#future redeemed x reader

[frickingnerd]

caught making out with glimmer

pairing: glimmer rhodes x gn!reader

tags: silly & wholesome fluff, flustered/embarrassed!glimmer, matthew shulk & rex catching you two, drunk!glimmer at the end

glimmer didn't like showing her more soft and vulnerable side to others, so when the two of you got caught making out, it was a nightmare for her!

not only did you get caught making out to begin with, but out of all people to catch you, it had to be rex, shulk and matthew!

matthew is quick to tease glimmer about it, trying to lighten the mood after that initial awkward tension that was there. but teasing glimmer only makes it worse–!

while you quietly sit there, your head hanging low, as you try to avoid the gaze of the three guys who caught you, glimmer is yelling at matthew and running after him, trying to smack the boy for his stupid comments!

though after the initial anger washed over glimmer, the embarrassment hits her too! and while rex and shulk try to assure her that none of this is a big deal and they will pretend like it never happened, glimmer would prefer if it ACTUALLY didn't happen!

“i'm going to erase my memories of today… i'll find a way to do it, i promise–!” she mumbled to herself, as she paced around the room

you were slightly amused by that idea, but when glimmer suddenly pulled out a bottle of booze, you stopped smiling

“isn't that what rex always drinks? he can't remember anything the next morning after a few sips of this, so maybe it'll erase my memory too…” glimmer mumbled as she flipped of the cap and took a sip before you could even attempt to stop her

suddenly, your little make out session being interrupted became the least problem, as you now had a drunk girlfriend to look after…

[peachdues]

FAMILY MATTERS

Shinjuro Rengoku x Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Reader

A/N: so uhhh… y’all remember my Red Dress one shot? Well, here’s the continuation of that, except now, it’s Shinjuro’s turn.

There is nothing redeemable about this. It’s pure smut.

CW: MDNI • 7.2k • explicit sexual content below • cucking • breeding • creampie • Kyojuro sets his fiance up tbh but she’s into it • just nasty filth • doggy • rough rug sex • desk sex •

Senjuro ended up departing for a neighbor’s after dinner, and the Rengoku patriarch retired to bed not long after. Though the two of you should have been well on your way home, Kyojuro had gotten distracted.

“I thought of you all through dinner,” his breath is hot against your ear. One hand flips up the skirt of your sundress as the other fumbles with his belt. “How you sat there, talking to my father and brother while my seed leaked out of you.”

“Kyojuro — oh —“ you’re cut off by his bruising, rough kiss. You break away only with a sharp gasp as your fiance’s practiced fingers drag over the lacy seam of your underwear, your hips bucking into his touch. His mouth only slopes messily down your neck. Kyojuro growls into your skin in approval at the wetness he finds between your legs — a mixture of his cum and your renewed arousal.

“You drive me wild,” the leather around his hips gives way, and his fingers are nimble as they unfasten the top button of his pants.

You can’t hide the way your mouth runs dry, or how your thighs unconsciously press together as Kyojuro pulls his stiffened cock free. A thrill flutters in your stomach at the thought of getting on your knees before him and offering your mouth for his use. That excitement is doubled at the prospect of being inside your future father-in-law’s study, a place you wouldn’t have dared to venture had Kyojuro not led you here by the hand.

But that arousal grinds to a sharp halt when Kyojuro’s fingers curl under the edge of your underwear and yank them down your legs. A quick rustle of fabric indicates he’s shoved them into the pocket of his loosened pants, for safe-keeping.

Kyojuro gives himself a firm pump before lining himself up with your entrance.

“This is — Kyo — your father’s study —“

“I’m aware.” With one mighty thrust of his hips, he forces himself to the hilt inside you. “Keep quiet, my Flame.”

Once he’s confirmed that your hand is braced steadily behind you on the rich mahogany of his father’s desk, Kyojuro pulls back, his fingers deftly pushing the straps of your sundress from your shoulders. He tugs the bodice down to your waist and your breasts pebble at the sudden exposure to the warm air of the home office.

Kyojuro hums at the sight of the marks he’d left behind; the way the light from the fire dances across your exposed skin.

He begins with shallow thrusts that grow deeper, more forceful with every passing moment. Before long, you’re forced to smother your whimpers against the thick curve of his shoulder, your fingers curling under the edge of the desk as it rocks and creaks with his movements.

“Fuck, my love,” Kyojuro groans into your hair. “God, you feel too fucking good to stop.”

He must be desperate, you decide, given the way he steadily lets his weight fall into you until you’re forced back against the flat surface of the desk. If you weren’t too busy muffling your sounds of pleasure by burying your teeth into your bottom lip, you would’ve smiled. Kyojuro was so adorable when he was like this; when he gave into his more base desires to rut fast and deep.

Your fiance quiets his own euphoria by sealing his mouth against your throat. His moans rumble across your skin, chased by alternating flicks of his tongue nips of his teeth His hands grip you firmly by your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, anchoring you to him as he pushes faster and deeper into you.

A floorboard nearby creaks, but neither of you notice; you’re too enraptured in one another, your body already thrumming with a need for more that hot, saltiness you can’t help but crave that you know Kyojuro won’t be able to resist giving you.

Thank goodness for the card of neat little pills waiting on your nightstand at home; though you’d likely be pushing your luck, you’re optimistic that your fiancé will give you his fill and still get you back in time for you to take your birth control.

Kyojuro tears his mouth away from your neck and straightens, his nails digging into your hips as he jerks you to meet his bruising thrusts.

“What do you think, Father?” Kyojuro’s jovial tone makes you freeze and the sweat which has begun to cling to your skin turns cold. “Is the view better than you imagined?”

Instantly you jolt up, clinging to Kyojuro’s massive frame in an effort to keep yourself concealed.

A dismissive scoff sounds from a distant corner of the study. “It certainly isn’t worse.”

Dread curdles in your stomach as Kyojuro’s father steps out of the shadows. His face is hard and severe, even as he draws closer to the fireplace adjacent to his desk, the light of the flames offering no warmth.

You begin to squirm against Kyojuro, who is bewilderingly still buried snugly inside your warmth. Your anxious little taps against his chest, his shoulders, however, do nothing to spur him into action, no matter how you urge him away.

“Now, now, my Flame,” your fiancé tuts, quelling your protests with a warning thrust, shallow, but firm enough to cease your squirming. “You cannot deny you’ve been tempting him.”

Across the richly manicured office, the elder Rengoku’s eyes burn in silent agreement.

“In fact, I seem to recall you mentioning how fuckable you thought he still was.”

Your mouth falls open in horror. Not only was it an exaggeration of what you’d actually said (he could still get it, don’t you think?), but you’d said it to tease Kyojuro. In private.

“And I think we both know this little dress of yours was intentional. You know how we love red.”

Shane burns in your cheeks. You did. You’d worn the red sundress to bait your fiancé, but you’d also done it knowing the significance of the color red in the Rengoku family. And while your comment about the fuckability of the family’s patriarch had mostly been lighthearted, some part of you had always been curious.

Perhaps Kyojuro was right; maybe you’d been enticing the senior Rengoku just as much as you had his son.

But there’s a faint tinge of jealousy in Kyojuro’s tone that has your heart thumping madly against your sternum. It’s the kind he rarely showed even when you were openly flirted with in front of him, whether the two of you were out on a romantic dinner or simply running errands together. A sort of dominance that only ever manifested when Kyojuro perceived a threat — a person whose eyes lingered too long, or when someone simply got too close for comfort.

It is that possessive anger which shows now that his competition is his own father. Perhaps he is hoping the elder will be exactly that — an old man, limited in his age and unable to satisfy you the way Kyojuro knows how. Though, from your blushing once-over of Shinjuro’s form where he waits across the study, you quietly think perhaps Kyojuro has underestimated his father. While he may indulge in his stash of fine alcohol too often, Shinjuro remains agile as ever, his body, strong.

Your curiosity flames, lashing at you until it can no longer be ignored. For every way Kyojuro’s personality contrasted heavily with his father’s, you could not help but wonder whether that opposition continued in other areas. Namely, the way Kyojuro’s switch flipped the second you got him alone, riled up and heated was in diametric opposition to his ordinarily warm and sweet disposition.

Because, no matter how gentle and kind and warm Kyojuro was, rile him up enough and he turned into a downright fiend when left alone with you.

Shinjuro, in contrast, was anything but sunny and cheerful. At best, he was a crass old man with a habit of letting alcohol loosen his already too loose tongue. Assuming consistency was a variable in play, perhaps that meant he would be softer; more gentle.

Despite your embarrassment at having been discovered, you cannot deny your own longing.

Kyojuro grinds once more into you before withdrawing from your heat entirely. You wince at the loss of his warmth, fingers clawing at air to bring him back, to cover you with the safety of his body once more, but he only steps aside.

“If you’re gonna fuck in my house, little girl, then you’re gonna have to abide by my rules.” Shinjuro’s voice carries that deadly sort of authority you’d only ever heard him assert when dealing with business, and it’s severe enough that you find your spine straightening in answer. “And I believe in sharing.”

Your mouth falls open as though you have any basis to protest when you’ve been caught red-handed, but Shinjuro cuts you off.

“That’s my rule from now on.” He looks to his son. “You fuck her in my house, then it’s free use. That includes your brother, once he’s an adult. Don’t like it? keep it in your fuckin’ pants.”

Shinjuro’s attention slides back to you, and a sharp flutter shoots through the pit of your stomach at the leering desire in his eyes. “And I don’t care if you’re here visiting with your future kids. I’ll fuck you once they’re asleep.“

Any cautious optimism you had that Shinjuro might embrace the softer side of intimacy flew right out the delicately arched window of his study.

And yet, your curiosity lingers.

Hesitantly, you lower your eyes and see the rigid bulge straining against the seat of his pants. It looks almost identical to Kyojuro’s, but from your quick assessment, it seems his father boasts a greater thickness.

The thought of how that thickness might feel, buried inside your makes, makes your mouth go dry.

Warm, gentle fingers catch your chin. “Only if you want to.”

It is a whisper only meant for you to hear, and suddenly, some of your anxiety eases. You know, by the burning sincerity in his eyes, that if this truly was beyond your realm of comfort, Kyojuro would cut it off without you needing to even utter your safe word.

With a light gulp, you nod, the movement almost as imperceptible as Kyojuro’s eyes become unreadable. But he says nothing more; instead, Kyojuro merely steps away, leaving no barrier between you and his father. Predator and prey.

Self-consciousness has your arm jumping to lock itself over your chest, a futile attempt to conceal what has already been exposed.

Shinjuro stalks silently across the rug, drawing short of where you’re still spread atop the edge of his desk. The shadows dancing along the walls of his study do not conceal the way his tongue flicks out from between his lips, moistening them, the longer he stares between your parted thighs. You clench around nothing under the heat of Shinjuro’s gaze, and his eyes narrow like he knows.

Some of that burning desire tempers as Shinjuro’s eyes flick to your face. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

The abruptness of the question catches you off guard, and you’re shaking your head before you remember to demand why he’s asking in the first place.

Shinjuro’s eyes harden. “You’ve had the nerve to fuck this girl under my roof and you still haven’t knocked her up?” He scoffs, turning his attention back to his son. “I impregnated your mother the first time I brought her here. Have you no shame?”

A quiet anger simmers in Kyojuro’s eyes. “She’s on birth control.”

“No fuckin’ excuse,” Shinjuro pushes past his eldest, his eyes locked between your thighs, still spread wide. “The Rengoku family is known for its virility. You’ve embarrassed that legacy. Go sit down.”

Wordlessly, Kyojuro backs away, his anger burning hotly on his face. He crosses to one of the great, stuffed leather armchairs to the side of the hearth where the fire roars and settles in, his eyes bright.

Shinjuro turns his ire back to you. “You see that ring on your finger? The one paid for with our family’s money?” And your eyes drop to the beautiful engagement ring sitting on your left hand, placed there by Kyojuro. “That’s not just a gift, sweetheart. Deal was you get the ring and you give this family your womb.”

Some fiery, rebellious part of you balks at that, overtakes your own common senses. “The wedding is still a few months away.”

“You think that fuckin’ matters? That ring means you’re part of this family, little girl. And being in this family means pulling your weight.”

He reaches for you then, and it takes a concentrated amount of effort to not flinch away from him, no matter how wetness pools between your legs.

Shinjuro’s fingers curl around your forearm, tugging it away to expose your breasts.

“Not bad.” He clicks his tongue. He palms one in his hand, rolling it, pinching it between rough yet warm fingers, as though testing it. With an alarming swiftness, the tension in your limbs eases, your body turning pliant and supple under his touch, confident and knowing. The faint moans trembling in your throat under your future-in-law’s inspections quickly choke off with a yelp as Shinjuro gives one tit a firm slap.

He smirks. “They’ll be better once you’re good and fat with a kid. What, with your milk and all.” He closes his eyes and shudders. “So fuckin’ sweet. I couldn’t get enough of it with Rukka.”

Shinjuro jerks his head at Kyojuro where he settles into the great leather armchair by the mantle. “He’ll like it, too. Little degenerate, just like his old man.”

He fondles you once more, pulling a small whimper from you that makes him smirk. Shinjuro eyes one of the hickeys near the top of your nipple, left behind by Kyojuro’s earlier attentions and with a faint sneer, he flicks it.

You gasp and arch into him, goosebumps skittering along your skin and you quietly present yourself for more. The way he continues to palm you — rolling each breast in his hand, testing its weight — leaves you with the distinct impression that you’re little more than some prized brooding mare and he, your inspector. That feeling is only amplified when Shinjuro suddenly grabs your hips and forces you back against his desk, maneuvering your body in different positions to see how you bend.

“Arches her back nicely,” he remarks casually, as though discussing something as tepid as the weather. “Feels flexible, too. But none of that means shit if she’s not fertile.”

Shinjuro steps back, his hands planted on his hips, expectant. “Let’s see what we’re working with, girl. On the floor,” When you don’t move, too frozen atop the desk and uncertain of what he’s asking, he nods at the rug. “Go on — present yourself for me. Need to inspect the goods.”

With shaking legs, you lower yourself off the desk. Cheeks flushed with heat, you cast one last, anxious glance at your fiancé. Kyojuro, however, says nothing, his eyes boring into yours as he waits.

You’re doing this; you’re actually doing this. You are willingly lowering yourself to the great, ornate rug sprawled across the floor of the study, knees first, and then your hands, followed by your forearms.

Your heart hammers away at your chest as you wait, ass held high in the air, your cunt on open display. A soft thump of a body lowering itself behind you is followed by rough fingers that spread your ass cheeks, forcing your thighs to shift and widen. The faintest tickle of warm breath fans over your heated, drooling center, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying out in desperation.

“Pretty little pussy,” Shinjuro hums with faint appreciation. Two, thick fingers swipe harshly through your dampened folds, spreading your wetness from your clit to your entrance. “Glad he at least knows how to get you warmed up. You’re fucking soaked.”

His fingers circle your opening, pressing against it just enough to make you squirm into the rug, but not enough to alleviate the nearly painful way your cunt continues to flutter and clench around nothing.

“How does she take it — oh,” you can hear Shinjuro’s leering smirk as he slips his finger inside your fluttering entrance. “Sucked me right in. Least she knows what to do when she’s got somethin’ in her.”

He pumps another finger lazily into you as you moan your encouragement. “Does she taste as sweet as she smells?” Shinjuro’s voice is faintly hoarse as he addresses his son.

There’s a pause that seems to stretch on for an eternity. “Sweeter.” Comes Kyojuro’s answer, strained, though you cannot see his face from where his father has crowded you into the rug. “Father —“

“I ain’t gonna taste her.” Shinjuro brushes off your fiancé’s warning, flippant. “Don’t need to. She’s ready for a good breeding, I can tell just by the smell of her.” A sharp slap of a hand against your sex pulls a yelp from you, and yet you can’t stop from wiggling your hips in a silent plea for more. “But you have failed your duty in bringing about the next generation of our family. You both have.”

There’s a rustle of clothing behind you followed by the distinct click of a belt buckle. “So I’m correcting it.”

Shinjuro’s fingers find your clit again, his quiet signal that he is addressing you even though he turns your brain to mush beneath his expert touch. “Looks like I’ve gotta show my boy how to properly breed a woman, since he’s yet to put his brat in you.”

Your stomach clenches. If not for Shinjuro’s leg wedged thickly between yours, keeping you spread for him, you would’ve pressed your thighs together in anticipation.

Shinjuro shifts behind you, pushing his pants down past his knees. Your curiosity is too great to resist, and slyly, you throw a glance over your shoulder, eager to see if your predictions about the Rengoku patriarch’s endowments ring true.

Before you can confirm, a rough, demanding hand ensares itself in your hair. With a hard shove, Shinjuro forces your head down, deepening the arch in your back. Behind you, Kyojuro makes some faint noise of discontent at his father’s roughness with you, but he does not interfere.

“I can only assume it’s ‘cause he’s not fuckin’ you properly. That’s what happens when you spread your legs for boys. They don’t know what you need.” He lines his tip up with your entrance. “Need a man to fuck you right.”

With a single, deep thrust, Kyojuro’s father bottoms out inside you.

He does not bother to give you time to adjust to him; he’s moving before you manage to choke out a small sound of surprise, one that’s lost to the fierce smacking of skin meeting skin.

“You need to— fuck — her — like — this —“ Shinjuro grinds out, each word punctuated with a sharp slap of his pelvis against your rear. The fat of your ass jiggles with every lurid thrust, and the elder Rengoku’s balls — heavy and full of cum that you know he’s going to insist on unloading inside you — smacks against your clit in time with his movements.

A responsive moan vaguely registers to your right, and with great effort, you turn your head toward the sound, eyes squinting through the stray strands of hair that have fallen over your face.

You spy Kyojuro, seated in the great leather armchair by the study’s fireplace. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright as he watches where his father appears and disappears into your body. In his hand is his cock. Its tip matches the color of his lips, parted as he pants against the languid pumps of his fist.

Shinjuro must catch sight of his son too, and it only spurs him to move faster; harder. “You like looking at her while she gets fucked, don’t you?”

You crane your neck further to watch for your fiancé’s answer, but a pointed slam of Shinjuro’s cock deep into your warmth forces your eyes back into your head. The stretch from him is incredible and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, even with Kyojuro; a burning fullness that is almost as uncomfortable as it is pleasurable.

Kyojuro must nod, for his father only scoffs in dismissal.

“Yeah, I see why. She’s a pretty fuckin’ thing, isn’t she?” A harsh slap of his hand against your ass nearly sends you jolting forward. “Bet you treat her like a little princess; too delicate to handle a good pounding.”

If you weren’t so fixated on the way your breasts scrape against the coarse rug beneath you in a dizzying blend of pain-tinged pleasure, you might have laughed. Kyojuro was an adventurous lover, and a considerate one at that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to pin you down and fuck you when you wanted him to. Though, even Kyojuro’s roughest moments did not compare to the way his father now brutally fucked you into the floor of his study, his cock fat and heavy; as hard as steel.

Unlike Kyojuro, there is nothing loving about this; no tenderness. Shinjuro’s movements are nothing more than pure domination. He is not demanding your submission; he is forcing it.

The conversation between father and son is accompanied by a score of wet, sticky slaps of Shinjuro’s hips against your ass and the tiny little oh! oh! ohs! that you whimper into the rug. You soon find it impossible to fix your gaze on anything other than the diamond sitting delicately on your left ring finger; the way it glints and shines in the firelight as your fiancé’s father fucks you harder into the floor.

“That’s where you’ve gone wrong, boy. Fertile little things like this don’t want to romanced.” One broad, rough hand snaked up your spine to grip the nape of your neck, pushing your head down hard into the rug. “They want to be used.”

Shinjuro laughs, a harsh, jeering sound. “Just wanna be fucked stupid, isn’t that right?” His fingers tighten around your neck, commanding your attention despite the way he’s fucking your brain numb. “You just want someone to pump a baby into you. You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”

The skin of your kneecaps burn from the way they scrape against the rug under your future in-law’s unyielding pace, and it’s because of that stinging pain that you’re able to ground yourself enough to manage a single, jerky nod of your head.

“Tch. Then why are you on birth control?” Shinjuro growls between vicious, forceful thrusts, his pelvis slapping hard against your backside. “You holding out on this family?”

Shinjuro draws nearly all the way out before he slams back into you, the blunt head of his cock bullying right up against your sweet spot. A slew of profanities pour from your mouth into the rug below, and your toes curl violently as he shifts his hips forward and keeps himself pressed right against it, stilling his movements.

You want to howl; he’s pushed right against the most sensitive part inside your body, one that Kyojuro knows will have you making a mess of both yourself and him after only a few grazes. And yet, his father, the bastard that he is, has the head of his cock jammed right against it, with seemingly no inclination of moving anytime soon.

Nor does he seem to care how you writhe and whimper into his rug, either. Your legs vibrate against the floor, and your hips move of their own volition, desperate for relief, but Shinjuro’s hold on your neck strengthens.

It’s torture and he must know it. “Answer me.”

“Not ready!” You gasp, your hands balling into fists against the carpet, your nails biting into your palms as the throbbing deep in your cunt becomes nearly excruciating. “We said — ngh — we said we weren’t ready yet!”

You cry out at the sting of a hand smacking hard at your ass. “You’re marrying into an old family, sweetheart.” Shinjuro spanks you again, and tears spring into your eyes. Yet, despite the pain, you only throw your hips back, desperate for more. “Money ain’t a concern. Your job is to birth the next generation of Rengokus.”

Despite his admonition, Shinjuro resumes his movements, easing back into his previous pace as though he hadn’t paused to start. You nearly cry out in relief, your hips circling and grinding against him for more, just more.

“Doesn’t matter, now. Don’t worry, you pretty little thing. You’ll be begging me to put a son in you soon enough. But until then —“ a rough, bruising hand snakes its way into your hair, balling it between his fingers. Shinjuro jerks hard on your head before he mashes it into the rug below, your cheek chafing against the rough carpet. “I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you. My son needs to be taught a lesson.”

Your eyes strain to seek out your fiance once more. Kyojuro’s blush has deepened to a fierce crimson, though his eyes darken at the way his father shoves you down into the floor.

Kyojuro is a passionate lover; while he can and does fuck you hard, he always keeps well behind the line between rough sex and cruelty. His father, it seems, toes that boundary far more closely. You can tell this bothers your beloved fiance by the hard set of his jaw and the wait his teeth grit together.

And yet, as the noises pouring from your mouth out of you slide from high-pitched, breathy whimpers to deep, sultry moans, and the study fills with pointed wet schlicking sound as the Rengoku patriarch continues fucking you without mercy, Kyojuro does not interject.

His hand only tightens around his cock; the tempo of his movements, only growing in speed.

Shinjuro’s grip on your neck loosens before his hand pulls back to rejoin the other at your hips. A low whistle blows past his lips. “If only you could see the way she’s creamin’ all over me, Kyojuro — filthy thing loves being used.”

He grunts appreciatively as he jerks you back to meet his rapid movements. “Does she always make this mess on you?”

A deep, rumbling groan is Kyojuro’s only answer, and his father chuckles.

“I figured. Look at her, suckin’ me in like this. Practically beggin’ me to fuck a child into her.”

A sharp smack cuts through the air like a knife, the skin of your ass stinging as Shinjuro cocks his hand back and spanks you again. Harder and harder he rides you, and the bruising ache blooming between your thighs is one you know you’ll feel for days.

Shinjuro’s next thrust is forceful enough that it lays him nearly flat against your back, his chest heavy and hot, dampened with sweat. The coarse hair covering his sternum scrapes at your shoulders as the elder Rengoku tightens his hold on your hips.

“You picked a ripe one, Kyojuro, I’ll give you that. Pretty little cunt like this was meant to be filled.” A hand winds under you, and Shinjuro’s palm presses flat against your lower belly. “With hips like this, she was made to give this family more sons.”

“Pussy is even better pregnant.” Shinjuro declares to no one in particular, his whiskey-tinged breath hot against your ear. “All the hormones and shit. Makes things tighter. Wetter.” You twitch violently into him as his thumb glides harshly over your clit. “More sensitive too. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“You want her pregnant, don’t you, Kyojuro?” And before his son can answer, Shinjuro snorts. “Yeah, you do. Bet you’ve even beat off to the image of it — her all fat and swollen with a kid, tits leaking, pussy sweeter than wine. I know I would.”

Beads of sweat roll down the thick planes of Shinjuro’s chest and abdomen, staining your back. Each jolt of his body into yours produces a wet thwap that joins the lewd squelching your cunt as it gushes around his cock, as his body suctions to yours.

Teeth, sharp and brutal, nip harshly at your neck. “I like to think I’ve spoiled my boys, Y/N.” Your future in-law growls lowly in your ear. “They may not agree. But they didn’t want for nothin’. And I still like to indulge ‘em, every now and again.”

Shinjuro’s rough hand reaches under you to palm at your tits. “You love being a big brother, don’t you, Kyojuro? How about I put a new baby brother in your fiancé’s womb for ya? How’s that for a gift?”

You clench hard, your stomach nearly convulsing at how tightly you grip onto the thick cock bullying relentlessly into you right as Kyojuro looses a great, cracked moan.

“What my boy wants, he gets.” Shinjuro sounds so casual as he peels himself off you, straightening back up on his knees. One hand moves to press down on your lower back, deepening the arch of your spine until your ass returns to its position high in the air.

His grip on your hips tightens with bruising force as he resumes jerking you back to meet his movements. “You ready to beg yet, sweetheart? You gonna let me breed this tight little cunt? Give your fiancé a new brother to spoil?”

You hardly recognize any of the sounds pouring out of you, unable to concentrate on anything but the way the ache in your groin deepens, your desperate need to be filled becoming damn near painful.

Behind you, Shinjuro chuffs through gritted teeth. “Yeah, you’d like that, huh? You’d love walking around, plump and round with your father-in-law’s bastard, wouldn’t ya? It’d be your dirty little secret.”

There’s a frenzy to his movements now, the more Shinjuro becomes lost in his own fantasy. His balls slap harshly against your clit, the coarse thicket of his hair scraping against your raw flesh as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten. “Everyone would see you and my boy together and think such lovely things; a new family starting out. No one would know — no one would guess that you were pregnant because of how much you like bending over for your fiancé’s old man to let him breed you like the sow you are.”

The image of it — of you, attending some fancy gala with Kyojuro, happy and glowing while his father’s baby grows steadily in your stomach — has you throwing your hips back, circling and grinding with a desperation that makes your fiancé’s father laugh, harsh and bitter.

The sound only makes you clench harder around him. God, you need it; him, of all fucking people.

Shinjuro.

“Please, please, please —!” The request rolls freely off your tongue before you can think the better of it. Across the room, Kyojuro cries out, as wanton and desperate as you.

“Please,” Shinjuro mocks. “Please what?”

“A baby — give me a baby, please! Oh please please —“

“You want to give me another son, huh? Fucking mine isn’t enough for you?”

“Yes!” You sob, the skin of your cheek burning where it mashes against the rug, but you’re far too gone to care. “A son, please, oh please put a son in me! I want to be good, let me be good —“

You’ll do it, you’ll give the Rengoku family as many heirs as they need to know your worth; to know that Kyojuro made the right choice when he got down on one knee and presented you with a ring worth more than your own salary.

“Bout damn time you see things our way,” Shinjuro growls, and he shifts forward, planting one foot by your knee. “I’ll stuff you full.”

He bends over you again, his chest forcing your back to flatten, and you nearly drool at the coarse prickle of chest hair where it rubs between your shoulders.

The scent of woodsmoke and fine whisky clouds your head. “Tell me, do you think my son will still fuck you even while you’re carrying his brother?” Shinjuro’s eyes dart to where Kyojuro sits, his head thrown back and thighs spread wide as he pumps himself, a deep, drawn-out moan rumbling in his chest.

Shinjuro conceals his grin against the side of your head, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Yeah, I think he will. Your pussy’s too fuckin’ sweet to resist, isn’t that right, Kyojuro?”

“Yes.” Comes Kyojuro’s single reply, little more than a strained groan.

It’s too much; the obvious need in your fiancé’s voice coupled with the way his father so ruthlessly pumps into you, his cock stretching and filling you so perfectly as he hammers away all the right spots forces your eyes back into your head, your fingers clawing at the rug chafing your skin raw. The pressure in your stomach mounts until you feel almost ready to burst, every inch of you trembling as you wait for that familiar coil to spring.

Shinjuro swears lowly, once, sensing just how close you are to breaking apart, before he recovers.

“Just think, boy.” He calls out to his son, his voice boastful despite how he clenches his jaw. “Once her milk comes in, we won’t have to take turns having a taste. All we gotta do is sit her between us and each take a tit. Fun little father-son bonding. Whaddya say?”

Your eyes fly open. The image of it — of you straddled between the two Rengokus, both mouthing hotly at your swollen, aching breasts while your stomach sits round and full with a child that might have been fathered by one as much as the other — is your undoing.

Somewhere in the depths of the Rengoku ancestral estate, Kyojuro’s brother sleeps. You can only hope that his slumber remains peaceful, given the loud, cracked scream that rips free from you, burning your throat as your climax slams into you like a freight.

The coil in your stomach does not unwind; it explodes, blows apart in a mess of shrapnel capped with prolonged cry as your walls squeeze around your lover’s father’s thick, demanding cock.

“Oh fuck, she’s good,” Shinjuro throws his head back, eyes rolling into his head at the way your cunt seizes around him like a vice. “Harder, Y/N. Your father in law wants you to cum fuckin’ harder.”

One hand unlatches itself from its bruising grip at your hip, curling under you. Shinjuro pinches your clit firmly between the roughened pads of his fingers and your stomach seizes. A violent spasm of hot, searing pleasure rips sharply through your groin, sparking gush of sticky fluid to spring forth and coat the rug below.

“Daddy!” You cry out, too fucked out of your mind to fully register what has escaped your mouth; the slip you’ve made.

Daddy is reserved for Kyojuro — and under specific circumstances. Only after you’d been your most difficult, your most rotten, such that Kyojuro knew you were baiting him, waiting for him to pin you down and give you exactly what you wanted and set you right. Only after you were looking up at him through glassy eyes, so unbelievably fucked out of your head did the word Daddy ever leave your lips.

In a way, you suppose those conditions were present here. After all, it was your fiance who suggested you’d pranced around the Rengoku ancestral estate in your red dress to frustrate both him and his father. And Shinjuro is, in fact, fucking you halfway to hell and back, your brain having nearly liquified in your skull.

So really, he can’t fault you for getting your wires crossed.

“Daddy! Fuck — oh fuck, yes, yes, Daddy, daddy —!”

Kyojuro moans back in response, and that single sound — a ragged, pleasure-delirious thing — only makes you clamp down harder around his father’s thick cock.

“Yeah,” Shinjuro snorts, his laugh dark and cruel. “Yeah, I’m your fuckin’ daddy, aren’t I?”

You continue to howl for him until your voice gives out, quieting down in time with the slow ebbing of your climax, your body turning limp limb by limb. When the last of your orgasm echoes through you, you nearly collapse prostrate into the rug. You would have, if not for the bruising grip of hands latched firmly to your hips, keeping you in place.

You’re only permitted to relax for a moment before Shinjuro decides it’s time for him to make good on his oath to fuck a son into you.

A single, long draw of his hips nearly pulls his cock free of your sopping heat. But before that can happen, Shinjuro’s fingers dig into the fleshy part above your waist and without warning, he slams back into you, hard and brutal.

Air wheezes out of your lungs and you’re forced out of your post-orgasm haze, yanked right from the clouds of bliss and dropped back in the study as he repeats the movement once, twice.

You scramble to find purchase, your arm flailing out before you as you scramble to find purchase. Before you can, however, one rough, callused hand wraps firmly around your bicep, holding you down against the floor. The other snakes to your wrist and wrenches that arm behind your back, pinning it in place at the bottom of your spine.

And Shinjuro fucks you. Hard. Even more so than before.

You’re utterly at his mercy; little more than a toy, bouncing between his body and the floor of his sprawling study as Shinjuro chases his release. Your legs will be rubbed raw with friction, both from the rug beneath your knees and your hamstrings where Shinjuro’s thighs press firmly into yours, his hair as coarse and wild as what grows from his head.

Behind you, the elder Rengoku’s breaths have turned ragged.

“Hold her — fuck — hold her down like this when you cum.”

Whereas Kyojuro’s climaxes are always accompanied by loud, strangled groans, euphoric and lilting, Shinjuro comes with a deep, snarling grunt. With a final, bruising thrust, fiancés father-bottoms out inside you. His hips shove heavily into yours, pushing hard against your ass as he presses his cock as deep as possible. The force of it bends your spine, making Shinjuro distribute half his weight between his hips and his arms where he holds you down. He comes as powerfully as he’d claimed you, his orgasm every bit as punishing and relentless as the rest of him.

Your eyes roll back into your head at the first spurt of his cum, your mouth falling open. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth, trickling down your cheek and dampening the fibers of the rug.

Deep; your father-in-law’s cock is so fucking deep in you, his cum hot and thick as it coats your womb. Distantly, you hear the pleasured cry of Kyojuro as he reaches his own climax, his seed spilling hot and fast over his fist as he watches his father unload himself inside you.

“Feel me pulsing, doll?” Shinjuro grits through clenched teeth. “That’s me puttin’ our next heir in you.”

The only response you can manage is a faint moan. It takes a moment for you to feel it; the tell-tale gush of cum that always leaks out of you after you’ve been filled, tangible proof of how thoroughly you’d been claimed. And it strikes you that the delay is the result of how deep inside of you Shinjuro had been when he came.

Deeper, you silently concede, albeit begrudgingly, than Kyojuro has ever reached.

But then it comes; a thick trickle of hot fluid spilling over where your bodies are connected, Shinjuro’s balls twitching against your throbbing clit as he continues to unload himself inside you. Dizzy with the pleasure of feeling his cum, so warm and viscous, you cant your hips back into his, mewling your gratitude.

Full; you’re so very full of your father-in-law’s cock and cum. So very sated.

There’s a triumphant exhale behind you, and you don’t need to turn to know Shinjuro wears that self-satisfied smirk of his, the one he always had whenever he successfully trounced his son in front of an audience. His hand releases its crushing grip on the wrist he’d pinned behind your back in favor of rubbing your ass where it circles against his base, though whether it’s out of appreciation for you or a further brag to his son, you can’t say.

The elder Rengoku holds himself in place for a moment longer, ensuring every last drop of his seed is properly deposited into your waiting womb. Only when he’s satisfied nothing remains, does he pull out, not bothering to give you any warning as your body spasms and winces at the loss of his warmth.

The air at your back turns cool, no longer invaded by his lumbering body. A chill snakes down your spine at the sudden draftiness of the study as the sweat glistening along your back and staining your dress cools. Some of your awareness — and your contempt — returns to you as the spell cast over you by Shinjuro dissipates. You focus on each muscle of your body, identifying what you’re still able to love as you prepare to push yourself up from the floor, when two, broad hands latch around your waist.

Shinjuro cares not for your small whimpers and whines as he forces you to turn around on your raw knees, not letting you rest until your rear faces Kyojuro.

“There, that’s a properly bred pussy,” Shinjuro announces with a not-so-gentle smack of his hand against your swollen, dripping folds. “Take a look, son.”

A derisive snort shoves its way through your nose. Of course, it isn’t enough for Shinjuro to have fucked his son’s fiance right in front of him; now he has to show off his work.

But do you resist? Of course not, nor does Kyojuro protest, panting as he comes down from his own high where he sits near the fireplace.

“See that?” Two rough fingers catch a thick bead of Shinjuro’s cum as it slides down your inner thigh. “You want a baby? Don’t let a single drop go to waste. Fingers or your cock, it doesn’t matter — just make sure it stays inside.”

You focus on calming your own breathing, relief settling into your bones as Shinjuro pulls his hand away at last.

A moment passes, undisturbed except for the labor of your mutual breathing, when Shinjuro breaks the silence once more.

“But I’m gonna let you fuck my seed back into her.”

And with that, he leaves you crumpled helplessly on the floor, departing only with a sharp smack to your ass, still held high in the air.

He motions for Kyojuro to move and confounding, his son complies, half-jumping out of the leather armchair in his haste, his pants around his knees. Wordlessly, Shinjuro settles into his seat, one arm folded behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand wraps around his drooling cock, still hard and shiny with the combination of your cum and his.

“Go on, boy,” the elder Rengoku juts his chin to where you lay limp on the floor, your red dress pulled down bunched around your waist. He gives himself a firm pump with his fist and his mouth settles into a leering smirk. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

I’ll see you all in hell

[magerightsmagefights]

I know people tend to forget Wyll a lot in this fandom (I wonder why. What Could Possibly Be Different. Can you spot the difference?/s) but I'm genuinely surprised at the lack of Durge x Wyll content. Especially if you're going Redeemed, there's that inherent flavor of "My lover cannot know the truth, I am horrible and they would hate me, they would be correct to hate me." And with Wyll it's just... so juicy, he's so pure and shining, and Durge is so filled with filth and misery that there's barely a person left underneath.

Idk, as a femme romance reader I've spent so many years reading the "love redeems" arc where a FMC plays beauty to an MMC beast, in every genre, medium, budget, etc. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but beauty and the beast as a story structure has never done it for me.

until it's reversed, apparently, because Wyll as the beauty to Durge's beast needs to be injected directly into my veins like yesterday. All the other companions are good and sweet, don't get me wrong, but their reactions are coded like 'i accept you,' where Wyll to me comes off much more as 'we will heal you.' He doesn't have any funny little quips about you trying to bite him, no innuendos, no "I Will Put You Down" a la Laezel, he's just... so good, and he believes in your inherent goodness, he so easily sees "you" and "your urges" as wholly seperate entities he would step between if he could.

Speaking of which!! The coronation scene, when everyone finds out you're Bhaalspawn? I never see anyone talking about Wyll's reaction compared to other companions getting angry (even Dark Shadowheart will yell at you) because Wyll seems to be the ONLY PERSON who immediately separates you(the person he knows) from you(the person you used to be). Astarion isn't angry, he even appreciates your scheme freeing him from Cazador, but he also kinda falls into the whole "I will talk to you as if you are the exact same person who did these things, this is Your True Nature and I feel positive about it."

Wyll's reaction feels like the only one saying "You WERE that," instead of "You ARE that." It also feels like the only one that kinda-sorta acknowledges Durge's actual amnesia, because he doesn't treat this revelation like a betrayal the way the other "good" companions do. They be saying "The real evil was hiding within our ranks all along" like wym hiding? Durge didn't know either, how tf they supposed to tell you?

Wyll doesn't even blink. Once he knows what you are, his No.1 priority is reassuring YOU about it. The fact you're Bhaalspawn isn't a betrayal; it's a Horrible Burden and he's sorry you have to bear it, but there have been others like you who were good, who overcame, and your blood isn't who you are. His first instinct is to offer hope, to reassure you that there's a way out, he believes so hard that your urges are a defeatable enemy and he's ready to fight them with you.

(I also fall into the Durge And Gortash Fucked camp, and I cannot overstate the tastiness of Durge waltzing into the coronation of their ex, the Worst Man Alive, while bringing along their new boyfriend, the Best Man Alive)

Idk, I've just never engaged in a romance where I played the part of the Beast. As much as people rag on pure, princely archetypes, I don't actually see them that often. I genuinely don't remember the last time I read/saw a male lead behave like Wyll, but I've seen plenty of Astarions, Fenrises, Rhysands, etc. Romance loves a fixable MMC, but so rarely an MMC who wants to do the fixing.

Anyway. Justice for Wyll or whatever. I can only cross my fingers that future DLC will include more romance content, because we all deserve to have a Beauty for our Beast sometimes.

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor x Reader

𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥? pt 2

( part 1 here ) ( part 3 here )

 Husk was the first to notice me, since we both thought I was going to die. 

“Oh (Y/n) you son of a bitch!” Angel grabbed me tightly into a hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Charlie ran up with Vaggie tailing her.

“How did you do it?” Vaggie and Charlie asked at the same time. Husk looked over and barked out, “How did she do what? Because she saved him and she also somehow saved herself from Boss Man’s wrath.” He took a swig of his drink, eyeing me suspiciously. I knew he was going to pamper me with a million questions later. 

“Well, I just offered Vox information that sounded valuable in a state of dire quick thinking. Sure, he can be smart, but not on the spot. It was simply a trick play of environment and temptation.” After all, isn’t that what I’m good at? 

“What was the info you gave?” Curiosity got the best of Angel. I smiled before pressing a finger to my lips.

“Can’t spill. Even if I wanted to.” A red magic spread across my face where it looked like my mouth was sewed shut. Angel recognized it from when he saw my chains appear before. 

“Oh doll…” Pity. A look of pity is all I received and it made my chest tighten. My eyes scanned quickly over everyone. Everyone had the look of pity. I wiped the magic off before laughing dryly. “I have my ways around it obviously.” I waved them off. I don’t need their pity. I chose this. I just regret it lately. Alastor wasn’t always this closed off, at least not to me. We used to share almost everything. It was us against the world until he left me alone in it, twice.

“So, I take it we pissed off the Vee’s?” Vaggie stated as she looked at me and Charlie. She was holding up her phone that had Velvette’s recent social media post explicitly saying that Hell was about to freeze over.

“Well, it did give us the chance to actually redeem Angel Dust.” 

“Everything comes with a price though, Charlie.” I alluded to what was to come. The battles I can see happening here in the future are enough to worry me on what’s to come. The future is so unsettled on what can happen right now that I can only see small things and not the big picture. I felt a tightness in my chest again. 

“Stand straight darling.” Alastor smoothly spoke behind me as he pushed his hand against the small of my back and drifted up to make my spine straighten. I hate how he only gets on my case about that when Husk literally has a hunch back at this point. Deep breaths (Y/n). Deep breaths.

“Thanks sir.” I said through gritted teeth. Alastor flinched slightly at how I called him sir and how tightly I said it. He looked at me as if asking with his eyes, What is your problem? I couldn’t help but shift my jaw tighter. I squinted my eyes, You’re the problem dick. He clenched his jaw as well and pressed his hand harder into the small of my back, any harder and he would be pushing me. Somehow though, I noticed how his presence made the tightness in my chest go away. Despite the fact we were arguing through our eyes. Charlie turned towards Alastor, dragging our conversation to a quick halt. 

“What should we do in preparation?” She was mostly looking at me and not Alastor which made my once annoyed face into a smug one. They are looking towards me for leadership now. I warned you Al, don’t play with fire. After all, you are the reason I’m down in this mess anyway.

“We need to cover all our bases and make it seem like we aren’t even worried about whatever they are doing, and continue business as normal. Alastor and I will cover the rest. Just watch each other and don’t leave without a partner for a little while.” He seemed to relish in the fact I still sounded like I needed him. I can’t help but feel like he loves that feeling, even if he left me and still won’t tell me anything anymore. 

After spilling plans with Charlie and the team on what our next moves should be, I dismissed myself towards a separate room. I know he can feel the slight anger during our whole interaction because he swiftly follows me. 

“Yes, Alastor?” He smiled wider with his stupid half lidded eyes. But my god do I always melt- stop it. You’re mad, remember? How could he keep playing with your feelings? It's like these seven years took everything we built between each other and ripped it to shreds as if we were never anything. Were we though? 

“Inner battles dear?” I wish he would let that cheesy smile slip once or at least make it look sincere again. 

“You tell me. You’re the one who kicked me out of my own room.” He hummed playfully as I scrunched my face in anger.

“Well, since you’re my pet, it’s also my room.” That cocky motherf-

“We need to talk, Alastor. I want to begin the negotiation of my contract coming up soon.” A slip, his eyes screamed worry but then it was gone. Bingo.

“Renewing it again? We both know you will.” My smile matched his which unnerved him slightly.

“Remind me why again. If I remember correctly, you abandoned me for seven years, won’t talk to me anymore, and have been acting weird lately. You aren’t the Alastor I signed my soul away to.” I seethed. He was holding his jaw so tight I thought he was about to crack his teeth. I leaned closer, almost on my tippy toes to get in his face, his head looked down at me. I saw a glimpse of those eyes he used to give me. The eyes he would stare at me with while I listened to him talk for hours. Then they were replaced with a slight hurt. He opened his mouth, his smile quivering as he thought of the right words.

“There you are! Nifty got stuck in the toilet again, can you help us get her out?” Charlie spoke loudly. Everything I was about to get, all the answers, just…

…gone.

The feeling of overwhelming… EVERYTHING. I wanted to yell at Charlie. 

Why can’t you just wait? Fuck Charlie, you just ruined everything.

Alastor quickly fixed all the vulnerabilities he had and proclaimed, “Well of course! What type of help would I be around here if I didn’t?” I watched him walk away with Charlie, a hurt look that he caught when he glanced back. 

His smile faltered quick enough for me to see it. His eyes glanced at Charlie as if trying to tell me something before he fixed his behavior and carried on as normal with her when she looked back at him. They swiftly walked out as I was left in the entertainment room. 

Alastor, what did you do?

Husk was at the bar cleaning glasses from Angel and Cherri Bomb’s celebration. Swirling around my drink, wishing I didn’t drink as much as I did. I will hand it to Angel and Cherri for having such a persuasive way with drinking. My hair was slightly messy, my normal pantsuit switched out to my comfy clothes, and my eyes looked tired. 

“You finally going to admit you had too much yet?” Husk chuckled out. I chuckled back before I sipped the rest of my drink down quickly. The glass hitting the counter answered Husk instead, and the sound of it sliding down to him as I smiled at him.

“Nope.” I taunted back. He shook his head, pouring more into my cup, and gently sat in front of me. I stared at it for a little while before Husk sighed and piped up, “Penny for your thoughts?” He knew I loved it when he said the sayings I normally do. Made me feel like we really are real friends, despite the situation we are both in. 

“Well, I think I have a theory on what has Alastor… different.” I was careful with my choice of words as Husk eyed me. He knew I was never going to let this new Alastor last long. I mean Husk even was starting to get treated more like a dog rather than someone who helps Alastor with a slight rough friendship. Hard to believe we were all friends once. 

“Continue?” Husk poured himself a matching drink as he watched me intensely. This isn’t something I would bring out loud unless I had some sort of evidence pointing towards it. I shuffled my hands around before stealing a quick sip of my drink.

“I think Alastor made a deal he regrets but can’t talk about.” 

(Part 3...?)

(Lore buildingggg I promise next update will have one question answered. Can you guess which one? As always all characters and world belongs to the respected owners <3 story belongs to me. Tagged who I could! Thank you for loving the first one!)

(Should I add the songs that inspire the writing?)

TAG LIST: @immortal-ries @kat-nee @shybananabagellover @tiedyedghoulette @alyslovesflowers @seven709 @vixie--21 @montis-posts @trashbin-nie @sh3sa1dwhat @for-hearthand-home @funtimefreddynaofficial @jyoongim @eviebuggg

[alastorss]

Hii I love your writing! Is it alright if you do headcanons for platonic Alastor x teen reader where we're his teen daughter? I feel like he'd be fun to gossip with- is it alright if you do some headcanons on what he'd be like if guys asked us out too?

a/n: hi hello sweetest! thank you for reading 🫶 please enjoy these headcanons!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

• Oh Alastor... he's absolutely a huge gossip. He knows everyone's business because he's always poking his nose around where it doesn't belong

• Also, he's got connections all over town so you best believe he knows everyone's business even outside the hotel

• I honestly don't think Alastor knows all that much about parenthood, only that it's now his responsibility how you turn out as an adult

• Passes down his mother's recipes to you so that if you two are separated when you get older, you'll always have a piece of him

• He's not good at expressing how much he cares about you so doing little things like that are the easiest way for him to get his point across

• Frets over you to make sure you're dressed properly, makes sure you're fed every day, and has endless stories to tell you about in case you get bored (would tell you about all the murders he did when he was alive and look so proud)

• Doesn't take you talking back to him well. Makes his problems with your attitude very vocal but never lays a hand on you

• (Upon further discussion with others, learns to just give you space when you're going through something)

• He wouldn't know if he'd want you to be just like your old man (evil, sadistic, insane) or if he wants to see you be redeemed and to shape you into that type of demon (kind, patient, sort of like Charlie)

• Would be so proud of you for killing other demons but then worry about your future if you end up staying in Hell

• Alastor is an overprotective dad. I know it, you know it, we all know it. There are few things he cares about in his afterlife, but you are close to the top if not the top of the list of his priorities

• Oh boy. Someone's flirting with you? They better be worthy of the Radio Demon's child otherwise they're in for a world of hurt

• Sulks and complains in his own roundabout ways when you bring guys home, bitching about them because he thinks they're nothing more than pests flocking around you

• If anyone breaks your heart... let's just say you're no stranger to hearing some familiar voices in your dad's broadcast

• Alastor scoffs at those who try to ask you out, having the balls to show up at the doorstep of the hotel. They're not worth any of your time but as long as you're not bothered by it, he'll allow it

• Still doesn't see the appeal in all this romance stuff. Is delighted when you just turn people down and acts so proud because you take after him

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc (send an ask to be added!)

[potatoplace]

So Long, London

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | betty (part 2)| next part

the 1 masterlist (alt endings) | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: An illness spreads through Velaris, primarily impacting new mothers and their young, and you and your child are not spared. Azriel continues to make questionable choices, even as your life lays in the balance.

Warnings: suicide attempt mentions, illness leading to disability, infidelity, Azriel is as expected for this series...

Words: ~5.6k

Author's Note: So I reaaally wanted to get this out in one part, but I have cute fluffy plans for Reader's future in the Day Court. This should be the last of the full on angst in this ending of 'the 1,' after this installment it should be primarily happy times! Also... Can I just say how sorry I am to Azriel? Because in this series I cannot seem to give him one redeeming quality. He's just a total piece of shit the entire time. Aaaanways. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

It was nearly eight months since Nova’s birth when a mysterious illness ravaged Velaris, primarily effecting young children and their mothers.

And you and your precious baby girl were no exception.

Nova had stopped sleeping for longer than an hour, and refusing all solid foods. She was barely taking the milk you tried to ply her with, her tiny mouth refusing to suckle on the bottle you offered her.

You weren’t feeling much better, and by the time you managed to struggle your way to Madja’s clinic, you were on the verge of passing out.

Your mate was nowhere to be found, and no amount of you tugging on the frail bond summoned him to your side, brought him to comfort you and help care for your baby.

You just barely made it inside the door, Madja’s worried face greeting you as she took in your weakened state, the crying babe in your arms, the lack of your mate by your side. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and just before you fell to the floor Madja was able to take Nova from your arms.

When you woke later, your head felt stuffed with cotton, your lungs and throat burning in pain.

It almost felt like the bond was broken again.

“Oh, thank the mother Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre’s worried voice said, a cool hand running across your forehead.

You cracked your eyes open, squinting at the light above you.

You were back in your room in the River House.

“Nova, is she-” you started to ask, attempting to sit up, but Feyre shushed you and gently pushed you back into the bed.

“Nova is fine, she’s recovering well so far, and she’s even taking soft foods again. You got her here in time,” Feyre said softly, and you let out a relieved breath. Nova is safe. “Madja managed to make a medicine to combat the illness, though it appears to be more effective in children. I was more worried for you, if I’m being honest…”

Feyre’s eyes were watery as she looked down at you, and the situation was so similar to after you had attempted to take your life, the only change being that your other two sisters were missing.

Not for long, though, as your sisters entered the room in the next minute, Nova in their arms.

She looked to be doing so much better than before, her cheeks their normal rosy red and her cute little lips curved up into a smile, which only widened once she saw you, her beautiful hazel eyes growing larger. Her tiny hands reached out for you, wings fluttering as she tried to leave Elain’s arms.

“Can I- is it safe for me to hold her?” You asked, hoping more than ever before that you would be able to. The last time you had held her, she had been so sick, you needed to feel her healthy in your arms again. You pushed yourself up to lay against the headboard, surprised at how tired you were from that action alone. Your lungs and throat felt like they were on fire with each breath, and Feyre quickly gave you a sip of cold water to soothe it.

“I don’t see why not, she won’t be able to get sick again with the medicine still being administered,” Madja’s strong voice said as she entered the room behind your sisters, making her way to your side. Feyre scooted back to give her space to examine you, and Elain quickly placed your precious little girl in your arms.

And everything felt right again, her adorable face staring up at you, hands grabbing at your face. Even as your arms ached from the weight of her, you welcomed it as long as you had her.

Your sweet, guiding light. Your reason for being, ever since you had fallen pregnant.

“Do you know where Azriel is?” You asked quietly as Madja waved her hands over you, examining you with her magic.

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of Nesta at the question, and she snarled, “No. In the night and day that you’ve been unconscious, the stupid bat hasn’t managed to show his face here once. You would think that his mate and child being sick would warrant an appearance from whatever bullshit he’s busy with.”

You sighed, but nodded your head. “It’s alright, I’m sure it’s something important. Nova is the most important thing to him in the world.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and scoffed, but Elain placed a gentle hand on your leg.

“I’m sure you’re right, Y/N. And I’m just so happy that you and Nova are doing better, we were so worried for you,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of losing either of you.”

You smiled at Elain. The two of you had gotten nearly as close as you and Feyre in the past two years since… Everything happened, and you were delighted to be her confidant as she pursued the bond with Lucien, loving to hear about how much they actually had in common, including their love for nature.

It was so nice to hear about a happy courtship for you sister, one that you had nothing to be jealous about.

Except… Maybe the way that Lucien looked at her, like she was the sun that his world revolved around.

Azriel had never looked at you like that, not even during the mating frenzy…

You looked back at Nova, her hands now tangled in your hair and a beaming smile on her face, chubby cheeks nearly covering her eyes.

Nova was your sun, that was certain.

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to advise that you stay on bedrest for the next few weeks, I want you to fully recover from this. Your lungs have been damaged by the illness, and I want to prevent any more form happening,” Madja said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

“Damage?” Feyre asked before you could.

Madja sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid there will be long-lasting damage to your lungs, Y/N. You may no longer be able to run, or walk for long distances. You should be able to carry on with most of your everyday tasks,” she added, as if to console you.

“But… I may never be able to run after my daughter?” You pondered quietly, the thought breaking your heart as you looked at her.

“I’m afraid that might be the case. But, once you’re fully recovered from the illness itself, we can start building your stamina up again. I do hope that you’ll be able to play with Nova however you want,” Madja answered, giving a soft smile to your cooing child.

You nodded your head, attempting to process the information. “Will Nova have the same problems?”

“No, the medicine was effective enough to stop any damage from occurring, and you got her here before she was truly in trouble. You did an amazing job of taking care of her, Y/N.”

Tears pricked your eyes at her kind words.

You had kept her safe.

But as you clutched Nova to your chest, your arms started to tire, shaking slightly.

Feyre, eyes tracking your every movement, noticed. “Can I hold my sweet niece?” She asked, and you reluctantly passed her over, though you were grateful for Feyre giving you an out.

“I’ll have you take this medicine once every four hours, and Feyre can charm the clock to ring for you so you can rest as much as you need,” Madja said as she placed a bottle on your nightstand, next to your water glass.

“That won’t be necessary, at least one of us will be with her at all times,” Nesta said, a hand squeezing one of yours. You turned to look at her, and you were surprised to see a hint of a smile on her face as she looked at you.

“Thank you, Nes,” you whispered. “So I just��� Lay here?”

“You’re welcome to do anything that doesn’t require you leaving the bed, so anything like reading, knitting, or sewing would be fine, I suppose. Just make sure you get plenty of sleep, alright?” You nodded your head, and Madja gave you a warm smile in return. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair for now, but I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you again."

And then you were left with your sisters and Nova, who was currently playing with Feyre’s necklace, sticking it in her mouth and sucking on the edge of the moon shaped pendant.

“Feyre, has Rhys had any luck finding Azriel?” Elain asked after a few minutes of all of you staring at Nova, each minute more adorable than the last, in your opinion.

“No, Rhys said his mental walls are still impenetrable without hurting him, but he’s doing his best to track him down,” Feyre said quietly.

You knew where he was.

Or, at least, you had a good idea.

Your mate, your husband had a… Habit… Of spending the night at other female’s homes.

Especially since Nova was born.

It had never lasted past the morning, though.

“It’s fine, he’ll show up at some point,” you said with a sad smile, locking your eyes onto Nova. “Could you get in bed with me FeyFey? That way we can cuddle Nova together.”

“Of course, sissy. Nova missed you, even just overnight. She’s such a momma’s girl,” Feyre cooed as she crawled under the covers with you, laying Nova across her chest so she was looking at you. “I hope my little one is as attached to me when they grow up.”

“Oh, you know that will happen FeyFey. There’s no way that little baby won’t absolutely adore you from birth, with how wonderful you are with Nova,” you assured her, bringing a hand up to caress Nova’s face.

“I agree with you, Y/N, you and Rhys will be such perfect parents. Just look at how the both of you are handling your pregnancy so far!” Elain said excitedly, crawling onto the foot of the bed. “And I can only hope that if Lucien and I have children, that I can be as amazing a mother as you are, Y/N. You make it look so easy, and Nova is so perfect.”

You blushed, though it was hardly noticeable with how warm your cheeks already were. “Thank you, ‘Lainey. I know you’ll be a great mother, you always seemed to have the most motherly instincts.”

Elain blushed lightly and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, it will all start with Lucien and I agreeing to get married and mated fully. But that seems like it’s just around the corner, and I really hope it is. I just know he would be a wonderful father,” she said dreamily.

“Cassian would be good father, I think. Though I’m… Not sure that I would be a suitable mother,” Nesta admitted quietly, crawling under the covers on your other side.

“Oh, nonsense Nes. You’ll be a great mother, too. I didn’t think that I would be the best mother, either, but all it really takes is seeing their face that first time. The first little blink, seeing their eye color, getting to smell that sweet baby smell… Every little moment is so special, you never want it to end. You don’t think you’ll be good at it, Nes, but you will be wonderful. I know you will.”

Nesta leaned into you, her face against your shoulder. You could feel her smile, even as she tried to hide it. “Thank you, munchkin.”

“‘Lainey, get up here. It’s not the same without you snuggled up with us,” you demanded, patting the space next to Feyre.

“Alright, I’m coming,” she said, rolling her eyes as she got under the covers next to Feyre.

Within a few minutes, after taking your medicine and surrounded by your sisters and your sweet Nova next to you, you fell into a deep sleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

“Where were you?!”

“I was busy-”

“Oh? With what? What could be more important than your mate and child being sick?! What could be so important you couldn’t answer your High Lord and Lady within an hour?! Let alone twenty four?!”

“They’re sick?!”

“Yes, you fucking imbecile! Why do you think we were constantly trying to reach you?! Why your mate was unconscious?!”

“I don’t know, sometimes she shuts me out-”

“Oh, don’t try that, Azriel. We all know that Y/N is the one who actually cares about the bond, you just saunter around acting like you do while you’re in front of us.”

“Where do you get off talking to me like that?!”

“Where do YOU get off treating our sister like trash?! If you didn’t want the fucking bond, why-”

“Enough! That is enough from the both of you. Y/N can hear you,” Rhys hissed, and the yelling quieted.

“Where were you, Azriel?” Feyre’s voice.

“I got caught up with some surveillance-”

“Oh, don’t bullshit us Az. We all know that you weren’t assigned anything last night, or this morning.” Cassian.

Silence.

“You- oh Cauldron, Azriel. I cannot believe you,” Rhys said, disgust dripping from his words. “Go in there and tell her. Or I will.”

“What?” Nesta asked. You could almost picture her looking between the two of them, a thunderous expression on her face. She always did hate being left in the dark.

You, though… You were in broad daylight, already knowing what Azriel had to tell you.

This would be the first true confirmation you had of his infidelity, though.

The door opened, the soft sound of the knob turning, and the gentle way he shut it behind him.

“Y/N, I…”

“Don’t, Azriel. I know.”

Footsteps, so quiet you could barely hear it. “You… You do?”

You sighed, rubbing at your chest to alleviate the pain that came with breathing. “Of course I do. Do you really think that your subtle? That your Spymaster abilities transfer over to your personal life? Because they never have.”

“Why did you stay?”

Another painful sigh. “Nova. She deserves two parents.” And I’ve held onto the foolish hope that you would one day love me for me.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N. Really, you have no idea how sorry I am. I have been a horrible, awful mate to you, but I will do better. I will do right by you, I swear.”

You looked away from his hazel eyes, those hazel eyes that you love so much.

Because you love him. You do.

“Okay. Go get Nova and come to bed.”

Azriel blinked at you. “Okay.”

And that was that. Azriel got Nova from Elain in the other room, who had taken her away at the first sign of arguing. He peeled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, then came under the sheets, snuggling up next to you with Nova on his chest, already fast asleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next month was spent entirely on bed rest, and still in your room at the River House.

Madja has told you it was fine for you to go back to your and Azriel’s home, but… You felt safer, knowing that your sisters were likely to be around, Feyre especially.

Your twin sister had been… Angered, to say the least, at Azriel’s treatment of you, though you’d calmed her to the point that she was mainly only being passive aggressive to your husband.

But once you were able to walk short distances, and manage a few stairs, you felt you had overstayed your welcome at the River House long enough.

Azriel had carried you home, followed closely by Feyre, carrying Nova in a sling across her chest.

You ached to be able to do that again, to be able to confidently hold your child even while standing.

The one good thing about bedrest? It gave you plenty of time to improve your knitting, sewing, and embroidery skills. Nova now had plenty of clothes for the next three months of growth, all fitted to work around her wings while keeping her as covered as possible.

You had already started on a large chest of clothes for Feyre’s expected child, wanting somehow to repay her for all the grief you had put her through over the past two years. And, it was nice to create something and see all of the joyful possibilities that could come with it.

Not that making clothes for Nova didn’t fulfill that for you too, but… It was more the lack of future that you continued to see with Azriel.

You want Nova to have her father in her life, that was true. Azriel was a wonderful father when he wasn’t busy with work or… Other obligations.

But as a mate…? You were left wanting, and hurt.

He did help you with your recovery, making sure that you got enough movement in every day and pushed yourself just enough to keep making progress.

But three months into you being home…

Azriel didn’t make it back in time for bed.

And you knew that you needed to leave.

Elain had come over the next morning, initially to say goodbye. She and Lucien were officially moving to the Day Court that evening, more than ready to start their life together in the court that Lucien would one day rule.

And so, you came up with your plan. Elain went to fetch Feyre and Nesta quickly, knowing that they would need to be told to make the plan a success.

You were on your bed, Nova in your arms when they arrived, bursting through the door frantically.

“You’re leaving?!” Nesta asked in disbelief.

You just nodded your head, running a soothing hand over Nova’s back.

“What prompted this, sissy?” Feyre asked as she sat down next to you.

You knew that they already knew. Or at least heavily suspected.

“Azriel didn’t come home last night… And I can’t do it anymore. Elain said that Lucien already asked Helion if I could join them when they move back when I first got sick and things were… Up in the air a bit.”

Nesta’s change in demeanor was instantaneous, going from disbelieving to thunderous anger, already prepared to burn your mate alive.

Feyre hugged you tightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry, sissy. But if this is what you want, I’ll do anything I can to make it happen. Just promise me you’ll come visit at some point? And of course we’ll come visit you and Nova as much as we can manage.”

“Of course, FeyFey, I wouldn’t dream of staying away forever… Just, if Azriel could… Not be over while I am, that would be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be having a talk with Rhys about possibly banning him from Velaris for all but court duties. I cannot believe that he would do this to you again.”

“Well, we should get packing up the things Azriel won’t notice, Y/N. Just in case he does come home tonight.”

You scoffed quietly. “Unlikely…”

Your sisters helped you pack up most of your and Nova’s clothing, along with all of your crafting supplies. When it became apparent that your mate was out again, tarnishing the bond between you, the four of you quickly finished up, grabbing all of Nova’s favorite things, including the baby blanket that Azriel had painstakingly made for her while you were pregnant.

Nesta stayed behind, having agreed to wait at the town house for Azriel to return, whenever that may be. As disappointed and betrayed as you were by Azriel, you still made her promise to not physically harm him more than a punch to the jaw. Or a kick to the groin.

Feyre winnowed your things first, then Elain, and finally you and Nova, held tightly in your arms as you sped through the fabric of the world for the first time in over two years.

And hopefully the last time, as you had to quickly pass Nova off to Feyre, your lungs on fire from the pressure of winnowing, a long coughing fit overtaking you.

Once you had recovered yourself, you finally had a chance to take in your surroundings.

The hall you had landed in was grand and bright, made of shining marble that reflected the sun's rays beautifully.

In front of you was a male you didn't recognize, but the power rolling off of him in waves and the shine to his skin told you all you needed to know.

Helion, High Lord of Day.

"And you must be Y/N, Elain's sister. Welcome to the Day Court," Helion said warmly as he turned his eyes to you. "And this must be little Nova, Lucien has told me so much about this cutie!"

"Yes, it's lovely to meet you, High Lord. And thank you, truly, for what you've done for us. I... I don't know what I would have done, if not for your generosity."

"Oh, call me Helion, love. And it is no trouble at all, any family of Elain's is family of mine now. Plus... I heard some of what happened, and no person deserves to be treated as you were. I am happy to open my home to you and your little one for as long as you need."

Tears pricked at your eyes against your wishes. "Thank you, Helion."

"Yes Helion, thank you so much for helping our sister out. I am deeply saddened by the fact that I could not provide her with a home where she would be left alone by Azriel," Feyre said, clasping Helion's hands in hers. "And... I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be willing to ban Azriel from your court? I know that as soon as he knows they've left, he'll be out searching for them."

"It would be my pleasure!" Helion replied happily, a bright grin covering his face, radiating happiness like the sun. "I absolutely despise those who do not cherish their loved ones, and if I'm being honest... It would be fun to send him back to the Night Court by the scruff of his neck."

You couldn't help the quiet giggle that left your lips at the mental image you had produced. Nova looked up at you at the sound, her own lips curling up at the edges.

"Well, we should get the three of you settled into your rooms. Feyre, you're welcome to accompany us if you'd like," Helion offered.

Feyre shook her head. "I should be getting back, I still need to explain everything to Rhys. But if it's acceptable, I will visit in the morning and see how the three of you are settling in. Especially you, little Nova," she cooed at your child, who extended her hands to her aunt.

"That would be lovely, Feyre. Send a note ahead of your arrival and I'll make sure there is breakfast waiting for you, or tea if you come a bit later in the morning. Safe travels, High Lady," Helion said. "Oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy! I'll try to keep the news to myself."

Feyre narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "You'd better, High Lord." She turned her eyes to you and Elain, and gave both of you big hugs, and a soft kiss on Nova's forehead. "I'll see the three of you in the morning, alright?"

"We'll see you then, Fey. Winnow safely, okay?" Elain said.

"Oh, I will. Sleep well, and give lots of goodnight kisses to little Nova for me!"

And then she was gone, leaving you in the entrance hall with Helion and Elain.

"Lets get the three of you to your room, hmm? It's been a long night, I'm sure," Helion said softly, and began leading you to your new home for the foreseeable future.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

Nesta was sat in the darkness of the town house, your former home, stewing in her rage.

How- how had Azriel done this to you again?!

First, you nearly died after he rejected the bond from the overwhelming pain it caused you. And yes, your choice to jump was your own.

But he had promised to you that he would be a good mate. That he would be worthy of you.

Then, you nearly died again while he was nowhere to be found, your child together also gravely ill until Madja had managed to create an effective medicine. And you were permanently harmed by it, barely able to navigate a set of stairs on your own.

And all because he had been out, fucking some other female while he left his mate and child at home during a wave of illness attacking that very population.

To think, you could have been given the help you needed hours earlier, and could possibly have avoided the disability following you now.

And after all that, you had still forgiven him.

You, her sweetest and most caring sister, the one who had never turned her back on any of you. On her.

Nesta knew that she had been an awful person to you, growing up in that rundown shack. And she had ignored you after turning fae, too concerned with her own changed body to bother to apologize to you.

In the time since your fall, Nesta had done her best to do right by you, to be the elder sister that you needed. While she wasn’t the best at comforting others, she was a good listener. She had payed careful attention to you ever since, doing her best to catch any concerning behaviors.

And when you were pregnant with Nova, Nesta had been nearly as protective of you as Azriel, taking the time to walk you to your favorite shops and make sure that you were eating properly.

That should have been her sign that something was wrong.

She should have done something, confronted your bastard of a mate. But there was no changing the past, only the future.

And Nesta would do her damned best at keeping you safe from harm, even a court’s distance away.

And that would start with ripping the Shadowsinger to shreds.

Verbally. You had made her promise to not actually hurt Azriel, beyond a punch to the jaw.

Nesta thought that a punch to the throat would be much more effective. And maybe a knee to the groin.

Just a little something to give him a taste of the pain that you existed in because of his mistakes- if you could even call them that at this point.

No, they seemed to be thought out decisions to betray your trust, to tarnish the bond that he had rejected and forced back to life.

Silver flames threatened to spill from her fingers, ready to burn the male alive, if only she would loose them on him.

Feyre had appeared in the town house about ten minutes after taking you, Elain, and Nova to the Day Court, a soft smile on her face.

“How did it go?”

“Oh, Helion already seems obsessed with Nova, and he was very welcoming to her and Y/N. I think it will be a good change for them. And he agreed to ban Azriel from his court, which solves the possible problem of him tracking them down and trying to force Y/N to come back. I know… I know that she’s serious about this, but she still loves him, even now. I was worried that she might take him back, if he begged enough.”

Nesta scoffed. “Unlikely. The fact that she left without even a note makes me think that she’s done with him, no matter what honeyed words he could try to pour in her ears. The main reasons she stayed after getting sick was to let Nova know her father.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Feyre sighed. “I need to go talk to Rhys, let him know what happened. And honestly, I want to see if he’ll allow me to ban Azriel from Velaris except for his court duties.”

Nesta shook her head, not believing that Rhys would cave to her request. “Good luck with that, Fey.”

“Thanks, Nes. Let me know when the asshole shows up, but I’ll come over as soon as I’m done talking to Rhys.”

“I will.”

Feyre left the house quietly, and Nesta was alone in the darkness once more, rage building a burning fire in her body as she contemplated just what she was going to yell at him.

Five hours later, when the sun had just began to creep over the horizon, the front door opened.

Azriel came into the sitting room, but upon seeing Nesta sitting in the darkness, he stopped in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I think the better question is where were you?” Nesta hissed, satisfied when a flash of fear crossed the Shadowsinger’s face.

Feyre, he’s here.

I’ll be over in a few minutes.

“I was out in Illyria, making sure there were no wing clippings happening.”

“Liar.”

“Oh? And how would you know, Nesta? Are you might High Lord or Lady? Do you assign me my duties?”

“No. But Feyre had already informed me that you had no work tonight, that you were supposed to spend the week leading up to Nova’s first birthday entirely at home. So. Where were you?”

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him, and he turned his attention to looking for something.

He didn’t find it.

“Where…?” He started, panic flooding his scent. “Where are my mate and child?!” He roared, stomping over to Nesta, who had stood from her place on the couch.

“Somewhere you will never see them again.”

And then Nesta struck, first a knee to his groin, followed up by a satisfying fist to his throat. She relished in the pained noises coming from him, summoning her flames once he had recovered.

“You are lucky that Y/N made me promise not to hurt you more,” Nesta seethed as she backed him into a corner. “You should be ashamed of yourself! Y/N was too kind to take you back, when all you do is hurt her! You never deserved her, you never deserved a mate at ALL! And Nova is lucky to not be raised by such a disgusting person, by someone who only lies and cheats and hurts others.”

Azriel was silent, his head hung low, even as Nesta could scent his rage.

“Azriel.” Rhys’s voice, filled with the authority of a High Lord. “You need to leave. You are no longer welcome in Velaris, except when explicitly allowed.”

Azriel’s head whipped to the front door, where Rhys and Feyre were standing, matching angered expressions on their faces.

“But I-”

“No. You have been given chance after chance to change how you act, how you treat members of this family. And I will not stand for you continuing to live here, even with Y/N and Nova gone,” Feyre snarled. “You can live in the Court of Nightmares or Illyria. But Velaris is no longer your home.”

Azriel’s eyes were wide as he looked between Feyre and Rhys, in disbelief at the situation. “Rhys, you can’t be serious-”

“Deadly. And this is an order from your High Lord and Lady: do not attempt to search for them. Y/N does not want you in her or Nova’s life, and you will respect that. Do you understand?” Rhys asked, but there was only one answer that Azriel could give.

“Yes.” His voice was angry as he gave in to his High Lord’s demand. “Will you at least tell me where they are?” He growled as he glared at the three of them.

“No. You do not get to have any information about them, unless Y/N permits it. You do not deserve to know where they are, what health they are in, anything. Azriel, you disgust me. Y/N has given you so many chances to redeem yourself, but you have disappointed her every time.” Feyre’s voice was deadly calm, but her hatred was bubbling beneath the surface. “My twin has been a saint to you, and you have done nothing but hurt her. The one good thing you have done is give her Nova. And if you ever hurt her again, I will kill you myself.”

Azriel gaped at her, and looked at Rhys.

“You should go. Pack what you want, but by the end of today, you are no longer welcome in Velaris,” Rhys said coldly.

The three of them stayed in the living room as Azriel went upstairs, their ears perking up at the gasp he let out when he saw your shared bedroom, emptied of your effects.

You were gone.

You were really gone.

All of your fabrics and threads, the thimble set that Nesta had gifted you, custom designed just for your birthday last year, the baby blanket that he had made for Nova, all of your clothes- they were all gone.

You had left him!

Surely, you weren’t serious. This was just a ploy to get his attention, to make him take the bond seriously again. His family downstairs must be in on it, just trying to go along with your wishes.

So he packed his bags, taking everything that was vital to him. He went into Nova’s room, where she rarely stayed, but her things were kept, and the pain hit him.

Seeing her room with none of her clothes or toys strewn about, none of the life in it, hurt. It hurt more than seeing that you had left.

He would find you. And he would bring you home.

You and Nova belong with him.

And he would show you that.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222 @mellowmusings @romantasyreader28

[hueseok]

GOOD GRACES ( index. )

kim seokjin doesn’t believe in luck. he’s someone who knows that in order to have good things coming your way, you have to work damn hard for it. however, that might not be the case when it comes to bad luck, because after a video of him goes viral wherein it looks like he’s screaming at someone’s grandma, he begins thinking maybe luck does exist—and it just so happens that he’s now being subjected to a lot of unluckiness.

he’s being cancelled. his career is getting destroyed. his manager is forcing him to take a hiatus. and on top of that, as if things could not get worse, the only hope he has on redeeming everything he worked hard on depends on you, the director’s daughter of the theater show that could propel him back to where he used to be.

that should have been a piece of cake. if only you weren’t his ex who he dumped via phone call and got threatened by to never show his face to ever again...

pairing: seokjin x reader

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, light angst, humor, exes to enemies to friends to lovers au | ft. theater actor!seokjin + himbo energy!seokjin lmao, podcaster!reader + nepo baby!reader

gen. warning/s: lots of swearing | mature themes | might contain implicit sexual content in future chapters!

THE PARTS: ( 01 / 10. )

✧ EPISODE 01. there are worse things i could do !

✧ EPISODE 02

✧ EPISODE 03

✧ EPISODE 04

✧ EPISODE 05

✧ EPISODE 06

✧ EPISODE 07

✧ EPISODE 08

✧ EPISODE 09

✧ EPISODE 10

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ i really like you — carly rae jepsen ♫ good graces — sabrina carpenter ♫ don’t go breaking my heart — elton john, kiki dee

TAGLIST STATUS: open! send an ask or reply to this post ♡

note. this drabble series is product of this idea. i love only murders in the building and i think that was mostly the inspiration in coming up with this fic! updates will be sporadic (if you’re familiar with me, you might have already expected this lmao), so no schedules whatsoever hehe,, i will however try to update as often and as quick as i can ♡

[razrbladekiss]

MAPLE HAZEL | Joel Miller — Part Three

SUMMARY: joel’s misery is palpable. you’re oblivious to it. until you’re not.

PAIRING: no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.9k, you are welcum.

WARNINGS: angst. reader is an eagles fan (do NOT come for me, they are my boys. go birds 🦅). F L U F F. mentions of reader’s dad. tommy and joel are jerks, but joel redeems himself. tommy can suck a fat one. i kidddd <3 this is probably the angst-iest this story’ll get because im addicted to the fluff so. enjoy. 🤞🏼 not proof read or edited, i cannot be fucked for that.

TAGS: if you would like to be added for future installments, then let me know besties!! if i’ve forgotten anyone that’s asked to get added, then please slap me. @millersleee @goodvibesonly421 @j0elmlllers @scorpio-echo

SERIES MASTERLIST

Joel’s hands seize the steering wheel of his truck—the same one that’s presently stationed on your driveway—knuckles turning sheet white for the hold that he has is completely unforgiving. And sore.

He’s irascible. Livid. His anger is sheathed by shame and hatred for himself as the way that he conducted himself this morning was unseemly. Even for Joel, it was appalling. And though you didn’t appear to have any reservations, he knew that he bothered you. Your face didn’t allude to irritation, nor did your tone or mannerisms, but Joel was more than conscious of your internal hurt.

He just knows you that well.

But now he’s sitting—legs numb and cheeks charring red—striving to conjure up an apology that’ll help to shirk any ill-feeling that you may have toward him. Because he was a fucking jerk this morning.

And it was all because of an Eagles sweater, believe it or not.

9.42 AM

Birch Grove is bustling. It's considerably brighter, this morning. The doom and gloom that enveloped your small town yesterday has now dissipated, leaving nothing but small puddles of rainwater and grit in its wake, and it’s beautiful. A sight to behold when you’re leaving your house today.

You avoid the wetness on the road—hoping not to muddy your shoes—and bounce onto the sidewalk, admiring the oil slick that blankets damp gravel on your way over to Joel’s. You swear that there’s a divot in the concrete that holds semblance to a heart, but you’re not sure if that’s just a delusion from lack of sleep or some sort of sign from the universe telling you that perhaps it’s time to find a significant other.

Nonetheless, you take in the scene. How yesterday—in the midst of a storm—not a single body littered the crosswalk, therefore leaving Joel’s little coffee shop completely empty. But today—now that the air has cleared and rain almost dried up—it’s like nothing had even happened, and the entire town is out in force. Like they always should be.

Joel watches in awe as you make tracks across the street toward the cafe—wondering how he ever deserved such a buoyant presence like you in his life despite the fact that he’s a perpetually miserable middle-aged man—and busies himself so you don’t think he’s been ogling you this entire time.

But then the bell rings, Joel’s eyes flick up—against his own will—and you bound over the threshold with the biggest smile. He swallows extremely thickly.

“Good morning.” You say, as happy as ever—clearly on a high from your not-date—and pad through the room toward him. “Can I please have a—“

“You’re late.” 

One of your perfectly tweezed brows raises. 

“For work.” He elaborates. Joel clears his throat. “You’re late for work.”

“I got the day off.” You remind him. He vaguely remembers you saying something about this elusive break on Monday, but was honestly too distracted by his brother attempting to use the coffee machine. 

Joel nods, taking your favorite mug off of the shelf. You smile at the sentiment. 

“Ah, you’re going shopping. Right?”

You nod. Your stomach gurgles when your eyes satisfy the gaze of a perfectly plump cinnamon roll. Not too thick, not too over-done, and the right bun to icing ratio. It’s sitting—alone—in one of the little cake cases.

“I am.” You reply, taking the glass dome off of the top. Like last time, you swipe the sweet treat right from underneath Joel’s nose. Only, today, you slide two dollars across so he can’t complain. 

But he wouldn’t anyway. Not today. Because he admires the fact that you’re ungovernable, while simultaneously respecting him. To an extent, anyway. 

“I can get you some fall decor.”

“No—“

“He needs to spruce this place up.”

His eyes roll when he’s pouring the frothed milk atop your latte, hardly going unnoticed by his larger-than-life, sometimes a bit too overbearing brother. 

Tommy acknowledges you by saying your name, and you grin back at him. It’s nice to see one of the Miller’s with anything but a stoic expression slapped against those rough, rugged features. Though there’s something about Joel’s that seems rather superficial. 

Despite being perennial at times, you feel as though you’ve cracked through his tough exterior and. You’re certainly able to decipher between his real and mock revulsion. Last night was the first time that Joel’s guard had truly been down, and it was wonderful. 

“Get him some pumpkins. A wreath—“

“I don’t need no pumpkins. And what the hell is a wreath?”

The youngest brother pulls a stool out next to you, and bumps your shoulder as he sits. He looks at you as if to say get a load of this guy, and you laugh. Joel passes you your latte, and you think that you see a hint of a smile tugging at those plush lips. But you won’t swear to it. 

“A wreath is what Mrs. McKlaren has on her front door for each season.”

“Yeah.” Tommy chimes in. He pulls one of the Birch Grove Gazettes from the pile beside the cake case, and opens it up. “But you knew that. You’re just playin’ dumb in front of—“

You elbow him. “Quit teasin’.” Further defending your friend, you say; “it’s not his fault if he’s not too polished up on the names of things. He’s not pussy-whipped like you are, Tom.”

Joel chuckles at that comment, thanking you with a nod. A man of few words, though you get him. Down to a fine art. 

“True.” He flicks through a few pages, before he’s turning to you with a grimace when you take off your jacket to reveal one of your dad’s old Eagles sweaters. “Oh, God no.”

You frown, putting it to sit on the seat next to you. 

It’s common knowledge around these parts that there are two teams, and two teams only that it’s acceptable to support. Unless you’re flaunting the badge of the Texans or Dallas Cowboys, then you’re basically committing a federal crime.  And the men of Birch Grove take this very, very seriously. 

“Joel. I know you’re friends with this broad—“

“Watch your mouth.” He grumbles, appearing from the kitchen. He has his head down, hands full of cutlery. 

“Sorry.” Tommy says oh so quietly. “But—but look. She’s wearing the mark of the devil.”

Your eyes are rolling so hard you fear that they’ll roll straight from their sockets and into your coffee. You just know that beneath the green flannel, Joel is donning an Aikman jersey.

“That’s so dramatic.” Arms are being folded over as you speak, and he still hasn’t looked in your direction. “It’s just a football team—“

“Woah.” The two Millers harmonize. Joel eyes you directly and turns his nose up as soon as he heeds the shade of green that should be classed as blasphemy, not midnight.  

He didn’t know that you liked them. Tess liked them, too. But you know that. You’re not fucking stupid. 

And perhaps she might’ve aided the disgust that percolates through Joel whenever he hears someone utter the name Brian Dawkins, but he can’t help associating them with her. That same way he thinks of her whenever Fall rolls around, or whenever you step into his little cafe. 

He has such strong feelings for you, but needs to put them aside. He needs to bury them deep for fear of the past repeating itself because he isn’t sure if he can go through that again. His guard goes up, and eyes go down. He busies himself with cleaning. 

“Sacrilege.” Tommy spits. “It’s not just a football team, woman. It’s Irreverent. To come in here and wear that is absolutely ridiculous.”

Your jaw rolls and you look down at the faded logo. 

“I respect that you root for the birds, I do. It must be hard to support such a shit team—“

“Language.” Joel scolds, a little heated. “But, I agree. Can’t go wearin’ that ‘round these parts. It’s almost as bad as you comin’ in here wearing a Steelers jersey.”

Tommy grimaces. It’s not quite as bad, but it certainly sucks. 

But, to you, what sucks is the fact that these men—grown fucking men—are chewing you out over a sweater. It’s child’s play. 

“They’re not a shitty team. They’re great.” You defend your guys, watching Joel try to control the bitterness threatening to bust right out of his lips. “I’ve always loved them. My dad is from Philly—“

“Explains why you have such crappy taste.”

You blink at Tommy. 

“Anyway.” You clear your throat. “I’ll always root for the birds, because they’re my favorites. I also, believe it or not, enjoy the Cowboys when they play at home, or against the Giants. It’s patriotic. But they are a pretty shitty team—“

“No, they ain’t.”

“They are.” You uphold, making direct eye contact with the youngest sibling. “Remind me, when was the last time they went to the Superbowl?”

Tommy’s jaw rolls, and Joel can feel himself slipping. 

“Ninety-five.” Begrudgingly, he says. “But that don’t mean shit—“

“Kinda does.” 

“No it don’t.” He growls. “When was the last time those damn birds won the big game, huh?”

Without missing a beat, you say; “twenty-eighteen. They beat the Patriots by eight points, Brady sucked and Foles was the MVP. I tailgated at the stadium with my dad and uncle—“

“In Minnesota?”

“Yessir.” You tell Tommy before taking the last sip of your—now lukewarm—coffee. “I’ll also be heading to Philly to see the Eagles v Steelers game.”

Joel scoffs. 

“Got somethin’ to say, old timer?”

He grinds his lips together before saying; “just baffles me s’all. Don’t get how someone—Dallas born ‘n raised—can root for a team from Philadelphia.”

“Just the way it goes. But I did say that I enjoy them from time to time.”

“Shouldn’t be that way.” Tommy interjects. “Texans are meant to support Texan-made teams all the time. Not fuckin’—“

“Tommy.” Joel gestures to the customers, scolding him again for his crudeness. 

You pull cash from your purse while the two of them bicker, putting atop the counter before Joel can even refuse. You shrug on your jacket, too, promptly doing up the buttons so the tension can dissipate a little. But it doesn’t. 

“I’m not arguing with you two morons over football any longer.” A little meaner than intended, you tell the two of them. You turn to Joel, brows furrowing. “And I know why you despise the Eagles; I’m not an idiot. I saw her walking ‘round the place with her scarves in the winter, ‘n the occasional jersey on football Sundays.”

Tommy looks between the two of you, sensing some friction. 

“Don’t project Tess’s shit onto me, Joel.” Blunt, you say. “I’m sorry that I was the reason for her leaving, but it ain’t my fault we have the same interests. You can’t pussyfoot around forever, and I don’t appreciate gettin’ admonished for a fucking football sweatshirt.”

“Don’t.” He warns, wrenching a dish rag between calloused fingertips. He knew that last night’s conversation was deep-rooted in something more than just you being curious. “I’m not pussyfootin’ ‘round. I just don’t wanna talk about her.”

“I know.” You say—realizing that you were a little too hot off the mark—but you don’t feel sorry. “But there’ll always be people who like the same things that she did, or say the same things, or remind you of her.”

He looks at you. He knows what you mean. He knows that you know that—in some kind of way—you make Joel think of her. You’re so strong, like Tess. So outspoken, exactly like her. But you’re caring and kind, and don’t get jealous over the slightest little things, and you let him speak. 

You let him tell you about his troubles, not that he shares too much. And you’re not pushy. But now, it feels like you’re being exactly that. 

“I’m sorry that my mere presence as a Goddamn Eagles fan pisses you off, Joel, but I’m not going to be able to change that. You’ll just have to try and detach those memories—“

The dishrag is being hurled onto the bar along with his fists. “I’m not gonna detach those memories! I ain’t gonna forget her just ‘cus you think you know me and my relationship with that woman so well! You don’t know shit. All you do is come in here ‘n drink coffee, rant about crap that nobody cares about, make me listen to your stupid fuckin’ problems—and I’m sick of it!”

You blink back tears as you stare at him, for the volume is intimidating and completely unwavering. You’ve never been yelled at before—in front of customers, by Joel—and you want to be sick. Everyone is staring. Some people are even leaving. 

Has he always felt this way? You wonder. Has Joel always thought that your ramblings are pointless, and that your issues are facetious? You’re sure that he’s just spewing nonsense at this point, but it still stings. 

“Joel—“

“Get out.” He looks down, hands gripping tightly the wooden countertop. He refuses eye contact. 

Tommy gives you a weak smile, immediately regretting setting foot into Joel’s this morning. Quite like you, really. 

“I’m really sorry for bringing her up, Joel, I know how—“

“Go.” His eyes lift to satisfy your gaze, hurt written over his features. “Please…Just leave.”

“Okay.” You nod, lifting your purse from the stool. It’s a quick bye to Tommy that has those damn tears spilling as you walk to your car, not even looking back to wave or smile at your friend like you usually do. 

You fear that this’ll change the trajectory of your relationship with Joel. And his brother knows that. 

He knows that if he doesn’t say something—at this point, anything—then Joel will just let this sit and fester, and become something that it has absolutely no business being. 

His brother knows that you’re the only constant in his life—aside from family—and if he lets you go, then he’ll be considerably more bleak. He’ll have his patrons to keep him company, but he won’t have you. The girl that has—unbeknownst to her—given Joel something to look forward to every day. 

The girl that Joel can’t help thinking of, or talking about, whenever he gets the chance. And despite not always showing his admiration, he’s besotted with you. Infatuated, perhaps. His fondness so clear that everyone can see it. Everyone, aside from you. 

Especially after that.  

“You’re a fucking jerk.” Tommy chastises. “She shouldn’t have mentioned Tess, but that was horrible—“

“I don’t care.” Through gritted teeth, he tells him. “She took it too far—“

“No, we did.” He admits. “She probably wouldn’t have brought the bitch up if we didn’t tease her for wearing her dad’s fuckin’ sweater.”

Joel swallows the lump in his throat, refusing to admit that Tommy could be right about this. 

“You need’a get a hold of your emotions, brother. Can’t be sendin’ her away like that when we both know you’ve got feelings for her—“

Joel grumbles as he rounds the counter, polishing a few tables in hopes that his sibling will go and leave him to it. But he doesn’t. 

“Can’t let Tess be the reason you two ain’t talkin’. ‘Specially ‘cus she ain’t even in the state anymore.”

Fuck. Off. 

Tommy watches him feign emotion, knowing deep down that his brother wants to beat himself to a pulp because you didn’t deserve any of that. 

“She’s right, y’know?”

“What?” 

Tommy says your name. “She’s right. If you don’t cut ties with the things that remind you of Tess, then you’ll never be happy. Always be comparin’ shit to her, and makin’ yourself miserable. Or miserable-r.”

“That ain’t even a word, dipshit.”

“True, though.” He says. “Joel, you’re so in love with this girl, you can’t let her go over a Goddamn football team—“

“Not in love.”

“Bullshit.” The youngest spits. “You get literal heart eyes whenever you look at her, and don’t even try ‘n deny it ‘cus Maria notices too.”

Joel blinks at him, wondering how he’d been so openly vulnerable. He‘a confused at how he’d unintentionally let his guard down enough to display his feelings. The ones that he wasn’t even certain about. 

“It mightn’t be love, Joel, but you’re mad about this girl.” He says a bit softer. Quieter. “And you can try to put these feelings aside, but what’re you gonna do if she walks in here with another man? Or she goes on more dates and finds the one? You just gonna live with it? Just gonna be jealous and miserable for the rest of your life?”

Joel walks to the café window and just stares for a few moments, secretly hoping to see you stomp across the street to give him a piece of your mind. But you don’t. 

“Think you’ve done enough wallowin’ in the past, don’t you?”

He supposes that he’s right. Joel knows that there’s some truth to what is being said to him, and so he turns the Open sign to Closed, and gestures for Tommy to get the remaining customers to leave. 

“What’re you gonna do?” 

“Make things right.” Joel grabs his jacket from the coat stand beside the door, and throws the shop keys to his brother. “Close up for me, will ‘ya?”

Tommy shakes his head. He gets off of his stool and goes behind the counter, grabbing one of the aprons from the hook beside the kitchen door. 

“Turn the sign back ‘round. You might’ve just lost your most loyal customer, you can’t afford to fuckin’ lose no more.”

Joel just nods. He has no fight left inside of him. He does as told, and storms across the sidewalk to his truck. 

He’s been stationary for the last fuck knows how long, just mentally preparing himself for whatever bullshit will spill from his lips the second he sees you. If you even want to open your door to him. He wouldn’t blame you, if you didn’t. He gave you shit, and kicked you out when you spoke your mind. And the truth. Because, that’s what it was, wasn’t it? As harsh as it might’ve been, it was the truth and it was what he needed to hear. 

It’s been two hours since getting a verbal beat-down and, strangely, he really misses the sound of your voice. The oddly dulcet tone. The sweet, honeyed rhythm that slips from between two of the plushest, softest looking lips he’s ever bared witness to in his entire life. And even though some of the words that fell from them were harsh, he no longer cares. 

If he doesn’t apologize, then he might not get to hear you speak again. And he’ll take several scoldings if it means that he can listen to your beautiful tone. 

Fuck. 

“C’mon, dickhead.” He tells his reflection in the mirror. He eyes himself, wondering whether the hat should stay on or off. Because if he takes it off, then his hair might look bad, but if he keeps it on then you mightn’t be able to take him seriously. 

He’s overthinking it. 

It stays on when he’s lugging his body—warm and palpitating—from the cabin, and onto the gravel of your driveway. He minds the flower beds when his boots hit ground, knowing that he’ll have hell to pay if he crushes your blooms or kicks up any mud.

His breath is hot and heavy. It’s like he’s just ran the Boston fucking marathon, not sit in his truck for the better part of twenty minutes being too much of a pussy to knock at your front door. 

But now he’s strolling to your porch, and can’t put it off any longer. He doesn’t even know if you’re home, but he guesses that you are. The wreath that you got today—golden leaves adorned with acorns and berries—is hanging proudly against the wood that you’ve painted sage. 

He laughs to himself when his hand comes up to knock, number eight. It’s almost comical how the number of your house coalesces with the number of his favorite ex-Cowboys player. But he’s not going to bring that up. Maybe another time. 

Joel takes a few deep breaths, heart only stuttering when he hears your footsteps approaching over the suspended wood flooring. The one that he actually had to help you sand down just eight months ago because you always felt that they looked too dark. Depressing. 

He smiles weakly. It doesn’t last long. When you swing the door open and your face falls, then so does Joel’s. 

“Hi.” He whispers, internally kicking himself for being such a wimp. He clears his throat. “Nice wreath.”

You fight a grin. Your disappointment outweighs any semblance of softness at this very juncture. 

After a few hours of mulling it over—and rage shopping—you’ve come to the conclusion that you were at fault. But Joel certainly didn’t make it any better when he kicked you off the premises after his hurtful monologue. 

“Thanks.” Your cardigan is pulled tightly around your body. Cream always looks so good on you. “Is—uh—is there something that I can help you with?”

Joel looks down for a split second. It feels like forever before he’s looking directly at you again. The thumping inside of his chest hasn’t once subsided since appearing at your street, he’s never felt like this before. At least, he can’t ever remember feeling like this. 

And it’s because of this—feeling—that he’s struggling to extrapolate his inward thoughts. You heed it. You know him like the back of your hand, apparently. His face is sullen—almost remorseful—and eyes hazy. 

Has he been crying? No. He’s probably just really annoyed. He looks like that sometimes when Tommy’s pissed him off, and he needs to vent. 

You shift aside, gesturing for Joel to come in. He hesitates for a moment, before he’s stepping over the threshold and into your beautiful home. The home that presently smells like a mixture of Sandalwood and Lavender, but Neroli and Bergamot in the summer months. 

What the fuck is Bergamot? Why do I know what that smells like?

He takes it in. The subtle scent, the fall decorations that make your cozy home look even more appeasing. It’s cute. It’s put together, clean, and inviting. It’s so you. 

You shut the door behind him when he takes a few paces into the entryway, just watching him. His broad shoulders swathed in soft, green flannel are tipped slightly forward. He’s not holding himself the way that he usually does. 

“Is everything okay, Joel?” You break the silence, shuffling past him through the hallway and to the kitchen. You hear him follow behind. Those heavyset footsteps make your heart ache, for some reason. 

Even by the way he walks—slow, long strides—he seems down. Remorseful, perhaps. And though he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, it’s always easy to tell how he feels. 

“Tea?” You offer without turning around, taking the kettle that’s just come to a boil on the stove. “I have chamomile, green, or English.”

“No coffee?” Your head shakes, pulling two mugs from the small shelf above the counter. Joel sits at your kitchen island. “How come?”

Two English teabags are being lifted from the carton—he didn’t specify, you just guess—and plopped into ceramic. 

“I don’t make my own coffee. Don’t taste the same when I do.”

His heart aches. After skipping a beat, of course. He takes a seat at your kitchen island, watching you potter around, clearly not prepared for a guest. 

“Tea is a little more warming, anyway.” You gesture for the sugar and he shakes his head. “Don’t enjoy coffee when I’m on my own. Only when I’m with someone.”

“That why you always come to see me in the mornin’?”

Faintly, you smile. Your head bobs a little bit, hanging low. 

He says your name. You look at him. “Y’know, if you ever want a coffee outta hours, I’m usually at home. You can come ‘round, if you wanna.”

That strange gnawing sensation returns beside a debilitating thumping. He feels the same, but you don’t know that. 

“Same here.” A weak smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you bring Joel his tea. The white ceramic is festooned with acorns and leaves, and he swears that you’ve just given him one of your best mugs. 

You sip quietly your warm beverage, standing opposite to where he sits in an uncomfortable silence. A lull that neither of you realize lasts an entire minute before you’re clearing your throat, and Joel is still trying to find his words. 

“Listen.” He sets down the tea—the best he’s ever had—and shifts a little bit. Joel tries to avoid eye contact with you, but understands that this is one of the times that he needs to show you just how important this is. It’s not just a casual conversation at the coffee house, anymore. 

You’re facing him fully, now. Eyes wide, lips parted a little bit. 

“I’m really sorry about earlier.” His tone is honest, wreathed with a hint of genuine sadness. “I had no business being such a jerkoff to you, kid. I said some hurtful shit, and I let my mouth get away from me.”

“You were a total dick, Joel.” 

He nods. “I know.”

“And I know that I never shoulda brought her up, but I didn’t think you’d yell at me. In front of everyone.”

He starts to cringe as he remembers what he said. How he said those horrible things. You’re such a sweet girl, he can’t believe he flipped out on you that way. 

“Do you really think that what comes outta my mouth is crap?”

“No, of course not—“

“Is everything I say fucking pointless?”

“Hon—no—no, of course not.” Joel fumbles his words a bit, just glad that he didn’t refer to you as any other embarrassing fucking pet name. He's not even sure that you caught it, what with being blinded by such a haze of anger. 

You do, though. You just don’t acknowledge it. 

Your thumb loops through the glossy handle, and you look into your mug. 

“I choose to start each morning the same way; at your café. I don’t do it because I want to come in and ruin your day by ranting, or spillin’ my guts about shitty dates and bad friends.” You refuse eye contact, still watching the tea slosh around as you move the cup ever so slightly. “I do it because I like you, Joel. You’re a great guy, and make my days a little bit easier. I’d even go so far as to consider you one of my friends. But, if you don’t feel that way—“

“Hey.” He reaches out for your hand. He’s surprised that you don’t pull away when his tan flesh meets yours so suddenly. Joel asks you to look at him, and you oblige. 

It’s so sad. Your eyes—so full of hurt—now locked on his. Soft, warm fingers wound between his thick digits. He frowns. 

“Listen to me.” Stern, though soft, he tells you. “Of course I feel that way. I tell you shit that I ain’t even told my own brother, ‘course I see you as a friend. Probably the only person I’d even wanna spend time with, if I’m honest.”

“You’re just sayin’ that, ‘cus you hurt my feelings—“

“No, I ain’t.” Joel shakes his head, trying to ignore the fact that he hurt your feelings. “I’m serious.”

“As a heart attack?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, kiddo, as a heart attack.”

Eyes roll at the sentiment, wondering whether there’ll ever be a time where Joel doesn’t refer to you as kid or kiddo. He tells you that it’s because he’s a lot older than you, but you both know there’s not even a ten year gap between the pair of you. He’s just dramatic and wishing his life away. 

“I’m—uh—I’m no good at this shit.” He looks down, a little curl poking through the back strap of his cap catches your eye. “Feelings, ‘n all.”

Instinctively, your thumb traces over the skin of his hand. You nod. You know. 

He's not the most sentimental person—nor does he cogitate  with his heart—but Joel is one of the most thoughtful men you’ve ever met, and these last few days have you feeling a different way about him. You can’t say that it’s a crush—crushes are for kids, is what your mother often tells you—but it’s certainly something. 

You’re just worried about the fact that he can’t let go of Tess. 

“Don’t gotta explain feelings, sweetie.” You tell him with a smile, reaching for your mug. The tea is cool, now. A little bit easier to drink than when it was piping hot and burning the roof of your mouth. “Just gotta feel ‘em, that’s all. Explain once you understand.”

You take a sip of the drink you made a short while ago, hands detaching. Joel almost feels weak without your touch, now. But he supposes that had it lasted any longer, he’d crumble. 

“Always know what to say, dontcha?”

“I do.” Conceited—though completely satirical—you say. He smiles, and so do you. “But in all seriousness, Joel, I know that you appreciate me. And I know that today was a complete one-off, but I just gotta know one thing.”

“Go for it.”

You suck in a breath, hating where you’re about to lead the conversation. “Did last night make you think differently of me? Y’know, when I asked those questions and pried a little?”

Joel’s heart thumps. Again. He doesn’t know how to say yeah, last night changed everything. But not ‘cus of what you asked me. 

He supposes that he can’t lie to you. He’s as transparent as a pane of fucking glass, at this point. 

“No. Definitely not.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Really. You had the right to know. Nothin’ has changed.”

Liar. 

He’s looking at you with those big fucking heart eyes that his brother teased him about earlier, and he knows it. He knows that he’s smitten. Truly, Joel is more than conscious of the fact that he’s falling—or more appropriately, fallen—for you, but he’s not at liberty to say. 

“You can tell me, y’know?”

He nods. “I know. There’s nothin’ to tell.”

“Okay.” Your tone is skeptical. He’s lying. 

He’s also been sitting here for far too long and is in desperate need of a long, cold shower to wash away the day and shirk any feelings before they come to bite him on his perfectly round ass. So he gets up—pushing the seat back beneath the island—and smiles at you. 

“Left Tommy behind the counter?”

Joel nods. “Yeah. He’s probably cussin’ me out right ‘bout now.”

Your laugh is genuine. Hearty. “Best get back then, hon.”

Joel’s mouth goes dry when his lips part to speak. Nothing materializes. Not even when he’s walking to the front door—you’re hot on his heels—can he figure out what to say. 

He’s opening it before he’s even certain of what he’s doing. 

“Miller.” You say and he turns around. He can’t help looking directly at your lips. “I’ll see ‘ya tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He coughs. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

He’s about to walk away—and you’re about to shut the door—before he’s leaning over the threshold and letting all rationality dissipate. Joel’s left hand meets the doorframe—mere inches from your own—and his breathing grows sporadic. 

Well, now or never, I ‘spose. 

Your fingers tingle, legs weaken. It’s only a split second, but it feels like an eternity that Joel is just standing there; staring at you. He’s waiting to make a move, you’re almost certain of it. 

“You gonna do somethin’?” You taunt, tilting your head a little. It almost snaps him out of his anxiety-induced haze. It eggs him on, if anything. 

“Fuck—shit—yeah.” Joel steps forward so that he’s no longer leaning, and the tips of his boots meet your toes. He’s careful not to stand on them. It’s sweet. 

He’s sweet. 

“C’mere.” He’s telling you when one of his calloused hands meets the nape of your neck, and both of yours are instinctively pawing at his chest. The soft, white  jersey beneath that customary flannel is like satin against your fingertips. He draws you in closer. “I lied.”

“‘Bout what?” You whisper, letting Joel’s hand shift to your cheek. It’s hard not to melt into his touch. 

His thumb brushes over your skin. You wilt beneath it. 

“Last night.” Your eyes are locked. “Everythin’ has changed.”

You nod. You feel the same way.

“And I dunno how to go ‘bout this, ‘cus I can’t do this whole lovey-dovey crap, but I do know that I wanna kiss you.”

He pulls you forward so that your faces are almost touching, and your hands have no choice but to rest atop the peaks of his glorious shoulders. This is something you only could’ve dreamed of. You and Joel in this position—on your doorstep—like something out of a fucking romcom, or Gilmore Girls. 

C’mon, man. Kiss her. 

The man’s heart juts in his throat. Two noses graze one another—when Joel angles his face so that he’s not pushing too firmly against yours—and you can’t help smiling wide at the prospect of Joel Miller, grumpiest man in Birch Grove, taking a liking to you. 

It’s almost as if your entire time with Joel flashes before your eyes—all of the early mornings and late nights spent at his coffee house, the stories shared and secrets told—and everything comes to a head in this particular moment. 

Your smile doesn’t falter. Not even when his lips meet yours, and he pushes the most dulcet kiss against your mouth. It’s so gentle. Nothing more than a delicate peck, but so passionate in the sense that; the two of you need this. The tenderness of the other’s touch—the sweet, cloying taste of sugar on your tongue meshed with malt from the tea—is welcomed almost immediately, accommodated by an unexpected desire and thirst for intimacy. 

And though it is but a peck, the two of you know that this is the start of something. Something completely unexplainable and somewhat unexpected, but something nonetheless. 

You’re the first to pull away. He’s too enamored with you. 

“Joel.” You breathe against his lips. Cheeks are flushed red, eyes hooded and completely blown with lust. “Thanks for comin’ here, and apologizing.”

“Thanks for acceptin’ my apology.” He tells you. Joel takes a step back—not before running his thumb over your skin one last time—for fear of initiating something else. “Wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t wanna.”

“Don’t go sayin’ that. ‘Course I’ll always accept your apologies.”

Joel’s heart rate must be through the roof at this point. 

“Even if I run outta maple hazel syrup?”

A gasp falls from your lips and you feign anguish. You soon smile. He looks at his wristwatch, and sighs. 

“I better get goin’. Left Tommy alone a while, now. Not sure if I’ll have a cafe to get back to, if I keep him any longer.”

You laugh. “Go on. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“If it hasn’t been burned to the ground, you mean?”

“Yeah, if it hasn’t been burned to the ground.”

Joel nods. He’s fishing about the pocket of his flannel for the key. 

“Enjoy the rest of your day, hon.”

His cheeks heat up. “Yeah, you too, kid.”

You can’t help letting out a little ha ha when he’s getting into his truck, and you’re watching from your post against the doorframe. When he gives you a little wave, he pulls away and you’re ambling back into your hallway. Satisfied. Though somewhat confused. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the trajectory of this day, and you suppose that nothing will ever come close. You just need to figure out what happens next. 

[knoxic]

How to be a High Lady?

How they met

Eris Vanserra x Mate!Reader (f)

Summary: How they met and her discovering the bond.

wc: 3k

warnings: death of family members, fire (non explicit house burning/death by fire), cursing

a/n: Eris being 🤭😍😁😝🤗 whenever she's like 🤨🙄😠😒 is so important to me

part 1, part 2

For months now she tried to put herself back together, trying to move on, but being alone was hard, especially for someone who had always been surrounded by people. Her coven was her family, its oldest members helped her mother give birth to her, helped raise her, its youngest had grown up with her, they all made her who she was now. And they were gone.

Gone, and she wasn't even there to witness it. She was far away, traveling, enjoying everything there was to enjoy, not a single drop of worry in her head, after all, they had promised they'd be fine. She didn't even come back straight away, no, it was weeks after, their house had stopped burning long ago, what was left of it stood black and cold, filled with ashes and sorrow.

She had found herself a place to live but she didn't remember how she did it, everything seemed so... unrealistic, never did it cross her mind that this could happen to them. Days after she came back, when she absolutely needed to get food, she went out in the village to the same place her coven used to go, no one recognized her, maybe they never really pay attention to her or they just didn't care, a way or another, she was glad no one looked her way twice. On the way to her new home she heard whispers about a witch who lived in Autumn, thinking it was her, she stopped and pretended to be examining the bread basket they had placed in front of their bakery.

"Do you think she cursed him? I did see him limping yesterday." One of the males spoke, his voice had a weird accent, from another court then.

"What are you? An idiot?" The baker slapped him in the back of his neck, "That cripple always limped! I heard he asked her to fix his fucked up leg but she couldn't, so he did that." His hands, sprinkled with flour, gestured behind the other male, as if pointing to said 'that'. Her shaky hands dropped the apple she held, the direction the male pointed led to her old house, which meant that whoever this cripple was, he had burned her house, he killed her family.

She ran, faster than she ever had before. Her legs only stopping when her feet met the dirty floor, the rain and wind from the past few weeks had gathered around the ruins laying there, the walls had turned moldy, weeds grew where the tiles had broken. It was all a mess, and still her knees touched it, her arms braced her body, the bare skin of her thighs had gotten wet but she couldn't decide if it was from her tears or the rain, which she didn't even realize had started. She looked up, droplets of rain caressing her face, the sky lighting up with a roaring thunder.

She redeemed herself that day, not feeling sorry for herself for losing her family, she only felt sorry for the way they died and how early it had been for some of them. She found out her old neighbors had buried their bodies in the backyard of their house, their tombs placed one beside the other, straight away she went to her house to gather what she needed for a proper funeral, so that their souls could finally rest.

After that day she busied herself with work, working as a healer for the village, subtly gathering information about her family's murderer, filling herself with knowledge, learning whatever witchcraft she hadn't been taught and anything else that could be useful in the future.

At night it was difficult to shut her brain off, the only time she couldn't distract herself from the grief by focusing on other people's pain. Lately, whenever she managed to sleep, basically passing out from exhaustion, her visions came in the form of dreams, most of them just showed her what kind of help her clients needed. That was until she started seeing red.

A faceless head surrounded by red hair haunted her dreams, resembling a bird's nest from how messy it was, the noise of crackling fire in the background. It had been a week now and she couldn't manage to have a dreamless sleep, she never complained about seeing another person's life, she actually liked seeing their memories, most of the time it allowed her to see life in a different perspective, sometimes it wasn't a good one, but she still learned something new every time. Now she was really starting to hate these memories, whoever it was that demanded her attention was starting to get really annoying.

She set aside her job to focus entirely on the vision, spending her afternoons walking around the villages instead, occasionally stopping at restaurants or bakeries, visiting libraries and sitting around whenever she found a bench. Not once had there been any indication of who this person could be besides their hair, she didn't even know their gender, she caught a blur of the pale skin of a pointy ear but that was all.

If it wasn't for the tasty foods she got to try, her time would've been completely wasted. She met a redhead once but her hair was way too perfect, completely different from the one on her dreams, and she didn't seem in need of anything. After a whole week, she gave up, started meditating instead, clearing her mind and focusing her thoughts on that annoying redhead, wishing that whoever it was, would find their way to her.

For a couple nights, the dreams stopped, maybe it was the herbs tea she had been drinking before bed, or maybe they had fixed their problem themselves and didn't need her help anymore. The next morning she woke up and decided she'd spend the day in her village again, just to be sure.

The day had been going relatively normal, as soon as she stepped out of bed she started feeling a little lightheaded but didn't think too much of it, now as she walked through a small trail on the way home, a path she rarely took, she felt dizzy, her heart beating so hard she could barely hear anything else. She knew there was a bench a few meters away, if she walked a little faster maybe she'd managed before passing out, but she wasn't in that trail anymore, now she stood in front of a cabin. A very cozy looking cabin, from the open curtains she could see a male placing logs in the fireplace, it was too dark to see his face so she stood silently until he started the fire, she didn't know what she expected but... his hands lighting up with flames definitely didn't cross her mind. The log he held caught fire immediately, the male seemed to have no rush in placing it with the other logs, his eyes reflecting the flames like they also burned.

Her sight got blurry again and the familiar forest appeared around the edges, his face being the only thing clear, she couldn't, wouldn't, look away. The red strands of hair that brushed against his delicate eyelashes, his perfect nose, his flushed cheekbones, his perfect plump lips and his captivating golden eyes, she was fascinated.

"Are you alright?" A rough voice snapped her out of whatever that was. Only now noticing she had crouched down, one of her hands braced on her knee, the other massaged her eyes, trying to clear her sight.

"I asked you a question." The male demanded, a warm hand, way too hot to be normal, touched her shoulder.

"Yes, sorry," she closed her eyes and shook her head lightly, "Just dizzy, I guess." She giggled, amazed that she was so struck by a male she'd never seen before, and it was only a vision.

When her eyes opened, she was met with a the cleanest pair of boots she had ever seen, even with pieces of leaves stuck under the soles it still shined, beside his feet was paws. A heavy breathing close to her ear made her jump, her shaky legs pulling herself up and away from the small smokehound who tried jumping on her, landing on their owner's outstretched hand.

"Forgive me, he's young," the male adjusted the hound on his arms, cradling it like a baby. "I'm still training him." He said, locking eyes with her.

Those burning golden eyes that she saw just moments ago were now amber, looking at her so intensely she almost backed away.

"What?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed. She supposed having a stranger stare her down would make her uncomfortable too.

"Sorry, I thought–"

"You keep apologizing..." he muttered, looking almost annoyed.

"I had seen you before." Her voice sounded weak, she was still processing that the male she had been literally dreaming about was right there, not to mention that the most vivid vision she ever had had just happened and it was about him.

Why?

"Well, you might have."

"Who are you?" She questioned and could swear he almost seemed offended.

"I– You don't know who I am?" He lifted an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. Gods, he really was annoying.

"I should?"

He laughed, a deep sound that she swore she could feel in her bones, the hound in his arms whined at being disturbed from his sleep.

"Yes." He dropped the puppy to the floor, her eyes followed the motion and finally seeing the many other hounds who surrounded the male, what the fuck?  "I'm Eris Vanserra." He gave out his hand for her to shake.

"Ah..." His hand on hers felt wonderful, a comfortable touch she hadn't felt in over a year. She distantly heard herself telling him her name but her mind was wholly focused on his touch, the firm grip he had on her hand, the calloused fingers that somehow still felt soft. Why was it so confusing? Not only was he the annoying male that prevented her from sleeping peacefully, he was also irritatingly beautiful. The Mother must be laughing at her face right now. It didn't even look like he needed help!

"You still don't know, do you?" The fucking smirk still hadn't left his face.

"Uh," What even was his name again...Vanserra? Fucking shit.

It was an explicit rule in her coven that they never came close to the Vanserra family. They didn't mess with politics and royalty, their family consisted of many types of fae, even mixed ones, the High Lord hated people like them. Beron hated lesser fae and therefore the people who liked them.

"You're the High Lord's son." Any good thoughts about him were pushed to the back of her mind by guilt, what would her family think if they heard her calling him beautiful?

"And suddenly you're pulling away..." His hand dropped hers after feeling her hold go slack, "Not fun to bicker with the High Lord's son is it?" The smirk on his face turned into a sad smile, his eyes dropping to watch the hounds at his feet. Now the small horde of smokehounds made sense.

"It's not..." she felt sad for him, "It's not smart." She couldn't tell him exactly why she it wasn't fun to be around him.

"Hm, right." His hands slipped into the pockets of his chocolate colored trousers, the hound closest to him perked his ears at the move, Eris slipped a hand out and gave him a bone shaped treat, his hand went back into his pocket and fished out several more treats for the rest of them. She watched amazed.

"So, are you going to tell me why you were crouching down here looking like you would pass out?" His head still didn't down.

"I was dizzy." She said simply, he didn't need to know the reason for her dizziness.

"I gathered that. Why?" He all but rolled his eyes.

"Why what?" She snapped.

"Why were you dizzy?" She could swear she saw the corner of his lip curl upwards.

"Why do you care?" Her braced her arms against her chest, cocking her head at him, he hesitated to answer.

"I don't. Are you going home or do you plan on being here all day?" He started walking around, glancing at both sides of the trail.

"You make a lot of questions..."

"And you seem hesitant to answer them..." He finally looked her way, his eyes filled with something she couldn't exactly place. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing you need to know." Her voice reached his ears like music, her attitude enticing him.

"I'm just teasing you, honey." He laughed, stepped closer to her, slowly enough that she could step away if she wanted to. She didn't. "May I walk you home?"

"You shouldn't." She suddenly wasn't so sure.

"That's not a no..." he cocked his head.

"That's not a yes either..." she mirrored him.

They stared at each other for a while, when his eyes drifted away from hers she took the moment to admire him, not noticing he admired her too.

"Sir..." A voice snapped them out of their little moment. The male stood a few steps away, clad in Autumn colors of armor. "The High Lord demands your presence." Eris nodded at him and he turned away, walking in the direction of her home.

"So, I should be going." Eris said after the male was far enough, the sad smile making its comeback. She wasn't sure what came over her when she answered.

"My house is that way." She looked at the corner the male had just turned.

Eris didn't say anything, only held his arm out and gave her a smirk. She took his arms and they walked silently, his smokehounds close behind, one of them keeping up with him like a shadow, the puppy found their way around her legs.

"He seems to like you, which is weird, they hate everyone." He gave her a sideways glance, "Did you enchant him or something?"

"I don't need to do that." She kept looking at the trail, pretending she didn't see him looking at her with a smile.

They reached her house in silence, a beautiful cottage, a small version of her old home, the front yard was filled with medicinal herbs, a beautiful garden she took pride on. When she tried to pull her arm away from him, his hold tightened, his hand resting on hers.

"Nice garden you got... Hm, Echinacea, Asiatic pennyworth, Calendula..." He patted her hand lightly before dropping it and looking down at her. "Are you a healer?" He smiled.

"Yes." She didn't offer more information.

"Good, always good to know a healer." He nodded. "Well, I must be going, have a good evening, My Lady. Hope to see you around." He bowed while gently lifting her fingers and kissing the back of her hand, when he straightened back his lips still carried that smile. What an adorable smile.

He turned away before she said anything, his hounds followed him with hurried steps, all but one.

"Eris!" She shouted, making him turn back quickly. "The puppy..." She pointed to the small hound at her feet, looking back at them both as if wondering why he was suddenly the sole attraction.

"Oh–" his hand rubbed the back of his neck, his mouth opened and closed but no sound came out, he glanced at another hound who didn't seem to care if the puppy was missing. "Well, keep him, he seems to like you better than me anyway." Eris laughed, his cheeks a tinged pink.

"What? No. I can't–"

"Please, if you're going to keep passing out in those woods, you might need someone to get help for you," he teased. "Besides, it would give me an excuse to see you again, I can train him for you, or teach you how to train him." She feared the smile he gave her at that moment, showing his dimples and perfect teeth, would haunt her forever.

She couldn't argue back fast enough, she wanted someone to keep her company, when she tried to reason with him he was already turning his back on her, whistling to the hounds as if showing that even if he called, the puppy wouldn't leave her.

Years later, she found herself going back home to him. That annoying redhead.

A couple months ago Eris had shown her the cabin he built for them, it was a dream they had in common, building their lives together in a small place. Eris had grown up in a large palace that never felt like a home, he hated the tall ceilings and the maze of corridors, the whole place was filled with servants and guards and still felt empty. She had grown up in a house perhaps too small for the amount of people that lived there, the children were separated into pairs, and they loved the arrangement, some of the adults were couples so they naturally shared rooms too, only her mother and another female had rooms for themselves.

They were raised in completely differently homes and yet their dreams were the same. All they needed was a house big enough to fit both of them comfortably and enough space outside to build more rooms in the future. Their love was the structure of their home and the backbone of their family.

She walked slowly with her hound, Cole, a nickname for Collected, because he's anything but collected. His tail kept bumping her leg, how he could still be excited even after walking for hours was beyond her. Her garden came into view first, then their porch, then she saw Eris from the open window. All of a sudden she was brought back to years ago, a chill running down her spine, to the first time she had a clear vision of him, the way he was moving logs around the fireplace, she remembered clearly how in the next few moments his hand would light up in fire. She had forgotten that vision thinking it was someone's old memory, but it was hers, he was lighting up the fireplace so she would come back to a warm home. Now as she stood there, Cole by her side, watching her lover, she couldn't help falling more in love with him, now she knows why this memory was shown to her that day, why it was so important.

Eris Vanserra was her mate, and now her heart and soul belonged to him.

Taglist: @callsigns-haze, @lilah-asteria, @mybestfriendmademe, @coldmermaidhologram

a/n²: I made Eris name specific plants used for... wounds... and preventing scars from getting larger...

a/n³: I literally sat for a moment looking at the screen like I had just written a murder scene (the first paragraphs of reader's backstory didn't faze me that much, what's wrong with me)

[hypnos333]

Hey I have a request for Lucifer x reader! Where the reader is like a sinner who did wrong things for their love. Like they weren’t a bad person simply in love! And they essentially did it to follow them in hell only for that “love” to betray them. So they decide to redeem themselves at the hotel and meets Lucifer in the process. Thank you for taking time to read this!

Imbalance

Lucifer x Reader

Synopsis: After getting betrayed you meant someone who wasn’t an obsession and was actually pure love

Tears ran down your face as you walked towards a familiar hotel with a backpack and your Beige suitcase. It was raining so people might mistake your tears as Raindrops and thankfully you won’t correct them. You carefully wiped your face just in case and opened the hotel door.

Charlie saw you and instantly got excited. “Hello! Are you here to stay and be redeemed!?” Charlie asked hopefully making more at eased.

“Yea, Uhm I’ve done stuff for love and never actually did stuff for me” You said nervously fiddling with your hoodie strings.

You actually reminded Charlie of her father being depressed because of being betrayed so she welcomes you with open arms.

“That’s okay, let me help you with that” She reassured before taking your suitcase before you could reject her.

“Let me lead you to your room miss-“___” You finished as she nodded excitedly before leading you upstairs to the guess room.

“Is there anyone else doing this?” You asked curiously as you walked beside her.

“Just one person but I guess you can say we force him a bit to do this but other than that it’s just you who seems to want to be redeemed. Demons usually don’t care for these types of things” Charlie said honestly making you nod in agreement.

You yourself are down here because you were just blinded by love. You did anything for your ex like helping him hide a body that he killed or things he asked you’ll immediately do.

“Here we are ____, Call me if you need anything and also breakfast starts at 8:00-9:30” Charlie said as she handed you a key to your room.

“Thank you” You mumbled before entering your room with your suitcase. And all honesty it was bigger than you expected. Plus you got a window to see all of hell.

You sigh before throwing your backpack off your shoulder then flopping on the comfortable bed before falling to sleep accidentally.

A soft knock made you open the door to see Charlie and another girl who looked more intimidating. “Hiii ___ I hope you don’t mind but me and my girlfriend will be escorting you to breakfast” Charlie cheerfully said making you smile at her.

“Of course let me get my sweater” You said before rushing to get your light pink sweater and then closing your door before walking in between the two.

“I’m vaggie by the way” The girl said making you introduce yourself all over again. You weren’t paying attention til you bump into some making you fall to the ground and him only stumble to balance himself.

He turned around and saw you, A beautiful-no A gorgeous woman. “I-I’m so sorry” He said before reaching out to help you up.

“Dad!” Charlie said excitedly, as Lucifer eyes sparkled continued after looking away from you. “Charlie!!!” He said hugging his daughter. You and Vaggie stand there waiting for the father,daughter to be done.

“Oh! ___ this is my dad lucifer and dad this is ___” Charlie introduced making both adults make heart eyes at each other.

“OR you can call me the big boss” Lucifer said jokingly said making you chuckle.

“It’s pleasure to meet the big boss himself” You said sending shivers down his spine and heart racing. He blushes as Vaggie and Charlie stare at the future new couple.

This led to you two being talkive to each other more making you put your trust in him to be able to tell him why you’re in hell.

“I had this Ex who was manipulative but I was really in love to not see it, So whenever he told me to help him hide a body I did it without a doubt and it was more then one time sadly” You said as tears came out your eyes.

He shushed you as he pulled you into him cuddling you. You cried in his shoulder as he rubbed your back making you sleep on his shoulder.

He kissed your forehead before putting you on his lap to get you in a more comfortable position.

A month later:

You woke this time feeling someone under you, His arms around your waist and legs intertwined with yours.

You carefully got up but Lucifer held you down more tightly. “Stay” He mumbled as he put lazy kisses on your neck with his hands slipped under your shirt to rub your back to get you back to sleep. You hummed in agreement feeling sleepy at his touch.

“I love you” You mumbled

“I love you too My Queen” He whispered in your ear.

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Alphabet With Lyney

Yandere Lyney x reader

Thank you!<3

Masterlist

Warnings: murder, violence, imprisonment, manipulation

Word count: 2205

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Lyney loves with his every being. As the ever romantic, his love is suffocating. His touches are constant and playful. He really can’t get enough of you. He will make performances inspired by you as a way of showing his love for you. He will constantly swarm around you, ignoring your annoyed expression. It’s intense and you can’t get him to stop.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As a member of the Fatui, Lyney doesn’t mind blood. He does however not wish for his sweetheart to see his misdeeds. You’re too kind for such darkness. He will give the people around you a chance to redeem themselves. If he sees them as treats, he will kill them. He knows how important family is, so he doesn’t want to kill yours, but sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to.

Such is life.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Lyney is a natural tease, so he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to tease his love. He will mock you with flowery words, making you just nearly miss the mockery. Other than his mocking comments, he will treat you like a princess. He will only bring you the finest of gifts and hold you gently.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Not too much except forcing you to be apart of his magic shows. He will dress you up in pretty costumes and drag you on stage, flaunting his beautiful lover with a grin. He doesn't’ care if you have stage fright, he needs you as a part of his show. You are his lucky charm.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Lyney is extremely vulnerable deep down. He have experienced a lot of pain and he doesn’t want to lose you too. He will be transparent with his love for you. He will confess to you with a rainbow rose in hand in the sunset. Barring as much of his heart as possible. He will however not mention the Fatui. It’s best for you to not know.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

If you fought back Lyney would be hurt, but not surprised. He really loves you and he wishes for you to love him back so he will try to compromise with you. He will let you out of the house and walk around town with you and the wilderness if you would like, but in exchange you have to refrain from snapping back at him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Lyney loves games and will never pass up on one. Of course he loves you more than he can ever express, but he just can’t hold back his laughter when he caught you in the vents of the house. He will purposely leave his key on the dining table when he leaves for rehearsals (he has two sets of keys).

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with the magician was when you stumbled upon him on the side of a remote road. You have decided to take a detour to your home since the weather was good. Lyney had been standing over something resembling a human body. His face splattered in red and his eyes crazed. You had let out a bloodcurdling scream and tried to run away, but he tackled you down. With frantic breathing he told you he had to kill your beloved friend in order to protect you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He wants to marry as quickly as possible with all the children from The House of the Hearth as weeding guests. He will arrange a beautiful and romantic wedding and a tranquil honeymoon. Family is everything for Lyney so he wants to have children with you in the future. He wishes to live happily ever after with you. He will never leave you and you won’t ever be able to leave him.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Lyney is an extremely jealous man. His jealousy is all devouring. He will always have his arm around your waist if possible. He won’t hesitate with showing your admirers the way of the Fatui. He gets jealous when you talk to anyone besides him (his siblings are the only exception).

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He’s extremely flirty and touchy. He treats you like a princess and loves to spoil you. Every time he gets home he will gift you flowers (he says you can never get enough rainbow roses). He is a good actor and his act of a charming prince almost too good.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Lyney is extremely cunning and knows exactly what to say and when to say it. His observant eyes missies nothing and he is able to come up with a plan on how to win your heart, with 100% chances of success (on his part naturally).

He sets up a scenic spot decorated with a 1000 red roses. A flock of white doves flies out of his top hat. He preforms various tricks that is sure to capture the heart of the audience. When the moon hangs high in the night sky, your heart is already his.

Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

The magician is already a two-faced man before he meets you given his position within the Fatui. When he meets you he showers you in sweet words and romantic compliments. When he crosses pats with someone he deems a threat to you or your relationship, his personality is completely different. He became cold and ruthless, showing no mercy as he skilfully slays them. If someone is to tell you about his two-faced behaviour, he is quick to silence them. No one is allowed to taint his rose.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Lynsey’s punishments are as unpredictable as his many tricks. Some days he doesn’t really feel like punishing you and other days he really makes it clear that he is the successor of The House Of the Hearth.

His punishments either consist of lack of food or solitary confinement. He isn’t too fond of punishments, but he recognises the effects it has that is in favour for him.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You’re allowed to roam the streets with either him or his two siblings if you behave well. Lyney deep down wishes for your relationship to be somewhat normal, but if you are making it extremely difficult, he won’t hesitate to confine you within his home.

You’re allowed to read as many books as your heart desires and he even let you keep a little cat as a pet.

He will take you to his shows where he is thrilled to preform for his beloved.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

When it comes to magic and his duties in The House of the Hearth he sees himself as a really patient man, but when it comes to you it’s a whole other story. His poor heart cannot bear seeing you on your own in this big dangerous world. He knows he needs to take his time, but oh is it difficult.

When he finally has you within his arms he will no longer be patient. He has been waiting for so long, so what harm is there?

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you manage to escape from the great magician, he will do anything in is power in order to get you back. He will ask Father for help and despite her cold exterior, she will agree; because family is the most impotent thing and you have become a part of Lyney’s family. You’re to be weeded after all.

If you die Lyney will never be able to move on. His magic shows will decrease in quality and his work within the Fatui will be halfhearted. He will eat less and less and he will never see the point of living ever again. He will wait for his end, but never chase it. He cannot leave his siblings, even if it means finally being with you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Lyney will at first feel a little guilty from separating you from his family. He knows more than anyone else how important family is. He will seek his sister for some advice and while she does feel bad for you, she will encourage her brother. Lynette wants her brother to be happy and she wishes for him to make a family of his own somewhere in the future.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His horrible childhood has definitely played a big part of how he became so very possessive when it comes to you. He has always been terrified of losing those he cares about and you’re far from an exception. When he first met you and fell in love, he knew he had to protect you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Lyney hates seeing you crying and he desperately tries to cheer you up with silly little tricks. If you scream or kick, he will give you time to calm down and if that doesn’t work he will slip some calming medicine into your tea.

If you ever try to isolate yourself, he will persuade you to open your door and come and join him in front of the lit hearth. He understands that you sometimes need time for yourself, but he won’t allow you to shut him out.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

At first the blond magician seem rather harmless with his friendly smiles and his passion for the art of preforming, but under his charming smiles lurks a monster who will shy at nothing when it comes to his beloved. He lured those who have wronged you and kills them in cold blood. He will return to you with a bouquet of beautiful flowers with a gently smile.

He is unpredictable and you never know what he truly thinks as he eyes the man you had just asked for directions. In other words, Lyney is a surprisingly dangerous man.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His weakness is without a doubt his family. His duties within The House of the Hearth sometimes require him to go away from some time, resulting in his siblings being the ones to take care of you. It’s then you chances of escape are the highest.

If you do escape it won’t take long at all till he finds you and drags you back with eyes colder than the unforgiving winter in Snezhnaya.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Lyney would never hurt you, at least not physically. He loves you too much and he cannot bear to see you in pain. If he accidentally hurts you, he will never forgive himself.

He will however play with your mind in mind games in order to wear you out emotionally which results in you clinging to him.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

The famed magician will stop at absolutely nothing when it comes to you. He will let the rivers in Fontaine run red if it means you will be his only. He is a smart man and he knows how to bend the rules to his advantage. You’re more important to him than his two beloved siblings.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It will take a few months max before he finally snaps. He will follow a seamless plan which he has carefully thought out. It won’t be long after the plan has been set in motion before you find yourself tangled in his web with no escape. Just as his vision, his love is passionate and flaming, which will never ever be extinguished.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Lyney will never break you. If he sees your mental health declining he will do anything in his power to help you. Be it outings to a remote cabin in Fontaine’s beautiful wilderness or a visit to the best psychiatrist in the entirety of Fontaine. Lyney’s connections are vast and there are many who owes him favours. He will make sure you return to your old self in no time.

[frickingnerd]

A with a weak s/o

pairing: A / ontos x gn!reader

tags: established romantic relationship, wholesome fluff

A usually doesn't go out of their way to be around other people, but you're the exception

you're not very strong, nor do you have anyone who'd defend you, if you'd ever get in trouble

A knows that if they don't protect you, you'd probably die at the hands of an enemy soldier

that's why A initially starts sticking around you. but over time, there's another reason to it all

A slowly grew fond of you. you were weak, but still determined to try and fight. it was a very endearing quality!

A kept her feelings for you to themselves, until you eventually caught onto them and confessed your own feelings for A

you've had those feelings for A ever since they first rushed to your aid and they had only grown over time

[cissyenthusiast010155]

hi!! i love your fics!

i was wondering whether i can request melissa x reader with prompt 59, please

melissa doesn’t understand how r can find her body attractive so r proceeds to point out reasons why she loves mel and her body

you can choose the direction from there :)

Take My Word, My Word Is Truth ~Top!Melissa Schemmenti xFem Partner!Switch!Reader

Summary— Melissa and Reader go to a Pennsylvania Education Gala. Melissa asks Reader about a compliment, so Reader shows Melissa exactly what she means… Anon Response— Hey heyyy anon!! Thank you for your kind words. I appreciate them as well as your request! I would love to write this for you!! I went with mainly fluff and a little smut at the end. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#59. “You… find this attractive?”

Warnings: NSFW, light smut, mostly fluff, compliments, flustering, implied insecurity, implied self-worth issues, kissing, teasing, marking, light taunting, top/bottom relations, soft dom/sub implications, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

Melissa walked out of her bedroom and down the stairs, waiting by the door.

“Are you ready, ‘hun?” The redhead called out to you in the kitchen.

“Yea coming!!” You called back.

You popped out of the kitchen, finishing putting on your shoes with a smile. Your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of Melissa. She and you were going to a PA education gala. And Melissa was wearing a long, fitting, dark green dress. You gulped and blushed slightly at the sight of the woman, coming up to her ready to go.

“You look… really good…” you breathed out the compliment.

Melissa looked away and blushed lightly.

She never could take a compliment.

“Oh hush now, we’re going to be late…!” The older woman exclaimed, dramatically dragging you out of the house.

The gala itself was a little boring. The only thing redeeming was the free alcohol and getting to see Melissa all dressed up and sexy. The redhead could feel your gaze on you all night.

Later on, as Melissa and you, arms linked were making your rounds to her colleagues. You eventually reached Barbara, one of Melissa’s closest teacher friends.

“Y/N, it is lovely to finally meet you, my dear!” Barbara exclaimed, taking you into a quick embrace, then pulling an older man into the conversation, “Melissa, Y/N, this is my husband.”

You all exchanged pleasantries, before Barbara began asking about you and Melissa.

“Yes, I am so lucky to be able to call this attractive woman my girlfriend…!” You exclaimed, squeezing Melissa’s arm in emphasis.

Melissas entire face practically went red at your comment, and she was quick to grab another drink to hide her reddened face. She cheekily nipped your side in retaliation, making you squeak.

After you and her had made all the rounds, the two of you sat at your table and shared a moment.

“Hey ‘Hun…?” Melissa spoke.

“Yea?” You chirped, looking at your redhead girlfriend.

“You… find this attractive?” She asked, your comment obviously still sticking out in her mind.

You gasped lightly at Melissa’s sudden vulnerable and insecure tone. It sounded like she was about to cry. You immediately took her hand in yours and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Of course I find you attractive, Baby… You are beautiful.” You comfort the woman.

Melissa then looked over to you with slightly watery eyes.

“You really mean that…?” She said in a cracked, wobbly tone.

Your heart nearly broke at the sight. You knew that Melissa hadn’t ever been loved and cared for properly, but it never ceased to make you distraught at how she wasn’t used to love and care and concern.

You took a deep breath and then got up. Melissa looked at you in question and confusion.

“Come on, Let’s go, Mel…” you hum under your breath.

“I… I don’t understand…” Melissa stammered, as you lead her by the hand out of the gala.

“Baby, we said our rounds to everybody, no one will think twice if we leave. And… there’s something I need to do.” You explain, hooking your arm around Melissa’s and leading her out into the cold night.

The drive home was fairly silent, you kept your right hand reassuringly wrapped around Melissa’s hands while you drove. You got home, and you had Melissa come sit with you on the living room couch. You placed a hand on your back and comforted the woman.

“What… what do you need to do…?” Melissa asked, recalling your comment as you had insisted on leaving the gala.

You turned to Melissa with a smile, then getting up and kneeling in front of the woman’s closed legs. Melissa breath caught in her throat, and she looked at you in question.

“I… w-what…?” She stammered, as you took her hands in her lap and comforted her.

You looked up at the woman with love and care in your gaze.

“It has come to my attention that you need to be reminded why you are so beautiful and attractive… and why you deserve to be showered with love.” You hum, bringing her hands to your lips and beginning to kiss each knuckle, one at a time.

Melissa blushed and turned her head to look away. You immediately stopped all your administrations.

“Nuh uh… look at me, amore…” you purr in insistence.

Melissa’s gaze bashfully turned back to you, her face reddened once more.

“Good girl, thank you, baby…” you hummed in praise, kissing her knuckles one by one once more.

Melissa watched your every move with growing and darkening pupils.

“God your hands are perfect…” you purred, as you began to kiss parts of her palms, “Not only do you use them everyday to help and educate your kids at school, but they’re so sexy…” you husked.

Melissa gulped and her mouth partially opened to speak (most likely to refute your compliments), but a firm cock of an eyebrow from you made Melissa sit in her flustered state and accept the praise.

Your kisses migrated to the redheads wrists and lower arms. You took even more time with each affectionate kiss, suck, and bite, leaving a few marks along the way.

“Your arms… are so strong and gorgeous…” you cooed lovingly, slowly moving from her left arm to her right, “You always hold up the weight of the world on them… But sometimes, it’s better to let people help you carry the weight, amore…”

Your kisses moved to her upper arms, and Melissa in response, instinctually opened her legs wide for you. You smirked and slotted yourself still on your knees, in between her legs, so that you were right up against the couch with your chest. Melissa’s heart and cunt flutter in tandem at your closeness.

Once you were satisfied with the arm kisses, you stood up and gave the woman your hand. She took it in curiosity and stood up.

“Your dress… The way it clings to your curves… the way the green accentuates your hair and eyes…” you hum, running your hands up and down the garment and her figure, “You look stunning, baby…”

Shivers run up and down Melissa’s spine. You then gently helped her out for the dress, letting it pool on the ground, before guiding Melissa to sit back on the couch.

You knelt back in between her legs, then proceeding to take her heels off. You kissed her feet, toe by toe, making sure to make eye contact with Melissa after each little suck, nibble, and kiss.

“Your feet… they’ve taken you so far in life… you’ve accomplished so much…” you purr, “And maybe one day, you’ll step on me with them…”

You said that last bit with a wink before moving on to kiss and suck along her legs and up to her knees, one leg at a time. Melissa nearly choked on her own breath from your words and wink. She hated to admit it, but all your praise was melting her heart. And making her wet…

You kissed and marked her legs up to her thighs, now on your standing knees looking up at Melissa.

“Your legs are precious… Also so strong, like the rest of you… They always look so pretty crushing my head…” you cooe cheekily, smirking at the end.

You spread her legs even further, before leaning down and starting to caress and love on her thighs. Melissas eyes fluttered and her mouth went silently open, as your hot mouthed kisses went towards her inner thighs, closer and closer to her core.

“Your thighs… they’re so thick and marvelous… love how they bounce when you walk… love how they suffocate me…” you husk.

Melissa had gotten the message. Her face was burning red and she was riled up enough. One of her hands snaked into your hair and tried to silently guide you or her core, implying how badly she needed you.

But you waved her off with ease, not done making your point. While one hand held her thighs open, your other snaked around the back of her neck. You looked up to the red head, guiding her to lean down toward you with your hand on her neck. You stared at the woman with unadulterated lust in your eyes and parted lips. Her gaze was now unabashedly meeting yours, filled with lust and joy.

You leaned forward and connected your lips to hers. Your lips intermingled with hers in a light, loving, yet passion filled kiss. But you pulled away much too soon to Melissa’s dismay, leaving her whimpering at the loss of contact.

“Your lips are better than perfection… they’re soft and plump… and so delicious…” you cooed lustfully into the redheads ear, “And your voice… God, I think I could cum from it alone…” you groaned out.

“Enough Cucciolina.” Melissa breathed out, her tone low, sultry, and filled with lust.

Your breath hitched at the pet name, and you bit your lip, awaiting the woman’s next words eagerly. Melissa then guided your head back down to her cunt. She gazed down upon you on your knees, her eyes dark and dominating, now believing in her power thanks to your praise and showing her.

“I keep hearing all this talk about how attractive you find me…” she purred, “That’s all talk… Why don’t ya’ show me, Cucciola…?”

Your eyes widened and you blushed slightly. Her hand then urged you face first into her clothed clit and you happily teased the woman through the thin material. You groaned, quickly taking your hand from her neck and scrambling to remove her panties. Melissa shifted her hips upward, and you quickly removed the lousy excuse for underwear, throwing it aside.

“You’re so beautiful…” you groaned, as you caught sight of the woman’s gleaming, slick pussy, before diving into her cunt and making Melissa’s head loll back with a moan.

~~~

Melissa Schemmenti Masterlist

[frenchkisstheabyss]

୨୧ ｓｔｒａｗｂｅｒｒｙ ｊｕｌｉｕｓ ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x chubby!fem!reader x boyfriend!namjoon

୨୧ Genre: fluff, smut, rocker au/crime au combo

୨୧ Summary: The night of an event you've been stressing out about for weeks, you find stress relief in an unexpected but welcome place.

୨୧ Word Count: 2.4k-ish

୨୧ Warnings: unprotected sex, double penetration, double creampie, anal, light choking, dirty talk, pet names, strong language (I can be a potty mouth, sry), pet names (love, baby), dom vibes if you squint, & that's all I think.

୨୧ A/N: I really wanted to mix two of my favorite au's with two of my favorite people so here we are. There's definitely gonna be a part two because my brain won't shut up about this. Anyway, I hope you like it my loves 🖤

Punk music blares from the speakers in your living room, the distorted strumming of guitars and brutal drumming enough to shake the walls of your two story home. Playing your music as loud as you want whenever you want. One of the few perks that come with living on the edge of the city where your nearest neighbor's an elderly woman a mile down the road who never uses her hearing aid.

A hearing aid. You’ll need one any day now if you keep this up but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re having the time of your life fresh out of the shower, dancing around in your towel while you tear your closet apart to find an outfit for the party tonight. Everything has to be perfect. Your hair. Your outfit. Your makeup. Jungkook says you’re perfect already. That everything else is just decoration.

With all the effort he put into getting your band invited to this party, your “decoration” needs to be more memorable than ever. Everyone who’s anyone on the punk scene will be there tonight. From journalists to producers to some of the women who inspired you to start a band to begin with. The pressure to make a lasting impression is insane and the precise reason you’re running on 4 hours of sleep right now. You’ve been moving non-stop since this morning, trying to outrun your doubts and insecurities.

“Love, slow down. Let me help you” Jungkook whispered in those moments he caught you burning yourself out. You don't know what you'd do without the sweetheart that he is. Digging through your top drawer you pull out a pair of fishnets, the ones he can't get enough of, and you're instantly reminded of the other side of him. Thoughts of all the filthy things you’ve done in these fishnets bring a tingle to your cheeks that spreads between your thighs like wildfire. 

“Not tonight” you say to yourself, tossing them back in, “I’ll never be able to focus.” Shaking off vivid memories of being fucked against the questionably clean mirror of a dive bar last weekend, you continue to raid your closet, carelessly making a mess that’ll be a problem for future you to deal with.

“Baby!” Jungkook shouts, stepping through the front door twirling his keys around his fingers. His heavy black combat boots hit the hardwood like the steps of a giant as he marches over to the speaker and turns the music down. “Baby! Where are you?” There’s an adorable pitter patter of feet from above before your voice sounds from the top of the stairs. “I’m here! Get everything you needed from the store?” 

His brain glitches. The store? Oh, yeah. That lie he told you about needing to run to the store for something. You never pressed him for specifics. A testament to the level of trust you have in him. Trust that hopefully won’t be shattered by the fact that he lied his ass off. He cuts his eyes at the tall man looming by the door, knowing that his presence is the only thing that’ll redeem him. 

“Uh, yeah, I did” he lies, appearing at the bottom of the stairs, “Could you come here for a second?” Without bothering to answer, you skip down the stairs, only hitting the second to last step before he has his arms around your plush figure. The towel bunches up around your waist, raising your towel just enough to allow your ass to poke out the bottom. He can’t resist brushing his fingers along the softness of your ass.

A move that reignites that tingling you felt earlier and has your lips latching onto his before he can say another word. Jungkook dives right in, shoving his hands beneath your towel to hungrily grip handfuls of your curves. There’s no time for this but he’ll make it. He has to. Something about you drowns out his reason. He’d postpone his own funeral if it meant he got to touch you one last time. 

“Does everyone who comes over get to watch or am I just special?” Namjoon teases, slamming the front door shut. Jungkook’s stomach sinks, suddenly remembering what he’d actually left the house to pick up. Yours sinks even lower. That voice. It hasn’t lived within these walls for years. Jungkook steps back, waving Joon over. “I, uh, got something extra from the store.” 

A half dozen emotions brew inside of you, none of them identifiable. You only know that your feet are glued to the ground. That your mouth is drier than it's ever been and your heart’s beating in your throat. Joon approaches you, his arms outstretched to welcome you into a hug. When you don’t budge, your pouty bottom lip the only part of you able to move, he pulls you into his arms anyway.

The strength of his hug, the love laced within it, heals something inside of you that has your vision going hazy with tears. Lifting you from the stairs, Joon brings you between him and Jungkook. They hug you from both sides the way they used to before Joon went away. 4 years in prison. Light work for washing dirty money but an eternity for your close knit trio. You haven’t laid eyes on him since that last day in court.

He’d only let Jungkook come visit, insisting that you shouldn’t be in a place like that. You lost count of the hours you spent in tears hating him for keeping you away but loving him too much for the feeling to ever stick. Your Joon didn’t belong locked away with killers and god knows who else. Everything he did, everything you did together, was to survive. He'd never hurt anyone and knowing he might be surrounded by people who would made being kept at a distance sting that much more.

There was no way you and Jungkook would’ve survived without each other. Him losing his best friend and you losing one of your loves. No matter how far your careers advanced, how nice this house was, or how much money you had tucked under the floorboards in the attic, nothing could change how incomplete you feel. How incomplete you felt.

“Ouch!” Joon cries, jumping when you pinch his side, “What was that for?” “What the fuck are you doing here?” you shout, wiping the tears from your eyes. Joon just laughs, “I still live here don’t I?” “Duh, you idiot! But you’re not supposed to—your release is months away—I thought—” You turn to Jungkook who grabs your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours before you pinch him too.

“Early release. I was gonna tell you, I just thought it’d be a fun surprise. Plus you were so freaked out about tonight. I just didn’t wanna psych you out. You mad at me?” Jungkook pouts, those brown puppy dog eyes pulling you in like they always do. “I’m not mad” you huff, rolling your eyes while leaning in to let him peck you on the cheek. Joon kisses you on the neck from behind, his large smooth hands massaging your tense shoulders.

You reach back, running your palm across his buzz cut hair, “I like the new hair. It’s kinda hot.” “Only kinda?” he asks, nipping at your neck, revenge for that pinch earlier. His hands slide down, patiently rounding your curves to reach your exposed thighs. “Stop” you giggle, a chill running up your spine, “I have to get ready.” Jungkook pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time. “We can always help you get ready” he grins, pushing his knee between your thighs to make enough space for Joon to run two fingers over your slit.

“It’s so wet down there” Joon hums, “Is that just from the shower or—.” Twisting free, you rush back up the stairs, stopping halfway up to glance back at them. “I still need to do my hair.” Jungkook shrugs, taking two steps toward you, “I’m pretty good with hair.” You swallow hard, wiping your sweaty palms on your towel. “And…and my makeup.” Joon tilts his head to see you better, “I can do that.”

Why are they like this? So annoyingly persistent. It’s not like you don’t want it. The thought had crossed your mind to have a quickie with Jungkook when you were standing in your bedroom zoning out with those fishnets in your hand. With Joon back you find yourself wanting it even more. Those feelings that overcame you are much clearer now. Passion. Love. Lust. Joy. All fighting for dominance and right now one in particular’s winning.

Look at them. They’re both so fucking handsome. And the closer they get the harder it is to ignore the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in. “Just a kiss” it whispers as Jungkook catches up to you, his lips dangerously close to yours. You close your eyes as your lips meet, his tongue snaking against yours. One kiss. Just one.

Joon dreamt of being with you like this again. Him lying across the bed, pillows beneath him to keep him at the perfect angle to lower you into his lap. Fingers digging into the plush of your hips, he guides his length, coated in lube from base to tip, to that gorgeous ass he got a few nibbles of when you first took your towel off. “Joon…ah” you gasp, biting down on your bottom lip as the warm tip penetrates your tight hole.

Anal was never Jungkook’s thing. Seeing those cute heart shaped butt plugs you liked to wear when he had you bent over was the extent of his interest. Joon on the other hand had always been insatiable and time hasn’t changed that. “Fuck, still so tight for me” he groans out in pleasure, the tightness of your ass choking his dick the deeper he goes.

When he finally bottoms out, you fall back onto his bare chest moaning weakly, drool already leaking from the corners of your mouth. Earlier your body wouldn't even move. Now you can’t stop it from trembling, the fullness overwhelming you enough to turn your brain to soup.  Joon locks an arm around your waist, the other coming around so he can palm your breast. 

“Missed you” he whispers, rocking beneath you at a pace slow enough for his and your sanity. Your hand skims his forearm, nails digging in when he does a slight bounce to mess with you. He’s definitely put on some weight while he was away. Whatever they were feeding him, whatever weights he was lifting, you approve because he’s stronger than you ever knew him to be and you’re loving it.

“You sure you can take both of us?” Jungkook taunts, shifting his weight on the bed to hover between your legs. He places a hand on your knee, dipping two fingers into your core. He's achingly hard, twitching, leaking precum on the blankets at the sight of how wet you are. Your pussy glistens so beautifully, your walls clenching around his fingers while Joon fucks your other hole. Jungkook awaits your answer but he’s only met with your needy moans and cries.

“You have to say something, baby” he says, his thumb strumming your clit, “Tell me what you want.” The hand on your knee comes around your neck, his hold on you firm yet gentle. Joon slows his movements, offering you a second—and only that—to get your thoughts together. “Come on, you can do it. Tell us what you want.” Jungkook’s fingers are still working inside of you, mercilessly milking your g-spot.

“I…I can take it” you whine, forcing the words from your throat, “Fill me up. Please. Want it so bad. So bad.” “That’s my girl” Jungkook smiles, popping his fingers out of you. You watch as he strokes himself, using your arousal as lubricant. Joon’s hips begin to move again, leaving you pulsing in two places at once. Your clit stiffens as Jungkook rubs his tip between the silken folds of your warmth, sinking into you without warning. 

They take turns thrusting into you, one then the other, making sure you feel every arch and defining vein along their shafts. This perfect dance of pleasure and overstimulation has you crying out, tears leaking from watery eyes. Incoherent moans flow out into the ether and it’s not just you, it's them too. You can’t get enough of it, rotating your hips as best you can to pull the dirtiest noises out of them. Joon pulls your head back to kiss you and the moment you break for air Jungkook’s kissing you too, suspending you in a constant state of breathlessness. 

You’ve forgotten all about the party, your worries reduced to nothing by the ecstasy of this unexpected reunion. There’s nowhere else you want to be but here between the men you love, tension winding in your belly. You whine something between Joon’s lips and they just know what it is. Letting go of your throat, Jungkook slips his hand between your waist and his, rubbing your clit to push you over the edge. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” you scream, ears ringing as juices stream from your core, making the sound of your bodies snapping together even sharper. 

You feel weightless, disembodied, floating above yourself, jerked back to reality only by the pressure of Joon coming inside of you. You hold his hand, pressing down onto him as you kiss him over your shoulder. At the same time you’re tugging at Jungkook’s hair, keeping him flush against you. “Harder” he begs, his thrusts growing sloppier the harder you pull. One final tug has him unraveling, another wave of warmth filling you just as the other fades away.

The energy in the room gradually comes down, heavy panting turning to light breaths as you cuddle beside each other, your sweat slicked bodies still tangled together. “Still need help with your hair?” Jungkook asks, lovingly petting your head. Joon peeks over to find you sleeping more peacefully than you have in years. He kisses you on the forehead, pulling the blanket over you. “I don’t think so.”

[chatterbox-73]

Simptember 2024.

Day 4 - Comparison.

Tamaki Amajiki x fem!Reader.

{Shoto Todoroki}

This story is a smut story for simptember, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for simptember and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/n: I am planning a second part that will be released later on… also I love Tamaki and kinda really hate how I wrote him in this one, so I might try to redeem myself in the future with a sweet Tamaki fluff/smut… but who knows🤷‍♀️

Part two - Shoto Todoroki: To you

Summary: compared to your step-brother and tormented by him constantly, until you find something, or rather someone he can’t take away from you… is this person a blessing or yet another way for him to toy with you.

Word count: 4k

CW: NSFW and adult content, college AU, quirkless AU, parental issues, drinking, ab*se, other dark themes… step-brother!Todoroki, oral (f!receiving), doggy style, fingering, masturbating, dirty talk, casual sex, nipple play.

You despised your mother, you absolutely hated her and it was all because she went on to find happiness and remarried, with her new happiness and husband came his son… shoto… mister fricking perfect. The son she always wanted and from that day on you’d be constantly compared to your older step-brother, every grade you got shoto had already received, nothing was every good enough anymore, and yet you kept trying.

Though you thought that once you finished high school you’d be rid of him, however he must have seen your plans for college and decided to follow them, so you were livid when he announced he’d be attending the college you dreamed of attending and he was also excepted into the exact program you wanted to study, you struggled to contain your anger. Later that night you scolded him… “you’ve already ruined my high school reputation, can’t you just leave me alone!” You shouted not worried about your parents as they’d gone out for drinks with the neighbours, “can’t you just let me have this!” You cried and grabbed the scruff of shoto’s shirt, “I fucking hate you!” You yelled into his emotionless face, “I hate you so fucking much!” Suddenly without warning Shoto’s face contorted into an expression you’d never seen before, the older teen grabbed your face and pulled you in close, “that’s no way to speak to your big brother…” He focused you back into the wall and gripping your face tighter to the point you were certain your teeth would break, “right?” He spat out and banged your head back into the wall, you sobbed out a ‘yes’ before the boy let you go, you fell down to the ground and shoto place a hand on your head, “be a good girl and respect your elder brother… got it?” His voice was soothing and relaxed as he softly brushed his fingers through your hair before grabbing a fistful and giving it a yank, shoto left the room and you were left on the ground shocked and confused.

Despite whatever you said or did to Shoto, he’d never reacted, in all honesty his apathy pissed you off to no end, however today he terrified you. You had certainly said things far worse then ‘I hate you’ and you’ve been far more physical with him, going as far as hitting and kicking him, however he’d never even so much as flinched, but today he look as though he was about ready to kill you. You were sure that from that moment onwards you’d never fight him, or anger him again.

__

You sat in your college elective classroom, it was filled with all different students, some where in your year while others were not, you watched one of your upperclassmen longingly as he sat three rows in front of you. Tamaki Amajiki, he was a shy but incredibly polite and so gentlemanly, he was also very handsome, Tamaki was your ideal guy but he of course, didn’t know it, you were still trying to gain enough courage to tell him. You watched Tamaki write all the notes on the screen into his notebook, “alright, this elective is going to have lots of group projects so I’m going to let you choose your groups, it must be 4 to 5 in each group and choose wisely as this will be your group for the rest of the year” the professor explained and before you could look down at Tamaki you were startled by his soft voice next to you, “hey let’s work together” he stated and he stood next to your table, you looked up at him and smiled, he returned it with a soft smile of his own and continued on speaking “it’s good to work with people you know” you moved over one seat and offered your previous seat to him, which he took with a smile, before being able to continue with your conversation two others came over, a couple who were the same age as your step brother and were even in his class in high school. “Hey can we join your group” the small brunette with round cheeks asked, you looked at them sceptically before nodding, the four of you sat down but before you could begin planning for the project another person asked to join your group, “it looks like all the other groups are full and the ones that aren’t, are full of people I don’t know” you looked up to see your step-brother standing over your table, “our group is full…” you state nonchalantly, learning back in your chair and pointing to another group that only had three members, “that group needs one more person… go there” you smirk and you can see a slightest hint of that look he gave you all those years ago, “oh yeah… you don’t want me around?” Shoto tilted his head and folded his arms over his chest, ‘yes’ you thought eyeing him. “Of course not todoroki-kun, we’d love to have you apart of our group” stated the green hair guy and you glanced over to him, a glare playing on your features, ‘of fucking course… get your damn friends here to help you out’ you looked down at your note book and felt someone tap your shoulder, “it is alright, isn’t it?” Asked Tamaki with a weak smile and you nodded, “that’s good… I’m okay with it, if you are” he stated and you smiled brightly, a blushed growing on your cheek, you could always count on Tamaki… and yet you were still too much of a coward to ask him out.

You laid back in bed watching the ceiling, your mind wandered to earlier in the day, to the way Tamaki touched your hand when passing you the group notes, you found your hand moving up to your chest, your fingers brushing over your breast, before you softly pinched your clothed nipple, you whimpered and your legs instinctively pressed together, as you gently rolled your nipple between your thumb and index finger, your other hand then slowly moving down your body, your hand lifted your night shirt and you pressed a finger against your bundle of nerves, you moaned out before your hand occupying your chest moved to your mouth, you lightly rubbed circles on your clothed clit. You moaned into your hand and your hips bucked every so often, it felt so good, too good, but it just wasn’t enough, you brought your other hand down to your panties, before you cautiously moved the damp fabric to the side, your middle finger rubbing against your opening daring to enter, “Tamaki… fuck me Tamaki” you softly gasped out as you bucked your hips, however just as your finger was about to venture in, your phone began to ring.

Snapping out of your lust fuelled haze, sitting up and grabbing your phone, you answered it without thinking, “hello…” you huffed and moved to quickly fixed yourself, “uh hi… I was… uh wondering if… if we- if we could go for drinks tonight” Tamaki said into the phone, you looked at the clock it was late and you had already gotten into your pyjamas, however Tamaki was asking you out for fricking drinks. “Yes… yeah I’d like too, we can get food too” you smiled and took a deep breath, trying to calm your heart, “where should we go?” You asked, standing and walking to your closet to grab something to wear, “the xx bar on xx street, near the train station” he spoke and you nodded as if he could see you, that bar was a hot spot for couples and people to meet up for casual hookups, before you could get caught up in your thoughts he spoke again “let’s meet at xx station across the road from the bar, in an hour” Tamaki stated “yeah, I’ll see you there… bye” you giggled and hung up the phone, you sat up and began kicking your legs in excitement, before you quickly got up and start trying on dresses before settling on a black bodycon dress with a deep v neckline filled in with mesh, then moving onto your hair and make up.

“Wow, you looked like a whore” your head snapped around to look at the man leaning against your doorframe, you rolled your eyes and scoffed, “oh yeah, I heard scumbag guys like you liked whores…” you stated as you stood up and fixed the bottom of the dress and your heels, before straightening up and looking directly at shoto, “so you complaining or what?” You snapped and began to walk out of your bed room, now that you are ready there’s no need to be standing around talking to him, “yeah you’re right, guys like me do like whores… so you think if you dress like that, he’ll fuck ya” shoto chuckled and you sighed just as you reached the door, you looked back at him from the front door with a smile, “oh I’m planning on it… but so was he, why else would he invite me to xx bar” you hummed and placed a hand on door handle turning it too leave, however he stopped you, “and how do you expect your virgin ass to get him off, I’m certain you haven’t even seen a dick before let alone ride on one.” Shoto barked out a laugh, “let me help you, I’ll teach you the art of pleasuring a man” he smirked and began to walk towards you, “there’s no need, I’ve slept with people before sho-chan… thanks for the offer but I’m sure I’ll show Tamaki-Senpai a really good time” you smile and left out the front door not giving him a chance to speak.

You stepped off the train and instantly spotted Tamaki, the man stood with his back against the wall, his usually unruly hair that fell over his eyes was pulled back and neat, he had a black medical mask covering his face, he also wore a pair of black slacks, a black t shirt that clung tightly to his chest and arms, a navy green blazer, a long black overcoat and plain dress shoes.

Tamaki looked up at you and a shy smile played on his face under the mask, you walked over to him and watched as he straightened up, “your dress is very pretty” he glanced down at the large open on the front of the dress as he complimented you, as he took your arm and began to guide you out of the train station, you weren’t expecting Tamaki to act as forward as he was but you had to admit you liked it. “Thank you Tamaki, you look very handsome tonight” you smiled as you began walking towards the bar that stood right across from the train station. The bar was loud and crowded, filled with all sorts of people, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to find a seat with how full it was, however Tamaki spoke to the doorman and you were then both directed to a small booth by a server in less then five minutes of waiting, you slid into the small booth and looked around in awe, “I reserved this spot a little while ago” he mumbled and slid into the booth moving right next to you so that his thigh was pressed against yours, you turned to him “you knew I’d accept your offer?” You teasingly whispered leaning forward and reaching for his mask pulling it down, Tamaki moved in closer and rested his arm around the back of the chair, “I get the feeling you want me as much as I want you” he whispered in your ear, you moved your hand to his upper thighs and squeezed it, “if you’re implying you want to do me… then yeah, I feel the same” you visibly pressed your legs together, you felt Tamaki shift before leaning further into your ear, “I want it more then anything” he shakily whispered grabbing your shoulder tightly “then should we go-“ you began to ask but before you could finish a server brought your table a couple of menus, “here are your menus, do you have an ideas of what you’d like or should I come back?” She asked with a polite smile, “oh umm… we’ll have some Edamame, Karaage, Gyoza and Yakitori… and a few rounds of beer” Tamaki’s voice shook slightly as he ordered, but it was like he knew exactly what to get, by the way he didn’t once even glance at the menus, before passing them back while putting in his order, “of course sir” the server smiled and left, “I’m impressed, a man who knows what he wants” you giggled and Tamaki’s face went bright red before he began to stumble out a string of jumbled sentences, you laughed even more “I’m only teasing you” you sighed and grinned, Tamaki grabbed your waist and leant into your ear, “but you’re right… I do know what I want” he whispered shakily as his lips lingered over your ear for a little while longer, now it was your turn to go red in the face.

You and Tamaki continued to tease and chat with each other as you drank and ate, though as suddenly as the atmosphere became comfortable and at ease, it suddenly became tense again as the food and alcohol had ran out and now you were both left tipsy and waiting for the other to make their move, “shall we…” you started but quickly closed your mouth and pressed your thigh so closely against Tamaki’s, your leg was practically resting atop his own, “yes, if you want that” he spoke unsure if this was the right thing, you nodded “where could we go? My step-brother’s home and you have housemates…” you looked out into the crowd of people, Tamaki’s hand brushing over your legs and his fingers tickled just under the hem of your tight dress, “I booked a hotel room, let me take you there” you look at him in shock but nodded and grabbed his hand pulling him out of the booth, before leading him out of the restaurant.

Despite the busyness of the city streets all the sounds and people were drowned out, by the sound of your heart racing and the feel of Tamaki’s hand creeping lower and lower down your back, time seemed to move quickly and slowly at the same time, but before you could spiral you found yourself in the lobby of a large hotel, you weren’t too sure where you were exactly but in was so fancy, Tamaki walked through the lobby to the elevator not stopping at the reception desk, “don’t we need to check in?” You asked and Tamaki shook his head, “I checked in earlier, I didn’t think I could handle the embarrassment of the receptionist knowing what we’re about to do” he explained in a quick voice, “I see…” you hummed watching the numbers on the elevator go higher and higher, you hadn’t even realized Tamaki had pressed the button for the very top floor, “so what are you planning to do to me?” You whispered and looked up at him before leaning in and pecking him lips, with a red face Tamaki gulped and grabbed a handful of your ass, “whatever I want” he whispered and became so red, you began to get worried, “I’m sorry, let’s lay off on the dirty talk” you hummed and looked at one of the many mirrors in the elevator, “don’t be sorry, Mirio said I should be more forward” he spoke and gave your butt a squeeze, you turned to him to say something however before you could your lips were captured in a needy kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, you moaned as your tongues danced.

The elevator beeped and you both pulled apart, before hastily exiting and speedily walking down the hall to your room, Tamaki fumbled with the key slightly but once the card was scanned and the door was unlocked, he quickly opened the door and lead you into the room. The room was beautiful but you weren’t able to focus on it for long as you remember the reason you were in this very fancy hotel room.

You turned to Tamaki who was sitting on the bed preparing himself for what was about you come, you walked over to him and stood before him, “have you done it before…?” You asked and reached for the straps of the dress, you pulled the top of your dress down to rest on your hip, allowing your breasts to bounce freely on display for the man sitting before you, “I have” he hummed and reached up for your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples, Tamaki then leaned in and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples to suckle on it and lick over the sensitive bud every so often. Tamaki’s hands moved down your body slowly, while continuing his attack on your chest, tickling your skin before settling his hands on your hips, however just as you thought he was done he pulled your dress up over your hips, making the material bunch up on your waist, Tamaki then moved his hands to your ass where he squeezed and moulded your flesh, he twisted the side of your thong around his finger for a moment as he pulled away from you and looked down at the sheer fabric, that had been soaked through. “I wanna prepare you, but I’m aching so badly” he whispered and you leant down, “I was in the middle of preparing myself when you called me…” you whispered in his ear and watched as said ear went red, you grabbed his hand and pressed his fingers against the crouch of your panties, “see I’m ready, I can’t wait any longer” you whined and Tamaki’s fingers rubbed over the wet patch on your panties before he slowly pulled the fabric to the side and slid a finger inside you, you gasped and grabbed his shoulders as he caught off guard by the suddenness, Tamaki stood and placed his free hand on the back of your thigh before lifting you and walking you around the bed, only to then placed you in the centre, before climbing on the bed and settling between your legs.

“I thought we were going to get straight into it” you moan as Tamaki’s fingers curled in you, he hummed and nodded “you’re right…” he avoided eye contact before he leant back and grabbed your hips, he then gently guided you to turn over onto your stomach, “let’s do it like this” he whispered, while pulling your hips up and back towards him. You heard Tamaki fiddling with something before you saw him place his wallet on the side table, you looked back and watched as the man shifted and removed his clothing before picking up a small square wrapper off the bed, you watched intensely as he slid off his boxers and opened the condom wrapper to then slid it on effortlessly, like he’d done this a thousand times before. Tamaki looked up and saw you watching him, “oh… umm… should I…” he stumbled over a half coherent sentence, you nodded and turned to look forward, “yeah let’s start” you also started to feel your confidence slipping from you, however before you could even work to start rebuilding it, Tamaki decided he was done waiting and with a deep breath he slipped his tip into you.

You moaned and reached back for his hand, that had settled itself onto your hip, while the other held tightly onto the back of your thigh, with a deep cuss and a tightening grip he slid fully into you, you throw your head back and moaned loudly at the fullness.

“Tamaki… please” you begged in desperation at the way his hips moved so gently, “more… hard… harder” you cried trying to move your hips back into him, but because of the hold on them he had, it was completely impossible, leaving you even more needy. You looked back at him and saw he was already watching you, your face heated up and you were certain that now the tables had turned, Tamaki was now the more confident, more assertive person in this dynamic, he smiled softly and gave you one hard thrust that shoved you into the mattress, you gasped and gripped onto the bed sheets, before you knew it one hard thrust became two, and two became three, until a steady pace of forceful thrusts formed and now you were being pressed into the mattress, while you cried and sobbed nonsense.

Tamaki groaned, grabbing roughly at the dress sitting around your waist and the straps of your underwear in one hand as the other grabbed the junction between your thigh and hip, using them as leverage while he continued his assault on your cunt, Tamaki reared his head back and stared at the ceiling, “fuck… Tamaki I’m close” you whined loudly and reached a hand back, you looked back at him, watching him take even deep breaths as he focused on the ceiling, you ran your nails down into his carpet of trimmed hair, Tamaki shuttered, his eyes glaring down his nose at you and your cunt squeezed at the way he looked at you and how he huffed out short breaths, his face contorted with pleasure and the sound of his moans and whines that’s were louder then you’ve ever heard him before made your body contract and a warmth full you. Tamaki pulled out of you and grabbed your thighs spreading them apart, before leaning in and replacing his cock with his tongue, you cried at the way his tongue flicked and glid over your folds to then move onto paying your clit all the attention it deserves, soon your cunt was squeezing again, this time around nothing, your legs shook and your voice became horse, “Tamaki please… no… no” you cried and tried to pulled away, however he just held you in place and continued to take you with his tongue, you managed to reach back and dug your fingers into his hair, trying to push him away, your body seized up and you let out a silent scream, your toes curled and your fingers griped tightened.

Tamaki finally pulled back and your body collapsed onto the bed, you watch as he pulled the used condom off and discarded it into the small bin beside the bed, he then moved to grab a handful of tissues, Tamaki wiped any cum off his shaft before wiping his face and lips clean, then he moved onto you, he gently wiped you and removed your clothing fully, “I had a lot of fun, we should do this again…” he nervously chuckled as he laid down next to you, pulling the blanket over the both of you and placing an arm around your waist.

You walk through the front door and found shoto sitting on the couch, “had fun little sis…” he spoke lowly and there was that look sitting behind his eyes, you didn’t say anything but just stood there, shoto stood and walked over to you “you dirty used up whore…” he grabbed your shoulder and looked down at the mark Tamaki left on your chest, “get off me” you pulled away and began to walk to your room, “you know he only just broke up with his girlfriend… like earlier today… just after our elective session” he smiled and you stopped for a moment, “that’s why your little date was so well planned out” Shoto hummed and you snapped your head back around to look at him, “you’re just his little rebound, until he gets tired of you or his girlfriend goes running back to him… you know when I’m done fucking her” he chuckled and walked up to you, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “you really should be thanking me” he wrapped a hand around your neck, “so go on say it…” he bared his teeth and squeezed his hand slightly, “thank you..” you looked down and a feeling of true defeat washed over you, “hmm, that’s doesn’t feel good enough, get down on your knees and thank me the way I should be thanked” he smirked and pushed you to the ground, before grabbing at this belt buckle and undid his pants, pulling them down low on his hips, “come on now, thank me… and later when I’m fucking you, I won’t have you facing away from me and I’ll hold you closely” he smirked before walking off to his room signalling for you to follow him.

Simptember Masterlist

Day 3 - Hanji Zoe: Stuck with me

Day 5 - Zero Kiruyu: Love bites

[cece693]

you wrote about the mad hatter so well... i don't want to overwhelm you, obviously, but i would love a 2nd part!! and maybe in the future you can write some smut scenario with him? 😶‍🌫️

You're Not Crazy Pt. 2 (The Mad Hatter x M! Reader)

Here's the second part :) I'm iffy on writing smut for the Hatter since he's so childlike and I think he wouldn't go that far with someone, he probably finds kissing pleasurable enough, but who knows. I'll probably end up doing it 🤷‍♀️

tags: angst, happy ending, the reader tries to say goodbye, mentions of Alice, the reader is an idiot, but redeems himself

The Hatter's words stung, but you couldn't stay with him. You didn’t belong to Wonderland, as much as you envisioned yourself adapting to the world. You didn’t share its whimsical madness, its strange logic that defied all reason. You loved its colors, its characters—especially him—but deep down, you felt like an outsider playing pretend in a place that wasn’t truly yours.

So, you left.

Back in the real world, everything felt strangely muted. The once-familiar streets seemed dull and lifeless, lacking the vibrancy of Wonderland. Your sister Alice noticed your somber mood almost immediately. She’d seen you come back looking tired or perplexed before, but never like this. It was as if the life was sucked out of you; You weren’t yourself. She knew something big must've happened to put you in such a state.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room, Alice found you sitting by the window, staring off into the distance. She approached quietly, her voice soft. “You’ve been awfully quiet since you got back. What happened in Wonderland?"

You hesitated, the words sat heavily on your tongue, reluctant to be spoken. How could you even begin to describe what had transpired in Wonderland? The way the air had seemed to still when the Hatter looked at you with those wild eyes, the hurt lurking behind his laughter? But after a moment, you sighed and decided to open up, knowing Alice would pester you otherwise.

“The Hatter…he told me to leave. He said I should return home. So, I did.”

Alice watched you carefully, her brow furrowed with concern. “But why would he say that?” she asked softly. She knew the Hatter was eccentric and unpredictable, but she had seen how he looked at you, how his eyes lit up whenever you were near.

You shook your head, frustration mixing with the ache in your chest. “I don’t know.” you admitted, though it wasn’t entirely true. “I think…I think he was afraid. Afraid I’d leave on my own someday, find something more important than him.” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your fists to steady yourself. “He wanted to push me away before I could do it to him.”

Alice remained silent for a moment, her expression softening as she pieced together what you weren’t saying. “So, you just left because he told you to?” she asked, not accusingly but with a kind of gentle reproach. “Without telling him how you felt?”

You looked down, guilt settling like a stone in your stomach. “I thought it was what he wanted.” you murmured. “I didn’t want to hurt him more by staying. But leaving…it felt wrong, too. It still does.”

Alice reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You men and your pride,” she said with a soft chuckle. “You’re both acting like fools. You know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, patient and knowing. “I mean that sometimes, people say things they don’t mean because they’re scared of being hurt. The Hatter’s a complicated man, but he’s not so different from anyone else in that way. You need to go back and talk to him. Really talk to him. Otherwise, you’ll never know what could’ve been.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, resonating with the doubts and hopes that had been churning inside you since you left. She was right—you couldn’t leave things like this, with both of you hiding behind unspoken fears. You had to face it, face him, and figure out what you truly wanted.

Returning to Wonderland was like stepping back into a dream, one that you’d missed desperately in your time away. The colors were brighter, the sounds sharper, yet everything felt strangely muted by the tension in your chest. As you made your way back to the tea party clearing, you could feel your heart pounding harder with every step, a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

When you arrived, you found the Hatter sitting at his usual spot at the head of the long, cluttered table. He was hunched over, a hat perched lopsided on his head, his fingers busy stitching a ribbon that looked like it was fraying at the ends. His back was to you, but the moment he heard your footsteps crunching on the gravel, he stiffened ever so slightly.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” he said, his tone light and airy, but you could hear the strain in it—like a string pulled too tight. “Come to say a proper goodbye?”

You took a deep breath, stepping closer, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on your shoulders. “Yes, but I want to do it right. I don't want to leave with things unresolved between us."

The Hatter turned to face you slowly, his usual mad grin stretching across his face, but it was different this time. His eyes, usually bright and wild, were shadowed, clouded with something you couldn’t quite place. “Well then,” he said, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a broken sigh, “goodbye it is! Off you go, then! Don’t let the rabbit hole hit you on the way out!”

Without thinking, you reached out and pulled him into a hug. His body went rigid at first, as if he didn’t know how to react. You could feel his rapid breaths against your chest, hear the hitch in his throat as he struggled to keep up the façade. Then, slowly, he softened, his arms coming up to clutch at your back, holding you as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered, his voice cracking, caught somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Why are you making this so hard?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you,” you confessed, your voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t know how to stay when I feel like I don’t belong here.”

The Hatter pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You do belong. To me, you do.”

His words pierced through you, breaking down the last of your defenses. You thought you had made up your mind to leave, to return to the real world where everything made sense, where things followed rules. But in that moment, nothing made sense without him.

You stepped back, letting go of him even though it hurt. “Goodbye, Hatter.” you said softly, turning away. “I’ll miss you.”

As you started up the path that would take you back home, every step felt like dragging a weight behind you. You reached the midway point, the fork in the path where one route would lead you back to reality. You paused, your heart aching with each second that passed. You glanced back, your breath catching in your throat when you saw him still standing there, watching you leave with a look of pure devastation.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t leave him like this.

Turning on your heel, you sprinted back down the path, the wind whipping against your face as you ran. You didn’t stop until you were right in front of him again. His eyes widened in shock, his lips parting to ask something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, pouring all the emotion you’d been holding back into that kiss—your fear, your love, your need to stay.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he stared at you, his eyes wide and searching. “You…you came back?”

“I did,” you said, smiling through the tears in your eyes. “If you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he looked as if he didn’t believe you, his gaze darting over your face as if trying to find some hint of doubt or hesitation. But then his lips slowly curved into a smile—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. “Oh, yes. Yes, indeed! And we shall have tea every day, and perhaps cake, and perhaps something more delightful!”

You laughed, a lightness settling over you that you hadn’t felt in days. “Sounds like a plan.”