, offering his input into the conversation less than he would normally. Since he had come back from under the mountain, you knew there was something he was holding back, but never wanted to push your brother more than he was comfortable with. You had let him know you were there for him, and would wait.

"I think it's time we head up for the night", he said, standing and offering a hand to y/n. He saw the grateful look in your eye as you accepted.

"Thank you for a wonderful dinner", y/n said, giving Mor, Cassian and Rhys another hug each and Amren a small wave before walking to the door.

"Tomorrow?", Mor called after them. Y/n turned to give Mor a nod, and walked up the stairs ahead of Azriel.

"What's tomorrow?", he asked.

"Mor has asked me to go shopping with her for some maternity clothes and perhaps some bits for the baby. I know we have months to go, but we can't be too prepared I suppose. Plus, she was so excited, I didn't have the heart to turn her down".

Azriel felt the pang again. He hadn't even placed a hand on the swollen bump where his unborn child was growing, and Mor was already taking you shopping for baby items?

"Can I join?", he asked, before he could stop himself. Y/n faltered on the stairs.

"Would you want to?".

"Of course I would, why would you think I wouldn't?".

Y/n looked at the floor, cheeks blushing a deep red. "I just didn't think you'd be interested in going shopping". Azriel could tell that wasn't the real reason, but the deepness of the red your cheeks had gone told him that you weren't comfortable enough to share the reason just yet.

"I'd like to come, if that's ok", he replied, placing a hand on y/n's lower back to gentle guide their direction back towards the stairs and to their bedrooms.

"Yes, I'd like that", y/n replied, face still a deep shade of crimson. "Thank you for tonight, and for everything Az, I really appreciate it".

"You're more than welcome".

When he reached y/n's door, Azriel didn't know the correct way to say goodbye. Does he hug you? Offer you a kiss on the cheek? The hand? High-five you? He opted for a light squeeze on your bicep.

"Shout if you need anything".

Y/n nodded and departed behind the bedroom door, leaving Azriel alone in the hallway.

-

Y/N POV

"Mor. No", y/n said, watching Mor pull a slinky emerald green dress from the rack.

"What?! It says it's maternity!".

Y/n couldn't even grace Mor with a response. The dress, if it could even be called a dress, was just lines of emerald green velvet ribbon which showed off more than it covered. A beautiful dress, but not an everyday maternity dress.

They had been shopping for hours now, Azriel in tow holding the bags, and y/n had begun to get tired. With a beautiful new wardrobe of maternity clothes courtesy of Rhysand's card, it had been a successful shop. They had looked at baby items and started a list of things you would need, but they hadn't picked up anything to buy today. You were looking for the perfect first item to buy your baby and hadn't quite found it.

"I think I need to call it a day, Mor", you say, struggling to pull yourself up off the store sofa. Azriel and Mor rush to your side, each taking an arm and helping you to your feet. You chuckle.

"If I am this bad at only 4 months, wait until I'm 8". Mor laughs, but Azriel looks at you with a fierce expression on his face.

"Then I will carry you".

You gape at him, but Mor only laughs at how serious Azriel's face was.

"Az, she will be fine".

Azriel didn't look the slightest bit convinced. He picked up all the bags and followed you and Mor out of the shop and towards the House of Wind. Mor winnowed up, taking the bags with her, whilst Azriel flew you - careful to mind your stomach. You had noticed his apprehension about your stomach and it made you uneasy. He almost seemed, apprehensive, of it?

Once upstairs, Mor kissed your cheek and winnowed home, leaving you and Azriel. You left the bags in the living room, too tired to deal with them now, and made your way to your bedroom. You had just taken your makeup off and got yourself into bed when you hear a knock at the door.

"Come in".

Azriel walks in, a tray in hand. He places it next to you on the bed, and you are delighted to see it brimming with delicious food and your indigestion tonic. You pat the space next to you on the bed, inviting Azriel to join, and tuck in. You notice him walk over slowly, almost as if giving you an out to change your mind and send him away, before he sighed and climbed carefully on to the bed next to you. He watched as you finished the food he had prepared and took a dose of your tonic, settling back on the pillows.

"How are you feeling?", he asked.

"Tired, I didn't realise how exhausting it was to grow a baby. Everything hurts all the time".

"What is hurting now?" concern lacing his voice. You sigh.

"My legs, my feet, my lower back, my shoulders. Turns out carrying around another small human does a number on you".

Without a word, Azriel pulls the covers down from your body and moves to sit at the end of the bed. Taking your legs and placing them in his lap. He starts to rub them and you let out a contented grunt. You stay like that, in silence, for a while - Azriel taking the time to release the pressure you felt from a day of walking around the shops.

"Az?", you ask quietly. He looks to you and raises a brow.

"Why haven't you touched the bump?".

He stills.

"I- I didn't want to upset you or offend you".

You stare at him. Upset or offend you? It's just as much his child in there as it is yours! Your face softens as you take in his, his eyes longingly looking at the swelling.

"You can, Az".

Azriel moves slowly to sit next to you again. You see his scarred hands shake as he places them on his legs, as if considering how to do this. You know there is a story there, a traumatic one, but you don't want to push Azriel to tell. You see him reach one hand out and gently place it on the centre of your stomach, his eyes glancing to you to make sure you are ok with it. You nod, encouraging him to continue. He reaches out the other and cups your stomach. He stays there a while, looking both content and unsure all at once, before he looks to you and smiles.

"Thank you".

Your heart almost breaks.

"Az, you don't need to thank me. This is your child. You can do this any time you want". He nods, his stoic Spymaster face back on as he returns to the other end of the bed and picks your legs back up.

"Keep this up, Az, and I'm going to fall asleep".

He grins at you - "that's the aim".

You give him a half-lidded smile as you feel your eyes forcing themselves shut and your body sinking into the bed.

-

Azriel POV

Azriel keeps up his massage until your breathing becomes slow and steady. He looks up to see you sleeping peacefully, your hair fanned out across the pillows. He smiles, and glances down at your bump, still uncovered by the duvet and peeking out of your pyjama top.

He still hadn't wrapped his head around the fact that you were here, pregnant, with his child. He didn't think it would sink in for quite some time.

Slowly, he moves himself up the bed towards you, careful not to wake you, and places his hands gently on the bump. Resting his head on the bed, he turns to face your stomach.

"Hi baby, I'm your dad".

[deer-hearted]

Dee, Ronnie & Liam from Overlords AU ( @overlords-au ) enjoying their time unwrapping the presents ❤️

List of things they got (anonymously):

stupid t-shirt for anyone who likes it (close shot for curious people below)

spa day gift set (I doubt it would ever get close to their bathroom, so that's for Ron to study and make better stuff, haha)

gift basket with lots of sweets from all over the multiverse for everyo- er, I mean for Liam

The Sims bundle!!! the huge one, everything available at the moment is right there

a real ticking bomb- wait, what? quit unwrapping, who sent this?!

Now I wanna be extremely serious. This one is meant specifically for you, dearest @aeli-tan-art!

I wish you all the best, because the thing that you did there — and I not only mean the Overlords AU itself, but the community around it as well — made some of my nices moments this winter. You're creative, you're fun: I'm always having a great time receiving your answers even if they're just 🤔 or 😎. You're incredibly productive — how do you even manage to do all that and live a life with two wonderful cats and whatnot?? Wow!

I wanna express my sincerest gratitude to you for inspiring me to draw more, to explore other styles and media references, to challenge myself with new poses or new formats of art, and to not be afraid of talking to people out there! The last parts seems funny, but I'm really so glad I stuck my head out of my hole and began writing more and more in the language I know I started lacking skill in.

So... Now I have hope that one day I too will be able to turn my own little corner of fandom into some cozy space where people would enjoy themselves and be silly, horny or obsessed with lore crumbs. Yay!!

Happy holidays! ❤️

This is just a little bonus thingy.

I tried my best, but I'm sure there are still some mistakes. My bad, haha

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you): Week 3

eventually I'll make myself a banner I am making my way though fics that have been buried in my tumblr likes for a long long time (think over 10 years in some cases...) so you'll see a surplus of Sterek from the olden times in the coming weeks :P

Enjoy!

Sterek: 8 and Buddie: 4

The Key by aussiebee | @aussiebee (2019•GA•7.4K)

Eligible bachelor Derek Hale has announced that whomever can take the key from around his dog's neck will be the person he marries. Stiles Stilinski think this is utterly ridiculous.

Hot Pocket Ratio by ShippersList (2016•M•12.3K)

At the threat of the alpha pack, all Derek wants is to keep his pack safe and alive. As the last resort, he tries summoning a demon to help with fighting the alpha pack. He gets a bit more than he bargained for. Or, the story where the classic demon deal of "Will you pledge your firstborn to me?" takes some unexpected turns.

reGuardless by raisesomehale | @raisesomehale (2015•M•3.4K)

The president had been to the point when he explained to Derek the rules of the job. Stiles was in the room while these rules were recited: Never take your eyes off of him in public. That’s how he liked to dodge his last bodyguards. No more than an arm's length apart. He’s more slippery than you’d think. Escort him to and from appearances. Intervene in any situation that might tarnish the Stilinski image... The list went on and on. As did the games of chicken Stiles initiated to test Derek with these rules.

The Key to Your Heart by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) | @halehathnofury (2020•E•35.6K)

Stiles Stilinski has come to the small town of Beacon Hills to write a feature on Derek Hale, son of Senator Talia Hale and one of the most sought after (and elusive) omegas in the U.S. He's got drive, persistence, charm and a plan to get Derek to give his first and only interview about his cunning plan to have his suitors try to win his hand by managing to get the key to his heart from the alpha of his rescue wolf pack. Stiles is most definitely NOT going to fall in love. Nope, not even a little bit. Dammit.

The Wolf Den by BigBadLittleRed (DonnyPhantom) | @star-shuttle-scout (2015•NR•33.6K)

Stiles Stilinski works for the Sheriff's Department in Beacon Hills County. He considers himself a rather invested young father to his only son, Spencer. He knows everything about the boy, except maybe he doesn't. On a day where Lydia's caught up in work for too long, Stiles has to take his son to a weekly event at the library he knew nothing about. He's especially confused when he finds out it's hosted by a young man his age with rather eccentric style, and a service dog. His name is Derek, the kids call him Dee-Dee.

Promise You'll Look After Him by DiscontentedWinter | @discontentedwinter (2015•M•9.9K) [Less Sterek more Sheriff]

Sheriff Stilinski is used to dealing with victims of violent crime. He knows how to approach kids who've been beaten and sexually assaulted. Except this time it's his son. It's Stiles.

Walking Into Darkness by alenie | @alenie (2014•T•6.3K)

Derek hears Stiles before he sees him. There's anxious, wheezy breathing coming from the next aisle over in the grocery store, accompanied by a racing heart and the smell of unwashed sneakers and hair gel. He turns the corner and Stiles is standing frozen in the dairy aisle, knuckles clenched around the metal of his shopping basket.

The Trouble With Falling by o_hoechyeah (2024•GA•3.6K)

Derek has guarded many souls in his time. He didn’t usually care too much about them. He’d witnessed so many in his lifetime that they hardly seemed unique anymore. Except for him. Stiles. Derek found that he was absolutely taken with the little human.

Five Years by aubrey_writes (2025•M•8.3K)

“It’s yours,” Eddie had finally said, looking down at it for a moment before handing the phone to him. “I… There’s a lot of stuff you might want to go through on there.” Buck frowned, confused, but when he looked down at the screen, he saw it. [250 missed calls][635 unread messages] “Wha–” “A lot of people used it as a… A way to communicate with you while you were gone.” Eddie’s voice was tense. Buck couldn’t stop staring, reading the top message from Eddie over and over again, the only one that he could see. It didn’t make sense. “You don’t have to go through it all but… We missed you, ba– Buck.” Buck slowly looked up from his phone, and there was that look again. Eddie had reached out, the same way he had when Buck came back, fingers brushing across his face gently. Buck wanted to melt into it. He did, later, but in that moment, he had to keep himself together. “I want to.” “Okay,” Eddie’s hand had dropped. Buck’s skin felt cold. “Come get me when you’re done.” OR Buck gets blipped. Eddie's left behind. A love story told through what Eddie did in his absence.

here’s my confession (I’m kind of hooked on you) by donationwayne | @donationwayne (2024•M•115K)

Buck is forced to go on a temporary medical leave after getting crushed by a flight of stairs. In the meantime, he works at dispatch while he recovers. One evening after work, Buck hooks up with a mysterious, hot, family oriented DILF. The following morning he’s mortified and a little love sick after discovering said hook-up aka Eddie Diaz is the newest (temporary) firefighter liaison--poached from a house in El Paso, Texas. Buck navigates becoming best friends and eventually work partners with his ex-hookup. In the meantime, he desperately tries not to fall in love. He fails. Cue: An adorable five year old, prank wars, gay offs, break room gossip, a fake dating plot, firefighting shenanigans, a packed summer of PTA responsibilities, karaoke, and copious amounts of cupcakes and thai food OR tldr: the hot dilf from the bar is my new work partner

Not Doing This Alone by carpediaz | @sofa-king-lame (2025•M•27.4K)

Things flow uncharacteristically seamlessly for Eddie over the following weeks. He eventually manages to only feel the need to check in on Christopher once each shift, twice if he’s on a double. Buck feels like part of the family so fast it makes Eddie’s head spin a little, especially when he comes home and Buck is waiting with a home cooked meal and stories of what he and Christopher got up to that day. or The one where Eddie hires Buck as a nanny for Christopher and has to navigate falling in love with someone he shouldn't want (who definitely wants him in return).

I Feel Like a Person for a Moment of My Life by serenelystrange | @serenelystrange (2025•E•13.3K)

“Must have been the wind,” he says to himself, hurrying over to the garage door and locking it closed before heading back towards the stairs. From the dark hiding spot inside the bed of the pickup truck, a pair of yellow eyes blink slowly, watching him go.

[yourpenpaldee]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION.

I don't usually put myself out there as it makes me nervous. But I've been a lurker for way too long, and it's about time I step out of my comfort zone. So, hello! I'm Dee (she/her), twenty-two, and have found my voice with storytelling.

Writing has always been a passion of mine, and continues to be the tool I turn to when I need an outlet to freely express myself. I have, unfortunately, hit a rough patch with consistency, and I'm here to bring all of that motivation and inspiration back. Especially since there are one too many WIPs sitting on the backburner, and they're all calling my name.

As someone who loves to dip their toes into every genre of fiction, I will read anything that peaks my interest. However, when it comes to creating, my works usually fall under romance and mystery. With practice, I intend on branching out into other genres I don't write often. There's a lot to explore in the world of writing, and I don't want to limit myself to only two categories.

Creating this blog provides me the space I need to accomplish the many goals I often dream of achieving. I acknowledge that it all starts with the ability to hold myself accountable. To show up for myself. To become comfortable with the uncomfortable. Putting myself and my projects out into the world is only the first of many steps, and it feels quite liberating.

I aim to use the voice I've found to not only contribute to the progression of POC representation, but to touch on several topics that remain heavily stigmatized in today's media. There’s a joy that runs through my veins every time I see someone like me on my screen or in a book. I feel seen, heard, and proud. I feel important. But as a creator, there’s that itch that can only be scratched when I create. When I make something that lets the next person know that they’re not invisible. That they're valued, loved, and appreciated. That's what I hope for when someone reads a project of mine. For them to feel the same rush of joy flowing through them as it does me.

Wow, I’m a yapper. I'd like to close this intro off with some fun facts, so here are some of my top five favorites with sidenotes because I still want to yap a bit more about the things I adore.

SOLO ARTISTS:

ARI LENNOX ✧ ˚ · . CHOCOLATE POMEGRANATE — GET CLOSE — GOAT — POF — UP LATE

HALSEY ✧ ˚ · . 100 LETTERS — I HATE EVERYBODY — NIGHTMARE — ROMAN HOLIDAY — THE LIGHTHOUSE

HOPE TALA ✧ ˚ · . CHERRIES — EDEN — I CAN'T EVEN CRY — LEAVE IT ON THE DANCEFLOOR — SUNBURN

MELANIE MARTINEZ ✧ ˚ · . ALPHABET BOY — DEAD TO ME — EVIL — NOTEBOOK — STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE

HALIMA ✧ ˚ · . DOWNTOWN — FORD CARDINAL — IF LOVE WAS GREEN — SAMANTHA — TALK

BANDS:

5 SECONDS OF SUMMER ✧ ˚ · . AIRPLANES — BETTER MAN — KILL MY TIME — LONG WAY HOME — TEARS!

FALL OUT BOY ✧ ˚ · . BANG THE DOLDRUMS — CHICAGO IS SO TWO YEARS AGO — HEADFIRST SLIDE INTO COOPERSTOWN ON A BAD BET — NOBODY PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER — WHERE DID THE PARTY GO

FLO ✧ ˚ · . CARDBOARD BOX — FLY GIRL — IMMATURE — SUITE LIFE (FAMILIAR) — WALK LIKE THIS

PARAMORE ✧ ˚ · . BIG MAN, LITTLE DIGNITY — CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE — FRANKLIN — MISGUIDED GHOST — PART II

THE INTERNET ✧ ˚ · . DONTCHA — HOLD ON — LOOK WHAT U STARTED — SOMTHING'S MISSING — SPECIAL AFFAIR

GAMES:

CORAL ISLAND ✧ ˚ · . IF I START LISTING NAMES, I'M GOING TO MENTION EVERYONE. BUT I'M A LOYAL MARK GIRL. AND NOAH... AND MILLIE, EVA, BEN, Y—

DISNEY DREAMLIGHT VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . THIS IS SUCH A COMFORT GAME THAT SOOTHES MY INNER CHILD.

DON'T STARVE [TOGETHER] ✧ ˚ · . I MAY OR MAY NOT STILL SUCK AT THIS GAME AFTER A SOLID THREE YEARS, BUT I'M A WIGFRID MAIN.

STARDEW VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . I LOVE SEBASTIAN AND LEAH, AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL IF I HAVE TO.

THE SIMS 4 ✧ ˚ · . WHERE I SPEND A LOT MORE TIME IN CREATE-A-SIM AND BUILD MODE COMPARED TO PLAYING THE ACTUAL GAME.

TROPES:

FAKE RELATIONSHIP ✧ ˚ · . MHM... JUST SAY YOU LIKE EACH OTHER ALREADY.

FATED MATE ✧ ˚ · . I'M A BIT PICKY ABOUT THIS TROPE THOUGH. THINGS TEND TO MOVE VERY QUICKLY BUT I ENJOY IT NONETHELESS.

FRIENDS TO LOVERS ✧ ˚ · . A CLASSIC THAT DOESN'T NEED AN EXPLANATION.

REUNION ✧ ˚ · . ESPECIALLY IF THEY WERE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND THEY REMINISCE OLD MEMORIES, OH MY GOODNESS. I EAT THIS TROPE UP EVERY TIME.

SLOWBURN ✧ ˚ · . NO DOUBT THIS IS MY MOST FAVORITE TROPE. THE BUILDUP TO EVEN THE TINIEST PIVOTAL MOMENT ALWAYS MAKES MY HEART THUMP.

TV SHOWS:

CRIMINAL MINDS ✧ ˚ · . YES, I’LL WATCH ALL 16 SEASONS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME AND FALL IN LOVE WITH PRENTISS EACH TIME. WE WERE ALSO ROBBED OF BEARDED HOTCH CONTENT.

BRIDGERTON ✧ ˚ · . DO I CRY EVERY TIME I WATCH GEORGE AND CHARLOTTE'S STORY? YES. WILL I CONTINUE TO REWATCH IT AND RECITE THE LINES EVERY TIME SOMETHING REMINDS ME OF IT? ASOLUTELY.

THE BEAR ✧ ˚ · . I WISH I KNEW OF AYO EDEBIRI BEFORE THIS SHOW BECAUSE THAT WOMAN IS AMAZING??? LIKE, HELLO???

THE EQUALIZER ✧ ˚ · . *mini spoiler* STILL CAN'T STOP THINKING OF DANTE'S GRIN WHEN HE GOT TO SEE MEL, ROB, AND HARRY'S LITTLE WORK SPOT FOUR SEASONS LATER.

SWEET MAGNOLIAS ✧ ˚ · . HELEN, MADDIE, AND DANA SUE IS HOW I PICTURE MY FRIENDS AND I IN THE FUTURE. MARGARITA NIGHTS, BEING AUNTIES TO EACH OTHER'S CHILDREN, UGH. I LOVE THEM WHOLEHEARTEDLY.

And that concludes this introduction on me and this blog. I would love to connect and befriend other authors, so please don't hesitate to reach out as my DMs will always be open! I'd love to support and read your works, so don't be hesitant to share them with me if you'd like.

I hope you all will enjoy reading my works as much as I enjoy the process of bringing my ideas to life.

divider creds to strangergraphics ♡

[sl-vega]

05; mixed signals

project: love liason! - a scaramouche smau

additional notes:

ah yes my (least) favourite trope to watch/read in romance ✨MISSCOMMUNICATION✨(hella fun to write tho)

^^ tw; the latter will be present in many other chapters from now on

also omfg sorry for not uploading guys

𝜗𝜚 SYNOPSIS: you're head over heels in love with childe, and scaramouche is (begrudingly) smitten with his "rival" mona. and, by sheer divine coincidence, you both happen to be the best friends of each other's objects of affection, so you strike a deal with each other. if scaramouche helps you ask out childe, you'll set him up with mona. so with the annual spring formal right around the corner, the two of you vow to be each other's wingmans so you can end your junior year on a high note (and maybe even kick off your senior year with a new relationship!). between, scheming, planning, and researching, you and scaramouche find yourselves developing a new relationship via helping each other out. now the real question is whether this friendship will remain as a pure platonic bond, or blossom into something more?

<PREV ll MASTERLIST ll NEXT>

🎀 - taglist!; (1/2)

@agaygothicmushroom @035814 @freyao7, @sketcheeee @tsukimara @shyentsmissingink @peachystea @aries-afk @lxkeeeee @sakiimeo @sugxryratz @shutingstar @lalaloveallmydays @bellflower1257 @haruumei @kichiyosh1 @littlemisssatanist @dee-zbignuts @candyescapism @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @h3ll0-kitty-4lly @franaby @la-cursii @heusalettle @automaticpatroltragedy, @c4ttheart, @meigalaxy @misswetty @introvertaku02, @daiyunjin @trulyylee @lily-lmao @kazumiku @kunikuzushis-darling @vitanye @livelaughlovekuni @imnotyizhuo @akagi0021 @rook-kisser @mitsuribe @scaraenthusiast1 @chemiru @193i3 @matolka @tamikahoshiko @jayzioxx @samyayaya @dontmindtheevie @v3ntis-lyr3 @blvdmrcnry

[teagballs]

hello angel! I was wondering if you could write a Dennis Reynolds x fem!reader one shot where basically, reader is apart of the gang and has been for a while. Surprisingly, one time when Dennis was really angry, she calmed him down. Everyone was shocked the first, but slowly overtime got used to it. Dennis always ignored the warm feeling in his chest when she calmed him, but when he went on a date and got really mad and the girl tried to calm him down, he got even more angry than realised he liked reader??

sorry if it’s confusing 😭🫶

calmed | dennis reynolds x reader

read part 2 here!!

authors note: HEYOOO still alive. thank u sm for this prompt anon! tbh it was a bit of a challenge and i struggled 😭 i always struggle to write for dennis. i hope i did this idea justice cuz i love it. also this is my first iasip fic im publishing yayayay please send more requests for it im sooo deep into it rn. ive got a dee fic in the works rn.

cw: average dennis insanity ofc, swearing, mentions of D.E.N.N.I.S ing girls so yk, mentions of sex.

fic under the cut!

You can recall the first time you ever saw Dennis freak out.

"Idiots! Fucking idiots all of them!" Dennis ranted in his usual methodic tone. The gang wasn't phased, this sort of Dennis rant was something they'd become accustomed to. For you - the latest addition the gang - you had never witnessed one of Dennis' outbursts. It was probably that empathic nature or yours that made you want to act, to console him. And you did. Despite the gang's protests, once they noticed you about to leap into action. They knew it was better to just let Dennis ride out the anger and come down again. But you reached out and touched his arm. The gang collectively held their breath, expecting Dennis to bark out some obscenities in response, but it never came. The feeling of your hand on him made him turn to face you, to look at you.

"Dennis, it's okay, we'll fix this, I promise."

And he calmed. And took a deep breath.

"You know what? You're right. I can fix this." Dennis exhaled. Everyone was shocked,

"What the fuck just happened." Mac said blankly. In the whole time they had known him, Dennis had never been able to be pacified from one of these insane outbursts.

But then it became frequent, because Dennis's raging was frequent. Every time he would begin ranting and raving, you were able to calm him down. It was a voice of serene amidst the chaos. It went on for years like this, as you became part of the gang.

You were usually there hanging out with the gang when things would go wrong, and you'd be able to solve it and calm him down. But today, that wasn't the case. Today, Dennis was on a date.

Dennis was in the process of getting this woman to sleep with him, his stock procedure. But the date had been falling apart. It first started with his suit getting ruined. After dressing himself up in a nice blazer and shirt outfit, it was massacred by spaghetti after Mac spilt it on top of Dennis. Mac was haphazardly carrying it through their shared kitchen and failed to notice him.

"Christ Mac, what the hell are you doing!"

But that was okay. He could manage. He would just have to change. And although this did delay him, he could still D.E.N.N.I.S this girl. He could just say he was late because he was helping some old lady cross the street or looking after a stray kitten.

After successfully making it out of the door, he began to drive to the date. A cute restaurant not too far from his apartment, a picturesque rendezvous. But this was stalled even further by the lack of parking spaces available. Dennis groaned at threw his head back against the car headrest. After circling the block for what felt like the 100th time, Dennis decided to just park further away and book it to the restaurant. He settled for a tucked away corner of the city. Sure, it was far, but hey, at least it was a space.

Finally, after running to the entrance of the restaurant, he saw his date waiting, arms folded.

"Dennis! There you are! What took you so long?Are you.. okay? You look at a little out of sorts." Cadence spoke.

"Sorry. Sorry. Some old hags cat was- was trying to cross the road. I had to run from the other side of town." Dennis panted. He didn't expect the journey to have made him so debilitated. 'Not a perfect excuse, either. I might have messed up the wording..' he thought.

Dennis and his date, Cadence finally entered the restaurant. Dennis regained most of his breath and approached the host.

"Reynolds, table for two." He told the host.

The host scanned their notebook with a pen and searching eyes.

"Sorry, sir, I don't see anything for Reynolds here. Are you sure you booked for this restaurant?" The host replied. They lacked any kind of care for the situation, replying in a detached tone. Most likely years of working customer service had drained them.

"Am I sure I booked for- do you think I'm some kind of bumbling buffoon? Of course I fucking did!" Dennis snarled. Seemingly the frustrations from the evening were overflowing and spilling out.

"What do you take me for some kind of idiot!?" Dennis continued to bawl.

At this point, his date was getting embarrassed of his uncontrolled emotions. Cadence leaned in and touched his forearm. And maybe if it wasn't Dennis Reynolds she had performed this action on, it could have worked and soothed him.

"Dennis its okay, we can go eat somewhere else if you want?"

Immediately Dennis shook her grip off him.

"If I want? Why would I want to eat somewhere else when I made a fucking reservation here. What I want is to eat here!" He snapped, tapping his finger on the hosts notebook.

"Dennis, it's okay. We will do whatever you want." Cadence tried again.

"What I want? What I want is... well, what would you know about fixing shit! You're just..! Well, you're not.. not." Oh. And that's when it hit him.

What Dennis wanted now was not a reservation at this pseudo-rich restaurant. And he knew he certainly didn't want Cadence to try and comfort him. Her words didn't seem to hold any mindfulness or meaning... but yours did. She wasn't you. What he wanted was you. That's all he ever wanted. Everything else he had been doing for was a pathetic search to fill the void. The women he was trying to do, D.E.N.N.I.S, the dates he'd go on, the sex he would have, it all meant nothing.

All he wanted was you. A pure undivided love and something he had never felt before. Dennis had an unprofound realisation that he liked someone. Something most come to grips with in adolescents. But for him, that realisation was something he had never had. It made his heart ache and burn. He needed to act. He needed to call you and spill his heart out. Because no one was like you, and that's all he could think about as he turned on his heel and left the restaurant.