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lilstarkeydream · 16 days ago

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Hidden Flames- Chapter 3

Summary: Y/N, a Kook who prefers the company of her Pogue friends, falls for Rafe Cameron. Despite their growing feelings, they maintain a facade due to their conflicting social circles and personal insecurities. Y/N is best friends with Sarah, Rafe's sister, which fuels Rafe's hidden affection. He despises how Y/N hangs out with the Pogues, believing she has more potential, while Y/N can't stand Rafe's for fights and stuck up nature. After a dramatic confrontation, they confess their feelings but must keep their relationship secret, with only Sarah in the know.

Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, Angst, Smut (p in v), Adult language,

Authors note: Hey guys! Ugh I'm so sorry I made this like crazy long again and that it has been SO long betwen chapters. I've already sort of started working on Chapter 4 so hopefully I'll have it done soon. Anyways enjoy and feel free to message me if you have any requests xoxo.

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The warm sand felt soft against your feet, the gentle waves lapping at the shore. The sun was settling, casting a golden glow over everything. You were laughing, you don’t know what from, but Rafe was beside you, smiling, his eyes filled with softness. Rafe's arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close as he spun you in slow circles, laughter mingling with the sound of the ocean. He pulled you closed, gently kissing your lips and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You were dressed in white, almost like ghosts in a beautiful, ethereal world.

Rafe leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, “I want you forever Y/N. Even when I’m gone I’ll still be with you.”

Before you could respond, a loud powerful jarring sound shattered the peaceful scene. The scene faded away and turned black and you groaned and opened your eyes. You padded your bed around you searching for your phone trying to turn off your god-awful 7:30 am alarm. Early mornings are going to be the death of me, you thought.

You instinctively pulled your cover back over your head, dreading the day ahead. Dress shopping for midsummer’s… perfect. With only a week and a half to go, you already dreaded the thought of the superficial conversations that were bound to happen.

You try to hold onto the sweet memories of your dream but it is suddenly ruined when your mom yells down the hall.

“Y/N time to get up! We are already behind schedule, we are leaving in an hour for the boutique”

You groaned, slamming your face into the pillow and then pulling yourself up to start preparing for the day. You can already imagine your mom with her cup of coffee in her hand criticizing every dress you pull off the rack. Your parents were very particular when it came to a lot of things but the main thing was presentation; they hated it when you dressed in “pogue” attire. Hence why dress shopping is so important to your mom, it validates to her that there is still hope for you. You rolled your eyes at the thought of her voice in your head but smiled, knowing it was easier to just go along with her sometimes.

The boutique was glowing with varying colors, patterns, and dress types; it was overwhelming. From rack to rack, your mother picked out various dresses and styles for you, ushering you to the changing room to try on every single one.

You spent what felt like hours trying on dresses, in and out of the changing rooms, accumulating a small pile of maybes. Finally, as you were about to call it a day, your mom came over with a navy satin, backless dress with a bow detail.

“Now I'm not a fan of the backless back but I do think the bow in the back ties it all together,” she said as you slipped it on. But when you turned to the mirror, the fit was perfect. It was the one. Scenarios played in your head on how Rafe would react seeing you in this dress, so tight fitting and revealing, you know it would make him ogle.

“I agree Mom, this has to be it,” you said smiling running your hands down the dress.

Your mom was about to respond when you felt goosebumps begin to rise on the back of your neck like someone was watching you.

You quickly glanced around in the mirror at the surrounding store as your eyes locked with Chris’s.

Oh god, you got to be kidding me, you thought. Out of all places, this is where you see him? He must be with his mom and sister or something.

A twinge of nostalgia immediately began to coarse through you. You quickly looked away, pretending not to notice him, but of course, he noticed you—and began walking over, giving you his typical polite smile.

“Oh my gosh is that Christopher Phillips?!” Your mom whipped around, beaming with recognition. She practically jogged over to greet him, her eyes lighting up with that motherly approval. She quickly pulled him into a hug. “Christopher! How are you? Look at you, still as handsome as always!”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, your mom failed to acknowledge boundaries sometimes.

“Hello Mrs. Chastain, it is great to see you, you look fantastic!” he said as he pulled away, quickly glancing over at you as well.

“Oh please Christopher, call me Linda. You're still such a charmer. Anyway, Y/N is just trying on some dresses for Midsummer but I’ll let you old love birds catch up, I’ll just be right over there” She pointed to a random corner, and knowing her we would still be eye-shot. As I’ve said before… she is a huge fan of Chris.

As she eagerly waltzed away, Chris visibly got a bit nervous shoving his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat.

“Hey Y/N, uh, I wasn’t expecting to run into you, you look great,” he said gesturing to your dress, his voice carrying a hint of the awkwardness that hung over you guys even after the breakup.

“Yeah, Chris, good to see you too,” you said, keeping a neutral smile. The idea of catching up as old friends was tempting, but you could tell by his eyes that lingering feelings were still there, and you didn’t want to stir them up.

“So, are you going to Midsummer?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

“Yeah, I am. You?”

“Same,” he replied, nodding with a tight smile.

Silence settled between you. You were about to excuse yourself when he cleared his throat. “Are you… seeing anyone new?” he asked, his voice a bit too casual.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you forced a neutral expression. “Nope. You?” As you spoke, a flicker of guilt stirred. Rafe was still in the back of your mind, his presence lingering, tugging at the corners of your thoughts. The memory of his touch was enough to make you blush, but you couldn’t say any of that��not to Chris, and not to anyone else.

He hesitated, noticing your sudden change in demeanor, then shook his head. “Nope.” He looked away noticing your mom eagerly waiting with prying eyes, “Anyway, it was good to see you, take care. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah. See you around,” you said, relieved as he walked away.

God that was so awkward

You stepped out of the boutique with your mom, your newly purchased dress slung over one arm. The bright afternoon sun made you squint, and you took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air after what felt like hours spent in stuffy fitting rooms.

"Well," your mom said, eyeing you with satisfaction, "now that we’ve got that settled, we can get on to the important things, like accessorizing.” She gave a little smile, seeming more pleased with you than usual.

You smiled, barely listening as your mind drifted back to your encounter with Chris. Why here, of all places?

Just then, a familiar voice called out across the street. "Y/N! Hey, Y/N!"

You turned to see JJ striding over, his hands shoved casually in his pockets, but his expression lighting up when he saw you. As he reached you, his gaze darted between you and your mom, a flicker of mischief in his eyes as he took in your shopping bags.

“Oh,” your mom said, straightening, “this must be one of your…friends.” Her voice held that edge she always had when she saw you talking to Pogues. She gave him a quick, tight smile. "Well, Y/N, I'll just grab a coffee down the street. You two…catch up. I'll be waiting in the car." Her heels clicked against the pavement as she walked away, looking back just once before disappearing into the café.

Once she was gone, JJ grinned. “Nice to see I’m still charming the Kooks, as always.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed. “You have that effect.”

“So, what’s all this?” He pointed to the bags with a teasing smirk. “Getting ready for Midsummer? Gotta say, I never pictured you as the ‘princess of Kooklandia’ type.”

“Oh, very funny,” you said, nudging him. “Yes, it’s for Midsummers. My mom practically forced me to come out today.”

“Lucky me, running into you, then,” he said, shoving his hands back in his pockets and giving you an easy smile. “So, how’s it going? You look…like you’ve been through it.”

You shrugged, laughing a little, but your voice softened. “I actually just ran into Chris.”

JJ’s face fell, the teasing look replaced by concern. “Wait, Chris? Like…Chris Chris?”

“Yeah,” you replied, the awkwardness of it making you cringe all over again. “It was…strange. He was trying to be nice, but I don’t know. It just reminded me of how I’ve changed, you know?”

JJ nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as if weighing his words. “Y/N, listen. Be careful with those Kook guys—no offense, but they can be a lot. And Chris…he’s bound to have feelings still, so just, you know…keep an eye out.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the intensity of his reaction. “JJ, he’s harmless. We were just talking.”

“Yeah, maybe,” JJ muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I don’t know. You’ve seemed kinda distant lately. Like…you’re around, but not. Got me worried, is all.”

Just as you were about to respond, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You glanced down, your pulse picking up slightly as Rafe’s name flashed across the screen.

Been thinking about you. What are you up to? The message was simple but meant everything, and you couldn’t stop the faint smile that crept onto your face as you typed back a quick reply, your heart beating just a little faster.

JJ’s voice snapped you out of the moment. “Uh-oh,” he said, smirking as he watched your expression shift. “That look’s usually reserved for the extra-rich Kooks.”

You quickly pocketed your phone, fighting to keep your expression neutral. “What look?”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Y/N. I may not be a Kook, but I know you well enough to see when something’s got you all…happy like that.”

You let out a laugh, shrugging it off. “It’s nothing. Just someone I know.”

JJ gave you a curious look, his playful smirk softening as he studied you. “Well, whoever it is, I hope they’re good enough for you. Just don’t go getting lost in Kooklandia too long. Us Pogues kinda need you”

The genuine concern in his eyes made your heart twist slightly, and you nodded, touched by his words. “I won’t, JJ. Promise.”

A flash of relief crossed his face, and he returned your smile with a lopsided grin, nudging you playfully. “Alright, princess, get out of here before your mom thinks I’m corrupting you or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you said goodbye, his words lingering in your mind as you headed to the car.

During dress shopping earlier, your phone had buzzed with a text from Sarah, asking if you wanted to hang out. She went on about an argument she’d had with Topper, making it sound both dramatic and all too familiar. You’d texted back, agreeing to come over once shopping was done, already bracing yourself for whatever rant awaited you.

Your mom is currently driving to the Cameron's residence as she droned on about Midsummer's etiquette and the importance of making a good impression.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll pick you up in a few hours. We can get lunch and talk more about Midsummers,” she said as she unlocked the car. But her phone buzzed just as she opened the door. She glanced at it, frowning.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” She sighed, her voice turning business-like. “They need me at the hospital honey. I’m so sorry, would you be able to grab a ride home.”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t worry, Mom, I understand. I’ll ask Sarah if she can drive me,” you replied, secretly grateful for the change of plans. You’d had enough of Midsummer's talk to last a lifetime.

She gave you a sympathetic smile, and as you shut the passenger door, you watched her drive away, feeling relieved. But that feeling quickly gave way to nerves as you noticed Rafe’s truck parked in front of the house. Of course, he’d be here,you thought, trying to keep your pulse steady.

Once your mom was out of sight, you made your way up the Cameron's all-too-familiar staircase. You hadn’t been here since that night—when you’d drunkenly found yourself in Rafe’s room. The memories flickered back, and you thought you caught a faint hint of his cologne lingering in the air. You passed by his door, stealing a glance, but it was empty, the bed neatly made. Maybe he’s out with Topper or Kelce by the pool, you mused, trying to shake the thrill of knowing he was nearby.

Reaching Sarah’s room, you barely had time to knock before she flung open the door, grabbing your arm and pulling you onto the bed beside her. “Finally!” she exclaimed, tossing her phone onto the bed as she settled in next to you. “You have no idea how badly I needed to see you today.”

“Really?” you laughed, stretching out beside her. “What’s going on?”

“Ugh, where do I even start?” She let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back against her pillows. “The guys are outside right now, so I can’t be too loud, but Topper and I had the stupidest argument last night. He gets jealous of everything—it’s unreal. Sometimes I think he’s the insecure one, not me! He saw me talking with John B near the docks and now he’s convinced I’m sneaking around behind his back!”

Your eyebrows shot up. “John B?” That was news to you. John B and Sarah had never shown much interest in each other before—or at least, not that you’d noticed.

Sarah nodded, biting her lip with a mischievous smile. “Yeah, he and I talked a bit last week, and honestly, I kind of liked it. He’s so…different from Topper, you know? But I swear, I wasn’t doing anything sketchy. Topper just freaked out and, ugh, it’s such a mess.”

You couldn’t help but imagine how the Pogues would react if they knew about Sarah’s budding friendship with John B. It was complicated enough with your friendship with them, let alone…well, your situation with Rafe. The Pogues wouldn’t exactly be thrilled to know you were sneaking around with the one person they despised most.

“Wow,” you said, trying to sound casual. “I just can’t picture John B with a Kook like…well, like us, honestly.”

Sarah laughed, rolling her eyes. “I know, right? It’s complicated.”

“Speaking of complicated…” you began, realizing you hadn’t yet told her about the day’s chaos. “I ran into Chris today.”

Her eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face. “Chris? No way. How did that go?”

You gave her a tight smile. “Awkward, mostly. He was…polite, I guess, but I could tell there was something else. I don’t think he’s over it. He even asked if I was seeing anyone new.”

Sarah groaned, shaking her head. “Classic Chris. He’s just trying to find an excuse to come back into your life.”

“Maybe,” you admitted, “but I had to lie and say no. And that made it even worse because…”

You paused, hesitating. Sarah propped herself up on her elbow, eyes narrowing. “Because what?”

You took a deep breath, feeling your pulse quicken. “Because I snuck out with Rafe last night.”

Sarah’s eyes went wide, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Oh my god, what? Go on!”

“He came to my house, tapping on my window like a total maniac.” You laughed at the memory, but your voice softened as you remembered what had happened next. “We ended up going for ice cream and walking on the pier. He…he told me he wanted to try with me, you know? Like, actually give it a shot. And I said yes, Sarah. I told him I liked him.”

Sarah’s expression shifted, a mix of excitement and caution. “Wow…okay, so this is getting serious, huh?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, feeling a flutter of nervousness at her words. “It feels…different.”

Sarah sighed, looking at you with a gentle but wary smile. “I get it. Rafe can surprise you sometimes. But be careful, Y/N. He’s my brother, and I love him, but…he can be unpredictable.”

“I know,” you replied, grateful for her understanding. “But right now, I just…I don’t know. I feel happy.”

Just then, a familiar voice drifted through the open window from the backyard, and your stomach did a flip. Rafe’s unmistakable laugh mixed with Topper and Kelce’s voices, the sound sending a thrill through you.

Sarah noticed, smirking. “He’s right out there, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Ugh, I know. But we’re trying to keep things secret, remember?”

“Sure, sure,” she teased, winking.

You both laughed, and the conversation drifted to other things. But as you glanced out the window, you saw Rafe and the guys heading inside, his attention focused on his phone. Sarah’s voice faded into the background as you heard him walk through the house and up the stairs, heart thudding as you wondered if he might notice you.

Excusing yourself with a quick “I got to go to the bathroom,” you slipped out of Sarah’s room, making your way quietly down the hall. Just as you rounded the corner, you nearly collided with Rafe, who looked up in surprise, his lips curving into that familiar smirk.

“Whoa, well this is a surprise, what are you doing around here, pretty girl?” he murmured, voice low and teasing. “Sneaking into my house just to see me?”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “I’m best friends with your sister, dumbass. You’re the one who’s supposed to be downstairs with your friends.”

Rafe leaned casually against the wall, his hair still damp and tousled from the pool, water droplets catching on his tan skin, his arms toned and relaxed. He flashed you that familiar, mischievous grin. “Kelce and Topper just headed out, so I guess that leaves us. Think you can handle it?”

Your heart skipped a beat as he closed the space between you, the playful glint in his eyes making it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

You opened your mouth to answer, but his hand was already reaching for yours, pulling you into his room. The familiar thrill of being this close, in a place where you could be caught any second by Ward or Rose, made your pulse race.

“You know,” he murmured sitting on his bed pulling you between his legs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” You tried to keep your voice steady running your hand down his chest, even as your heart raced. “What about me?”

He chuckled softly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “Everything. The way you laugh, the way you look at me…” He paused, leaning in just enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. “The way you make it really hard to keep my hands off you.”

You swallowed, feeling the warmth spread through you. “Who said you have to?”

A slow grin spread across his face leaning in to capture a kiss, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the house, Sarah, the risks of being caught. It was just the two of you.

But then, footsteps echoed from the stairwell, and you both sprang apart, glancing nervously down the hall. Rafe gave you a quick wink, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Rose’s voice called down the hall, clear and firm. “Sarah! Rafe! Y/N! Dinner’s ready!”

Rafe pulled back, his lips just inches from yours, his playful expression turning to one of frustration. “Of course,” he muttered, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Before you could respond, Sarah’s footsteps sounded from the other side of the hall, followed by a quick knock on the bathroom door down the hall. “Hey Y/N dinner’s ready! Rafe, dinners ready. Come on, let’s go!”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, smirking as he glanced at you. Then, with his best impression of an annoyed brother, he called out, “I’ll be down in a few, Sarah!”

Satisfied, Sarah’s footsteps faded down the stairs, and in an instant, Rafe’s arms pulled you back toward him. His lips found yours again, the urgency even stronger now. The thrill of secrecy rushed through you as his fingers tangled in your hair, his touch somehow gentle and desperate at the same time.

“Alright, you really need to go now,” he whispered between kisses, his voice thick with reluctance.

“You don’t make it easy,” you murmured, smiling against his lips. Finally, you pulled back, running a hand through your hair as you gathered yourself, fixing your clothes.

Taking a deep breath, you slipped out of his room, glancing over your shoulder one last time to see him watching you with that signature smirk.

When you entered the dining room, the Cameron family was gathered around the table, and Rose flashed you a warm smile. Sarah was already seated, chatting with Wheezie, who was recounting some story with animated hand gestures. You slipped into the seat between Sarah and Rose, offering a polite smile to Ward as he nodded in greeting.

“Glad you could join us, Y/N,” Ward said, his tone warm. “We don’t get to see you around here often enough.”

“Thank you for having me, Mr. Cameron,” you replied, feeling a bit more at ease as Rafe entered the room and took the seat across from you. His expression was casual, but the glint of mischief in his eyes was unmistakable. As he sat down, his foot tapped against your thigh under the table, and your cheeks flushed.

Dinner began with light conversation, Rose asking about school, and Ward making polite inquiries about your family. The food was excellent, and for a while, you settled into the cozy atmosphere, almost able to ignore Rafe’s occasional gaze across the table and the flutter it stirred in you.

“So, Y/N,” Rose began, setting down her fork and smiling at you with that piercing, Kook-perfect smile. “I’m assuming you’ll be going to Midsummers? Did you end up finding a dress?”

“Oh, uh, yes! Just today, actually,” you replied, hoping to sound casual despite your racing heart.

She nodded approvingly. “Wonderful! Midsummers is such an important event, especially for making connections. Do you have a date lined up yet?”

The question caught you off guard, and you took a quick sip of water, trying to keep calm. “Not yet,” you replied, glancing down at your plate to avoid looking at Rafe.

“Oh, what about that young man you were seeing before?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “What was his name? Chris, right?

The mention of his name made both you and Sarah choke on your drinks at the same time. Sarah quickly recovered, covering her laughter with a cough, but your cheeks burned as you struggled to respond.

“Oh, uh, we’re…we’re not together anymore,” you managed, giving Rose a small, tight smile. You could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, though you didn’t dare look up.

Rose’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “Oh, I see. Well, no matter. I’m sure you’ll find a date—someone with a good head on his shoulders,” she added, her gaze lingering a bit too long on Rafe as if expecting him to say something.

Rafe cleared his throat, his expression unreadable as he casually picked at his food. “I’m sure Y/N will be the best-dressed one there,” he said smoothly, his tone calm but laced with a subtle edge. The mention of Chris hadn’t gone unnoticed, and a hint of jealousy flickered in his eyes.

The comment hung in the air for a moment before Ward chuckled, drawing the attention back to himself. “Well, I thinkit’s great that you’ll be attending, Y/N. Midsummers is a special event. It really brings out the best in everyone.”

“Yes, sir. My family is excited about it—it’s all my mom has been talking about,” you replied, chuckling as you offered Ward a polite smile, eager to steer the conversation away from your love life, especially with one of the culprits sitting directly across from you.

As the meal continued, Rose turned her attention to Sarah, her smile a little too fixed as she asked, “So, Sarah, I heard you were spotted down at the docks last week with…what’s his name? John B?”

The question dropped into the conversation like a stone, and Sarah froze, her fork hovering mid-air. You felt your pulse quicken as you glanced over at her, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

“Oh, that?” Sarah laughed, shrugging nonchalantly. “We just ran into each other. It was nothing.” She was doing her best to act casual, but you could tell Rose wasn’t convinced.

“Well, it just seems like…an unusual friendship, doesn’t it?” Rose remarked, her voice light, though her eyes were sharp and watchful.

“Considering his father’s…reputation.”

Sarah’s jaw tightened as she replied evenly, “John B’s not like that. He just…runs with a different group of people, that’s all.”

Ward set his glass down, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s true. John B’s worked well with us, especially on the boats. He’s shown some responsibility.” He paused, looking between you and Sarah. “But I’d hate for either of you to get caught up in their habits—like sneaking around and stretching the truth. It’s just not the kind of influence we want for you two.”

You exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with Sarah, sensing that Ward’s words held more weight than they seemed to on the surface. The underlying warning was clear.

Rose’s attention shifted to you, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. “And you, Y/N, seem to spend quite a bit of time with the Pogues, don’t you?” she asked, gesturing lightly. “How would you describe their…character?”

The question hung in the air, and you could feel the unspoken judgment. You hesitated, thinking about how to explain it without stirring more suspicion. “They’re…genuine,” you said slowly, choosing your words carefully. “They’re rough around the edges, maybe, but they’re loyal, and they don’t pretend to be something they’re not.” You looked down, aware of Ward and Rose’s scrutiny. “They’re just good people, in their own way.”

Rafe cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “Come on, Rose, it’s just a friendship,” he said, his tone casual yet carrying a hint of protectiveness as he glanced at you. “It’s not like either of them are running off with the Pogues and getting into trouble.”

Ward’s silence lingered, his frown subtle but clear. “It’s not the friendships themselves that concern me,” he said at last, eyes settling on Sarah and then you, “but the sneaking around and secrets. That’s what’s…disappointing.”

Just as the conversation drifted back to more mundane topics, Ward turned his attention to you. “Actually, Y/N, there’s something I wanted to ask you about. Your father’s company—he does business in real estate, right?”

Caught off guard, you nodded. “Uh, yes. He’s got some investments around the area.”

Ward nodded thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. “Interesting. I heard he’s been expanding into some new developments recently, some pretty big projects.”

You sensed there was more to his curiosity than casual interest, and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe’s gaze sharpened. What was Ward getting at?

“Yeah, I think he’s been working on a few,” you replied, keeping your tone light, though you felt a prickle of unease. Your dad had mentioned some big investments lately, but he was always cagey about the details.

Ward gave a satisfied nod, swirling his glass thoughtfully. “It’s good to hear. The market around here’s always shifting, and it’s smart to have eyes on it.”

“Exactly,” Rose chimed in, shooting Ward a supportive glance. “Families that know how to work with each other tend to do better in the long run, don’t they, Ward?”

You nodded politely, feeling Ward’s intent but still uncertain about the details. What exactly was he interested in?

“Tell him he should swing by sometime,” Ward added casually as if it were an afterthought. “We could go over some ideas, and talk business. Who knows, might be a win-win for both of us.”

“Oh, sure,” you said, keeping your tone neutral. “I’ll let him know.”

Ward nodded with a pleased smile, raising his glass in a small toast. “To partnerships,” he said, giving you a look that seemed almost fatherly.

You nodded politely, feeling Ward’s intent but still uncertain about the details. What exactly was he interested in?

Dinner was winding down as everyone began clearing dishes from the table and bringing them to the kitchen. Rose stood at the window, watching the heavy raindrops pelting down outside, her brows knitting together in mild concern.

“Oh, it’s really coming down out there,” she said, glancing back toward you. “Y/N, you have a way to get home, right?I’d hate for you to get caught in this.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond as Sarah chimed in. “I was going to take her, but I, uh…let Topper use my car earlier.” Her eyes flicked toward you and Rafe, her mouth twisting into a half-smile as if she could sense the tension brewing.

“Oh, that’s no problem,” Ward said, looking over at Rafe, who was lounging casually on the couch in the other room, scrolling through his phone. “Rafe, why don’t you take Y/N home? I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

The suggestion hung in the air for a moment. You and Rafe exchanged brief glances, each of you caught off guard, but Rafe recovered quickly, nodding with a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah, I can take her,” he replied, his tone nonchalant, though his gaze lingered on you a second longer than necessary.

Rose beamed slightly taken aback by his sudden willingness. “Wonderful! Thank you, Rafe.”

Excitement and nervousness coursed through you knowing you would get alone time with Rafe without anyone suspecting anything.

Your heart thumped as you ran upstairs to grab your bag and then you said goodbyes to the Camerons. Ward remindingyou again to talk to your father about the business deal and Rose just telling you to tell your mom hi.

Rafe grabbed his keys, and after a quick farewell to Rose and Ward, he led you outside, holding the door for you as you climbed into his truck, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place. The rain continued to pour down, droplets hitting the windshield in a steady rhythm that enveloped you both.

As Rafe pulled out of the driveway, silence filled the space between you, his fingers drummed on the steering wheel, and his jaw was clenched just enough to hint that something was bothering him.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft but edged with something deeper. “So…looks like you got stuck with me .”

You chuckled, glancing over at him. “Guess I am.”

He shot you a sidelong look, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Doesn’t seem like you mind too much.”

“Maybe I don’t,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, “maybe we can finish what we started earlier” your hand resting on the seat between you.

His gaze flicked down to your hand, and then back to the road, dodging your flirty comment. “Seems like Chris came up a lot tonight,” he muttered, his tone casual but carrying a distinct note of tension.

Oh gosh is this what was making him so bothered, you thought

You glanced at him, feeling your heart pick up pace. “Well, it was Rose who brought him up,” you said softly, sensing that this was more than a casual comment.

Rafe nodded, a small frown crossing his face as he kept his gaze on the road. After a moment, you hesitated but felt it better to be honest. “Actually…I ran into him earlier today. At the boutique.”

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his expression hardening. “You ran into him?”

You sighed and nodded, feeling the familiar tug of conflict. “It was nothing, Rafe. Just…awkward. He tried to make conversation, and he asked if I was seeing anyone. I told him I wasn’t because…well because we’re supposed to keep this between us.”

Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, his jaw flexing. “So…he thinks you’re single, then?”

You glanced at him, taken aback by the edge in his tone. “Rafe, it’s not like that.”

“But it sounds like it,” he shot back, his voice soft but insistent. “I don’t like the idea of him thinking he’s got a chance when he doesn’t.”

You looked away, raising your own voice caught off guard by his intensity. “Well, what do you want me to do? Tell him I’m secretly seeing someone who…hasn’t even asked me to be his girlfriend?”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you instantly regretted it, resituating yourself in your seat glancing out the window, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

Rafe’s eyes flickered with surprise, then softened as he pulled the truck over to the side of the road a block from your house, rain pattering loudly on the roof. He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “Do you…want that?”

Your breath caught, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze. The vulnerability in his eyes almost broke you, “Maybe I do,” you said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “But I’m not ready to put a label on it just yet, I like this sneaking around”

A smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Fine by me. But you’re still mine, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “And if I see Chris—or anyone—try to touch you, it won't go unnoticed” His jaw clenched, and he shook his head.

A shiver ran down your spine at the intensity in his voice, but a warmth spread through you at the same time. “Rafe, you know I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“Good,” he whispered, his hand moving to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek and your lip. “Because I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“You’ve wanted this for a long time Cameron?” a smile tugging on your lips, “I always knew you had a thing for me.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he muttered, his lips curving into a smile as he leaned in.

You felt everything fade away as he pressed his lips to yours, the rain still hammering down. You melted into him, your hands threading into his hair as he deepened the kiss, his grip on you tightening as if he couldn’t get enough. The intensity between you grew, each kiss more urgent than the last, and before you knew it, he was pulling you over onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

You could feel the heat radiating between you, your breaths mingling as he kissed you with a hunger that made your head spin. His hands traced along your back, drawing you closer, as he whispered, “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, his words making your heart pound as his fingers traced gentle patterns on your back and he began to kiss down your neck hitting your soft spot. “Rafe…” you moaned out.

“And if I see any guy even thinking about getting too close…” He trailed off, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, a possessive glint in his eye. “I’ll remind you exactly who you belong to.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and you captured his lips in another kiss, feeling the heat between you building.

“Rafe,” you breathed between kisses, “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Good,” he whispered, his voice rough as his hands explored you, pulling you closer. “Because I don’t think I could stop, even if I tried.”

He held you close, his lips moving from your mouth to your jaw, then along your neck, each touch igniting sparks across your skin. You felt as though you were lost in him, the way he looked at you as though you were the only person in the world.

“I can’t wait to see you in that Midsummers dress,” he murmured, his voice rough with anticipation, his hands lingering at your waist. “I can only imagine how good you’ll look.” he continues to whisper, “and how good it'll be when I take it off and fuck you.”

His words made you blush, a smile playing on your lips as you gazed at him. “You’ll just have to be patient.”

He grinned, capturing your mouth again in a kiss that was anything but patient, his hands roaming up your back, pulling you closer. Without thinking, your fingers drifted to the buttons on his shirt, fumbling slightly as you began to undo them, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your hands. He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening as you pushed the shirt off his shoulders, running your hands over the hard lines of his chest.

You pull away quickly, and Rafe can sense your reason for hesitation.

“Don’t worry, baby. It’s raining so hard, and my windows are too tinted,” he says confidently, immediately going back to attacking your neck.

Rafe’s hand slipped under your shirt, tugging it off with a swift motion, his fingers exploring the newly exposed skin with an intensity that left you breathless. His hands cupped your breasts, and you shivered at the sensation.

“God, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your collarbone as he pulled you flush against him. His mouth left a trail of fire along your skin, kisses becoming more insistent as he marked you with small bites—a silent declaration that you were his.

Your hands drifted down, fingers skimming over his toned chest before finding the waistband of his shorts. You felt his body tense under your touch, his breath hitching, eyes darkening with a fierce, barely restrained desire as he looked down at you.

“Careful,” he whispered, his voice low, almost a warning. But the challenge in his gaze made it impossible for you to hold back. You pressed

closer, letting him know you were just as ready for this as he was.

You locked eyes with him, a smirk playing on your lips as you took your time grinding your hips down, feeling his hardness beneath you. Rafe let out a low groan, his hands instinctively gripping your waist, urging you to move. His grip tightened, one hand sliding over your thigh and pulling you closer, making you roughen the kiss as his touch neared the edge of your skirt.

A shiver ran through you as Rafe’s hand inched along your inner thigh, each slow movement sparking anticipation. When his fingers brushed over your panties, you caught your breath, your heart pounding as he pulled the fabric to the side. His fingers found your warm, wet center, and he sighed against your mouth, his arousal pressing insistently against you.

A low moan escaped your lips as his fingers entered you, the roughness of his touch making you grip his seat for support. You’d craved this feeling, the way only Rafe could make you lose yourself, and every lingering memory of your first night together flooded back, more intense than ever.

You let your lips drift down to his neck, biting and sucking as you went, intent on leaving a visible reminder. Your body was moving on instinct, grinding against his hand as he picked up the pace, each thrust of his fingers igniting you further. When he angled his fingers just right, your body tensed, and a choked gasp escaped you, urging him on as he went deeper.

You rocked your hips against his hand, feeling the pressure building, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. The pleasure built steadily until you felt it crest, your entire body shuddering as you surrendered to the intensity of it. The truck windows fogged up, trapping the warmth between you as the rain pattered on the roof outside.

Rafe’s fingers slowed, coaxing the last waves of pleasure from you, and you moaned softly, holding tightly to his arm. Just when you were catching your breath, he slipped his fingers out, leaving you with an ache at the sudden emptiness.

With a sly smirk, Rafe reached down, pulling his boxers lower to reveal himself to you. The sight made you bite your lip, but he didn’t leave you much time to dwell on it; his hands tugged at your hips, guiding you over to your knees. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a condom and tore it open, sliding it on in one smooth motion.

Breathless with anticipation, you steadied yourself above him, slowly lowering your hips as Rafe guided you down. A gasp escaped both of you as he filled you completely, the world around you fading away as you moved together, lost entirely in each other.

As he entered you, a shared moan echoed between you, raw and unfiltered. “Holy shit, you’re so perfect,” Rafe breathed, his head falling back, his voice laced with awe.

He leaned forward, capturing your mouth with his, his breath mingling with yours as he deepened the kiss, sending a rush of pleasure straight through you.

You began to move, adjusting to his size. Each new rise and fall brought a wave of intensity that heightened your pleasure. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as you took him in fully, and you wondered if his fingers might leave marks.

Your own hands curled around his arms for support, gripping tighter each time he filled you, your bodies falling perfectly in sync.

As you grew more comfortable, your pace quickened, driven by the sheer pleasure that neither of you could hold back.

“Rafe…” you whispered, your voice trembling as you began to falter, feeling yourself edging closer. No one had ever made you feel this way before, and you could sense you wouldn’t last much longer, each movement pushing you closer to the brink of release.

“You just feel so good. You’re so perfect, princess,” he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck and onto your breasts. With each thrust, he guided your movements, pulling you down harder onto his lap, as if channeling the jealousy he’d felt over Chris into each motion.

Rafe’s arm tightened around your waist, drawing you in deeper, the pressure becoming almost unbearable in the most addictive way. The sound of your pleasure filled the small space, mingling with the sound of the rain pounding against the truck. You swore that if it weren’t raining so hard, anyone nearby would hear the sounds of your moans. Soft whimpers and moans spilled from your lips as Rafe continued, making you completely his. He groaned, his voice low and rough, as your moans nearly sent him over the edge.

You were lost in the rhythm of it all, overwhelmed by the sensations as you neared your peak once more. Rafe’s thrusts became more intense, and you felt the tightening of your walls around him, a telltale sign that you were on the brink.

“Rafe!” you gasped, feeling your climax wash over you in waves, pulling a deep moan from your throat. “I want you so bad,” you murmured,

“Come inside me, baby…” Your words seemed to ignite something in him, his eyes widening as he watched your body react, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close as he thrust deeper.

You could hardly breathe, your body trembling as the overwhelming pleasure intensified. It felt like you were floating, the world outside fading until only he remained—his touch, his heat, the way he made you feel. Rafe groaned, a low, desperate sound as he felt your walls tighten around him, his own release fast approaching.

With a final thrust, he buried himself deeper, his hips moving sloppily as his climax took over. His hands gripped your waist as he moaned against your skin, his lips finding your chest as he rode out the last waves of pleasure. For a moment, both of you remained still, panting as you caught your breath, hearts racing in unison. Rafe whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you caught your breath, Rafe fixing your hair.

“You okay pretty girl?” he asked leaning in to kiss you.

“More than okay, Rafe,” you say between kisses, smiling more and more. You swear you've never felt so happy.

You pull back slightly, and he does too, your eyes meeting in a moment of vulnerability. You can't quite put your finger on why kissing him feels so different—so much better— so right.

You kiss him once more, instantly melting into his warm touch. You want to stay in his arms forever until your moment is interrupted by the buzzing of a phone. You glance over and it's Rafe's phone on the dashboard, Dad.

Rafe answered the call, his voice shifting to a more serious tone. “Hey, Dad,” he said, leaning slightly away from you as he focused on the conversation. You watched as his expression darkened, his jaw tightening at whatever his father was saying.

“I told you I’d handle it,” Rafe snapped, frustration evident in his tone. You could see the tension building as he rubbed a hand over his face. “No, I’m fine. Just… give me a minute. Just dropped Y/N off. I drove extra slow since the rain was so bad.”

Your heart sank as you realized your time together was slipping away. Rafe looked back at you, his expression apologetic, but you could see the stress brewing in his eyes. “I have to go. I’ll call you later, Dad” he said, clearly trying to wrap up the conversation.

You sat back slightly, feeling the warmth of your earlier intimacy fade, trying to give him space while the weight of the moment lingered between you.

Rafe ended the call and exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that. My dad’s being… well, you know how he is. Just pissed off about some investment bullshit,” he said, frustration still etched on his face.

“It’s fine,” you replied, trying to sound more upbeat than you felt. “Family stuff comes first.”

“Yeah, but I was really enjoying… this,” he said, with a smirk on his face but his voice still lingering with regret.

“Me too,” you admitted.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and for a moment, everything felt perfect again. “Let’s go do something this week, okay? I’ll take you out on a real date.” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, promising more to come.

You nodded eagerly, giving him another soft kiss, cupping his cheeks as you savored the moment.

He helped you swiftly off him, both of you collecting your scattered clothing and attempting to put it back on correctly.

“I should get you home before your dad starts worrying,” Rafe said reluctantly, the reality of the situation settling over you both.

You nodded, feeling a mix of disappointment and understanding that this moment together was ending. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Rafe started up his truck, creeping closer to your house. He pulled over in front of your home and parked.

As you climbed out of the truck and into the pouring rain, Rafe came over to the other side and offered you his hoodie to protect you from the rain. You swiftly put it on, feeling its warmth envelop you.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, finding any reason to spend more time with you.

You didn’t really have a choice but to nod. “Yeah, that’d be great,” you replied, a flicker of anxiety rushed through you at the thought of getting caught but it out to be rainy and dark enough, no one could make out his figure.

As he walked you to your front door, you said a quick, discreet goodbye, not wanting to raise any flags or cause your dad to look out the window. You took one last glance at him, watching him walk back to his truck, his shoulders slightly hunched against the rain.

As you slipped inside, your heart raced as you stood in the hallway, the familiar sounds of your home bringing you back to reality as you tried to shake off the lingering adrenaline from your time with Rafe.

“Y/N?” your dad called from the living room, pulling you out of your thoughts. You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself as you approached.

“Hey, Dad,” you replied, forcing a casual tone. He was sitting on the couch, the TV flickering in the dim light.

“Where have you been? You got home a little late,” he said, looking up at you and the clock with a hint of concern.

“Oh, I was just with Sarah,” you said quickly. “Her brother drove me home since she didn’t have her car.” The words felt slippery, but you hoped they’d hold.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly gauging your sincerity. “Okay, just make sure you’re careful out there, especially with the rain coming down so hard.”

You nodded, relieved that he seemed to accept your explanation. “I will, Dad. I promise.”

He glanced at the hoodie now draped on your arm, his brow furrowing slightly. “That’s a nice hoodie. Is it new?”

“Yeah, I just borrowed it,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you fiddled with the fabric. “I got cold, so… you know how it is.”

Your dad nodded but remained silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Just remember honey, I worry about you, sometimes I don’t know if you’re out with those pogues or not. I’d rather you be safe than sorry.”

“Of course,” you said, forcing a smile to reassure him. “I’m always careful Dad, I promise.”

He smiled back, his worry easing a bit. “Good. Now go wash up and get some rest. You’ve had a long day. I love you”

“Okay, night Dad, love you too,” you said but right before you headed up the stairs you turned around, “Oh Dad, Ward Cameron wanted to meet with you about some business investment stuff”

He simply chuckled and said “Okay” before you continued heading up the stairs towards your bedroom.

Once back in your room, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in the pillow as a muffled scream escaped—equal parts frustration and exhilaration. The adrenaline started to fade and the memories of Rafe’s touch, his kisses, and that promise of a real date whirled through your mind, making it hard to catch your breath. Excitement buzzed through your veins, filling you with a warmth that felt as surreal as it was intoxicating.

None of tonight felt real.

You could still feel the comforting weight of his arms around you, and his hoodie was still curled up in your arms, smelling strongly of his cologne—a lingering reminder of everything that had happened.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. Reaching over, you saw a message from Kiara.

Hey, Y/N! The Pogues and I are hitting the beach tomorrow. The waves are supposed to be crazy good. Wanna come?

A grin crept across your face as you quickly typed a reply.

Oh, hell yes! That sounds perfect!

But as soon as you hit send, another notification flashed across your screen. This time, it was your manager, Lance.

Hey Y/N! I’m so sorry it’s late, but could you pick up a morning shift tomorrow? We’re short-staffed, and I could reallyuse your help!

Your heart sank as you rolled your eyes in frustration. Taking an early shift meant skipping the beach day you’d just agreed to. You hesitated, caught between the thought of spending time with the pogues or actually making some money.

With a reluctant sigh, you typed out a response to Lance,

Sure! What time?

Then, biting your lip, you shot a follow-up message to Kiara.

Shit, Ki, I’m so sorry! My manager just asked me to work tomorrow morning, so I’ll have to miss out. But maybe I can meet up later?

After a few seconds, you saw Kiara’s text bubble pop up.

Ugh, bummer. Don’t let those Kooks work you too hard! We’ll be at the Chateau if you wanna swing by later. I’ll even save you a drink. Plus, we have some stuff to catch you up on.

You tossed your phone on the bed with a sigh, the weight of the skipping out kind of making you upset but you’ve called off so many shifts these past few weeks. Plus you know there will be a party this week to make up for lost time. You kicked off your shoes and pulled the covers over you. Your body was utterly exhausted.

As you settled into bed, Butters, your cat, jumped up and curled himself beside you, purring contentedly. You ran your fingers through his soft fur, letting the rhythm of his purring lull you into a sense of calm.

"I hate skipping out on the Pogues," you muttered to Butters, who responded with a contented purr. "But, hey, at least I won’t be broke."

You sighed, snuggling into the covers and letting the warmth of your cat and the quiet of the room start to ease your mind. Just as you were starting to drift off, a new notification buzzed on your phone.

You picked it up, blinking at the screen in surprise.

Goodnight beautiful

A small smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the text. You couldn’t help the flutter in your chest, even though you knew you'd have to face the consequences of whatever you were getting yourself into with Rafe. For now, though, you let the words settle in and your exhaustion wins, letting sleep pull you under.

--——----------————- ❥・-------------------------

Taglist: @rafesno1bae, @drewsphswife, @maybankslover

177 notes · View notes

milswrites · 9 months ago

Text

Hobbies Part 6.

~Azriel X Reader ~

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Lil bit of fluff at the start and then nice and angsty

Y/N couldn’t sleep. She had tossed and turned for hours, trying to settle her swirling thoughts so she could rest but her attempt to sleep was fruitless. How could she sleep after having the most incredible night of her life? Azriel had blown away her expectations, doing more for her than anyone had ever done in her life. She didn’t even mind that he had rejected her invitation for him to come into her home. Azriel was a smart male, he most likely didn’t want to rush things and she most definitely did not want to scare him away.

But he had agreed to meeting again tomorrow and the thought of that alone was enough to flood her body with excitement. Hence her lack of ability to fall asleep. As she laid in her bed, she wondered if Azriel was in the same position as her. Wide awake in his bed reliving the perfect evening that the two had shared.

Ever since she had met Azriel it was obvious he was the most handsome male she had ever met. She never blamed him for his anger and pain that he took out on her, it was understandable after being dumped in an unfamiliar Court by those he called family.

Whilst she had no family of her own, having grown up an orphan in her Court, Y/N was sure she would react in the same way if she were in his shoes and so every time Azriel had snapped and shouted at her she reminded herself of this.

She wasn’t even meant to get as involved in this as she was. Yes Helion had asked her to keep an eye on him and make sure he was comfortable in the Court, but he hadn’t made her spend as much time with him as she ended up doing. No one could have predicted what had blossomed between the pair.

Deciding that she just wasn’t going to get any rest tonight, not with the memory of Azriel’s lips on hers still fresh in her mind, Y/N slipped from her bed and made her way to the room she had dedicated to sewing.

Sitting down with a contented sigh she held up the tunic she had been making for Azriel. A matching one to the cobalt blue dress she had made herself. She had begun making it after their talk while riding the horses, the blush at the thought of Azriel wearing something she had made stayed on her face the whole ride back to the city and refused to leave until she had arrived back at her home and decided to start working on something for him.

It wasn’t easy to produce, not with Y/N being unfamiliar with how to sew clothes for people with wings, but she had managed it (but not without many failed attempts). A few more hours tonight and it would be finished, leaving her able to present it to him tomorrow.

It took longer than expected, hands delicately sewing the silver thread into the intricate designs of the Illyrian tattoos she had spent hours studying the drawings of from books about Illyria in Helion’s library. The sun had long risen when Y/N finally finished the piece, a golden glow settled in the room, sparkling against the metallic sheen of the thread like stars twinkling in the night sky.

Now complete, Y/N lovingly wrapped the tunic in a black paper before securing the packing with a dark blue velvet bow, reminiscent of the Night Court colours Azriel always wore.

Not wanting to wait any longer before seeing the male, she bathed hurriedly and dressed once more in the now matching dress to the tunic she had made Azriel. Gathering the gift in one arm and the bag of painting supplies she had put together earlier for the days activity in the other hand.

~~~~~

Y/N rushed to Azriel’s flat, now very familiar with the route between their two residences having walked there plenty of times.

Once she reached the building he resides in, Y/N stopped outside for a moment to compose herself, butterflies dancing in her stomach. She allowed her uneven breathing from practically running here to return to normal, knowing Azriel would likely find away to tease her for her flustered state.

Once Y/N had waited long enough that she was sure there was no way Azriel could call her out on her desperation to see him, Y/N entered the building and made her way to his door, placing the bag of paints down and knocking to alert him of her presence.

Her attention goes to the crack at the bottom of the door where his mischievous shadows usually peak out in curiosity whenever she turns up here. There was no movement this time. However, it wasn’t uncommon for Azriel to take a while answering the door, Y/N could have sworn that one time she had knocked he had been out and crawled through his window upon his return before answering the door. Or at least that’s what she had inferred from the muffled bang that sounded from somewhere in the flat and the heavy panting he had been doing.

Y/N knocked once more in hope that he would hear it but there was no answer. Perhaps he had gone to the market. His cupboards were bare when she had been in the flat with him yesterday, having used some items for their baking. Deciding to wait for him to return Y/N sat down in the corridor, legs stretched out facing his door.

Unsure of how much time had passed since she sat on the ground, Y/N looked to find something to cure her growing boredom as she waited for the Illyrian to turn up and so she pulled out the paints and a canvas from her bag, electing to pass the time through painting until Azriel arrived.

It took a while for her to decide what to paint, having found she now had plenty of inspiration after the past few weeks she had spent with the shadow singer. Finally Y/N decided upon painting the view from the sky last night, a constant reminder of the promise made between the two of them. The promise to travel the world together.

Tongue between her teeth Y/N did her best to accurately represent what she saw last night. Her memory of the view slightly blurred as most of her focus had been on the male whose arms she had been wrapped in. The painting was a swirl of black and blue skies, spattered with glowing stars, the bottom depicting the illuminated city, Y/N trying her best to paint the intricate architecture of the day court buildings.

It wasn’t long before her painting was pretty much complete and yet there was still no sign of Azriel. Perhaps he was at the training ground? Packing up the paints, Y/N rested her artwork against his door to allow for it to dry before leaving the bag of supplies next to it, trusting that no one would take it.

Y/N grabbed the gift she had made from the floor and stood. She would surprise Azriel at the training ground. She would give him the gift there and chide him for being late and forgetting he had planned something with her.

Butterflies growing once more at the anticipation of seeing him, Y/N hurried to the grounds where she hoped Azriel would be. There was no frustration growing in Y/N at his absence from the flat, instead there was just the excitement of seeing him train. There’s something about seeing him in his element that she couldn’t help but be attracted to, and she would never pass on the opportunity to stare at his muscled figure as he worked. Especially not now she could appreciate it openly.

Arriving at the training grounds Y/N was disappointed by the fact that he wasn’t there. The only people training in the arena being some of Helion’s army that she vaguely recognised the faces of.

Disheartened Y/N turned to leave, wondering if she should check the gardens. It’s likely he could have gone there to clear up the mess of the picnic the two of them had forgotten to clear away last night, distracted by the intoxicating presence of each other.

As she began walking away from the grounds Y/N was stopped by the calling of her name. Hope growing in her chest she whipped around, eyes scanning for Azriel, only to be met with one of the soldiers, who had been training, jogging towards her. “Y/N right?” He asked as she attempted to put a smile on her face in greeting as she nodded at him, “Helion’s been looking for you! He wanted to meet.”

“Ah ok. Thank you!” She tried to sound appreciative but it came out more depressed than she had planned. Y/N supposed if she went and met with Helion then it may give Azriel time to return from wherever he was. Gift still in hand and now feeling exhaustion creep in from her lack of sleep and rushed trailing around, she made her way to the palace.

~~~~~

“Y/N you are looking as divine as always” Helion charmed as he kissed her hand upon entering his office. “Been doing some shopping?” He asked curiously, eyes locked on the gift being supported in her other arm.

“What? Oh yeah, just a bit of shopping because I haven’t been able to find Azriel today.” Y/N lied, not quite ready to share what was growing between her and Azriel with Helion yet. She was sure he’d be happy for her, having tried to set her up with numerous people over the years, yet Y/N was still anxious that whatever her and Azriel’s relationship was it didn’t fall under her workplace guidelines.

“And that’s exactly why you’re here!” Helion said as he took Y/N’s free hand and led her over to the sofa in his office where she placed the gift down next to her as she sat, confused as to why he would want to talk about Azriel with her. Maybe they hadn’t been as discrete as she thought.

“What about Azriel?” She asked as casually as she could, trying to hide her growing anxiety.

“Oh well he’s gone now so it’s time to reassign you. Get back to your other jobs now the time has freed up again, I thought you could start by going to the outer village and - …Y/N are you ok?” Helion trailed off noticing how her eyes had suddenly widened and her breath caught in her throat.

“What do you mean he’s gone?” She asked in disbelief, doing her best to dampen the betrayal she was feeling not wanting it to show on her face. She knew that one day he’d eventually have to return to the Night Court but she assumed he would have said goodbye. That they would have planned some form of communication between them and promised to visit each other.

“Rhysand sent a message this morning, said the shadow singer left last night…What’s wrong Y/N?” He tentatively asked, a comforting hand resting on her shoulder.

“I’m fine!” She said a little too quickly. Helion was her friend but the last thing she wanted was for him to be pressing her about this, especially when she felt as though she was about to burst into tears, “Just surprised he was gone that’s all…Now what was the job you needed doing?”

Helion didn’t buy it, Y/N could tell that much. She knew the man cared for her. He had always supported her and been a good friend whenever she needed someone, even helping her by giving her the job she has now. But if she had to look at his concerned face for another minute then she definitely would start sobbing. As if sensing this he continued with describing Y/N’s next task, every once in a while flicking his worried eyes to her watery ones.

Once this was done, Y/N was quick to jump onto her feet, grabbing the gift which now felt much heavier in her arms than it had when she walked into the room.

Helion took her in once more, eyes raking over her dress, realisation crossing his face before asking, “That’s a pretty dress Y/N, did you make that?”

It now hurt for her to even look at the item of clothing she wore, instead she let her eyes drift around the room, looking anywhere else than the clothing that reminded her painfully of the man who was now gone.

“Yes. Thought I’d pick up sewing again.” She replied bluntly, struggling to hold the tears at bay.

“It’s an unusual colour,” Helion pressed, “not like what you normally wear.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t suit me.” With that Y/N left his office finishing the conversation, afraid of what he was going to say next.

As she raced through the corridors, frantically searching for the nearest exit, Y/N couldn’t stop the tears that were now streaming down her face and fogging her vision. He was gone. Azriel had left without even saying goodbye.

He had returned to his home, the place he had so badly wanted to return to. Y/N couldn’t stop the horrible thoughts that flooded her brain and pierced her heart. Perhaps all she had ever been to Azriel was a distraction. Something to keep him busy until he could get back to his normal life. Maybe the kiss was born from his pity for the lonely Day Court girl who had forced her way into his life against his will.

She sobbed loudly, gripping the led-weight box in both her arms and drawing it tightly to her chest. Azriel was gone.

Part 7

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Notes: A little bit from Y/N’s perspective to rip your hearts out :(

Taglist:

@minnieoo @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001 @amara-moonlight @aunicornmademedoit @spideytingley @iamjimintrash @one-big-fangirl @tsunami-of-tears

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #sarah j maas #azriel imagine #a court of thorns and roses

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youaintnothinbuta · 7 months ago

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“What are you doing up, little lady?” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: you and dad!Elvis have a close call, your daughter almost coming downstairs on Christmas Eve to see her parents putting presents under the tree. More domestic elvis for you cos it’s just so healing

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x mom!reader

Word count: 661

Warnings: fluff! Dad!Elvis being all domestic <3 probs typos sorry I’m tireddd

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The house had been buzzing with excitement all day, lots of family and friends coming in and out, visits from carollers and elves and cooking baking and everything else that comes along with Christmas time. Your daughter was 5 now and so she definitely understood that all the fuss meant Father Christmas was finally going to visit that night, hence it was a task and a half trying to get her to sleep. By the time it got to midnight, you and Elvis were very certain she was well asleep. You got busy putting all the presents under the tree and doing any last minute wrapping, getting everything ready for the big day.

In the middle of tying a bow, you thought you heard something. Snapping your head up, you reached your hand to Elvis’ knee with a stern “shh,” holding your hand up to motion for him to be quiet. He froze, also listening intently. His eyes widened at the soft rustle of tiny feet padding across the landing at the top of the stairs.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Elvis sprung up, quickly headed up the stairs, scooping up your daughter who was just about to take her second step down.

“What are you doing up, little lady?” He asked gently, resting her on his hip as he moved her away from the stairs.

“I can’t sleep,” she confessed. “Has Santa come yet?”

Elvis reassured her, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead. “No, sweetheart, he won’t come until you’re fast asleep in bed.”

She huffed, worriedly.

“How about this. You wait up here, I’ll warm up some milk for you, and we can have daddy-daughter snuggles until you sleep again,” Elvis suggested.

She nodded, he put her down on the floor and watched as she wandered towards her bathroom, making sure she wasn’t about to follow him downstairs. After heating up some milk for her in record time, he handed her her bottle and carried her back to her bedroom.

With her bottle clasped tightly in one tiny hand, your daughter used the other to tug gently at one of Elvis’ fingers, leading him towards the oversized armchair nestled in the corner of her room. Taking the hint, Elvis settled into the chair, pulling her onto his lap and cradling her against his chest.

Elvis held her close, his arms forming a protective cocoon around her as she sucked contentedly on her bottle, her eyelids growing heavy with sleep.

In a gentle whisper, Elvis began to sing, the familiar lyrics of lullabies filling the room with warmth and comfort. He sang to her softly, with all the love in his heart, the melody of his voice wrapping around your daughter like a warm cuddle. For the next twenty minutes or so, he continued to lull her, until at last, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing signaled that she had drifted off to sleep once more.

Carefully and quietly, Elvis eased her limp form from his embrace, laying her down gently on her bed. He tucked the covers snugly around her, ensuring she was warm and secure before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

Descending the stairs once more, Elvis found you waiting expectantly, concern etched across your features. In the time it’d taken him to get y/d/n to sleep, you’d pretty much wrapped up (no pun intended) and cleaned everything up.

“She’s all settled now,” he said with a reassuring smile.

You let out a relieved sigh, leaning into his body for a cuddle. “Thank goodness,” you agreed, a small chuckle escaping your lips. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

Elvis chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “We would’ve made something up,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Now, let’s go to bed darlin’, we got an early morning,” he said, picking you up, reaching for the light switch, turning it off before carrying you upstairs, laying you gently down on your bed.

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kaylopolis · 1 month ago

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Afterword

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

Spoiler Warning: Please read this after the Epilogue

Dear Hoteliers,

Before we begin, there is one thing I’d like to address: why did I kill Alastor?

Alastor’s death, believe it or not, was not about Alastor.

While you were dying, your thoughts were not fixated on him, nor were they fixated on Mary Marie if you read that alternate ending. They were about the abuse you experienced as an Angel of God. After all, this story, the very first thing that brought you to the Hotel was revenge.

But this was not a story about revenge. That all changed in Chapter 14 “Picking a Fight,” when you and Alastor finally caved and gave in to your feelings for each other.

No longer was your Endgame plan clear cut. Things got complicated. Alastor had to accept you and the plan or it didn’t work. Why? Because, again, you thought your story was one of revenge.

Alastor’s death - the demon saving you, looking after you over the years he was “dead,” and the lengths you went to revive him - changed that narrative. Because now it was not about Alastor accepting you and the Endgame plan, but you realizing that your story could not go on without him.

Literally, hence the time jump.

I did this for your character development, closure of your character’s arc, and because it has been the theme from the beginning of this work: power born from love is a thousand times more powerful than that born from fear.

Hence, the power, chaos, and love modified mantra I ended with.

So, if love was the solution/closure you needed why were you so fixated on the abuse as you died? Why did you not find resolution in those final moments (hence the “your fault” present during this scene)? Why was there no healing from your triggering past during this fic?

I intentionally did not want that sub-plot to find an ending because that’s not how trauma works. It’s an ongoing process - a battle to fight everyday. We have our good days and our bad, and we do not let it dictate our lives, but it’s a battle nonetheless.

I’ve always taken issue with movies and books romanticizing trauma and a character becoming empowered from it, using it as willpower to take down kingdoms literally and metaphorically. Culture wraps up trauma in a nice pretty bow and sticks it on a shelf and calls it a day when, in reality, that’s not how healing works.

It is a battle. An ongoing battle many of us spend our entire lives fighting.

How fitting that Mikaela’s a soldier…

But I’m not here to rehash this subplot. I’ve said my peace for you all to synthesize on your own because I find writers have many hidden motives we don’t catch while reading, and, as a writer myself, it makes me incredibly sad when a reader misses it because the story is SO much better if you understand them.

That being said, I’m here to reflect. After all, it’s what an “Afterword” is for.

I’ve never written a fanfic before but I am a fantasy writer. I decided to use this piece to explore romance, smut, and to fantasize about Alastor because how can you not? Vivienne inadvertently dropped us a hottie who has taken the fandom by storm!

I started this piece off as an “eventual smut” piece. Trying to practice my writing in a way the great Alastor Fictive writers on here would be proud to read: @minkdelovely , @hazelfoureyes , @hurthermore , @krahk , @fraugwinska , @macabr3-barbi3 (seriously go read their stuff, it’s AMAZING). Yet, around Chapter 14 (I call it the “Golden Chapter” in my head because I consider it to be the climax of not only the fanfic but of my writing as a whole. I’m quite proud of that chapter and honestly spent a long time debating ending the story there, but so many things were still unfinished) I found that I didn’t particularly have a talent for writing smut, nor did I enjoy it in the same way I enjoy writing fantasy.

This entire project was a discovery and a challenge for myself, and I grew A LOT as a writer.

Looking back, if I had to do this again, I would change quite a bit after Chapter 14. Maybe I will in the future, but as of right now, I have school and another manuscript to complete.

That being said, I have fallen in love with Mikaela and plan on using her in the future for my own book. (I will obviously not use any of Vivienne’s stuff because copyright laws exist, but I just love the character’s personality.)

I’m not planning on writing more on Tumblr anytime soon, but the series will stay up for future readers to find and enjoy.

My only goal with this was to reach a few people and have one person - just one - say they liked my writing. :)

Thank you, Hoteliers. Without you, this project wouldn’t have happened.

To power, chaos, and love!

As always, stay smutty <3

kaylopolis

Btw looking for feedback, feel free to send me a message!

-> Link to Masterlist

Tagged Hoteliers:

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick @cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @sawi1987 @mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah @diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta @reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages @chibistar45 @rapunzelbro @stephydearestxo

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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 2023: October 13th

Day 13: Wrist/Arm Restraints, Triple Penetration, Pet Play

Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Restraints, safe words, mentions of BDSM, teasing

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s not like you’ve never used restraints before. You have. With partners that, looking back, maybe you shouldn’t have allowed them to restrain you. Before you had gotten smart with the ideas of more than just vanilla sex spiced up with a pair of fuzzy handcuffs to tie you to the bed.

Now, you watch Zach start to pre-knot the rope. His eyebrows pulled together in concentration while he wraps it around itself in some configuration that you don’t know if you can figure out with a step-by-step diagram.

It’s some knot he learned how to tie in the Marines. One that was supposed to be perfect for tying you up so you couldn’t get free, but if needed, Zach could have you out in just a moment. You had heard something about a sea knot, men’s department of the Navy or some such thing, but you hadn’t been paying attention.

Reminding yourself that you want this, you can’t decide if it’s hotter that he’s so focused on making sure the knot is perfect, or if it’s just that he’s always this hot.

He’s your super. For the building you had moved into nearly a year ago. From the first day you had met him, getting your keys, you had thought the man had been attractive. Even more so when he had gotten rid of a snake that had decided to climb up the face of the building and into your window one day. You had made sure to never take out your screens again, third floor or not.

Now you’re about to move in with him, your relationship growing and maturing. His apartment is slightly bigger than yours and it’s part of his pay to maintain the building. Something that he does with absolute pride. There was no sloppy maintenance or delayed fixing of anything in the building he was responsible for. Just like his job, he takes you very seriously. Hence, his concentration on the knot.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You want to double check, to make sure that you are pressuring him into something he doesn’t want. Even if he has jokingly tossed it out before. “Mess with me and I’ll tie you to the bed.” You don’t know if he had just been teasing you, or if he was relaying desires through humor that he could easily play off if you weren’t interested.

His head whips up and he frowns for a moment before his expression clears, turning to one of surprise. “Of course I do.” He insists. “I wouldn’t- if I wasn’t comfortable, I would let you know.”

For Zach, even that is monumental because of where he had only been a few short years before. Homeless and kind of hopeless, he had gotten a hand after slapping it away out of stubborn pride. Now, he was making sure he was talking to his therapist, and you, when he felt that pride start to get in his own way. It was something you were very proud of.

Holding up the rope, he smirks. “In any case, it’s ready.”

****

You like the rope he had chosen. It’s soft against your skin, even as the loop of it around your wrist tightens. Every time you struggle it tightens a bit more. Pulling against the headboard as he strips down in front of you.

It’s a crime, being unable to touch him and you start to regret ever suggesting this as your hands itch to run over his shoulders and down his stomach.

Zach is beautiful and he knows you think that, his grin wide and wicked as he winks at you. “Look at you, all tied up.” He whistles, unbuttoning his pants before kneeling on the bed. “I would say you’re my present all wrapped up, but you’ve only got a bow on. He jokes, sliding his hand up your calf.

“Zach….” you huff, biting your lip at the look in his eyes. When he looks like that, you know that he’s planning on making you think that the only name you remember tonight is his.

“What’s your safeword, baby?” He asks, hands sliding between your thighs and pushing them apart like he was parting the sea. “Want you to tell me.”

You aren’t getting extremely kinky tonight, the restraints are the only big thing that you can think of, but it’s just a part of Zach’s nature. He’s going to make sure you remember the plan before he dives in. Making you feel even better about the decision to cement your life with him and build a future together.

“Cherries.” You confirm, tugging your arms slightly and whimpering at the slight tug. You can’t get out, completely at his mercy and enjoying it. He can and will do whatever he wants as he keeps you restrained to the bed. The safeword there as your safety net, your security blanket although you know you won’t use it.

“Good girl.” You barely repress your moan and from the smirk on your boyfriend’s face, he knows what those words do to you.

Cocky smugness looks good on him. His boyish charm shining through and mixing with the dirtiness you have been delighted to discover. While he’s not Christian Grey, ready to dominate you and whip you, he’s got his own appeal that is even better than a fictional character in a shitty BDSM book series.

“Asshole.” You huff playfully, running your foot along his jean clad thigh, and blowing out a breath of anticipation. “Hurry up and touch me, baby.” You whine, pouting at him and grinning when he immediately moves his hands up your thighs, squeezing and moving his fingers higher.

“You want me to touch you?” He asks teasingly, his warm eyes turning rich and promising. Making your fingers itch to touch him and you hiss in annoyance when you can’t, making him giggle slightly at the first swipe of his fingers through your folds.

Your moan is the first of many to come tonight. Already cursing and praising the restraints that will keep you right where you want to be. Tied up to Zach’s bed.

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #zach wellison #zach wellison x f!reader #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison x you #zach wellison smut #zach wellison imagine #zach wellison fanfiction

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sixlane · 12 days ago

Note

hi baby,

yeah that’s right it’s me again, your secret admirer, finding any reason to take up space in your inbox. today i get to be here because it happens to be your birthday and so as i yearn for you to grace me with your presence in my own dms (yeah you hear that people of tumblr? (if you get to see this) she’s in MY dms) i wrote you a little birthday present. taking your hands in my own, gently spreading your fingers out, placing a tiny box wrapped in yellow paper tied up with a blue bow in the center of your palm, and guiding your other hand over to cover it. don’t open it until i’m gone. okay. here goes:

---

Regulus is bored.

Not a new feeling, but well, a predictable one.

Which is boring. Hence the whole being bored thing.

He’s never felt any sort of draw to sit and nurse a mediocre drink while watching people sing poorly and make fools of themselves on a dance floor. He doesn’t even typically want to be around people let alone in his opinion the worst kind: people who are in love.

He’s, by name, one of those people. But the reality of that love does not match up with the messy, dramatic reality tv special he’s being forced to witness against his will.

Sirius is in love. He sees it in his eyes. In the way he and Remus hold each other even with an entire room between them. They love each other.

Regulus was there. Thought he was. Still there technically speaking.

As he watches James scream and clap and spin his brother around in ridiculous circles, his brain knows he’s watching his partner, one of the people in love on the dance floor. His heart just doesn’t–

He’s bored. Regulus is bored.

He wants it to be an awful, horrible, gut wrenching thing. To know you held love for someone for so long and know they still hold that love for you. But really, Regulus just finds it particularly inconvenient.

Especially when he pulls his eyes away from the trainwreck on the dance floor to eye the stranger who just plopped himself rather loudly at the other end of his booth.

Regulus is immediately struck by his hair. It’s dark, wild. And there happens to be long, lanky fingers running through it. He’s staring at a glint of silver glide along soft locks when a throat clears and his eyes snap down to meet deep blue indigo pools.

“Is this seat taken?”

Regulus just looks back at him in response, quirking an eyebrow and letting his eyes shift around them to indicate the booth is very clearly empty.

“Right, okay then,” the stranger huffs a breath, then downs a glass of something Regulus is pretty sure has been sitting on the table resting between them for the past hour. “I’m assuming you’re family?”

He considers ignoring the question, he does, because why should this stranger get to goad him into a conversation at a wedding. The horror. But something about him–probably the fact Regulus finds him stupidly attractive and at least at the moment, doesn’t look like a person in love–makes him want to let it happen.

“Yes,” Regulus drawls.

He watches the man shift his eyes to look out across the dance floor. Then he gets a bit caught up in the sharp lines cutting his jaw, and the piercings littering his chin, lips, nose, eyebrow–

“You’re the brother, then?”

He feels caught again. Trapped, as he stares back into piercing blue storms, a swirling angry ocean captured in each of his irises.

“Yes.”

“Can’t really see the resemblance,” he says. And then he smiles. It’s a wicked, warped thing. Or maybe the warping is just what’s happening to every inch of Regulus’s skin.

“Who are you?” Regulus blurts, needing an anchor in reality and also unexpectedly incredibly curious about it.

He watches the way the man’s jaw clenches, but that stupid fucking grin still somehow widens across his face.

“A friend,” he says slowly. Regulus’ eyes flicker down to his lips before returning to his eyes. Calculating.

He doesn’t recognize him, but why would he? He doesn’t know anyone here. Aside from all the people who know him.

“A friend,” he repeats, scoffing a bit and pretending he has anything to stand on. “Whose?”

The man’s eyes widen slightly before returning to normal.

“Of the…family.”

“Oh of the family, sure,” Regulus can’t help the small uptick of his lips at the man’s attempt at composure. “As we’ve just established, I’m the family. I don’t know you.”

The man smirks and leans in to let his elbows rest on the table. His head falls slightly to the side as he gazes across at Regulus with a glint in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, holding out a hand between them. “I’m Barty.”

Regulus eyes his hand and intentionally pushes himself into the back of the booth.

“You’re crashing.”

Barty lets his hand fall, Regulus watches it sit flat on the table.

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re flailing,” he says, eyeing him up and down. “I could kick you out right now.”

Barty narrows his eyes at him and Regulus feels his gaze start to sear his skin.

“You won’t.”

Regulus takes a shaky breath. “You don’t know that.”

Barty smirks. It’s bordering on feral. Regulus is decidedly being normal about that.

“That’s my line.”

They stare at each other through the charged haze of their own creation and Regulus feels. He feels sparks prick at his burning skin. He feels the newness of this proximity fill his brain with possibility. He feels the anticipation of more.

They sit in the loud silence for a minute, ten, he doesn’t know. But Barty breaks it.

“What’s your name?”

Regulus considers lying. Or withholding. He doesn’t.

“Regulus.”

“That,” Barty says, eyes lighting up. “Is a weird fucking name.”

“Thank you,” Regulus smirks without missing a beat. “You know how the family is. Insane.”

Barty’s smirk grows. It’s toothy. “Of course I do.”

Regulus' eyes make their way back to the dance floor. He watches Sirius and James disappear into the photo booth and something in him, something just beneath the surface, gets him up and out of his seat.

His eyes catch on a small hallway off to the side of the dance floor, hidden, unless you’re an observant little shit unwillingly at a wedding who currently finds himself at what feels like the brink of escaping an impasse.

“Barty,” he nods his goodbye.

“Regulus,” the man purrs back, looking up at his standing form like a dog waiting to be given a treat.

Regulus walks away.

And Barty follows.

Regulus stands with his back up against the wall, deep enough so he can’t be seen from the dance floor. Barty lands just a few feet away from him, leaning his right shoulder into the wall with his back to the room, creating even more of a barrier with his tall lanky form.

He towers over him. And Regulus is pretending that fact isn’t making him feel heady–as if the man following him into a secluded hallway and blocking out an entire wedding full of people with his body isn’t also making him feel seconds away from dropping to his knees.

Barty lets another grin stretch across his face, freckles finding new homes, skin around his jaw tightening, oceans in his eyes shrinking ever so slightly.

Then, he opens his mouth and Regulus intrinsically knows that can’t be good.

“I’m engaged,” he breathes, interrupting Barty before a sound even leaves his mouth. “Or will be. Soon.”

He rips his eyes away from indigo blue and tries to shut off the part of his brain that keeps showing him the memory of finding the little black velvet box wrapped up in James’ sock drawer. He feels bile rise up up up his throat, and then he feels a hand wrap around his wrist.

Regulus snaps his head to the left to watch the man in front of him look down at the small meeting of skin on skin.

“My boyfriend,” he breathes. “Is two rooms over.”

At Regulus’ confused frown, he keeps going.

“You caught me, I’m crashing this wedding,” he scoffs through a small smirk sitting in the corner of his mouth. “But I am technically also a wedding guest. Just not to this one. I can pull out my invite if you don’t believe me.”

Regulus can’t help but roll his eyes and smirk back. “Literally what information would I have to give me reason to believe you?”

“What reasons do you have not to?” “Oh so you’re an asshole and you’re stupid. I’m building up a profile in my head.”

“Mm,” Barty drawls, leaning into him and rubbing circles into his wrist. The motion makes Regulus squirm but Barty just tightens his grip and pulls him closer. “What else do you want to know? To prove I’m trustworthy or whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Regulus chokes on his audacity.

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

Barty doesn’t even blink. Regulus tries not to pout at his inability to make this man react. “Oh?”

“I’m not a cheater.”

“Neither am I,” he rolls his eyes.

“Then what are you doing following me into a secluded hallway and giving my wrist a handjob?”

He laughs. It rings around Regulus’ head. He nearly checks over his shoulder to see if the entire room has stopped celebrating to listen to it too. But he can’t seem to peel his eyes away. Stuck.

“What are you doing leading me away from the rest of your family’s wedding, hm?”

Then Barty drops his wrist. Regulus, thankfully, catches his whine.

“No touching then.”

“Friends…” Regulus licks his lips, desperation seeping out of his pores. God he’s embarrassing himself. “Touch.”

“Friends?” Barty repeats. “I thought you didn’t know me.”

“We could change that. Get to know me a bit.”

“Ah,” Barty shakes his head, a small frown pinching his eyebrows together. “I think that’d make things worse.”

Regulus watches his face, watches the way some sort of pain floats up to the surface before being coated in olive freckle-ridden skin, drowned out with the tide in his bright eyes.

“Friends then,” he smiles and it's fake fake fake but Regulus thinks he’d rather like to lick it off all the same.

“Friends,” he breathes.

Several things lead to them finding themselves pressed up against each other in the shotty rented photo booth.

Barty’s fingers find their way back down Regulus’ wrist. They slide into his palm, warming his cold skin. The pads of his fingers trace every line, every curve. His grip is soft at first, and then it’s crushing. The firmness connects them together and Regulus can’t tell where he begins and ends. Two hands meeting each other for a first embrace in the shared in between and within moments becoming just one.

A handshake.

Regulus removes himself off the wall to stand toe to toe with the wild-haired man. He’s tall, so moving his arms forward means Regulus’ hands traverse the space just above his hip bones. They wind around to skirt at the bottom of Barty’s white dress shirt. He tugs at the fabric as he lets his hands travel up to rest on the planes of his back. He pushes himself forward the last few inches and they’re chest to chest. Regulus breathes and then Barty does. In and out. Together. Barty’s hands find their way around Regulus’s shoulders, holding him close and breathing him in. Regulus’ cheek rests against Barty’s chest and they breathe. And breathe, and melt. And breathe.

A hug.

Barty lets his hands wander, running up and down his back at first, pushing over his own dress shirt into his skin. Soothing. His fingers make their way up his spine and they don’t stop, moving to hold the back of his neck then finding their way up into his hair. Regulus doesn’t stop the punched breath that escapes him as he gives in to the feeling of Barty running his fingers through his hair. His nails scratch at his scalp lightly, moving back and forth across the back of his head. He pulls, so it burns in that delectable way that makes you know it’s on the verge of being wrong, being painful. But it hurts just enough that it feels good. That he craves more. Barty gives. And gives and gives and gives.

A massage.

Regulus gets his hands up under Barty’s shirt, fingers skating across the sliver of exposed skin at first before diving under and finding himself immediately addicted to the feel of skin on skin. He needs more. So he takes it. He pushes away from Barty slightly, looking up into hooded eyes, oceans hidden just beneath the cloak of fog. Eerie. And also beautiful. His fingers find the knot of Barty’s tie and they pull, removing the barrier to get to the top of Barty’s shirt. He holds eye contact as he unbuttons the top button. And the next. And the next, exposing the top of Barty’s chest. Before he can think about it, he’s placing his nose to the heavily tattooed skin and breathing. He takes in warm tones of amber through his nostrils and it’s not enough. It won’t ever be, but he opens his lips to take in more and it’s everywhere. Barty is everywhere. He breathes him in as he presses his lips into his skin, pretending it means nothing when it means everything.

An inhale.

Together, they slink along the walls of the venue, attempting to be inconspicuous but Barty’s hand has other plans and keeps playing with Regulus’ fingers. He bats him away several times, watching the dance floor, and they eventually shove their way into the small booth unnoticed.

It’s a small space. So it merits a level of closeness that neither of them speak to. They start side to side but Barty quickly adjusts them, pulling Regulus into his lap so his thighs rest on Barty’s right leg and his legs fall between Barty’s. Regulus wraps an arm around his shoulders and the man has the gaul to smirk at him. He’s still bright, even in the fluorescent light.

“For stability,” Regulus breathes.

Barty smirks and he can’t pull his eyes away.

“Oh baby,” he drawls. “I’m far from stable.”

Regulus laughs at that, ignoring the pit in his stomach at the term of endearment. It’s genuine.

“This isn’t cheating.”

“We’re not cheaters,” Barty scoffs and grabs a set of huge hot pink glasses, placing them precariously on the end of his nose. ”What do you think? Am I pulling these off? Be honest.”

“Not at all,” Regulus breathes, ripping his eyes away from the red mouth in front of him to grab a yellow feather boa and wrapping it around his neck. He leans back into Barty’s space, not that he ever left, and lets his fingers grip his chin to hold him still as he pushes the glasses up his nose. “Press the button.”

Barty breathes and swats his hand around, refusing to pull his eyes away from Regulus. They hear a bright ding indicating the photos are about to be taken but it changes nothing. They stay staring at each other as the first click of the camera goes off.

Barty shifts his legs and Regulus’ eyes grow slightly as he feels a hardness brush up against his thigh. Barty pushes in closer, bringing his forehead up against Regulus’.

The second click of the camera goes off.

Regulus leans into him, torn between watching his eyes devour him and looking at the way he slowly licks his lips. Regulus’ mouth drops open and he breathes on a small whine. Barty’s lips part and they both breathe. The air from Barty’s exhales landing straight in Regulus’ mouth and coming back out again with his own exhale.

The third click of the camera.

Regulus breathes and breathes and breathes, panting slightly into his mouth as fingers move back into his hair and pull. He gasps, his head falls back, and teeth graze his chin before moving down to mouth at his neck. Not kissing. Breathing. Open lips running along his skin. It’s intoxicating. It’s consuming. It’s exhilarating.

The fourth click of the camera.

A photo.

Barty leaves after that, taking his half of the photos with him back to his own wedding and his own people in love. There are no promises of more, no expectations of contact, no attempts to explain.

Regulus pockets the glossy paper in a pocket against his chest. He finds his booth, sits himself down, and goes back to watching people dance and make fools out of themselves and be in love.

He still isn’t one of them. Doesn’t think he ever will be.

But at least he’s not bored.

GOD i love a cheating fic (or a not cheating fic) this is so hot. the tension???? james just outside the booth??? the not kissing???? holy shit… and the talent here….. this is gorgeous. the way you so easily capture regulus’ apathy with the scene in front of him. like he knows he should be happy but he’s just not and he needs to feel something. and barty is something.

“Barty gives. And gives and gives and gives.” <- yeah. insane.

thank you for this absolute gift… whoever you are… <3

#everyone read this please #thank u thank u thank you #anons #<- feels so wrong to put this masterpiece under this tag

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motherofdragonflies · 2 years ago

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A Very Prompty Christmas Day 4: Shopping

A nightmare of oily black shadows and wide blue eyes drove Dean into the kitchen at 3am searching for something to either put him into a dreamless sleep or keep him awake until morning, he didn’t care which. He just didn’t want to relive that again tonight.

The coffee was cold, and not wanting to risk waking everyone by brewing a new pot, Dean searched the shelves until he found someone’s hidden stash of whiskey. Bottle in hand, and making a mental note to replace it during the next supply run, Dean turned to head back to his room when his eye fell on the advent calendar and he stopped. Another door was open: this time one of the Christmas wreaths hung across the roof. That was weird: Dean had assumed that whoever was the first up in the morning had been the one opening the doors, but as far as Dean knew everyone staying in the Bunker that night was still fast asleep.

Maybe someone had been up after midnight? Had seen the calendar and thought, fuck it, it’s the next day, and opened it before they went to bed?

That had to be it, Dean decided, and peered into the calendar warily. So far, the advent calendar hadn’t been treating him well: Dean was beginning to think he hadn’t been too far off when he’d told Sam it was cursed.

Although why Dean was the one being affected was a mystery, since he wasn’t the one opening the damn doors.

The door opened to reveal a stack of presents peeking out of the top of a large brown paper shopping bag. The topmost box was beautifully wrapped in brightly coloured paper with an elegantly tied bow. Whoever had made this calendar had an exquisite eye for detail, and despite himself, Dean was impressed.

“Shopping for presents, huh?” Dean said out loud, and then realisation hit him like a bullet. “Oh shit. Presents!”

----------------------------------------

They weren’t due another supply run until next week, but Dean mumbled something about needing personal items, Sam, and Sam immediately stopped asking questions, backing away with his hands raised in surrender. He did make Dean swear to answer his phone if Sam called, but otherwise he let Dean walk down to the garage and drive away alone.

As he turned onto US-24, Dean let his mind drift. He’d never gone shopping for Christmas presents before, not presents that ended up wrapped up in boxes and tied with bows, anyway. Shopping for Christmas presents, in his experience, tended to be a last-minute dash to the gas station, grabbing girlie magazines and toiletry items and handing them in the brown paper the attendant had put them in. The first—and last—time Dean remembered really putting effort into Christmas presents had been when he was twelve, and John had left them in Nebraska while he went off on a hunt. Dean had watched the days tick over, Christmas getting closer and closer and still John didn’t return. Dean had a little bit of money, but that was all he had to buy Sam food with until John got back and as much as Dean wanted to, he couldn’t blow any of it on buying Sam a Christmas present. So after Sam had fallen asleep, Dean had crept through the neighbourhood until he found a house with a gigantic tree in its living room, mountains of presents stacked underneath, and a lock on its back door that he could easily pick. His plan had backfired—how was Dean to have known that all presents were for girls?—but by then Sammy had learnt the truth about Dad and the monsters under the bed, and the spirit of Christmas had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Hence: skin mags and shaving cream.

He huffed a soft laugh at the memory of the first year that Castiel had been around during Christmas. Dean and Sam, accustomed to only having one another, had awkwardly offered to share their meagre spoils with him as he watched them exchange their gifts. From that year on, whenever Dean did his frantic run to the gas station on December 24th (or 25th, if he was being honest), he always picked up something for Cas, just in case. It was always something small, something Dean could easily dismiss, but something that he thought Cas would like. A postcard with a scenic print on the front. A tiny snow globe. One year he’d bought him the Malacetic Atlas and spent hours with him, pouring over all the entries, trying to guess the supernatural creature responsible for each of them.

Dean tried to remember what he’d bought for Cas last year, only to remember with a pang that he hadn’t even been there for Christmas: he’d been locked away in a perfect simulacrum of a bar while Michael rode him around town again. By the time Dean had returned, Christmas had been over, and celebrating had been the last thing on anybody’s mind.

Nobody got presents that year, Dean realised. Not even crappy ones from the Gas ‘n’ Sip.

Dean resolved to make it up to everyone this year, only to force down a wave of sadness and regret when he remembered that it would only be Sam: Jack was in Heaven, and Cas…

Fine. He’d make it up to Sam, Dean decided. Biggest and bestest Christmas present Sam had ever seen, to make up for thirty years of crappy ones. Decision made, he continued on his way to Salina.

---------------------------------------------

Shopping for presents was fucking hard.

Dean could tell you in a heartbeat what kind of gun Sam favoured, could rattle off Sam’s usual order at half a dozen fast food restaurants, and knew most of Sam’s preferred brands in everything from toothpaste to moisturizer. But somehow none of that knowledge translated into knowing what to be the perfect present for Sam. Dean didn’t know his favourite colour or his shirt size (Moose sized? Bigger than Dean, anyway), didn’t know what kind of books he liked to read outside of old books of obscure lore (and surprisingly, they didn’t carry those in Target) or what music he liked to listen to (other than Celine Dion, and no way was Dean going to be caught dead purchasing a Celine Dion CD).

Dean wandered up and down the crowded aisles of Target, feeling more and more out of his depth with every passing minute. The store was filled with hundreds of options, but every one of them felt impersonal, like Dean had given up and grabbed the first conveniently wrapped gift basket that he’d laid eyes on for the sake of buying something, regardless of whether Sam would enjoy macadamia nuts or gourmet balsamic vinegar or artisanal chocolate or not.

After an hour, Dean gave up and abandoned the basket that he’d been unenthusiastically adding random items to and headed out the double sliding doors. Porn mags and beef jerky were at least traditional at this point, Dean reasoned with himself. It might be cheap and crappy, but it would be cheap and crappy in a nostalgic way. He headed back to the Impala, noting with dismay how crowded the parking lot had become while he had been in the store: every spot was filled, and cars were circling slowly, like mechanical vultures waiting to swoop on the first empty space they came across. Dean spotted the Impala, wedged in between a mini-van and a pick-up, and reached into his pocket for his keys, wanting to get behind the wheel and get out of there as soon as possible.

“Oh no!”

The cry of alarm was the only warning Dean had. He spun around, just in time to see the trolley laden with brown shopping bags and brightly wrapped presents rattling straight towards him, crashing right into the Impala’s rear fender with a shuddering bang.

“Oh, fudge!”

Dean tore his eyes away from the horrific sight of the metal trolley, now listing sideways and scraping along Baby’s paintwork, to see a woman in a pair of jeans and a white down coat, blonde hair held off her face with a thick headband hurrying towards him, face full of apology.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I just let go for a second, I thought I’d put the brake on but—” She looked up at Dean and recoiled in fear, and Dean forced himself to take a calming breath, to push down the fury that was boiling his blood and curling his hands into fists, and try to smooth the hard lines that had terrified the woman from his face.

She grabbed the handle of the trolley full of presents and pulled it away from the Impala, holding on tightly.

“Did it do any damage?” she asked anxiously, peering over her trolley at the side of the Impala. “Of course, I’ll pay…”

The woman’s obvious offer to pay for any repairs necessary died on her lips as she took in the meticulously maintained classic car and no doubt realized how expensive the repairs could end up being.

Sending up a prayer to Jack in hopes that the kid was watching out for the car, Dean stepped forward and inspected the damage, running his hands over the side of the Impala’s rear fender. The trolley had only taken the paint off: it didn’t appear that there was any dent in the fender. Scratches, he could fix.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told the woman gruffly. “Just a scratch.”

“Oh thank goodness,” the woman said, laughing nervously. “I am so, so sorry, I really am—”

“It’s fine,” Dean told her curtly. He circled around the car and unlocked the door, sliding in behind the wheel.

“Merry Christmas!” he heard the woman called to him before forcing the heavy and unwieldy trolley around and back towards her own car.

Taking care to double and triple check his mirrors, Dean slowly reversed out of his space (narrowly missing a Honda who decided at the last minute to try and nab the newly vacated space and hadn’t anticipated the length of the Impala) and turned the car towards the Bunker, very definitely not thinking about how the bags and the presents in the run-away trolley had looked just like those in the advent calendar this morning.

Yep. The fucking thing was cursed.

It won’t be all doom and gloom, I promise! Come back tomorrow for Day Five: Ugly Sweaters

Day One: Advent Calendar Day Two: Tinsel Day Three: Ribbon

#spnxmasprompts #destiel #destiel fic #fix it fic #i will fix it i promise

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voiddrop · 2 years ago

Text

A Gift

Day 1 ‘Collaring’ of 30 Days Of Filth

Pairing: Mafia!AU Spencer x Fem!Reader

Tags: Mafia!AU, collaring, No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns used for Reader but use of the term ‘Pretty Girl’ hence the fem Reader tag. Nothing explicit.

Notes:

I started this because I wanted to A) Practice writing Smut and B) Practice writing for Spencer, and yet already I am a day late. Sorry about that, I’ve been really depressed lately, thankfully I don’t think my interest in this is dead. If ya’ll wanna see the prompt list I’m using feel free to ask. If Day 2 isn’t posted later today, I’ll post two works tomorrow.

Word Count: 660+

Gif from nervous-tic

Spencer was in his study when you got home, nothing new there. He had a habit of working even when he wasn't at the office, looking over case files and drinking copious amounts of coffee. You manoeuvred through your shared apartment, hanging up your jacket and bag as you went. The door to his office was open when you arrived, letting you lean against the dark oak door as you looked in at him.

He was still dressed in his suit, missing his black suit jacket but still wearing the matching trousers and tie. He had a dark red waistcoat on over a black button-down. He looked... absolutely delicious, and seeing him like that, paired with his focused look, stubble, and glasses perched on the edge of his nose... it was very hard not to pounce on him immediately.

You knocked on the door, watching as Spencer's head immediately shot up and he smiled at you. “Hello, pretty girl,” He greeted, shoulders relaxing as soon as his eyes settled on you, “come here, I have something for you.” That got your attention. You perked up immediately, cocking your head to the side as your lips settled into an amused smile.

“A present? Why?” You asked, stepping into the room regardless of your questions.

“I can't buy you gifts now?” Spencer huffed as he unlocked a drawer in his desk. He pulled it open with one hand, the other reaching for you when you were close enough. You followed his lead, letting him bring you into his lap as he pulled out a small box from the drawer. Spencer set the gift box on his desk and closed the manila folder he had been skimming through, pushing it aside. “Go on, open it,” He urged, eyes focused on you.

He cocked his head to the side as he watched you, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as you carefully picked up the gift box. It matched Spencer's colour scheme for the day, a red box with a black ribbon tied in an extravagant bow. You slowly untied the ribbon, melting into Spencer's side as you did. You set it aside, and then carefully lifted the lid to peer at what was nestled on the red cushion inside.

It was a black dollar. Thick, high-quality leather, held together with crimson thread, gold buckles and a golden circular tag that had ‘Pretty Girl’ etched into it. It looked hand-made but more than that it looked expensive, no real surprise with that latter observation because Spencer's taste had always been luxurious. “Spence...” You whispered in soft awe, plucking the collar from the box. “This is beautiful...”

“I said I wanted to get you a collar,” Spencer said, lifting his hand to caress your cheek, “can I put it on you?” He asked lowly, looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and nodded slowly. “Please.” Spencer smiled, gently plucking the collar from your hand. You sat patiently as he wrapped it around your throat, then fastened it, leaving the tag dangling at the column of your throat.

“There,” Spencer murmured, tracing the edge of the collar, “now, everybody will know that you're mine.” His hands moved to settle on your hips, pulling you closer. “I have a meeting at the club later, I know you have another shift there tonight, so I want you to wear your collar then,” Spencer instructed you, “the men we're meeting have a history of...”

“Hitting on the staff?” You filled in, lifting a hand to fiddle with Spencer's tie.

“Yes. I want you to wear your collar so they know you belong to me. But right now, I want you to wear it... so I can watch that tag bounce while you ride me in my office chair.” Spencer smirked up at you, eyes dark and hungry.

“Sounds good to me, Dr. Spencer Reid,” You whispered, leaning down to connect your lips to his.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #x reader #Reader is female #Female reader #x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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floraltypes · 3 years ago

Text

OHSHC Meeting The Parents

Who - ohshc hosts x reader

Type - fluff !

Summary - the hosts meeting your parents

AN - my requests are open so request something!

unedited :/

Tamaki

You had told Tamaki that your mother was dying to meet him

The woman wouldn’t stop asking you questions regarding him after you dropped a hint you were dating someone

So, one day she threatened to lower your allowance if you wouldn’t invite him over

Hence, why you are running around with trying to finish up your hair and the maid trying to help is stressing herself since you won’t sit down

When the doorbell was rung the butler quickly opened it and your mother and you both rushed down the stairs to try and get there first

Tamaki looked nervous in the beginning but his eyes lit up once they landed on your figure

“Y/n!” He called out, jumping a bit

Tamaki was very much dressed for the occasion, no surprise, and cleaned up well

You mother put a hand on her heart while Tamaki squished you into his arms

“So adorable, my little y/n,” Your mother cooed

“Uh, Tamaki, I can’t breathe,” He let you go quickly, put kept his arms on your shoulders

He soon realized that your mother was there and quickly turned around bowing a few times and apologizing for not greeting her sooner

“No worries dear, why don’t we go to the dining room to begin eating. Y/n’s father will be later due to work,” Your mother told him

The three of you sat at the larger table, Tamaki sitting right besides you

Your mother asked him many questions and he happily answered, staring at you most of the time and your mother could just tell how much he was in love

She thought he was so cute on how he kept asking you questions throughout dinner to involve you in the conversation like ‘what is your favorite class?’ ‘Y/n, you like that game too, as well, correct?’ ‘Y/n sure is very intelligent!’

Your father ended up being very late and didn’t eat with you three

You and Tamaki decided to go to a one of your extra rooms where there was a large TV and couch

You both sat down besides each other and watched something on the television, Tamaki holding your hand

At one point, Tamaki was trying to reach over you to reach a drink on the table besides you, but it ended up being farther than he thought and he feel ontop of you

He looked up from your legs with a awkward, yet cute, smile

At that exact moment the doors swung open and your father walked in

“I apologize for being late, your mother said the boy was in he- why are you laying inappropriately on top of my child?”

“Uh, i-, no, never!”

Let’s say your father didn’t think the highest of Tamaki like your mother did…

Kyoya

You were both working on some homework one day when you brought up the idea

“Do you think it’s about time to meet my parents?”

“Should I?” He asked back

To be honest, Kyoya knew he was a respectable man and knew how to behave, but still had some nerves

You also didn’t want to exactly have to sit through a long dinner with your boring parents who only knew how to talk about business deals and money, but it would be something your family would eventually ask you

When it came time, you were meeting Kyoya and his parents at a restaurant with your own

When the two of you viewed each-other your eyes lit up a little

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Kyoya’s father greeted, bowing in front of your parents who soon exchanged the gesture

You greeted Kyoya’s father, your second time seeing Kyoya’s parents again after the dinner you had with them not too long ago

“Y/n,” Kyoya pulled out the chair for you, which you soon sat down on and he sat right beside you, your other side being taken by your mother

“Kyoya, you’re the youngest, correct?” Your father quickly asked, sending a glare

“I am the youngest son, yes,”

“Ah, so you should know what competition is like,”

“I do,”

“Good because they’re many men competing for my daughters hand in marriage,” He laughed, soon turning his attention back to your mother who was chatting with Kyoya’s parents

He mumbled something to himself and grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his

You rubbed small patterns with your pointer finger as a quiet way to reassure him, sending a small smile which seemed to lighten his mood highly

He knew that with you competition seemed worth it, something he was willing to put up with as long as having a chance with you is the prize

When the two of your guys’s families were getting to depart, Kyoya turned to your father before leaving

“I know competition, and I’m very successful in all types of it, I will win the competition for your daughters hand, I just hope you will be able to accept the victor,”

Hikaru

Telling Hikaru that your mother found it important for her to meet him seemed ridiculous to him

Both of your parents weren’t apart of the relationship, so what should it matter what they think of the other

You loved him and he loved you, he didn’t need anyone else to say otherwise

“Come on Hikaru! My mother will continue to bother me until you finally agree,”

“Only if you promise me something,” He quickly told you, snickering secretly at his brilliant plan

“Anything, I’m so tired of her complaining,”

“A kiss,”

You quickly moved your lips to hover in front of his and connected into a sweet and short kiss

His cheeks brightened to a vibrant pink and he scowled turning his head away

“Not now,” He mumbled.

A week later he was outside your door with a cocky smile and a bouquet in hand, (advice from Kaoru)

“Hello, Mr and Miss L/n,” He bowed, handing the bouquet to your mother

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you son,” Your father put a hand on his shoulder

“Son?” Hikaru asked silently, looking at you with confusion

“My father always wanted a boy,” You tell him, laughing a little

“You look nice Miss L/n,” Hikaru complimented your mother, already

“Oh Y/n, he is so kind!”

Though at first, Hikaru thought meeting your parents was ridiculous, now he’s laughing with them at some joke your father made and being invited over next week for another dinner

Kaoru

He’s another person who isn’t so confident about the idea

You both were snuggling on his bed, his arms wrapped around your waist and head lying on your chest while you combed through his hair

“My grandma wants to meet you,”

“She does?” He looked up with a spectacle look

“She isn’t bad, much more open to things considered her age,”

“It makes sense why she would want to meet me, so I guess,” He sighed, then taking in the comfort from the position he was in.

“I don’t want to make a bad impression,”

“You won’t! She just wants to treat you to one of her iconic desserts,”

The both of you slowly got up from your spots and got ready to go to your grandmas that evening

When she opened the door, she gave you a tight hug and then soon threw her arms around Hikaru, squeezing him tightly

“Y/n says you love chocolate, I made some treats so she can show you to the dining room,”

He ended up losing all his nerves after taking a bite of the cake

“It’s amazing!”

“I’m so glad you like it. You’re such a sweet young boy, take some more,”

He felt really comforted by your grandmother and comes back next week after she sends him a letter inviting him

When you came home after a shopping trip with your friends, and saw your boyfriend chatting with your grandmother in the kitchen you were very confused

“Hikaru, I didn’t know you were coming over. Did I forget to tell you I was seeing my friend today?”

“You did,” He walked over you you and gave you a hug and small kiss on the cheek

“Then, uh, why are you here?”

“Your grandmother invited me!” Soon your grandma walked in with three cups of tea

“Oh thanks grandma, did you here me come in?” You went to take the other cup before someone came in behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“She wanted to meet Kaoru’s twin,”

Mori

The both of you were in the library doing some reading

You had recently been describing this book to him that you fell in love with and he wanted to read it for himself

You just wanted to read in general

It was a quiet time, but the both of you sat near each other and your head was lying on his shoulder

You had totally forgotten that your dad was begging to meet this man

“My dad wants to meet you,” You voiced, looking up at him while he just nodded, eyes still on the page

“Which one is that?”

“Dad is the really energetic one, papa is the really smart one,” You told him, the poor boy still having trouble with the names for your two fathers

“Ah,” He hummed, moving a hand to rest on your thigh

“Great, I’ll tell them you will be over this weekend!”

“Mhm,” He rubbed a small circle on your clothed thigh and the two of you kept reading, basking in each other’s presence

When the day came Mori wasn’t exactly nervous, but he wasn’t excited

He had brought a treat that his mother wanted him to bring over

“Mori, is it?” Your papa questioned, while your dad quickly took the treat.

Your boyfriend nodded his head, and scavenged through his pocket for a little box

He handed it to you, and you tilted you head, letting a small smile take over the features on your face

“ARE YOU PROPOSING TO MY BABY ALREADY?!” Your dad asked, jumping and trying to rush to grab the box from your hands, getting pulled back by your papa

“No, it’s a present, calm down hun,” He said with his stern voice, though your dad could easily tell her was just trying to be considerate of you and Mori

“Thank you,” You looked up at Mori and pecked him on the lips

“DID MY BABY JUST KISS HIM?!” Your dad yelled once again.

“You kissed me after our first date, remember?” Your papa reminded the man

“Mori, please come in, take a seat, eat, smile, talk, dance, sing, whatever you please,” Your dad pushed him into the living room and your papa followed

You soon pulled the two aside, sending a look to them

“Don’t be rude to him, I already told you that he doesn’t speak much and that’s his choice that we need to respect,”

You soon felt arms on your shoulder and looked back to see your boyfriends figure towering over yours

“It’s okay Y/n. I’m willing to answer questions to help soothe your parents worries and to show my love for you,” He smiled down at you and placed a kiss to the top of your head

That was when your papa and dad knew that this man was truly a good one

Honey

“Y/n-chan! I want to meet your mom!” Honey told you one day while the two of you were waiting for Usa-chan to get cleaned at the cleaners

“How come?”

“I want to meet the person who helped make you so kind!” He exclaimed, gripping your hand tightly while the two of you walked through town

“Sure, if you really want to,” You shrugged. “My mom is a big cake fan so I think the two of you would get along,”

“Yeah!!!” Honey cheered and the two of you continued your walk with grins on your face

A couple of weeks later your mom was finally home after her stressful business trip and was excited to meet the boy you had been dating

“Mother, this is Mitsukuni,” You introduced her to the childish blonde who was holding on tightly to his stuff animal

“You can call me Honey! It’s so great to meet you! Y/n-chan told me you like cake, so I brought some!” Your mother put on a fake smile and showed him to a area to place it

She soon put on her shoes and coat and the three of you took the limousine to a restaurant nearby

“So, you’re a third year?” Your mother asked once the three of you were seated at a table

“Mhm! Along with my cousin Takashi, he is one of Y/n-chan’s friend as well,”

“He’s the tall one right, I thought he was your boyfriend, someone you could depend on,”

“Mother,” You mumbled, loud enough for her to hear, hoping she would behave kindly to Honey despite the boy not acting like a normal third year

“Y/n can depend on me! I promise! I’m very dependable,” Honey placed his stuff animal on the ground and sat up straight

“You are,” You looked over at him, agreeing with your boyfriend.

The rest of the dinner was a little awkward and when Honey asked to order cake your mother shot him down, it took a lot for the boy to try and hold on his tears

He thought for sure that he would get along greatly with your mother

“Well, aren’t you a cutie?” A man walked up to you, walking alongside you with Honey on your other side holding your hand, your mother was a bit ahead on a phone call

“Um, can you please leave me alone, I’m not interested,”

“Oh come on now doll, don’t act so uninterested, don’t lie, I know you are,” He was about to place a hand on your shoulder before he was on the ground and Honey was holding him in the position

“Y/n! Y/n! I’m so sorry,” Your mom rushed to you and quickly hung up the call looking at the man on the sidewalk and pulling you into her arms.

“I’m fine mother, he didn’t touch me. Mitsukuni got him for me,” You reassured her, pointing to your boyfriend who was watching the man run away

“Oh Honey! I’m so sorry for how I behaved, you really are a good boy,” She pulled him into her arms. “Why don’t the three of us go get some cake to celebrate!”

Haruhi

It was something your father found important

You and Haruhi had been chatting for awhile and your father had overheard you on the phone many times

The poor single father couldn’t figure if your giggles were friendly ones or ones someone would have when talking to a crush

Though he was intelligent when it came to taking care of the colleges he owned, he knew nothing about girls and their crushes

So, he had to ask his secretary for advice, which he did often since he was raising a girl on his own

The advice he received was to just… ask you?

“Y/n, sweetheart, who are you chatting to?”

“Haruhi, Fujioka Haruhi,” You told him, then getting back onto the phone

He rushed to his phone and asked his secretary to found out some more

When he received the information, he rushed to you again, a bit confused it was a commoner, but open to the idea

“I want to meet this Fujioka, and their parent,”

You told Haruhi and she understood, thinking it made sense that your father would want to meet her, especially since Haruhi liked you a lot and was thinking of ways to ask you out soon!

“I’m Hiro, a pleasure to meet you….?” He looked at Haruhi’s father with confusion.

“Ranka, sorry, I’m coming back from my job,” He apologized, whipping the scarf around his neck a little tighter. “You must be Y/n, Haruhi talks about you often! You’re so adorable!”

“Thank you!” You smiled, then grabbing Haruhi’s hand and dragging her into your larger home

Haruhi was very nervous to meet your father, she didn’t want to say anything and tend to just try and stay glued to your side

“Haruhi, you chat with Y/n often, um, that’s good,” Your father was nervous as well, he didn’t want to make the assumption that you two were dating and risk embarrassing you, something he unfortunately did often

“Yeah, Y/n is nice,” She nodded, and you continued to drag her up to your room, showing her trinkets and books

Ranka and your father went to your garden to chat and have some tea

“You have such a lovely home,” Ranka complimented. “Where is Y/n’s mother, at work?”

“She actually isn’t with us,” Your father coughed. “She passed away after having Y/n,”

“I’m so sorry, Haruhi’s mother hasn’t been with us for a while as well,”

Something in common!!?!

They soon started to talk about the difficulties on raising children on there own, and found each other to be much kinder when the nervous aspect disappeared

(they end up calling each other often when they need more advice with their kids, they become good friends!)

“Haruhi is always talking about Y/n, it’s so cute! My little girl is in love..!!”

“Love?!?!” Your father choked on his tea

“Why yes, it’s so painfully obvious that Haruhi doesn’t even realize it herself! I bet it is the same with Y/n, I hear the way she chats and her giggles through the phone,”

“Y/n is in love?!?!”

“Yeah! I think Haruhi is going to ask them out soon!”

“Ask Y/n out?!?!” Your father was about to pass out on the spot

But, Ranka helped him breathe and she revealed just how great of a daughter Haruhi was that your father didn’t seem too scared

Though he didn’t chat with Haruhi too much because the both of you were too busy chatting with each other, he felt she was a good person

“Well, Haruhi, fine young woman, treat my child well, you are well, um, yes,” Your father nodded and Haruhi did the same

The two won’t go and see a movie together, but they’ll be able to get rid of some nerves soon enough and hold some nice conversations together

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crab-instruments · 2 years ago

Text

Of Rats and Men Part 8

Master <Part 7 Part 9>

Pairing: Silco x Female Reader

Rating/Warning: teen, violence, major character death, angst, killing

Summary: You are a traveling medic, journeying between Piltover and Zaun. One night, you stumble upon a man and take him in. His presence causes havoc on your practice. Set between Act I & Act II.

Beta Reader: @unfocusedfish

For: @imalovernotahater

a/n: Posting 8 and 9 together. Buckle up, I am very anxious that you'll hate me for this (hence ch 9 is also posted)

Some music for your consideration:

Everybody Wants to Rule the World (Cover) - Lorde

Holding Out for a Hero (Cover) - Nothing But Thieves

You could only watch as Silco threw objects around his office in an enraged hysteria. Paperwork, books, pens, anything throwable, but nothing that had his daughter’s touch. He sent some of his best men, Sevika included, to bring Jinx back. Only Sevika returned, badly beaten up and overpowered. She didn’t say much, eyes staring off in the distance as you patched her up.

Flint’s message was a mere appetizer to the real threat. That came with Jinx’s gun, half a blue braid, and a ransom note. The note itself was delivered like any other parcel, dropped off unceremoniously on Silco’s desk with the rest of his mail. It was when it was opened that the giant light pink bow tied around a too perfectly wrapped powder blue present that Silco knew something was off. The note was handwritten and neat, staged like a gift rather than the threat it was. Topaz wanted their name attached to the cruel act, craved to be known as the one challenging the King of Zaun.

The note stated that in order to get Jinx back, it would require Silco relinquishing his empire to the chem baron. Any move he made to undermine the demand from then on would result in his beloved daughter’s death. Topaz would arrive for Silco’s answer in two days, wanting a coronation as soon as possible. The allotted time was for Silco to simmer in his own anger and pity, not able to see clearly when it came to Jinx. A day and a half flew by and dragged on, the seconds slipping through your fingers.

In the few sparing moments you had been in the presence of Topaz, nothing gave away the real anger they must have felt about what Jinx had done to their shimmer supply. It may have to do with what Jinx overheard, not wanting the information to get out. It must have been more than a power play to walk into Silco’s office to accept the deal they had refused initially. Were they assessing the damage done, finding out if Jinx spilled the dirty secret? Or was Topaz more unhinged than you previously thought? Silco had more enemies than allies, sure, but this felt deeply personal. How long had they been planning this scheme? Topaz was clever and daring, that you knew. But this? Extraordinary. A brilliant move. Silco was incapacitated.

Since learning of Jinx’s disappearance, his whole operation has come to a halt: shipments froze, money no longer circulating, unrest in The Lanes. Piltover would soon notice the atmosphere and you didn’t want to think about what City of Progress would do in this situation. Silco was driving himself to the edge and it took everyone to stop that from happening. You expected nothing less; Silco would do anything for his daughter. He would self-destruct to save her.

The Last Drop had been hauntingly empty, people moved like ghosts through the building. It wasn’t closed but the atmosphere was tense and suffocating. The barkeeps stocked and restocked, cleaned the place more than it ever had been. Rumors spread from the staff about the state of affairs, worried that this was the end of Silco’s reign. Whispers of if they should stay or go. You did feel there was less muscle around, but you never knew how many the Kingpin employed. The one constant was his second-in-command.

Sevika wasn’t a patient woman, tolerance already spread thin from failing to save Jinx. She attempted to reason with Silco in the beginning but realized it was a fool’s errand. The man was unreachable. You never thought much of your relationship with the fighter, she was Silco’s most trusted confidant so you respected and thought highly of her. Sevika was a hard read, you never understood where you stood with her. So, it was surprising when she came to you in your practice, alone.

“Sevika,” you unconsciously made yourself presentable, “are your injuries bothering you? I can—”

“I need you to talk to him.” Her voice was hoarse and her expression tired.

“To Silco? I’m not sure what I could do.”

“He listens to you, more than he listens to reason.” There was a hint of bitterness in her voice.

You furrowed your brows at the comment, unsure how to take it. “What does that mean?”

Sevika sighed, frustration clear on her face. “I’ve dedicated my life to Silco for many years, doing what he’s asked for the better of Zaun. Following whatever orders I was given, making sacrifices along the way, not questioning why. It was me!” She raised her voice but quickly controlled her outburst, voice low when she continued. “It was me who was loyal to Silco, loyal to my purpose. Loyalty to the end.” A beat passed. Sevika stared at you, through you, and slowly started to walk towards you. “But you show up, shove your way into his life, bat your eyelashes, and suddenly he hangs on your every word. You, the helpless little saint from the shiny city.”

She was so close to you, you could feel the resentment radiate off of her, the puffs of breath as she spoke her harsh words. “Where do your loyalties lie, Doc? To Silco or to yourself? To Zaun or to Piltover? Do you even know what loyalty is?” Sevika let the words hang in the air, still so close to your face. The only sound you could hear was your heart beat and you wondered if Sevika could hear it too. Her face twisted with something, disgust maybe, before huffing and backing away, leaving.

“You’re right to question where I stand, I would too.” Sevika stopped but only looked over her shoulder at you, not giving you her full attention. “I’ll try and talk to him, but trust me when I say I will do everything I can to fix this. I believe in Silco as much as you do.”

Sevika continued to glare at you for a few seconds more before responding. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When there was a moment of calm, you approached the distressed crime lord, hoping to get through to him. He sat at his desk, hair disheveled and clothes unkempt, face in his hands. He looked ragged and the lack of sleep showed on his face. You stood next to him but didn’t touch him, worried he would fall to pieces.

“Silco, please. You need to get some rest. You’re not able to make rational decisions like this,” you begged.

Silco weakly batted you away, not able to fight. “You don’t understand, Medic, she’s my daughter.”

“Letting your whole operation fall to pieces is exactly what Topaz wants. They’ll be here within the hour. Silco—”

“You don’t understand what she means to me!” He slammed both hands on his desk, ending the conversation. You took a couple of steps back, watching him closely. Silco wouldn’t lay a hand on you willingly, but this was a man close to his limit. He apologized by dropping his shoulders, hiding his face in his hands.

It was pure torture to watch Silco break like this. Your own heart was torn in half at the thought of Jinx captured and alone, and there was nothing you could do about it. Topaz, whether consciously or not, was also attacking you with this move. The worse the situation got, the more your hatred grew for them. You weren’t one for violence but it was becoming an appealing option. When Topaz got here, you weren’t sure if you could control yourself.

Involuntarily, you clenched your hands into tight fists, knuckles going white. Where do your loyalties lie, Doc? To Silco or to yourself? To Zaun or to Piltover? Do you even know what loyalty is?

The silence in the office was deafening as you let Sevika’s words echo in your head. Your feet carried you to the door but stilled once your hand was on the handle. “You’re not the only one who cares for her,” the words were barely above a whisper, spoken to the door rather than to Silco. Frustrated, you left Silco’s office and made your way to your practice. You did small tasks to keep your mind and body busy, knowing the turmoil you would fall into if you stopped moving.

Opening a cabinet, you froze in place, looking over the contents. It was the cabinet you kept vials of drugs and serums in, mostly what you had brought over from Piltover. Many of them could not be found in Zaun, expensive and dangerous if dispensed incorrectly. The fading black print on each label stuck out in your mind. You grabbed a bottle and examined it in your hands, a terrible idea coming to the surface.

You didn’t have power like Silco, brawn like Sevika, or skill like Jinx. But that didn’t make you useless. No, you were unpredictable. You could weaponize your innocence.

Topaz had made you an offer before, would that still be on the table or was that a move to hurt Silco? If you switched sides, could you get to and save Jinx? It wouldn’t be as easy as walking away, there was no possibility where Topaz would believe you’re defecting to abandon a sinking ship. You would have to prove yourself to the chem baron. Prove your loyalty.

You frantically searched the cabinet, looking for an answer. The vials clinked, blurring together until you found the one with a worn label, warnings sun-bleached from time: potassium chloride. If injected, it would cause a cardiac arrest. You took it out along with a few others, pulling the liquids into syringes, and prepared a bag to take with you. If questioned, you would say that these were hard to come by, which wasn’t necessarily a lie. You tucked away a few surgical knives on your body, in case the lie wasn’t bought. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the bomb Jinx gave you. Hesitating for only a moment, you placed it in the bag along with the other items.

Downstairs, the doors burst open, no music playing to drown out the footfalls of Topaz and their men. Time was running out. Hastily, you left your room to cut them off before they got to Silco’s office. You had to compose yourself before confronting them, like you weren’t freaking out, like you weren’t someone with a mission. There was no time to think of how bad your plan was, the damage it could possibly do, that it could fail, or how it was going to tear your insides apart.

You walked right in front of the group and the chem baron stopped, unfazed. The entourage followed their leader but looked prepared to remove you if necessary. “Topaz.” The name felt like poison in your mouth.

“Ahh, Medic. I’m afraid to say you don’t look good,” with a gentle hand, they grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into their eyes. “Is something bothering you?” Due to the lack of sleep, you could barely hold yourself back from going feral, their tone dripping with arrogance.

Showing nothing, you ignored their comment. You had to keep to the mission. Jinx needed you. “Your offer. I’ve reconsidered, if it’s still available.”

They sneered, pleased by your words. “Oh, it still is, but the timing is… undesirable. I’ll need something from you to convince me this isn’t a stunt, a perfectly wrapped façade.” Topaz loved the position of power they were in.

You swallowed, throat dry at the thought of what you had planned. The air felt thicker, it was harder to breathe. “I figured as much. And I’m willing to prove my loyalty.”

“Oh? Something in mind?”

“Yes, I’m sure it will persuade you.”

Topaz smirked, brown eyes glinting with glee. “So confident. That’s the Medic I was hoping for. Come, I’m very excited to see what you have up your sleeve.”

You fell in line with the chem baron, sticking behind a few brutes. Defecting was the plan but that didn’t mean you were proud about it. One man broke the door to the office, the rest spilling in. It took a few men to hold Sevika back but she was soon overpowered, succumbing to her injuries. You hung back, making yourself invisible. Images of Jinx’s smiling face grounded you, reminding you of the goal. Reminding you why you were about to do the unthinkable.

For the time being, Silco was allowed to sit at his throne. The King of a dying empire.

“Silco. You’ve seen better days.”

The man looked deranged, hostile, and at the end of the line. “Fuck you.”

“As usual, so eloquent with your words. Is that your answer?”

“I will never surrender to you. Give me my daughter back and I might let you live long enough to go back to dumpster diving for scraps like the rat you are.”

Just as you had suspected, Silco wasn’t going to roll over. You planned on his stubbornness, basing your whole mission around it. The only sound you could hear after that was your own heart beat. Counting your breaths, your feet carried you forward, toward the man you loved. How tragic that it came to this.

Silco’s eyes went wide, watching your approach. Confusion crossed his face but the emotion that hurt the most was fear. It cut through you and it took every last ounce of courage to not turn and run away, to not let the tears fall that threatened to in the corner of your eyes. Your blood ran cold with dread.

The pain you were in must have shown on your face. Silco sounded concerned when he spoke, even when everything was against him. Sevika was right. “Medic… What are you—”

You placed a gentle hand on the non-scarred side of his face, effectively cutting off his words. Silco was frozen by your touch. Carefully, you moved his head to the side, placing a kiss on his scared cheek. Without warning, you gripped his chin and shoved Silco’s head the rest of the way, exposing the external jugular vein in his neck. With your other hand, you brought a syringe full of liquid next to his throat. The needle easily went into the vein, the contents emptying smoothly.

Silco grunted, attempting to fight you, but it was too late. You whispered an apology into his hair as you held his head close to your chest, his body going limp.

As a surgeon, you were no stranger to death. People die all the time. They died on your operating table, died because of complications, because the damage was too much, because the person gave up on living. Death was a part of you as much as life was. Zaun was a deadly battleground, barely having a chance at anything other than hard fought survival. Someone could end another’s life on a whim, never thinking about it again.

Watching the life leave Silco’s eyes was never something you could mentally prepare for.

A few tears escaped, falling down your face onto Silco’s. The rest of his body slowly showed signs of shutting down, until there was nothing left but his body. With your left hand, you closed his eyelid, the other was a mere flicker of the fire it once held. You blinked away the rest of the tears in your eyes and pushed him carefully to lean back in the chair before feeling for a pulse.

Nothing.

“Was that enough?” You couldn’t make eye contact, not yet.

Sevika yelled at you, a slurry of insults and colorful language. You didn’t blame her, you would do the same if you watched someone kill Silco. Especially after she confided in you about her loyalty.

Topaz responded with a slow clap. “Impressive! Even more spectacular than I had imagined. Quite a show! He’s dead?” You glared at them but nodded. They looked towards a grunt, motioning for him to check. When the man approached you, you showed him how to check the pulse before taking a few steps back. He confirmed with a silent head nod and that appeased Topaz. “Absolutely wonderful. Almost started crying myself, the performance, so heart wrenching. It makes this next part harder.”

“What—”

Before you could finish your question, pain splintered through your head and the world around you faded into darkness.

Part 9

Notes:

Imagining yourself a hero?

Medical/medicine: I did talk to my paramedic friend about how to go about the unethical medical science, but obviously, this is Hollywood baby so understand shit happens. The move Medic does to inject Silco is one of the faster ways to see effects from what you inject.

#of rats and men #crab fics #silco x reader #silco x you #silco x oc #arcane silco #lol silco #silco imagine

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tom-whore-dleston · 4 years ago

Text

Present or Punishment

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY!!), DOM/SUB, DADDY KINK, DEGRADATION KINK, PRAISE KINK, ORAL SEX (F RECEIVING), VAGINAL SEX, BONDAGE, SEX TOYS, OVERSTIMULATION, CUM PLAY

Summary: Even though it is your birthday, Tom punishes you for prying about the birthday present he got you. But is this a punishment or a reward?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

A/N: Thank you @thicccsimp for beta reading and providing the lovely feedback! I appreciate you <3 I finally got around to writing the anon's request, sorry for taking so long but I hope you all enjoy :)

It was the night of your birthday yet you were the one tied up. You were eager to know what Tom got you for your birthday. In fact maybe a little too eager, hence why your wrists were bound tightly to the bedpost with his tie . Tom peered down at you while you struggled to free yourself from his makeshift bond, he chuckled once you finally gave up.

“You knew this would happen if you kept prying about the surprise I had for you, dear,” he tsked while walking towards the side of the bed he sleeps on. “I know it’s your birthday but that doesn’t excuse you from any punishments.” Tom paused in his steps as he reached the nightstand. After a few seconds of you waiting for his next move, he opened the drawer where your present was hidden.

Tom pulls out a box decorated in a patterned gift paper and a bow at the top. He displays it directly in front of your face.

“Open it.”

“W-what? How do you expect me-”

“With that pretty mouth, of course.” Tom’s laugh darkened as your eyes grew in shock. “You had no problem running it all day asking me about your present, which, may I add, was meant to be a surprise. So, let’s put it to better use , yeah?”

You nodded submissively as Tom pushed the gift closer to your mouth. Your teeth grasped onto the loose end of the bow and yanked it so it unraveled from the box. You peered up at Tom and he shook his head in dissatisfaction.

“Keep going, darling. You’re so close to getting what you want. Why stop now?”

You sighed and teared at the wrapping paper like a dog. This was the most degrading thing you've ever done but you were secretly enjoying every second of it. You could tell Tom was relishing it too when he smirked down at you.

“Such a good girl. I love how you would do anything for me,” Tom praised, his British accent thickening with lust. As you ripped away at the wrapping paper with your teeth, you spread your legs to expose your wet panties under your dress. Once the box was completely shed of the decorations, you first noticed a photo of a vibrator on the front. Your pussy clenched once you realized that it was the exact vibrator you have been eyeing for a while. Tom glanced in between your legs and smirked seductively.

“Happy birthday, my princess!” he hummed softly, bending down to kiss your temple. This was the first gentle gesture he made towards you since he tied you to the bed. You smiled under his loving touch which was replaced with his lustful demeanor once he pulled away from you.

“Oh, princess, did you forget you were being punished?” Tom teased. “Sorry, darling, I can’t let you slide this time.” He easily opened the box and pulled out the vibrator to turn it on. The loud vibrations echoed in the room causing you to breath heavily. You clenched your fists as Tom swiftly pulled your panties off your legs. He spanked your inner thigh to spread them further apart.

“Daddy, I’m sorry I was bad,” you lightly whimpered, anticipating the touch of the vibrator.

“I know you are, but now’s not the time for apologies. For your punishment, I will leave the vibrator on you, but you are not allowed to come for 22 minutes. Am I understood?”

“Yes Daddy,” you gulped.

“Don’t worry, darling. Those 22 minutes will fly by so fast. If it makes you feel better, Daddy will keep track of the time while you take your punishment.” Tom rested the vibrator on your glistening pussy and tied it to your leg with the ribbon from the box. You began moaning once Tom left your side to set up the timer. You shut your eyes and focused on your breathing in hopes it prevented you from cumming too early. After what seemed like ages, you opened your eyes and saw Tom staring down at his phone.

“15 more minutes, princess,” he muttered without looking up from his phone. You released a breath of frustration and heard his dark chuckles fill the air along with the vibrator against your sopping pussy. You lost track of how many times you had to bite back your moans to stop yourself from cumming. Your nails dug into the skin until they left reddish purple indentations in your palms. Your dress clung to your skin from building up a sweat the past 12 minutes.

“Just 10 more minutes, princess, you’re doing so well,” Tom cooed as he stroked the back of his hand up your leg.

“Fuck, don’t do that! You’re gonna make me cum!” You shivered and cried out, arching your back. You pouted your bottom lip at him and he spanked your thigh again. You cursed at the sting, feeling a tear trickle down your cheek.

“You’re so hot like this, baby. You’re making my cock throb so fucking hard. I should just take off my pants and fuck you right now,” Tom growled as he palmed his boner through his jeans.

“Please, Daddy, I want you to fuck me. Please, I promise I’ll be good,” you whined desperately. He shook his head and moved away from you.

“No. I can wait and so can you.” You sighed in frustration and arousal from both Tom’s words and the vibrator. You were so wound up in your arousal that you didn’t notice Tom unbuckling his belt and throwing his pants down in one move. You zoned your attention onto Tom’s erect cock as his veiny hand stroked it at a steady pace. The sight made your mouth water and your pupils dilate. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last with Tom touching himself to you getting punished.

“Oh my god, Daddy, I-” you began.

“Five more minutes, baby, and then I’ll fuck you the way you like it, okay?” Tom reassured while pumping his fist along his cock. He let go of his cock and crawled above your trembling body. Tom placed a butterfly kiss in the middle of your forehead to ease your mind. His kisses trailed down your body and you cursed after each touch of his lips. Once he reached the dip of your breasts, he pulled your dress down to expose your chest. Tom licked around your nipples and ended with a light suck. It took all of your willpower to stop yourself from cumming as he licked and sucked on your nipples.

“Holy fuck, you make me feel so good, Daddy!” you shuddered feeling the cold air on your wet nipples. Tom grinned smugly placing his hand back on his cock. You watched him stroke the precum around himself and you felt your pussy about to defy your orders. As if reading your mind, Tom indicated that you had two minutes until you could cum.

“Now, on the last minute, I’m gonna lick that wet pussy of yours until you cum all over my face. How does that sound, princess?” Tom purred making you nod your head frantically. Tom turned off the vibrator making you gasp at the sudden loss. That was immediately compensated with Tom’s mouth engulfing your wetness. Your nails jabbed into the palm of your hand as Tom fucked you with his tongue. Strings of profanities mindlessly flew from your mouth as the seconds ticked on.

“M’kay, princess, you can cum once I count down from 3. Ready?” You muttered out a “mhm” as he proceeded to eat you out.

“Three.” you sighed as your orgasm was building up.

“Two.” Tom licked a stripe from the bottom of your hole to your puckered clit. You shrieked as the tip of his tongue curled along the bud.

“One. Now cum for me baby,” Tom growled before sucking on your clit hard. As if on queue, your orgasm rushed through your body and you came on Tom’s mouth. Your body shook as he ate you through your orgasm and you swore you almost blacked out from the intensity. Tom didn’t give you much time to calm down from your orgasm as he started lubing his cock with your wetness.

“You did so good for me, princess! Ready to take my cock now?” Tom asked, running his length against your folds. You were unable to speak so you moaned hoping it would suffice. Of course, it didn’t for Tom.

“Try again, princess. I know what you want, but you need to tell me,” Tom teased sadistically.

“Tommm-” you breathlessly muttered. “Daddy, please! I want you inside me. Please, fuck me!” Tom smiled softly at you and then thrusted into you without warning. Your eyes roll back as he roughly shoves the rest of his cock inside you. He throws your legs over his shoulders and sits up on his knees to fuck into you harder.

“Holy shit, Daddy, that feels so - ah, fuck - good!” you whimpered as Tom pounded into you at an angle. You suddenly remembered your hands were bound to the bed as you attempted to reach out to touch him. He smirked at your helplessness causing you to pout.

“My good princess, taking my cock so well! I love the way your pussy throbs around me! Fuck, you’re gonna make Daddy cum!” Tom grunted followed by a pornographic moan. He firmly gripped onto your hips to use as leverage to pump faster and harder into you. You cursed loudly into the lust filled room as the tip of Tom’s cock pressed against your G-spot.

“Ohhh, fuck, Daddy! Make me cum again please!” you begged. “I want to-”

“Do it, baby! Cum all over this dick, princess!” Tom growled. The slapping of skin and uncontrolled moans pushed you closer to your second orgasm. Tom reaching down to flick your swollen clit caused you to orgasm immediately. Your vision became spotty and the moans and thrusts blended together into a symphony you didn’t want to end. You came back to your senses when Tom pulled out of you and crawled right above your face. He jacked himself off until he came all over your face. He let out the hottest moan you have ever heard as you opened your mouth to take in the last drops of his cum.

“Don’t swallow yet!” Tom commanded, his hand reaching towards your face to scoop up part of his cum. He shoved his fingers past your parted lips and you subconsciously started sucking them. You rolled your tongue around his cum flavored fingers as if you were sucking his cock. He bit his lip and cursed while watching you seductively clean his fingers. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and you finally swallowed his cum.

“My good little princess,” Tom muttered gently, “hope you know now not to get on my nerves.” You giggled at his remark and he joined you in laughing. He began undoing your restraints while you came down from your sexual high. He pulled your body into his and kissed you tenderly. You melted into his kiss wrapping your arms around his neck. You both released from the kiss simultaneously smiling in bliss.

“Thank you for my birthday present, Daddy!” you chirped, “I love you!”

“I love you too, anything for my darling princess!” Tom replied, kissing you again.

#tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston x reader #reader insert #birthday smut #tom hiddleston x you

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jordanstrophe · 3 years ago

Text

War of Royalty

CW: Medieval whump, slavery, taken by royalty, manhandling, noncon holding, dragging, injured whumpee with a seasoning of angst

Masterlist

The slave stood trembling before the gates of the king’s palace, adorned in white silky clothes with their body soaked in the finest oils just for this moment. They bit their lip, their fingers woven together to hide their trembling.

They jumped when the gates creaked open, two guards ushering them in with urgency. Whumpee locked up, glancing between the two guards.

“Hey, you wanna lose your head? His highness is expecting you, get in there!” The guard barked. “Y-yes sir!” Whumpee gasped. They apparently took too long as their arm was grabbed by a cold metal glove and drug through the gates.

‘Could I really lose my head?...’ They thought. If they weren't frightened before, they certainty were now. They kept their head low, hating how their panicked steps matched the rhythm of their pounding heart.

They glanced up just enough they could see the King’s heels resting at the base of his throne. They reached the stairs, crumbling to their knees when their arm was released. They instantly pressed their forehead to the red carpet, shuttering when a wave of dread washed over them. They took a deep breath, holding it as they waited for the king's approval.

“Your majesty, your slave is presenting itself.” The guard hid a scoff behind his voice. “Ah! There you are.” The king spoke, shuffling a scroll back into shape. Whumpee’s head began to throb at the lack of oxygen, biting their lip as they refused to take a breath.

The king paused, noticing the slave's pale complexion. “Breath, little dear, you have nothing to fear.” He spoke.

Whumpee finally took a gasping breath, hearing the king let out that same old chuckle. As calming and light-hearted as it was, it still felt like a nail being hammered to their heart each time.

“Come now, I want a good look at you. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced yet.” He spoke. Whumpee slowly raised their head, staying on their knees with their hands folded in their lap. Their eyes didn’t go any higher than his knee, desperate to see his face, but not daring to test his patience.

The king stood from his throne, climbing down the steps until he was standing before the slave. Whumpee closed their eyes with a flinch when his hand came into view. The king hesitated at their reaction, but continued until he took both of their hands. The touch was gentle as they were lifted from their knees, his hold remaining in their grasp. Whumpee cringed to keep themselves lower than the king's shoulder, trying to show as much submission in hopes to keep their head...

Two fingers touched their chin, tilting their head up until they both saw each other's faces. “There you are.” The king whispered, moving his hand to cup their cheek. “It’s nice to finally see your face, especially not caked in mud now, hmm?” He smiled.

Whumpee was struck with awe, surprised to find the king had a soft expression. His brown hair swept back from his golden crown, a faint grey streak forming in the chisel of his beard. Whumpee instantly tore their eyes from his gaze, bowing with as much posture as they could muster with their torn whipped back.

“My lord... I am at your mercy. Whatever you will have of me, I will take it with obedience.” Whumpee pleaded, feeling like they were begging for their life.

They didn’t know why they were here, probably just another slave to tend the grounds. But they would be lying if they assumed the worst; to be nothing but an object torn to pieces, a broken toy to be abused by anyone who pleased.

“Oh, no no no. You’re not at my mercy, little one. You're at my hospitality.” He laughed.

“wh-... what?” Whumpee rasped, feeling a chill running up their spine.

The soft leathery glove squeezed their jaw, lilting their head up. “Do you have a name?” He asked. Whumpee gulped, shivering at their frozen blood. Traditionally, a slave took an abbreviation of their owner's last name. If they got sold or passed around, then their name changed with the household.

“My name is... Whatever my lord pleases it to be.” Whumpee instantly bowed their head, feeling the king sigh at their over-politeness.

“Well then, do you know my name?” He asked, his brow raising.

“Of course, your majesty. Your name is Arvand Otois Edetheirend the ll.” Whumpee glanced up with a tiny wince, hoping they pronounce it correctly. They had no other education aside from the chanting on the street.

The king smiled, the cup against Whumpee’s cheek turned into a playful pinch. “That’s correct! It’s easily mispronounced, It’s quite entertaining at banquets when the bellman's faces turn red when they struggle.” He chuckled.

His arm then wrapped around Whumpee’s back as they stiffened, guiding them up the stairs as he sank within his throne. “Come.” He waved, tapping Whumpee’s hand until they took it.

They gasped when their arm pulled them right into the king’s lap, enveloped into the soft fabric of his robes. Their cheek pressed against his chest with their hands resting on each of the king's shoulders, their body shot full with adrenaline.

“You’re alright, don’t be frightened.” He cooed, feeling the slave tremble in his arms, he curled his fingers in the soft texture of their hair.

“Your name is Edan, household of the king Arvand Edetheirend the ll. From now on, you will answer when I summon you, you will obey my every command and you will serve directly underneath me. Do you understand?”

No.

Whumpee didn’t understand at all.

“Yes, my lord.” He whispered quietly, softly closing his eyes.

(Last tag for prompts. Baby got a name, hence dunking them into the OC bowl :D)

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ Thank you for reading!~ @tears-and-lilies @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @starnight-whump @bumpthumpwhump @a-series-of-whumpy-events

@grizzlie70 @alien-octopus @lave-whump @amethysts-sideblog @whump-it-like-its-hot @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight @yet-another-heathen @princessofonward @whatwhumpcomments @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @mascmasochist @hamiltonwhumpdump @shokuhoemisaki @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101

#medieval whump #whump #whumpee #slavery whump #noncon carried #injured whumpee #royalty whump #adopted whumpee #forcefully held #royal caretaker #whump angst #creepy caretaker

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cheegu3 · 3 years ago

Text

~ Yandere Jaemin - The jester ~

[hi babies, this is one part of my nct fairytale series this one based on Alice in wonderland with jaemin <3, it had influence from both the original book and the book by marissa meyer centred in the universe + a lil of my own stuff]

I love alice in wonderland and jaemin so I’m so sorry how long this is lmao also yes I did write all of this on the same day ;-;

wc: 3.6k

summary : you live in wonderland, and everything is normal until a stranger shows up - a jester who says he’s looking for you, he seems innocent and sweet but is he really?

TW / trigger warning: yandere themes, mentions of - violence, murder, swearing, blood/gore, 18+ (suggestive), etc

The yearly mock festival was coming to an end. Humans and creatures alike were slowly making their way to the stairs and to the comfort of their homes. A stranger was also making their way over but not to his home, to the crowd. He slipped through it unnoticed and stopped, bowing in front of the queen.

She looked at him in curiosity but also in fascination. He was very much used to this, having people stare at his beauty and the way he presented himself - elegant and cocky.

‘‘ My majesty. I come to seek refuge in your town ‘‘ the stranger said.

The queen raised her eyebrow at him and waved at the deck of cards close by, almost stumbling over their own feet in fear of displeasing the queen.

‘‘ Show this gorgeous stranger that empty house ‘‘ the queen demanded to the cards in a shrill voice.

‘‘ Yes ma’am. Come this way! ‘‘ they answered in union.

The stranger followed them in silence but kept his distance. They went far and near, up and down the crossroads and curvy paths until they reached a small cottage. It was far from the other houses and the village but he liked it immediately.

‘‘ Here we are sir! ‘‘ the cards exclaimed in union again and turned like robots ready to go back the way they came and serve the queen, it was all they knew after all.

‘‘ Excuse me ‘‘ the stranger had had one thing and one thing only on his mind throughout the whole trip there.

The reason he was here in the first place

You

‘‘ Do you happen to know where...y/n is? ‘‘

The deck of cards looked baffled, one of them even chuckled.

‘‘ y/n? Why would you want to see her sir, she’s so very eh- ‘‘ one said

‘‘ -mad ‘‘ another filled in.

‘‘ Who are you anyway? ‘‘ said another

‘‘ Jaemin, I’m a jester from far far away ‘‘ he said with clenched teeth, growing impatient at the lack of answer he was getting.

‘‘ Why would you like to see her? ‘‘ said one

‘‘ She’s not special ‘‘ said yet another

‘‘ I have to ‘‘ he said firmly and was now clenching his fist.

‘‘ She’s not far from here sir. She lives in the cottage opposite this forest ‘‘ said one card with cloves on his front.

‘‘ Thank you ‘‘ Jaemin exclaimed in relief and watched as the deck of cards turned and walked down the path.

On the outside it looked like an old cottage like any other, with broken windows and an overgrown garden. The jester wasn’t surprised, they must’ve given him the most ugly and worn out house since he was still a stranger but with a few snaps of his fingers, the inside would look a lot better than the outside.

As he had finished snapping his fingers three times he saw the familiar white cloud in the window but before he walked in he had to check around the area. He thought he heard the rustling of leaves and twigs being broken.

Looking to his right, he saw in the distance how a girl was walking towards him. Instinctively his heart started to beat faster because what if it was you? The girl was wearing a dress which was blue and she had a white apron tightly wrapped around her which was full of flour. In her right hand she was holding a basket filled with something and her hair shone bright in the sunlight that was peeking through the thick trees above.

// YOUR POV //

You were just about to walk past your favourite abandoned cabin when you noticed, it was no longer abandoned. A handsome young man, about the same age as yourself was standing outside it. You being all alone though, this far out from other people made you scared so you kept your head down right when you passed by him.

‘‘ Hey! ‘‘ you sighed in disappointment, all too often creepy men or creatures would try to stop you and flirt which made you very uncomfortable.

You tried to put on a fake smile before you turned to face him.

‘‘ Hi! ‘‘

‘‘ You’re y/n ‘‘ he stated.

You probably looked very confused to the stranger. How did he know your name? In this wide land, you were a nobody and this random man you just stumbled upon seems to know who you are - by the look of his curious brown eyes studying you - maybe he even knew everything about you.

‘‘ Yes..sir. Can I help you? ‘‘ you asked hesitantly and wanted to punch yourself for sounding so small and helpless.

The boy took some time to answer, suddenly looking a bit nervous the way he fumbled with his hands.

‘‘ Oh, I just. I’m your new neighbour, Jaemin. The cards said I might meet a young woman here who lived close by ‘‘

Shit, you were really too paranoid sometimes, this was just a harmless boy who had moved in right next to you.

‘‘ Oh! Yes of course ‘‘ you smiled at him with more genuine warmth now

‘‘ Welcome to the neighbourhood then I suppose ‘‘

They boy nodded and chuckled. He was very attractive, and you were pretty sure he knew it. Tall, dark and handsome with puppy like brown eyes and fluffy hair. He had a defined nose and rosy lips that matched his smooth and beautiful skin. But the most attractive thing about him, to you, was the way he carried himself.

That smile could just about make any girl fall for him, maybe even worship him. As he stood there looking at you become entranced with his beauty you began to wonder if he was using magic on you so you put your guard up again slightly.

‘‘ Thank you. I hope to see you around, where do you work? ‘‘ he asked and you almost bit your lip at the look he was giving you, it was very intense and his smile yet again so charming.

‘‘ Oh! ‘‘ you exclaimed suddenly, you had forgotten to answer and had just stared at him getting completely lost. You saw him smirking at this.

‘‘ I-I work at the bakery in town, hence- ‘‘ you gestured to your flour dusted apron and dress with a sad smile.

He laughed heartily but assured you,

‘‘ You look fine, trust me ‘‘

You smiled shyly in response. It felt like he was kind of flirting, he was giving you that look again that both turned you on and made you creeped out, it said

I know everything about you

Nevertheless if that was the case, you felt very much intrigued with this new stranger and you didn’t want him to be a stranger for long.

‘‘ I suppose I’ll see you around then ‘‘ you said suddenly when the tension had built up even more and you started remembering all the responsibilities you had at your work.

It felt like you had been here for about an hour and you had muffins to bake and customers to please.

‘‘ I suppose you will ‘‘ he answered with an amused glint in his eyes.

You decided to turn even though your body and heart really wanted to stay. Your intuition and head however won over the battle inside you and told you to get the fuck away from him.

You kept your back turned as you made you way past the mysterious boy. You had a feeling that he was still watching you as you went, eyes never leaving you and it freaked you out a little, making you shudder.

The rest of the day went on as if it was like any other day. Tons of baking and getting your hands dirty, chatty customers and delicious desserts. By the end of the long workday your muscles were aching. You cleaned up and did your usual routine of locking up the store when everyone had left.

Usually you wouldn’t think twice about walking home in the dark, your bakery closed at midnight so it was way past sunset. It was practically pitch black outside and no one was on the streets, they were all at home probably sound asleep. For some reason the queen had decided that all houses be soundproof in the village. So the fear was increasing when you thought about the stranger, the dark and walking home alone because if something happened no one would help you - they wouldn’t hear you scream or hear you cry out for help.

You turned the key that locked the bakery with shaky hands but tried to compose yourself. You had a very odd and naive thought in your head,

If I don’t get attacked tonight I can trust Jaemin

It truly didn’t make any sense but just about every cell in your body wanted to trust him, and wanted him to like you, like the way you were so attracted to him.

‘‘ y/n? ‘‘ a voice behind you said interrupting your thoughts.

You shrieked and jumped in surprise, throwing your arms up in some pathetic attempt at defence in case you’d need it.

‘‘ It’s just me, your neighbour ‘‘

You lowered your arms and smiled at him apologetically.

‘‘ Sorry ‘‘

‘‘ Don’t be I get it. It’s dark, no one’s around and I just startled you like that, I should be the one to apologise ‘‘

‘‘ No no, it’s just that I don’t like walking home in the dark ‘‘ you assured him, now feeling really guilty.

‘‘ I can walk you home ‘‘ he offered with a friendly smile.

You were silent for a bit, thinking to yourself before making up your mind.

‘‘ Yeah, I’d like that. Thank you ‘‘ you returned back the smile even though you still felt a bit uncomfortable.

Jaemin joined your side and waited for you to step away from the shop and decide the pace.

You walked in silence beside each other. You felt a bit nervous, not really being sure if you were supposed to start a conversation or not but then it dawned upon you, why the fuck was he alone there in the village anyway?

You glanced at him quickly to see if it would give you a clue to this mystery but he looked as he always did, nothing was different. So you decided to drop it and thankfully you didn’t have much more time to overthink about it because your house had now appeared in sight.

He still had a chance to take you if he wanted to, it was dark, quiet and no neighbours were close except for well...conveniently enough, him. But he didn’t. He kept his distance all the way up to the house and stepped back when you got up on the porch.

‘‘ Thank you ‘‘

‘‘ My pleasure miss ‘‘ he said with the same amused glint in his eyes.

You turned around and walked in, closing the door and locking it. Well inside you leaned on the door allowing yourself to calm down a bit.

He didn’t do anything

You shrugged and went upstairs, getting ready for bed and falling asleep not long after your head touched the pillow.

The next day he was the first thing you thought about in the morning before you jumped to your feet and rushed to put on your clothes and get to work.

You broke into a sprint constantly mumbling fuck to yourself and basically bursting in the bakery. The few customers inside and the cashier you had hired looked at you in shock.

You stopped for a bit to catch your breath before explaining, still out of breath to the cashier.

‘‘ The-Ball-I-Have-To-Bake ‘‘ you managed to press out between every breath.

The cashier gasped and immediately left the desk.

‘‘ I’ll bring you the ingredients ‘‘

You swallowed and nodded to the customers when you walked past them disappearing into the back room where you did your magic.

You put down your stuff and put on your apron already in action when the cashier came in, put the ingredients on the table and hurried out again.

You ended up making several pastries and cakes to the queen’s liking and by the end - about six hours of straight baking, you were so exhausted you decided not to go to the ball.

The cashier peeked her head in about an hour before it was to start.

‘‘ I’ll send these up? ‘‘ she walked up to the finished products and you just nodded at her, drying off the sweat that had formed on your forehead.

After that you spent the rest of the hour leading up to the ball cleaning up all the mess you had created.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You sighed, it was already closed but you have had to deal with customers knocking anyway wanting treats when you weren’t open. You put down your cleaning supplies and hurried to the door. Through the glass door you saw the outline of your neighbour.

‘‘ Jaemin? ‘‘

He shook his head and tutted at your state when you opened the door.

‘‘ Do I really look that bad? ‘‘ you said and glanced down quickly.

‘‘ For a ball, yes. Otherwise, no you look exceptional ‘‘ he said

You snorted at his flirty comment.

‘‘ I’m not going, too busy ‘‘

‘‘ What? No way. I won’t let that happen ‘‘

You turned to face him again, having walked up behind the desk to count today’s money. He leaned over the desk and tried to give you his puppy eyes.

‘‘ I can’t go like this Jaemin, sorry ‘‘ you said and shrugged your shoulders.

He scrunched his nose and stopped trying to use his puppy eyes on you now.

‘‘ I have magic ‘‘ he tilted his head when he saw this caught your attention.

‘‘ Really? You’re a jester? ‘‘ you rolled your eyes.

‘‘ What, is it not cool enough for miss or something? ‘‘ he jumped over the counter effortlessly and was now standing very close to you, closer than he’d ever been before.

They way he was towering over you basically looking down on you made you chuckle unexpectedly.

‘‘ Yeah sure it’s cool enough I guess ‘‘ you answered playfully attempting to push him out the way so you could walk past.

He put his arm out, not letting you.

‘‘ Do you use it a lot on the ladies? ‘‘ you added and held the eye-contact

He snickered and made a very cute expression which made your heart melt.

‘‘ Of course. Every time ‘‘ he said sarcastically ‘‘ Now, will you let me ‘‘ he waved to your messy state.

‘‘ I guess why not ‘‘ you said and closed your eyes.

When it was silent for a few seconds you opened them again and you saw white clouds surrounding you all around, when it had cleared and disappeared completely you could finally see his work.

You were wearing a champagne coloured silk dress that was quite tight at the top with spaghetti straps and flowed out at the bottom, highlighting your curves. Looking at you hands, they as well were polished and clean and you hair was in a sleek ponytail, feeling as if it had been washed.

‘‘ I’m impressed ‘‘ you said at last when you noticed his worried expression, anxiously waiting for your opinion.

He exhaled deeply.

‘‘ Thank god ‘‘

You giggled at his cuteness.

‘‘ Shall we go? ‘‘

‘‘ Certainly ‘‘ he answered and extended his arm for you to take.

The walk this time was also pretty quiet, the castle wasn’t too far away you could already see it from here but you just couldn’t help yourself,

‘‘ Hey Jaemin? ‘‘

‘‘ Yeah ‘‘

‘‘ What were you doing so late at night in the village yesterday? ‘‘

Although you didn’t look at him, you could feel him get a bit uncomfortable.

‘‘ Browsing I guess ‘‘ it was your turn to feel uncomfortable now, all the stores closed a lot earlier than your bakery and everyone in town knew that but he hastily added, ‘‘ The villagers told me your bakery closed very late so I thought I’d go by and buy something. Unfortunately it was closed though ‘‘ he laughed and looked down shyly when you looked at him in surprise.

‘‘ Why’s that, horrible sweet-tooth? ‘‘ you said

‘‘ No, just wanted to support my neighbour. That’s all ‘‘

You nodded and felt a bit guilty for being suspicious of him. If your guards hadn’t been down before they sure were now, basically in hell. You felt incredibly comfortable and at ease with Jaemin and you did for a moment think you were starting to fall in love with him.

This feeling would arise again when you had finally reached the castle and were greeted by the white rabbit.

‘‘ Invitations and names please ‘‘ he said in a stressed voice, his eyes all the time looking back and forth, darting between guests.

The jester gave the rabbit one of his charming smiles and you watched as he interacted with other people, even that was attractive, god what was wrong with you?

He fixed everything for the two of you, showing both of your invitations and names and you leant back letting someone else do the work for the first time in your life. It was nice, this weird feeling of being taken cared of.

He took your hand when the rabbit let you through and he lead you towards the dessert table. You raised your eyebrow at him when he started basically inhaling entire pastries of yours.

‘‘ I have to see how talented you are ‘‘ he defended himself when he saw your judging look.

You rolled your eyes and waited for him to finish, eyeing the other guests as you did. When he finally was done - after eating half the table you noticed - he dragged you out on the dance floor.

It was a slow song. You gave him a shy look, not sure if you wanted him to see how much you liked loved him or for onlookers to see that either for that matter. But he insisted, pulling you close to him and starting to rock slowly to the beat of the music. He gave you a big childish grin and you laughed, starting to move as well and letting you be drowned in this feeling.

It felt like it truly was just you and him in this world, and he would protect you and love you forever. He could do you no harm, he was amazing.

You probably radiated these feelings through the lovingly eyes you were giving him and he looked at you the same way. Everyone else faded away and it felt like you were in a fairytale, just how magical it all felt...until it didn’t,

The music was abruptly stopped and murmuring filled the hall. You didn’t have the energy to worry about it so you leaned your head again Jaemin’s chest feeling sleepy. In the distance through your dazed eyes you saw the white rabbit approach you, until he wasn’t very blurry anymore, he was clear and right in front of you clearing his throat.

‘‘ Miss you need to come with me right now ‘‘ the rabbit said in a shaky voice.

‘’ Hm? ‘‘ you said sleepily not yet leaving Jaemin’s arms.

‘‘ What’s going on? ‘‘ Jaemin said in a worriedly.

‘‘ It’s uh, something very terrible has happened to her parents sir ‘‘ the rabbit looked down on the ground under the intense stare of the jester.

‘‘ Let’s go, y/n ‘‘ he whispered to you gently and took your hand.

You had no idea what was going on but followed like a lost puppy. The rabbit lead you to a carriage which you were put in and sent off. It stopped outside your parents house, a mansion closer to Jaemin’s house than it was your own - on the outskirts of town.

‘‘ Wait here. I’ll see what’s wrong ‘‘ he said and stepped out.

Your head felt heavy, like you’d fall into eternal sleep any minute now - that’s how tired you felt, like you hadn’t slept for decades.

‘‘ y/n dear? ‘‘ the carriage door opened again and two hands extended to take your weight. You walked up to it, staggering and let yourself be lifted down.

Everything was a bit blurry but you could make out the familiar outline of your parents on the ground. They were in front of their front door and they didn’t seem to be moving. Blood was flowing out from their necks and their limbs were twisted in weird, unnatural angles.

This must’ve been the terrible thing the rabbit had been talking about...

You tried to walk towards your parents but your foot hit something. You looked down and jumped back in surprise. It was another body, no - you looked around, it was several bodies of the guards.

‘‘ What happened to them? ‘‘ you asked Jaemin in a horrified voice.

‘‘ I don’t know ‘‘ he said and bit his lip, lowering his raised right hand and entwining his left one with yours.

‘‘ Look at me y/n ‘‘

You turned to look at him, starting to feel a bit overwhelmed and scared of everything going on. You felt crazy, like you had no idea what was real and what wasn’t.

‘‘ You and I, we’re gonna live together. Far far away from here and we will be happy forever because you love me right? Say it! ‘‘ he roared the last words but you weren’t scared. You just looked at him with loving eyes.

‘‘ I love you ‘‘ you said like a robot,

completely entranced

you were his

forever

#kpop #kpopidol #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #yandere kpop #NCT #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #yandere nct #nct dream #nct smut #jaemin #yandere #kpop yandere

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morihaus · 3 years ago

Text

Apotheosis

Winds howl outside of the Imperial Palace. Belharza, son of the Emperor Alessia, sits alone in his chair in the chamber of the council. The weather has not been the only thing weighing on the city of Rumarium; for days now the Emperor has been poor of health, the toll of all her life's toil and struggle finally arriving to meet her on her deathbed, the somber hand of Arkay, the bitter kiss of Kyne.

Twelve hours hence, she has been dead. Her son survives her as only child and heir to her throne. The city mourns her, and as word spreads, all of Cyrod mourns its mother, its liberator and caretaker, its Emperor for 23 years- just 23, such a pittance when stacked up to the tyranny of the Ayleid hegemony, which to men seemed to stretched beyond the farthest point of remembrance, so many lives ago that the time before exists only in myth. The First-crowned Queen-ut-Cyrod deserved better than this. Belharza's mother deserved better.

He feels a breeze blow in from behind him, a wind coursing through the marble halls of the palace, blowing his long dark hair over his shoulders. It is only wind, and then, footfalls on the floor, slow and heavy, in stark contrast to the flight of the wind. Belharza lifts his head and glances over his shoulder. A massive minotaur fills the doorway to the council chamber, long hair waving and curling down his shoulders like a sky of black clouds. His horns are tall and proud, wrapped with rings of gold and ebony, strung with strings of hawk's feathers. Two large wings are folded on his back. The cold wind blows behind him.

He regards his son with deep blue eyes, clouded and gray, belying his true age. The old bull looks weary. "Belharza." His voice is deep, carried and reverberated by the chambers even as he addresses him gently. He steps forward, his armor of fur and iron the only noise apart from his footsteps, and the gentle wind that surrounds him.

Belharza stands up from his seat. He meets the eye of Morihaus- he can see now why his mother has often remarked their resemblance with a melancholy smile, although his own hair does not roll like the clouds do, his own eyes do not hold the dangerous glimmer of lightning, nor does his form hold the foreboding rumble of thunder. He did, however, sprout a small pair of wings from an early age- too small to be useful, but just enough to be there. It is among the only things his father has ever given him.

"Father." Belharza speaks flatly, his mood dark, unfit for this meeting he had always dreamed of. He never knew Morihaus growing up, he'd taken flight from the Imperial City before he was born, something his mother had never been bitter over, and for the most part, he'd followed her line of thinking. He had often wondered, though, speaking with the clan of Morihaus- for he was a great uncle to many war chiefs and soothsayers- and hearing tales of his greatness, his good humor and passion for song, and he wondered too while speaking to the Paravanics who had fought alongside him and his mother, who spoke of him as a great general, savior of men, one who could clear a treeline with his voice- he wondered what it would be to meet his father, this mythical figure of his boyhood who so many grownups seemed to know.

He wondered, but he had never pictured the meeting like this.

Morihaus walked so that there was only a small distance between the father and son, and then bowed his head- in sympathy, in apology, in reverence, Belharza could not say.

But he says this: "She is gone." And when his father does not move, he continues. "She has left us. Gone to join you, I suppose." His words are without venom, he states them as a fact he wishes to grow used to. His father raises back up to meet him. His features are set in a worried frown. "I am sorry, Belharza." He breathes into the room as a whisper. "For my loss?" He asks plainly. "Or, do you wish to amend your own absence from my life?" His face does not change. "I should like to apologize on both accounts, dear Bel."

"Did you come to see her?" Belharza asks, neutral once again.

Morihaus nods. "I felt her time approach and made haste." The face of a minotaur is not extraordinarily emotive to a man, but to a man-bull, like Belharza, he can interpret the subtleties, the shame painted on his face, the guilt in his eyes. "In service to my Mother Kyne, I have carried many souls of great warriors on wing to her realm, or to the realm of Shor... it was understood between us, your mother was a great warrior, an ardent follower of her ways, and she would have her place there. But when I arrived..." He becomes quiet, his full and melodious voice withdrawing back down his throat, filling his lungs up heavy with bitter words.

Belharza makes no motion to speak. He only looks at his father, expectantly. He continues, eventually.

"What I witnessed is... difficult to explain. You were present- did you see? As she passed?" Morihaus asks. Belharza nods. "I was there." He pauses. "...I may have seen, something. I see many things that others do not. Mother always said you were to thank for that, your divine blood." The old bull nods at him. "Aye, that is the truth. The mortal and the divine, they see things differently. On that balcony, at her side... he arrived before me."

"The Crusader." He says, half-questioningly. "Pelinal."

A huff of hair blows out from Morihaus's snout. "It looked that way. But Pelinal is dead. He was torn asunder in this tower, he spoke to me as his spirit passed into a place I could not follow. And this... apparition, in it, I did not sense his spirit. Did you hear?" Belharza nods quietly, Morihaus continues. "What he spoke of, the et'ada, the beginning place, the movements of the heavens... in life, he never did say much of the gods. He served them, and I knew him as kin, but he has always held a distaste for spiritual matters, spoken in mortal tongues. I cannot fathom why he came to Paravania, nor what he meant to say."

"He took her," Belharza says, glancing to the floor. "I saw- I thought I saw. It looked as though he carried her up, up into the heavens."

"He steals mine own honor." Morihaus snorts, almost laughs. Then, again, he grows serious. "My uncle was never one to covet in life. He hungered, he wanted, but he did not covet that which was another's. He would have nothing to do with Perrif's soul, nothing before my mother and I."

His son looks back up to him. "Where... where did he take her? To the halls of Shor?"

Morihaus shakes his head. "I have been myself- Pelinal's spirit does not reside there. It cannot reside there. I would have carried him myself if he could." He hangs his head some, recalling the passing of his uncle, and finding himself on complicated ground betwixt mundane and immortal once again. "I have thought on it in these past years. At times, I blew through the great fields and forests, delved into the deep oceans, soared to the highest points in the clouds, hunting his spirit, without luck. I am wise enough to confess my stubborn nature, for divine I may be, I am still a bull, and I hunted for long on my own before thinking to ask my mother."

Belharza tries to conceive of what his father says- the shape of a bull with the wings of a hawk, darting throughout all of creation to find a departed soul. He suspects it may be more complicated than that, some divine metaphor twisting around it, but then again, he recalls fondly-remembered stories his mother would share of Morihaus, his willfulness and the strange places it could take him- times he would cross over the Jerrals, travel half the continent while meant to be petitioning in Skyrim, to return to Cyrod and meet with her at night.

The image of his father, flighty and wild, turning over logs and stones searching for the lost Pelinal, it's almost enough to lighten his expression. But this is just his own mind wandering. Perhaps they are more alike than he knows.

"Understanding my mother is no mean feat," He says, regarding his son. "Strange as I must seem to you, know that to me, my divine parent is just as alien. I am her, but as am I my mortal mother, my mortal people, my mortal self, and some of her perceptions are all but lost on me. She told me little, she told that Pelinal had done what was needed of him, and to die with the revolution's victory was a good end... but as to his whereabouts, she said he was not her soul to keep." "Then whose?" Belharza asks. He is met with silence, frustrating silence. He asks more forcefully. "Whose? Where is my mother's soul? What did he do to her?" "He pulled her up- made her from mortal to spirit, so she might lay among the heavens forever. Queen-ut-Cyrod, brighter than the stars-" "I don't care for your poetry-" Belharza loudly asserts, his own voice now booming in the hall. "I don't care for your god-talk- dammit!" He turns to one side with a huff, boots clattering against the tiles of the chamber. He paces away from his father in no particular direction, approaching a column and glaring into it.

Morihaus looks on, forlorn. He sighs, and the breeze almost wraps itself around Belharza's shoulders as it tussles his hanging braids, like some form of comfort. "I'm sorry. This... is what I hope for, Bel, but whether it is the truth, I cannot say."

"What do I care?" Belharza shakes his head, clenching his fists at his sides. "Whether her spirit is in one place or another- she's gone, that's what has happened today, and that is the grief I will carry for the rest of my life. What is the point in wondering where she is? The realm of Kyne, of Shor, of Akatosh, it makes no difference, she is gone to me any way." His voice grows ragged as he chokes with tears, his eyes stinging with bitter sorrows. Though a grown man, he feels helpless like a child in the face of such a loss- his mother had been his world, and now the shadow of death had ripped her away from him, and she was gone, forever.

His father approaches him, but leaves a fair distance, just slight enough for his whispering voice to carry to him. "Do you remember what she told you, Bel, about me? When I was gone to you?" Belharza does not reply, only taking a breath as he remains fixed on the pillar in front of him. "...I am a spirit, Bel. I am more than my body, more than a man-bull. I am the skies and storms, the thunder; I am movement, I am the movements in the hearts of men, I am their battlecry; I am the wind in the rolling hills, blowing the grasses and flowers; I am the breeze in the canopy of the forest, swaying the branches; I am the gale upon the sea, the scent of it in your lungs, I am the very breath that you take." Belharza finally turns to face his father again, without expression, with tears on his face. Morihaus is not shaken from his words. "When a mortal dies, their spirit is released into a vast cosmos. They are gone from their lives, from their loved ones, but from there, there are many roads, countless paths that a soul can take... do you understand?"

He only receives an expectant look. Belharza's face lightens somewhat. There is hope in the winding words of Morihaus.

"Though I was forced to leave you, and could no longer walk this world as I had, I found my ways to you- to both of you. It has been, and will be forever, a great pain that I could not stay... but there are some ways in which my presence could be felt, some ways in which I was there all along." Morihaus steps forward, slowly raising his hand to brush Belharza's hair from his face, as gently as the breeze, as his own mother's hand. "Your mother will be gone as I was. You will feel her. She will still be with you."

---

Belharza was anointed Emperor before the Elder Council and the citizens of the Imperial City, including his divine father, who could not stay for long, but was pleased to see and know his son as a man, and content to answer the questions of the citizenry to the best of his ability, or at least his want.

The new emperor spends the first weeks of his reign still in mourning, but more hopeful for having spoken with his father and his other relatives, who gave him heart to imagine his mother at peace. He spends much of his days outdoors, honoring her memory in the gardens and outside the city walls, even beyond the shores of the Rumare and into the jungles. On one occasion, which would be a moment only for him to know and remember, he stumbles upon a field of flowers below a small hill. He finds it a good place to say his piece, and there he would speak to his mother, expressing his deepest affections and tearful goodbyes. All of the sudden, he feels drops of water landing on his bowed head, and he looks up to see a spring running from the rock, a spring which had most definitely not been there before. As though the land of Cyrod itself were weeping for him.

At this, Belharza only smiles knowingly.

#tesfest21 #mori writing #belharza #morihaus #cw for death and grief

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