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he3ts · 2 days ago

Text

GIVE YOU MY LOVE

squid game masterlist / part one — part two — masterlist

pairings: nam gyu x reader

warnings: angst, jealous!nam gyu, smut ( p in v ) less than the first part but i prioritized tension and sadness!! toxic relationship, sub reader, alcohol use. mild thanos x reader. this is part two, i recommend you read part one to continue reading. sorry if this is long, but i got too carried away. never mind the mistakes, i'm fucking tired

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and i don't see an easy way to get out of this,,

her diary, it sits by the bedside table

the curtains are closed, the cats in the cradle

who would've thought that a boy like me could come to this

oh i, i just died in your arms tonight

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This time, you would not come back

At first, he didn't pay him any mind; you always did that. You would walk away, disappear for a few days, then come back, slamming the door and insulting him for his way of doing things. It was your sick game, a cycle that repeated itself over and over again. He knew it, had always known it, and that's why he hadn't worried when, for the first time, you didn't answer his calls.

You're being difficult. He had told himself a thousand times, throwing the phone on the table with a tired smile. But then the days had passed. Seven, to be precise. A week without a message, without a call, without even your name lit up on the screen in the middle of the night. A week of total silence. And then the weeks had turned into a month.

Nam Gyu had begun to feel it on his skin, that emptiness, like an ink stain slowly spreading, staining his days, soiling everything. The phone had become an obsession. Every night he unlocked it, looked at your contact, but he couldn't call you. He was too proud. Too convinced that, sooner or later, you would give in. You. Not him. Just you.

Only you hadn't. As the months began to roll by, Nam Gyu began to change.

He was no longer him. Or maybe, he was more than before, but without your eyes to make him feel like someone better. Without your presence to balance his chaos. His nights were made up of never-ending cigarettes, of glasses left on the edge of the table, of pills melted under his palate, of days that blurred together without meaning. He did not sleep, or slept too much. He talked little, or talked too much and to the wrong person.

Girls came and went. Bodies without faces, kisses without taste. He looked for your scent on them and never found it. It irritated him. It drove him crazy.

One year. A year without you. That was how he measured time now.

No one was saying it out loud, but everyone was noticing. The way he reacted to things had changed, patience was in tatters, irritability a constant. Friends knew it, strangers who crossed his path at the wrong time knew it, but no one knew it as much as he did.

No one felt your absence like he did. Yet, he was no longer looking for you. Because inside him, though he didn't want to admit it, he understood. This time, you were not coming back. For your own sake.

The club Pentagon was still the same. Dim lights, pounding music, bodies moving too close, but never enough to fill the void. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat and stale desire, a perfect place for those who wanted to forget, for those seeking a temporary escape from reality. Nam Gyu had dropped onto one of the black leather couches, a drink between his fingers. The amber liquid swayed slightly as he stared blankly at it. He didn't even know why he was there. Or maybe he knew, but he didn't want to admit it. It had been months since he had heard from you. Months that had stretched into a whole year.

"May I sit down?" A female voice brought him back to reality. He looked up as his eyes rested on a young woman with dark hair, bold eyes, a smile that tasted of promise. She wore a black dress that swathed her body in a way that should have attracted him. It should have.

Nam Gyu did not answer right away; he already knew how it would end. It was going to be a night like many others, a night when he would try to forget you in the arms of someone else. It never worked, but he kept trying anyway. He nodded his head. She smiled, satisfied with his silent acceptance, and sat down next to him. Her scent was sweet, perhaps too much so.

"Are you alone?"

He gave a small, bitter smile. "For a long time"

The girl laughed, as if that answer was a joke, and moved just enough closer to reduce the distance between them. Her fingers grazed the rim of his glass, her red-lacquered fingernails tracing a circle on the cold glass.

"Can I buy you another drink?"

He finished what was in his hand in one slow sip, letting the fire from his drink trickle down his throat, and then set the empty glass on the table.

"That's not necessary"

She leaned even closer, her legs crossed in a studied way, her knee brushing against his. "Then maybe I can offer you something better"

Her fingers slid down the collar of his shirt, playing with the first open button. It was an inviting, calculated gesture, something that should have ignited a modicum of interest in him. Yet, he felt nothing. There was no excitement, no desire, just a sense of apathy that suffocated him.

But he did not back down. He could not go on like this. Maybe, this time, it could work. Maybe, this time, he would stop thinking about you.

The cab sped silently through the brightly lit streets of Seoul. Nam Gyu sat beside the girl, his head leaning against the window. He looked out, the reflection of the lights stretching across the glass, distorted like his thoughts. She was talking to him, but he wasn't really listening, occasionally nodding, occasionally hinting at a smile. He had gotten good at pretending.

When they reached his apartment, she took him by the hand and pulled him inside, without hesitation. She closed the door behind her, dropping her purse on the floor, and pushed him against the wall.

"Are you always this quiet?" she whispered, biting her lower lip as her fingers slipped over his shirt. He looked at her, searching for something in her eyes, something that might convince him she was doing the right thing. But he found nothing. Still, he let her. Her lips came to rest on his, the kiss was expert, voracious, but it didn't make him feel a single thing. Her hands touched him, sought him out, and he reciprocated out of pure automatism.

He let himself be pulled toward the bed, his breathing heavy, his body moving without his mind really being there. She pushed him down, lay on top of him, her lips tracing a trail down his neck. He closed his eyes. For a moment, just a moment, he tried to imagine that she was you. That the hands caressing him were yours. That the voice whispering his name was yours.

And then, without meaning to, without thinking about it. She had squeezed his hair vigorously. Only you could do that.

"Y/n, oh my god bunny"

The girl stopped suddenly, hearing that unfamiliar name. She stiffened and pulled away slightly, her breathing labored. "What did you say?"

Nam Gyu opened his eyes. Her own whisper still seemed to echo in the room. Your name. He had said it. He had whispered it against the lips of another girl. A heavy silence fell between them. She drew back, her eyes narrowing in a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

He did not answer. There was nothing to say. She stood up abruptly, hastily picking up her clothes scattered on the floor. "Take your ex back at this point," she spat, slipping on her jacket without even looking at him again. And then, without another word, she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Nam Gyu stood motionless, his gaze lost in the ceiling, his breathing heavy.

He closed his eyes again, but this time there was no illusion, no lie to take refuge in.

The bed was cold. And the emptiness he felt inside him seemed to have no end.

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Time had stopped making sense, your days had turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into a whole year without him. Without his burning gaze on you, without his voice to make you shiver, without his touch to always bring you back to where you started, without his caresses.

You had left without a trace, because you really needed it. Needed to change. You had changed areas, found a different job, away from those places that talked too much about him. You had deleted numbers, blocked calls, closed every door left ajar. You had even nipped relationships with people who could have brought you back, because you knew that all it took was one small crack to bring you down again.

It had been difficult at first. The sleepless nights, the phone that went silent but you kept looking at it anyway. The dreams in which he still appeared, vivid, real, with that damned ability to creep under your skin even when you didn't want him to.

And then there was the silence. Too much silence.

The mornings when you woke up with a heavy heart, a tight throat, and the knowledge that you were facing another day without him. The dumb ache of knowing that, deep down, no one had ever made you feel the way he did. Not even in the good, and especially not in the bad. But then it had become habit.

Silence had stopped being an enemy, and had begun to seem almost like a salvation, no longer having to explain to yourself why you always came back, no longer having to justify your need for him with excuses that no longer held up. And, little by little, you had begun to convince yourself that it was really over, that there was nothing left between you. That the love that had consumed you had died along with that old version of you.

But some days were harder than others. You simply woke up already in the morning in a crooked moon. You suffered from lifelong insomnia, but with him it was rare to happen, but that night it was past one, then two, then three. You were lying on the bed, the ceiling a white void that gave you no answers, darkness enveloping everything but your thoughts. Your chest ached, as if there was a weight on it, a tight knot that wouldn't untie.

You didn't know what had triggered that particular night. Maybe a familiar smell heard on the street, maybe "I Just Died in your Arms" played on the radio just that afternoon, his favorite song, maybe just the weariness of having to pretend every day that you had moved on. You had gotten out of bed with soft legs, head light. In the kitchen, the silence was deafening. You had leaned your hands against the counter closing your eyes, biting your lip to hold back the burning that rose in your throat. But it was no use. You could feel it coming. That silent pain, that grip that gripped your stomach and left no escape.

And then, without warning, the tears began to fall. Slow, heavy.

No sobs, no sound, just a silent weeping that seemed to never end. Warm drops on your cheeks, on your lips, falling onto the kitchen countertop one after another, as if your body was expelling all the pain that had been trapped inside for too long.

You felt stupid. You felt weak.

A year had passed. A bloody year. You should have been better off. You should have been free of all this. Instead, there you were, crying in the darkness of a kitchen you didn't even feel was yours, your heart still beating for him, his name trembling on your lips even though you didn't say it.

With the knowledge that, perhaps, you had never really forgotten him.

And that, perhaps, you never would.

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Rain was falling incessantly on the city's gray streets, slipping from the rooftops like tears that no one would ever wipe away. The sky was a cluster of dark clouds, and the air had that oppressive weight that precedes something inevitable. You walked aimlessly, your hands stuffed in the pockets of your jacket too light for that bitter cold, your mind clouded by thoughts that would not shut up. It was one of those days that seemed meant to break you down, no money in your wallet, no place to return to with a smile.

And now him, too. You had rebuilt your life, of course you had to, you were engaged and maybe in love but you didn't know for sure. You thought it centered on the theory that first love is forever, maybe that was why you couldn't open your heart easily to someone else. It was like a poison. But fortunately you had managed, however briefly, to be happy. It had all started that morning with a seemingly innocuous sentence, a joke said lightly, almost in jest.

"You are with me, but sometimes I feel like your head is elsewhere"

You had looked up from the empty plate, fingers fiddling with the now useless fork, your boyfriend was standing in front of you, a smile on his face, you knew him well enough to know something was up. And you knew yourself well enough to know that at that time you were not as spry as before.

"What are you talking about?" you had asked, trying not to sound defensive. He had shaken his head, the smile barely on his lips, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.

"About him"

Your breath had caught in your throat for a second. Yes, him. Nam Gyu.

He had said it out loud. Even though he had never spoken his name, that name that was no longer supposed to belong to you. You had set your fork down on the table with a clatter, trying to maintain control. "I don't want to talk about it"

"But you still think about it"

"I don't"

He had laughed, but without mirth. "Are you really sure?"

Were you? His words were a knife digging into you, slow and precise. "It doesn't matter," you had said finally, crossing your arms.

"It matters to me"

His fingers had drummed against the table, the sound rhythmic and nervous. Then he had shifted, leaning against the back of the chair, watching you with a gaze that made you feel naked, vulnerable. In that perspective, you had noticed how a little like him he looked. You were so screwed.

"I heard you in your sleep," he had said. "You call him. Not me. Him"

You had stiffened.

"No"

"Yes"

The air in the room had become heavy, unbreathable, and going back seemed impossible. "It's not my fault if-"

"If what?" he had pressed, raising his voice. "If he left you? If he destroyed you and now you think no one else can put you back together?"

You had felt your face heat up, your throat tighten. It was unfair. It was cruel. But it wasn't a lie. "If you think that, why did you stay with me?" you had retorted, your voice broken with anger and pain, "You knew my history, you ... You cannot hold my greatest weakness against me"

He had shaken his head, and for a moment had looked more tired than angry. He raised an eyebrow, not expecting me to respond that way.

"Because I thought that in time things would change"

A long silence had fallen between you. One that hurt more than words. Then he had sighed, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, not turning around before leaving. Nothing more had needed to be said. He had been right. He could not be a replacement and you were still trapped in the past. Alone again.

You had left the house only three hours later, your cheeks streaked with bitter tears, your nose red with shame. You felt the air lacking inside the crowded subway, the air saturated with the smell of rain and dampness. You had sat in a corner, your hood up, your eyes fixed on your hands entwined in your lap. Then you had seen him when you hurried downstairs. A well-dressed man with an enigmatic smile and an expression of someone who always knew more than he was saying. He had stretched a smile at you in a casual, almost distracted gesture.

"Will you play with me?" he had said, and you had almost laughed. A game. It was almost funny, maybe he was trying to cheer up your depressed mood. He had shown you two cards, one blue and one red, and you immediately knew what the game was. Ddakji. You had accepted, perhaps just out of defiance. Maybe because you needed something to take your anger out on.

Every blow you gave against the card seemed a reflection of the chaos inside you. Every pop in the air, every defeat, every burn on your skin when his hand hit your face. But then you had won and the bills had slipped through your trembling fingers. It was not the money that scared you. It was the temptation, because you needed the money. And, perhaps, you had nothing left to lose.

You had returned home sadder than before, the room was a reflection of you, you had taken off your soggy jacket and dropped it to the floor with a dull thud, you sat in the armchair cross-legged looking at the damn note.

Then the music had begun.

"Oh, I just died in your arms tonight..."

You had frozen. A chill had gone down your spine, your hands had begun to shake. That song, that damn song. The radio croaked slightly, the sound imperfect, lived-in. An old gift. One you had kept out of habit, just because it was part of you, and like a slow poison, your mind had gone back.

To him.

To the first time you had listened to that song together, lying on the bed with the rain beating against the glass. To the way he had smiled, brushing your hair away from your face with a careless gesture. To the taste of his lips, to the unspoken promise that was in every kiss. To the anger. To the longing. To everything you had tried to bury. Your gaze had slipped to the note clenched in your fist. Maybe you weren't really free. Maybe you never would have been.

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The metallic sound of the doll's voice was still echoing in your head.

The field was littered with motionless bodies, some lifeless, others paralyzed with fear. Blood stained the dusty ground, yet adrenaline did not allow you to dwell on that scene of terror. Your heart was beating so fast you feared it might explode. You had survived. Where the fuck had you gone? Blood, too much blood, your beautiful face was stained crimson red, you could no longer breathe regularly. But you were alive. With hands still trembling, you had turned around slowly, trying to catch your breath, to process what had just happened.

Terror made your whole body shake in a ghoulish dance, you hid your hands in the pockets of that horrible green sweatshirt. You were breathing only because you had to, only because you wanted to live again. You could not die, you were young, poor, yes, but still young. Everyone seemed too interested in money, blinded almost to want to continue. You obviously voted X, how could you continue knowing that maybe you would die next?

The bed was uncomfortable, you couldn't even eat, you were terrified, and now you were forced to play again just because of someone else's greed.

Nam Gyu no longer knew how long he had been staring into space, the spoon trembled between his fingers, he was nervous, he was in withdrawal, the bland meal had now cooled before him, but none of this mattered. He was in withdrawal and thought it was just yet another vision he had before him. But no, he had seen you. You. Across the room, far away, your back slightly bent as if you wanted to make yourself smaller, more invisible. There you were, intent on eating in silence, not drawing attention to yourself, but your face, your movements, everything about you screamed your presence like a deafening echo in his chest.

The spoon almost slipped out of his hand. His lungs closed, as if the air had suddenly become too thick for him to breathe.

One year.

But it had only taken one glance. One bloody instant to shatter every lie. He had lost you. But he had never forgotten you. And now you were there. You were real.

Your hair was longer, slightly messy, but it still looked good on you, as if it belonged to that version of you he had never known. Your face was more mature, marked by something he couldn't define. Suffering? Weariness? Or was it just time that had left its mark?

You were even more beautiful. A kind of beauty that hurt the eyes.

You looked fragile, almost ethereal, as if the world had crushed you for too long. But he knew. He knew that inside you was still that flame, that storm that had always engulfed him. He watched as you brought the spoon to your lips slowly, with no real desire to eat, with no real taste to that meal. Your movements were mechanical, lifeless, and that realization hit him like a punch to the stomach.

He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. A laugh at his side abruptly brought him back to reality: Thanos, the purple-haired boy, the rapper, always stoned and a little disconnected. Sitting next to him looking relaxed, as if they hadn't just risked their lives. He was saying something, a joke maybe, but Nam Gyu couldn't follow him.

Not as long as you were there. Not as long as your breath seemed to echo in every corner of the room. Thanos followed his trajectory, turning his head sharply toward Nam Gyu "Do you know her?"

"No," he had gasped, but he still stared at you with too much intensity, without shame or modesty. Your eyes met. One moment. A single, eternal moment.

Your lips barely parted. The spoon remained suspended between your fingers, as if you had forgotten what you were doing. Nam Gyu felt the blood freeze in his veins.

You.

It was really you.

Bunny.

He had missed you.

He had missed you to death.

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He did not know how it had started, but Thanos had set his eyes on you from the start. He had opened the cross necklace around his neck only to pull out what looked like an ecstasy pill to Nam Gyu. He scrutinized you as if you were a fun puzzle to solve, as if he had already decided you were worth playing with.

After the fight with Player 333 he seemed more fierce than ever, his had been a test toward him, he was plotting something, and Nam Gyu knew it. Maybe he had noticed the way he was looking at you? He didn't want to talk, didn't want to hunt for some weakness. But seeing you there again had ignited that flame in him that he was unlikely to extinguish now. He felt the fire sprinkle in him everywhere, how delirious.

Thanos was serious, approaching you with that relaxed walk of his, his head slightly tilted, as if everything was a big joke and he was the only one who knew the punchline.

Nam Gyu could tell from your eyes, from that little glint, that you were amused. Maybe from his dilated pupils. Okay it's done, it's going to be really funny.

He clenched his fists inside his pockets, his fingernails digging into his palm. Thanos was already in front of your figure, his face tilted in a theatrical gesture, while you were still trying to finish your cross-legged meal.

"Hey, Señorita"

Nam Gyu felt the blood boiling in his veins, you barely looked up from your meal, the spoon suspended in midair. You tilted your head, watching him curiously.

"Señorita?" you repeated with a smile that, however small, was enough to annoy Nam Gyu. That symptom of belonging. You had never been engaged, not officially, but at the club his friends always tried to stay away from you.

"Yes." Thanos nodded slowly, with that air of a sassy kid who enjoyed pushing himself. "I've decided I'm going to call you that. It sounds better than your number, doesn't it?"

"I don't like it"

Thanos clutched his shoulders. Nam Gyu forced himself to look away. He felt his own breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling with effort. He had no right to be annoyed. He had no right to intervene. Yet, he felt the need to do so.

You chuckled, lowering your gaze to your meal.

"Join my team, and I will protect you at all costs"

Another laugh. Light, almost distracted. Yet every time Nam Gyu heard it, it was like a punch in the stomach. He hadn't heard you laugh like that in a long time. Not with him. Not for him. He was the one who knew every expression on your face, every nuance in your voice, and yet, there you were now, smiling with someone else.

And then, as if that were not enough, your eyes shifted to him. You were doing it on purpose, it was so predictable. You hadn't seen him in years. Years in which you had tried to forget the sound of his voice, the way his touch could burn your skin, the look with which he had always made you feel naked, exposed, vulnerable. You had vowed never to think of him again, to rebuild yourself, to erase his name from your mind. But when your eyes had landed on him in that bare, stuffy dormitory, time had stood still.

He had changed. Thinner, harder. His face seemed carved in stone, his black eyes were duller, more hollowed out. Did he have new tattoos? For a moment, you had seen a spark of something familiar before he looked away.

"So now you want to impress me?" you had told him, as Thanos sat down next to you just to talk some more.

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Nam Gyu sat in a corner, his body motionless, his hands intertwined in front of his face. He was trying to ignore it. He was trying to ignore the discomfort that knotted in his stomach every time Thanos spoke to you. But then, Thanos spoke.

"Strange," he said, with his usual arrogant smile, his eyes cast toward the piggy bank. "I didn't think you were the type to let a woman like that go"

Nam Gyu did not react. Not right away. Thanos understood. He was high and only wanted to annoy him.

"Or maybe," he continued, tilting his head slightly, "you never really had her?"

A deep breath. Absolute control. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Why are you talking about things that don't concern you?"

Thanos laughed softly, with the confidence of someone who knows he has the upper hand. He leaned in slightly closer, as if deliberately trying to provoke him.

"Because it amuses me," he whispered. "Because I want her. Because you had her in your hands and threw her away like an idiot"

Nam Gyu clenched his jaw, still silence. Still checking. Yes, he was an idiot. Yes, he was wrong. Yes, his heart still burned for you.

"But maybe it was for the best," Thanos continued, the grin becoming more and more evident. "She is free now."

The bed creaked in an instant, Nam Gyu stood, his breath short, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes burning with pure rage. Thanos smiled even wider. "Ah, so you still feel something? What a surprise"

"Leave her alone"

Thanos stared at him, and for the first time a shadow of caution flashed in his eyes. He was only joking. "What is it you call her? Bunny? Bro, you're really fucked up to call her in your sleep. Maybe you should-"

Nam Gyu moved even closer, his gaze now a bottomless abyss. His sweatshirt sleeves were up, Thanos noticed his scars, from when he was piercing himself. He took his necklace with a dry gesture, opening it in front of him, Nam Gyu's eyes lit up with something all too intense.

Thanos studied him for a long moment, then tossed him the pill, the smile barely noticeable. "Don't worry, champion. I don't want any trouble. At least not yet"

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You could not sleep. The need to go to the bathroom had become impossible to ignore; you were so terrified that you hadn't thought about your physiological needs at all. You had risen cautiously, slipping away from your bed without a sound, moving like a shadow among the huddled bodies. You crossed the dark room, the faint red and blue lights on the floor were blinding. When you reached the door, the guard behind the glass looked impassive.

"You can't get out"

The metallic voice rang through the device, cold and impersonal. You paused, your breath suspended for a moment.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Your voice was firm, but your body tense, but the guard remained still. Not an ounce of sympathy. Clenching your fists, the idea of having to stay there, of being denied even that slightest freedom, made your blood boil in your veins.

"If you'd rather I do it here, be my guest and watch"

The guard did not move. He did not respond. Nervousness burned under your skin. Your instinct told you that you would never be able to convince him, because you couldn't even convince yourself. Do it in front of everyone, even if they were asleep? That was out of the question. But then, a presence behind you.

"What's the problem?"

His voice. Low. Deep. Strange. A shiver went down your spine even before you turned around. He was there, so close you could feel the heat behind you. His gaze, heavy as a mark on your skin, did not leave the guard in front of you.

"She just needs to go to the bathroom"

The guard did not move, "It is not allowed at night"

Nam Gyu took a step closer. "Not allowed?" His voice dropped a tone, becoming darker, more dangerous. "Either you let her pass, or we make a scene. But I guess you don't want to attract attention, right?"

The guard was impassive, as always, and he was so close, and you desperately needed the bathroom.

Nam Gyu looked at him as if he could break him in two with a single glance, resting his hand on your back. "Don't be an asshole," his voice was pure threat. "Open that door."

A second of absolute tension, then finally the guard opened the door. As soon as the door opened, Nam Gyu gently grabbed your wrist, guiding you out without another word. He walked in front of you, determined, his shoulders broad and tense. His grip on your wrist had barely loosened, but the contact between your skins was still there, alive, electric. Reaching the bathroom door, he stopped, you turned toward him, finally meeting his gaze. He was staring at you in a way that almost made you hold your breath.

His eyes were dilated, shiny, you remembered, because you had those eyes too, then you had decided that ruining your life was not the thing and stopped. Only when you had turned away from him had you felt the air lacking. So close, you could touch him, just reach out. All you had to do was ... No, you couldn't. Not now that you were both vulnerable.

"What an honor to know you still care about me," you barely whispered, he tightened his lips into a single line, he wanted to speak, he wanted to stop you. He wanted to... He didn't know anymore either. You had entered the bathroom not knowing that he had followed you quickly. You had done everything in a hurry, not wanting to upset the masked men.

Water ran over your cold hands as you rubbed them under the rusty jet of the sink, trying desperately to concentrate on the monotonous noise that echoed in the small room. But the only presence you could feel was his.

He was there, standing still against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his body relaxed in that silent arrogance that had always driven you crazy. His dark eyes watched you with an intensity that seemed to dig into you, making you feel vulnerable, as if he saw every thought hidden behind your impassive facade.

You knew he was watching you. He was devouring you with his eyes. You breathed deep, trying to find the voice to break that nerve-wracking wait.

"You can leave, you know"

The sound of your words echoed in the small room, but he did not move. Then he slowly left his position against the door and took a few steps toward you, slow, studied. Curse.

"Still playing hard to get" His voice was low, rough, with that undertone of danger you had come to know well. You felt your heart quicken as the reflection in the small mirror above the sink returned his figure to you, getting closer and closer. And then-the contact. His hands. Warm, sure, terribly familiar.

His hands rested on your hips with devastating naturalness, his fingers sliding lazily along the elastic of your sweatpants. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath jamming for an instant.

"Don't touch me. Back away," but you had arched your back so pathetically that your words betrayed themselves. He knew that your breathing had just changed. He knew that your body was already responding to his.

"Really?"

His tone was a challenge-laden whisper, his mouth close to your ear, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He moved even closer, his chest almost touching your back. The warmth of his body against yours made you shiver. And then, you felt it. His erection, how much he wanted you, and the tip of his thumb sliding slowly under the fabric of your panties. A very light, almost accidental touch.

You stiffened instantly, your fingers gripping around the edge of the sink tightly, as if it were the only thing holding you up.

"Stop it"

Nam Gyu smiled against your neck, a smile you couldn't see but felt all over.

"Lie"

His hand moved another inch, his fingers playing with the hem of the fabric, lazily caressing the soft skin beneath it. Your breath grew shorter, the heat spreading along your skin like a slow poison.

"You always said you hated it when I did that"

His voice was low, hypnotic, dangerously close.

"And I hate it." You tried to maintain control, to ignore the way your body responded to his touch. But he laughed softly, a deep sound that made you shudder.

"Stop your bullshit. Can't you hear how much I want you, bunny." That name. That damn name that had always made you melt.

You had bitten your lip, hating yourself for the way your body seemed to give out without you being able to stop it. Stop, stop, stop.

"Go away, Nam Gyu"

He did not move; rather, he let his lips barely graze the skin behind your ear, his hot breath making you tremble.

"Tell me you don't want this"

"Tell me you hate me"

You hated him. You hated him because he knew you would never say it. When his hand reached your opening, opening it with two fingers, your breath was ragged, you had rested your head on his shoulder you could see his face looking down at you.

"Is that a no?" he turned several times between your folds as he gave you pleasure and you closed your eyes. Maybe it was his twisted way of enjoying himself. Maybe he liked seeing you tremble under his intense gaze, knowing that he could destabilize you. Or maybe he simply wanted what he couldn't have.

"He's on you like a hungry dog," Nam Gyu had whispered, his voice low, laden with venom, as he kissed your neck. He was talking about Thanos, you knew; he was jealous because you were still his stuff.

"None of your business," you had replied, your heart pounding in your chest. He had removed his fingers from your pussy too quickly, grabbing your hair with a tug, you had already complained about his distance. "Yes it is my business. I see your face in my nightmares, I can't touch a woman after you anymore.... bunny, don't you understand?" his eyes were black, damned, you felt your intimacy melt deprived by your orgasm. But you were bursting.

"You reduce yourself to this! I am not a piece of meat! I loved you and you just exploited my weakness, my love to your liking!" before he could continue torturing you, his hand let go of your hair, you were looking at your bodies through the mirror, him behind you, and you trembling in front. Your pants slightly pulled down over your legs, his hand continuing to pull them down.

"You are more than a piece of meat"

"You didn't give me a way to think that, though" you had turned around, now you were face to face. His cheeks red, his eyes half-closed, as he grasped your cheeks with his palms as if to lock them in.

"Maybe we won't get out of here alive, bunny," he sighed, playing with your hair; it was the drug, you knew. "Maybe I'll die. But at least I was lucky enough to see you one last time"

"You're not in you. That's the drug talking"

Your still damp hands clenched against the fabric of his suit. You stared at him, your breath short, your eyes struggling to stay cold, not to betray the fire he always managed to ignite. He smiled. A game. Always the same, the one where he pushed and you tried to resist. Only this time the bathroom walls seemed to close in on you, the breath of both of you was too close, and the air was thick with something you could no longer ignore.

"You're always the same," he continued, his tone softer, almost bitter. "Always ready to say no to me"

You didn't know what to say, you were like stuck, still too shaken.

"You like to drive me crazy, don't you?"

You didn't have time to answer. His hands closed around your face, "Please, bunny, kiss me" It was that closeness you knew, it was that you couldn't stand it anymore, to say enough. It was the fear, the fear of dying in a place like that. It was too strong, and painful but his lips touched yours without any warning. It was a violent, hungry, angry kiss. No gentleness, no attempt to hold back. Just years of anger, repressed desire and unspoken words exploding all at once.

Your fingers slid into his hair, squeezing hard as his body pushed you against the sink again. Your mouths sought each other, taking, biting.

He moaned against your lips, his tongue sank deeper into your mouth, as if he wanted to claim you, as if he wanted to remind you that, in spite of everything, he had never really let you go.

And the worst of it was that you didn't want to stop him. Never. Not even when he turned you over for the second time, and bent you over the cold sink, his erection pressing against your butt was just yet another signal about how much he was treating himself. How many times he had dreamed that you were the woman he had between the sheets, your face, your hair, your lips.

"Nam Gyu," you had said, trying not to wince as he slid down your sweatpants and panties. His body was pressed against your bottom, his hair in front of his face and his hands clasped around your hips.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" was a rhetorical question, sure enough, your head was foggy and your legs gave out. You were all wet, he found it funny. It was sloppy, all so fast, his breath on your neck and the tip of his cock already inside you. You lifted your butt higher toward him, because you wanted more, you were addicted, "Fuck"

"How I had missed your voice" he muttered, as his hand grabbed your hair, pulling you back toward him kissing your neck. You weren't protesting, you couldn't do anything more, you were exhausted and confused completely loose under him. His hands were everywhere, reaching for your breasts under your bra.

"Hurry the fuck up, I'm going crazy"

Your breath took away as he began to giggle and then grabbed you with far too much force as he fucked you in that fatal position. It was your head spinning, sweat soaked into your forehead. You felt it all, his tongue on your neck and moans against your ear. You were so hungry for him but so little in control of your person, "We are both doomed, you know, bunny"

"I know"

You had been struck by time, out of control, and for that night you had been his again. He couldn't get enough of it. Then a soft knock against the door. There were a few thrusts, unrestrained like animals possessing themselves. He stepped out of your frustrated womanhood, pulling your hair back from your neck and laying a chaste kiss on it. You had rested your head on the sink, your cheek flattened, and your face formulated a small smile. Your legs completely filled with him. You were cursed, yes. You were alive, again.

"I love you"

MASTERLIST.

#squid game #nam gyu x reader #nam gyu x you #nam gyu #player 124 #player 124 x reader #squid game x reader #smut #nam gyu smut #namgyu squid game #namgyu fanfic #namgyu smut #thanos #thanos x reader #squid game season 2 #player 124 smut #player 124 x y/n

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paddockletters · 5 hours ago

Text

study session | charles leclerc

summary: charles misses you (not that he’d admit it), but when studying keeps you too distracted, he finds a way to steal your attention. request: yessss! thank you hope y’all like it

Charles has always been needy when it comes to you. He won’t admit it, of course, but the evidence is clear.

Like now—where he’s supposedly at your apartment to “keep you company” while you study, but in reality, he’s just here to be a menace.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, textbooks and notes spread around you, highlighter tucked between your fingers as you try to focus. Charles, meanwhile, is sprawled across your bed, bored out of his mind.

"Are you done yet?"

You don’t even look up. "No, Charles."

A beat of silence.

"How about now?"

You sigh, highlighting another sentence. "No."

Another pause. Then, he groans dramatically. "This is torture. I came all this way just to be ignored?"

"You came here on your own," you remind him, flipping a page.

"You should be grateful,” he mutters. “Most people would kill for my presence.”

"Lucky me." You snort.

You don’t have to look up to know he’s pouting. And then—silence.

Suspicious silence.

You finally glance up, only to choke on air.

Charles is standing in the middle of your room, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Go on, doctor,” Charles smirks, stretching as he leans back on his hands. "Start your examination."

You refuse to look at him. Absolutely not. You have textbooks to read, notes to review, an exam to pass.

“Charles,” you grit through clenched teeth, gripping your pen just a little too hard. “Put your shirt back on.”

“What?” He blinks, feigning innocence. "You need a realistic study session, no?"

You groan, slamming your textbook shut and covering your face with it. “You’re impossible.”

Charles just laughs and that makes your stomach flip. He’s doing this on purpose.

You peek over your book, only to find him watching you, amused. His entire posture is relaxed, like he has all the time in the world to mess with you. And he does—he always does this when he’s bored, finding new ways to distract you, tease you, get under your skin.

“So where’s my most important bone?” he teases, tilting his head as if he’s actually being helpful.

Your brain malfunctions.

“W-What?”

“My most important bone,” Charles repeats, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I assume you know where it is, no?”

Your eyes widen, and Charles’ smirk only grows as he watches your mind go straight to hell.

“You are—” you huff, trying to shove him away, but he catches your wrist, grinning.

“Careful, doctor.” He tuts playfully. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your patient, would you?”

Your patience is hanging by a thread.

“You are not my patient,” you mutter.

Charles hums, pretending to think. “But I could be. Imagine, I come in with an injury, and you have to take care of me. You’d be so gentle, no?”

You swallow hard. “You’re so annoying.”

Charles leans in way too close, looking entirely too smug for someone who’s supposed to be helping you study. “I just like being a good student. Ask me anything.”

You sigh. “Fine. What’s the largest bone in the body?”

Charles opens his mouth, then closes it. “Uhhhh—”

You smirk. “You don’t know, do you?”

“I do,” he says defensively. “It’s… the leg one.”

You roll your eyes. “The femur, dumbass.”

Charles gasps dramatically. “You’re such a mean doctor.”

“I’d be a lot nicer if you actually let me study.”

Charles grins, but before he can retort, your phone vibrates with a text.

You glance at Charles, only to find him reading over your shoulder, his eyes narrowing at the texts.

“Who’s texting you?” he asks, far too casual.

You lock your phone. “No one.”

Charles squints at you. “No one?”

“No one,” you repeat firmly.

A pause. Then—

“Is it that med student you always talk about?”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

“That guy,” Charles says, crossing his arms. “The one you’re always studying with.”

You blink. “You mean Liam?”

“Oh, so his name is Liam.”

“Charles,” you say slowly, biting back a laugh. “Are you jealous?”

Charles scoffs. “No.”

You grin. “You totally are.”

“I’m not,” he insists, jaw clenching.

You lean in slightly, smirking. “Charles, you’re jealous.”

Charles avoids your gaze, muttering something in French under his breath. He’s 100% jealous.

You tilt your head playfully. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t even like Liam like that?”

Charles perks up immediately. “You don’t?”

“No,” you laugh.

Charles nods once, clearly pleased. Then, without missing a beat—

“So I’m your favorite?”

You stare. “That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant.”

“Oh my God.”

He grins. “Just admit it, doctor. I’m your favorite patient.”

You groan, shoving him off the bed.

Charles lands with a thud, laughing as he sprawls out on your bedroom floor like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You, however, are one exasperated breath away from throwing your textbook at his stupidly perfect face.

“I’m trying to study,” you remind him, pointing at your notes as if that’ll make him take you seriously.

Charles, still lying on your floor, stretches his arms above his head, shamelessly showing off the definition in his abs. “And I’m trying to help.”

“You’re being a menace.” You roll your eyes, refusing to look.

“I like that you think I’m distracting.” He smirks.

You groan. “You’re insufferable.”

Charles props himself up on his elbows, watching you. “Come on, just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That I’m your favorite.”

You don’t answer.

Because the problem isn’t that he’s wrong.

The problem is that he’s absolutely right.

Charles has been your favorite for a long, long time. But admitting that? Giving him the satisfaction? Not happening.

“I’m not answering that,” you mumble, flipping through your notes as if your entire body isn’t burning up from his gaze.

Charles smirks, sensing your hesitation.

“Okay,” he says, getting up and stretching once more—because apparently, he needs to remind you how ridiculously good-looking he is. Then, before you can react, he plops down beside you again, way too close, his bare shoulder brushing yours.

Your breath catches.

“Let’s do a test,” Charles says suddenly, his voice dipping slightly.

You blink. “What?”

“A test,” he repeats, his eyes glinting with something dangerous, something that makes your heart speed up. “I’ll quiz you. If you get it wrong, you admit I’m your favorite.”

You narrow your eyes. “And if I get it right?”

Charles smirks. “Then I’ll put my shirt back on.”

Your mouth opens, then closes. It’s a trap.

Because either way, you lose.

Still, your competitive streak won’t let you back down. “Fine.”

Charles grins, shifting even closer. “Alright, doctor,” he muses. “What’s the smallest bone in the human body?”

You exhale sharply, relieved. He chose an easy one.

“The stapes,” you answer confidently.

Charles tilts his head, eyes flickering with amusement. “And where is it?”

“In the middle ear.”

“Are you sure?”

You give him a pointed look. “Yes, Charles. I’m sure.”

He laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. You win this round.”

You smirk. “Shirt. On. Now.”

Charles grabs his shirt… but doesn’t move to put it on. Instead, he leans in, his voice dropping into something softer, something dangerous.

“Last chance,” he murmurs. “Are you sure you don’t want to lose?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Your entire body betrays you—the way your breath hitches, the way your fingers tighten around your notes, the way you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his mouth.

And Charles? He sees it all.

He knows.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to look back at your textbook. “I think we’re done here.”

Charles chuckles, finally pulling his shirt over his head. “For now.”

He leans back on your bed, clearly satisfied with himself.

And you?

You pretend like you’re not thinking about his lips.

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riorsonhouse · 7 hours ago

Text

in the archives

k, so. i decided to post this because why not? i don't know if this idea has been done before, i just could NOT stop thinking about it. like, being a scribe and having sex in the archives, on top of the books no less??

i wrote this at work, on my phone so if the grammar is crazy and things aren't capitalized i'm sorry. if i wrote this on a computer, it would probably look a lot different.

this is really just porn without plot, like i really sat down and wrote ~2k words of smut. not proofread or anything either so again i'm sorry.

minors DNI, please and thank you

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

it’s late, much later than you promised yourself but these books aren't going to read themselves, and you really need to study. the entire space you're occupying is covered with books, no space left on the table as you try your best to absorb as much information as you possibly can.

you rub your tired eyes, trying to focus on the ancient text in front of you. the words are starting to blur together, and you can feel the beginnings of a headache forming at your temples. you've been staring at the pages so long you fear you may start to hallucinate. vaguely you hear the sound of footsteps, and you know you may have to call it a night soon.

no, those are actual footsteps.

heavy footfalls come walking towards you, you only glance up ever so slightly, just enough to notice the Rider black the person is wearing, you sigh.

“Riders are not allowed to be here right now,” you start the speech you've uttered a million times now, anytime a Rider wanders in well past their allotted time. “you can return at a later time when the Archives…” you trail off when you look up completely and meet Xaden’s eyes. he’s got his signature smirk on his face, the on that makes your heart skip a beat.

you glance around quickly, making sure there's no one else in the Archives at this late hour. your heart is racing, both from his presence and the thrill of doing something you probably shouldn't. the way he's looking at you makes your breath catch in your throat.

“how did you even get…?” your question hangs in the air, because Xaden can do anything he sets his mind to. “did you need something?”

“that's a loaded question,” he counters, and then he's standing next to you, looking over your shoulder at the many, many books you have spread out.

“what are you reading?” he asks, bending so that his lips are right at your ear. “anything interesting?” his hands find themselves on your waist.

“maybe not for you, but to me, this is all interesting.”

he laughs lightly, turning his head and kissing the side of your neck gently. “are you at a place where you can take a break?”

“maybe…” you lean into his touch, almost forgetting for a second where you are.

“i’ve been thinking about you all day,” he says, his voice low and rough. his warm breath tickles your skin as his lips brush against your ear.

"let me show you just how much i've missed you," he whispers, and the sound sends shivers down your spine. you can barely form a coherent thought as his hands begin to wander, exploring your body with a familiarity that makes your heart race.

“we're in the middle of the Archives,” your voice betrays how aroused you are. you want to sound firm, but your words come out heavy, laced with your desire for him, even if you are doing something that would easily get you kicked out of the Quadrant.

“looks to me like we're surrounded by bookshelves,” he he slowly brings his hands up your body, stopping just below your breasts, waiting to see if you're comfortable. “and you're the only Scribe dedicated enough to be in here this late…”

his flattery makes you roll your eyes, but you find yourself leaning more into his touch, his body is all muscle behind you, his scent is filling your nose and making it hard to think. he reaches up to cup one of your breasts then, and a small moan from you has him nearly melting.

“can i taste you?” he asks, bring his hands back down to your waist. you nod, not trusting your voice to not squeak. “you're all i think about at night when i have my hands on my cock,” he says, moving away from you slightly, you almost want to complain about the loss of contact but you shudder as he bends down, gathering up your robes to pull them up over your hips, exposing your underwear.

“i think of the sounds you make,” he stands up again, kissing your neck again, his tongue wet against your flushed skin. “how tight you feel wrapped around me when you come.”

you very nearly moan at his words, he’s always been vocal, but gods. you feel the rush of arousal flow through your body, settling low in your stomach.

his palm touches your lower back, gently sliding up between your shoulders, pressing your upper body forward. you find yourself laying on top of the tome you were studying.

“Xaden, these-” your breath hitches as he lightly kicks your feet apart, leaving your legs spread. you clear your throat, his fingers pull down your underwear, the cool air hits your core and you shiver.

“Xaden, these books are older than Basgiath.” it's a warning, but you're not sure who you're giving it to. he certainly doesn't care, he's sinking to his knees behind you.

“we have to be careful around- oh,” your words die in your throat, a moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it as he licks from your clit to your entrance with a broad swipe of his tongue.

there's a deep rumble of a moan that escapes from his mouth, and the vibration of his has your knees weakening. you turn your head enough to see him, and the sight of him on his knees behind you pushes you even closer to an orgasm.

you feel his fingers at your entrance and you know you won't last much longer. there's just something about his fingers that always does you in, he’s magical with them. he pushes two inside you, curling them against the spot that has you seeing stars. with his fingers buried deep inside you, his mouth goes back to your clit, sucking lightly at the sensitive bud, and that's what pushes you over the edge.

“i’m gonna- fuck, Xaden, i’m-” your orgasm steals your words, but he knew you were going to come anyways, you could feel his smirk against your pussy.

he lets you catch your breath for a moment, he stands up and cleans his face a bit before he helps you stand up and turn around to face him. he looks handsome like this, under the mage lights having just eaten you out.

you reach up, running your fingers through his dark hair, tugging gently as he leans down to kiss you. his tongue traces your bottom lip, asking for entrance that you gladly give. you can feel him hard against your thigh, the evidence of his own arousal making you ache with need all over again.

“you're…really good at that,” it's all you can get out. there’s no other words for what he just did. he chuckles slightly at your comment.

"i'm always happy to show you just how good i can be for you," he says, his voice low and gravelly. he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear, making you shiver with anticipation.

he lifts you enough to set your ass on the table. you move some of the more important books away, in your haste, one gets knocked off the table, a gasp almost leaves your mouth as you watch it fall only to be scooped up and deposited on a nearby table by shadows. Xaden’s lips are on yours a half a heartbeat later.

the kiss is all heat, swirling tongues and moans. you can taste yourself on him, and it's so sinful and so filthy you feel yourself clench around nothing, a whimper falling from your mouth. you reach down towards his pants, fighting with trembling hands to get them down.

his hard cock springs free and you both take a deep breath. his hands grip your thighs and he pulls you towards the edge of the table so that he can line himself up with your entrance. he runs the head of his cock through your folds once, twice, coating himself in your release before he angles himself downward and sinks into you in one fluid motion.

the fullness is almost overwhelming, but it feels so good it nearly takes your breath away. “Xaden,” you sigh, your head ripping back in pleasure as he starts up a solid pace. with one hand on your hip to hold you steady, he grabs you by the back of the neck with the other, lifting your head back to face him.

“look at me when i’m fucking you,” he says, accentuating his request with sharper pushes of his hips, his hand reaching bf between you to rub against your clit. “wanna see the pretty faces you make when you take my cock.”

the only sounds in the Archives is your wetness, both of your moans, and the sound of skin slapping together, the mixture of it all turning you on more, only adding to the sound more. Xaden’s eyes wander your body as he fucks you, but when his eyes travel down to where you're connected, where his cock is pounding in and out of you he nearly crumbles.

“look at you, you're doing so good for me, taking me so well,” his praise shamelessly goes straight to your clit.

“and you’re doing it right here in the Archives, anyone could walk in a see you right now. i could bathe us in shadows so we're hidden but,” he pulls out suddenly, flipping you back onto your stomach, you use your hands for leverage and arch your back, he slide back in and begins his pace again. the wind nearly leaves you at how deep he is from this angle. “you wouldn't want that though, would you? i bet you want someone walk in and see me fucking you like the little slut you are.”

the moan you let out is guttural. every thrust of his hips sends his cock deeper and deeper inside of you and he's all you can think of. Xaden floods all your senses until you're nothing more than a whimpering mess on the table for him.

his hands are gripping your hips so tightly you know there will be bruises tomorrow, but you can't bring yourself to care. you can feel another orgasm building rapidly, your walls fluttering around his thick cock as he drives into you mercilessly. "Xaden, please, i'm so close," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper.

his pace falters a little bit, his thrusts growing sloppier and he chases his own orgasm.

"come for me," he commands, his voice rough with need. "come on my cock." his words combined with a particularly deep thrust send you over the edge, your second orgasm washing over you in waves of pleasure. your walls clench around him rhythmically, and with a deep groan, he follows you over the edge, spilling inside you as his hips stutter to a stop.

for a few seconds after, you both stay there panting. there's ringing in your ears, and you're fairly certain that if you tried to move, you'd simply fall over. eventually, brought back to earth by Xaden pressing soft kisses along your back, over your clothing. it's a sweet gesture that's vastly different from what he was just doing.

he pulls out gently, and you nearly whimper at the loss of him. he helps you stand, and you can feel your knees shaking slightly. with gentle hands, he helps you fix your clothing, pressing one last soft kiss to your temple. you take a moment to straighten up the books on the table, making sure nothing was damaged during your activities.

he pulls his pants back up, tucking himself back in. “are the books okay?” he asks, you're certain he's mostly joking but you answer anyways.

"they're fine," you say with a small laugh, running your fingers over the spines of the books. "though i should probably get back to studying now."

he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "or we could go back to my room and continue this somewhere more... comfortable."

“let's not push our luck too much in one night,” you say, kissing him quickly, “zihnal has been kind enough to us so far, let's not test his patience,”

Xaden chuckles, his breath warm against your neck. "as you wish," he says, pressing one final kiss to your shoulder before stepping back. "but don't study too late. i'll see you tomorrow?"

you nod, but you can't honestly say you will. the odds of you and Xaden being able to see each other regularly are not great, but you both like to pretend regardless. “see you tomorrow.”

he leaves quietly, his footsteps fading into the depths of the Archives. you turn back to your studies, but your mind keeps drifting to the warmth of his touch, the taste of his kiss. with a sigh, you force yourself to focus on the ancient text before you, knowing that these precious moments with him are all you can have for now.

#xaden riorson fanfic #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson #xaden riorson smut #fourth wing #xaden riorson fic #xaden riorson imagine #xaden x reader #fourth wing fanfic

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speaknow-sw · 2 days ago

Note

ok ok hear me out- sexting with hayden, when hes at a con

like you stayed home at the farm, while he went to like a con (not in cali otherwise you wouldve gone) but you send him a mirror selfie of you just in one of his plaid button down shirts with it buttoned up but with nothing else on and you just say "i really miss you", like youre not even trying to be "sexy" or anything and when he gets it he just smiles, but then he keeps staring at it and can see like the outline of your boobs and instantly gets hard and then like YA JUST GOES FROM THERE AHHHH

OMG SO GOOD UGHHH MY THIGHS ARE DRENCHED

Hayden stood in the bustling convention hall, surrounded by the noise of chatter and the flashing of cameras as fans and paparazzi alike vied for his attention. He flashed a charming smile and waved, signing autographs and posing for photos, all while his mind wandered to the quiet solitude of his farm back home.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced down at the screen, expecting the usual flood of social media notifications or messages from his team. Instead, he saw your name and a preview of a mirror selfie you'd sent. His heart skipped a beat as he tapped on the message, bringing it to full screen.

There you were, your beautiful face filling the frame, surrounded by the soft plaid of one of his old button-down shirts. It was obvious you weren't wearing anything else, the outline of your curves visible beneath the thin fabric. Hayden felt his breath catch in his throat, his pulse quickening as a wave of desire washed over him.

He glanced around, making sure no one was watching too closely, then slid the phone into his pocket. He couldn't stop staring at the photo, his mind racing with thoughts of you, the softness of your skin, the scent of his shirt mixed with your own, the way it would feel to slip his hands beneath the hem...

Hayden shifted his weight, subtly adjusting himself as he felt a stirring in his jeans. He knew it wasn't the time or place, but he couldn't deny the effect your simple, heartfelt message had on him. He missed you too, more than you could possibly know.

With a deep breath, he typed out a quick reply, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to focus on the screen amidst the chaos of the convention.

"God, I miss you too, baby. You have no idea what that photo is doing to me right now. I can't wait to get home and show you just how much I've missed you. Love you more than words can say. Xoxo"

He hit send, already counting down the minutes until he could hold you in his arms again. Until then, your photo would be his secret treasure, a reminder of the love waiting for him at home.

“Why don’t you show me now, big boy ?” You replied naughtily.

Hayden's heart raced as he read your daring reply, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He glanced around the convention hall, realizing the risk of getting caught in a compromising position. But the temptation of indulging your request was too strong to resist.

Unable to hold back, he ducked into a nearby alcove, the dim lighting casting shadows across his face as he typed out a response with shaking fingers.

"Oh, you naughty girl. You're playing with fire, teasing me like this. I'm in the middle of a crowded convention, with fans and paparazzi everywhere… and all I can think about is pinning you against the wall of our bedroom, slipping my hands beneath that shirt you're wearing, feeling your bare skin beneath my fingertips…"

He paused, his breath coming faster as he imagined the scenario, his jeans growing increasingly tighter.

"I'd start at your neck, my lips trailing kisses down to your collarbone, my teeth grazing your skin. I'd work my way down, slipping a button free, then another, until your shirt was open and my mouth was on your breasts, worshipping them, tasting them, until you were writhing beneath me…"

Hayden's grip tightened on the phone, his heart pounding in his chest as he continued.

"I'd slip my hands around your waist, pulling you flush against me, letting you feel just how much I want you. I'd grab your ass, squeezing it, kneading the flesh as I grinded my hips against yours. I'd walk you backwards until your back hit the wall, my body trapping you there as my mouth found yours, kissing you deeply, passionately, claiming you as mine…"

He hit send, his chest heaving as he waited for your response, his body aching with need. He knew he was taking a risk, but he couldn't deny you anything. Not when it came to showing you just how much he loved and desired you.

Hayden's phone buzzed again, and he glanced down at the screen with bated breath. When he saw the preview of your new message, his heart stopped. With shaking fingers, he opened the attachment, and his eyes widened as he took in the breathtaking sight before him.

There you were, in all your glorious nakedness, the soft plaid of his shirt now pooled on the floor beneath you. Your skin glowed in the soft lighting, curves and valleys inviting him to explore every inch of your body. Hayden's mouth went dry, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly parched lips.

He could feel the heat building in his core, his cock straining against the confines of his jeans as he drank in the exquisite image. The convention hall faded away, the noise and chatter dissolving into a distant hum, until all he could focus on was you, and the all-consuming desire coursing through his veins.

With a low groan, he typed out a response, his fingers flying across the screen as he poured out his thoughts.

"Fuck, baby, you're absolutely stunning. Seeing you like this, wrapped in nothing but my shirt, your beautiful body on full display… it's almost too much to take. I'm so hard it hurts, my cock throbbing and aching for your touch."

He paused, his breath coming in short gasps as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control.

"I want to worship every inch of your skin, to map out every curve and contour with my hands and my mouth. I want to kiss and lick and suck on your breasts until you're begging for more, until you're dripping with need."

Hayden's grip tightened on the phone, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to touch himself right then and there. But he wanted to save that pleasure for you, to make you watch as he brought himself to the brink of ecstasy, all for your viewing pleasure.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard when I get home, baby. I'm going to take you in every room of the house, on every surface and in every corner. I'll make love to you slowly and tenderly, savoring every moment, until we're both drunk on pleasure and exhausted from exertion."

#hayden christensen #evie answers

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communicationthroughlyrics · 2 days ago

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I Work Too Hard, Can You Fuckin' Pay Me?

Part 13 - Y/N moved to escape some of thier looming troubles from Westview, to the place that their best friend said would make a difference. New job, new digs, will Y/N make a change for the better, or leave another city with their tail between their legs?

TW: Angst is turning up a notch

Word Count: 2.1K

Read Pt. 1 HERE Read Pt. 2 HERE Read Pt. 3 HERE Read Pt. 4 HERE Read Pt. 5 HERE Read Pt. 6 HERE Read Pt. 7 HERE Read Pt. 8 HERE Read Pt. 9 HERE Read Pt. 10 HERE Pt. 11 HERE Pt. 12 HERE

A Prisoner By My Own Hands

You spent a couple of hours going over all that had happened in Westview. From your womanizer habits that got you kicked out of high school, and had you placed into alternative schooling, your parents kicked you out at 16 and essentially forced you to grow up fast. To Carol, your first true relationship, the older woman led you through the trials and tribulations of adulthood unbecoming. When she left you for a 'more mature, fitting relationship' in another country, you were heartbroken.

You began sleeping around, bringing a different girl or woman home every night, hoping to fill the void that Carol had left in your heart. Many parties with Pietro, and finally one of you had settled down. Pietro was wildly in love with the older woman, and you were eyeing her stepdaughter. But amidst the games, Pietro got hurt and decided it was best to leave, knowing he couldn't stay away from Val if he didn't. Val came over to your place, looking for him, but in reality, she wanted you.

She twisted the moments of vulnerability, making it seem as though she was heartbroken, and you were the rebound. You had felt used and disgusting, having slept with the woman your best friend had sworn was the one. In your disgust, you seduced her stepdaughter, fucking her on every surface imaginable in thier house, Val coming home in the middle of your lusty, anger-fueled stupor.

You told Wanda how anticipated Val to be angry, to yell, to scream at you- force you out of her house. But she didn’t. Instead, she sat there, staring at you with an energy you couldn't quite place at the time. You know it now as a challenge. She watched as you fucked her stepdaughter, before quite literally stepping between you both to fix herself a drink. Once you were done with Maria, Val cornered you, forcing herself onto you.

From that day, you were caught between the two, often time fucking one, before sneaking out of the room to the other. Part of you enjoyed it, the thrill of the forbidden, the other part of you felt dirty, like you had betrayed not only your best friend but yourself. It went on for weeks until you got caught leaving Val's room one night by none other than her husband, and her stepdaughter, hickeys adorning your neck, hair mussed, and flush cheeks.

The look of betrayal on everyone's faces, the ensuing argument and boxing match with her husband, the look of disgust on Val's face as you're kicked out of the house, clothing torn, beaten, bruised, and abused. Val had no shame, and she doubled down. She spread the word of how you seduced her and twisted everyone's perception of what happened into her benefit. How she had been completely oblivious to you sleeping with her stepdaughter when often times she would lick her daughters arousal off you as she fucked you.

You had left Westview with no friends, no family, and no self respect. You had moved across the country to get away from the whispers and the glares of everyone who knew what had happened. But here you were, back in her orbit. You had hoped that with enough time and distance that Val would forget about you, move on, find some new toy to play with. But she was back, and she had her sights set on you once again.

Wanda sat, despondent, as you detailed the lies, manipulation, and blackmail that the woman put you through. She knew some since Val had done the same to her brother, lying and manipulating him throughout thier relationship. She had been so deceitful to Pietro that he had no clue that Val was married. When he found out, that is when he left town.

But knowing that Val had played you too, used you as some sort of twisted revenge on her own stepdaughter and her now ex-husband, it brought a new kind of anger to the forefront. "How could you, Y/N?" she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "How could you let her do this to you? You watched her, destroy Piet. You warned him, I know you did. And then you decide to fuck her and her daughter? God," she shook her head, her now stressed demeanor and tense frame exuding a nervous energy that honestly could be cut with a spoon. Her lithe fingers ran through her tressed hair, her gaze avoiding yours.

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, the weight of Wanda's words like a sledgehammer to the chest. "Wands, I didn't mean for it to happen like that. I just, I was hurt too, and got lost in the feeling of being wanted. At least, that's what I thought it was."

Wanda stood, pacing the room, "But you knew better! You knew what she was capable of!" She stopped in her tracks, whipping around to face you. "You knew the pain she had caused my brother and you still went there?!" Her voice was raised now, echoing off the walls of her living room. "And now," she began pacing again, her hands running through her hair excessively as you watched her. "Now, she is here, to prove a point. God knows what this point is, but she is here nonetheless."

You watched her, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. "What do we do?" you murmured.

Wanda stopped pacing, her eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you saw the Wanda you had heard about in high school, and in Piets stories. The fiery, stubborn woman who will torch the earth to protect the ones she loves. "We? No, no, no, Y/N. You. You need to fix this." She spun on her heel, moving away from you. "This is your mess, and you need to deal with it. And the first thing you need to do, is come clean with Pietro."

Your heart sank, "But, Wanda-"

"No," she cut you off sharply. "You need to tell him everything. You can't keep playing these games with everyone's hearts, especially not his. He deserves the truth, no matter how hard it is. He thought he was in love with that woman, and then you fucked her. Then her daughter-"

"Stepdaughter."

"It doesn't fucking matter, Y/N! It's fucked! No matter how you look at this, and no matter how much she fucked with you, this is still fucked up of you."

You felt your chest tighten at her words, knowing that she had a right to be angry, but hoping she could find a shred of understanding. "I know," you said, your voice thick with regret. "I know it's messed up," your voice coming out almost unrecognizable, small, as you tried to talk to the woman you had grown so close to in the past months. You could feel the tears in your eyes building as you thought about losing Wanda and Pietro too. "Wanda, I just need support. I know what needs to be done, but I need help. I need you."

Wanda's expression softened slightly, the anger in her eyes fading into something more complex. "You need help? From me? After all this?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of your own words. "I know we haven't known each other long, but I feel most comfortable, most stable when I am with you. I don't know how to do this without you, Wands. I don't want to go through this alone again, I will lose myself."

Wanda sighed heavily, turning to look out the window. Her reflection was cast onto the glass, showing the turmoil playing out across her features. "I don't know if I can, Y/N," she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. "This is... it's a lot. We are still in a fairly new relationship, if we want to call this," she motioned between the both of you. "That."

You stepped closer, reaching for her again, but she held up a hand, stopping you in your tracks. "I can't, Y/N. I need some space. To think, to process. You can't just throw this shit at me and expect me to be okay with it. You have to deal with this. You have to tell him, Y/N. You can't keep hiding from him. He's your best fucking friend."

Wanda's words were like a knife to your gut, but you knew she was right. You nodded, feeling the gravity of the situation settle over you like a heavy blanket. "I'll tell him," you murmured. "I'll tell him everything."

Turning away from the window, she faced you, her eyes searching yours. "And what if he doesn't forgive you?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the tightness in your chest. "Then I'll accept it," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I have to try. Like you've said, he is my best friend. And the only family I have."

Wanda studied you, her expression unreadable. "Okay," she finally said. "But if he doesn't, you can't come to me, and expect me to change his mind."

You nodded solemnly. "I won't. I'll handle it."

Wanda turned away, moving towards her kitchen, "I need some tea," she murmured, the tension in her voice still palpable. "Do you want some?"

Wanda's 180 shot confusion across your features. "Didn't you just want me out of here?" you asked, unsure if you'd heard her correctly.

"Yes," she said, her voice tight. "But I also know that you're not going anywhere without a plan. And if you're going to tell him, I need to be prepared for whatever happens next."

You followed her into the kitchen, feeling like you were walking on eggshells. The room was warm and cozy, filled with the comforting scent of herbs and mint as the kettle began to whistle. Wanda moved with purpose, her movements sharp and precise as she grabbed two mugs from the cabinet and a box of tea bags. She didn't look at you, and the silence between you was as palpable as the tension.

"Wanda," you said softly, your voice cracking as you watched her move around the kitchen. You watched as she took a deep breath, resting her hands on either side of the sink to gaze out the window before her.

"Yes?" she asked, not turning around.

"I know," you sighed, trying to collect your thoughts before continuing. "I know that I told you I was messed up. I know that Pietro told you the same thing," you began, your breath catching as she spun and crossed her arms over her chest, a dark stare shooting across the kitchen towards you. "But I want you to know that I didn't just leave Westview because of these situations I caused, and what I put myself in. I left so I could become a better person. So I could change. I am not that same person, Wanda. You have to know that."

Wanda's eyes searched yours, the anger slowly draining away, replaced by a sadness that made your heart ache. She didn't say anything, but the way she looked at you spoke volumes. You knew that she was hurt, that she felt betrayed, and that she was trying to understand. You felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world, standing in front of her, but you had to keep going. You had to make her understand.

"I know, Y/N. But with all of this information, it's really hard to believe that." You let out a deep breath, dropping your head as you stared at your feet. You heard a shuffling, looking up as Wanda poured the steaming water into two mugs before grabbing a spoon for the sugar and milk. She walked over to you, handing you the warm porcelain. She stopped, a contemplative look on her face before she turned back to you. Her hand reached out, rubbing your chest before she stepped away.

"Look, I know it's not fair of me to ask you to trust me after this, but I swear to you, on everything I am, that I have changed. I never wanted to hurt you, or anyone for that matter."

Wanda's eyes searched yours, the sadness in them deepening as she took the mug of tea you offered her. "I want to believe you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "But you need to understand that this isn't something I can just... put behind me."

You nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I know it's a lot to ask," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "But I promise, from the bottom of my heart, I will make this right. And as much as I need Piet in my life, I need you too, Wanda."

#communicatethrulyrics #wlw fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #lesbian nsft #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff

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leaawrites · 2 days ago

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Spoil me

Noel Gallagher x fem!actress!reader

Summary: Noel takes her out to go shopping after he finished up his new album.

Warnings: fluffy, angst, swearing, (this is part four to a series, can be read as a standalone though)

Wordcount: 0.8k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Masterlist

Sitting on the sofa, switching between the different programs on the telly, she bore herself to death. Wishing for Noel to get out of his little home studio and entertain her in one way or another.

Just as she switched back to the news and groaning when they showed the same thing as a week prior, she heard the door to Noel’s studio opening. The man walking out with a grin on his face as he stepped over to her and kissed her before telling her, “get ready, we’re going out.”

“What? Where are we going?” She asked, although already standing up and walking to the closet to change out of her joggers.

“I just finished the album, and we’re gonna celebrate a little,” he said, pulling her closer in the middle of the stairs. Looking happier than ever before.

“You just finished it? That’s great, Noel. I told you, you shouldn’t pressure yourself. It’ll be great, I can feel it.” Throwing her arms around his shoulders, Noel chuckled into her neck.

“Darling, you’ve already heard every song beside the last one.”

“Still, I’ve never heard it fully. Front to back,” she insisted before continuing her way up.

“So, where are we going? How should I dress?” She asked, flicking through her rows of clothes. Looking over the stacks of tops and bottoms. Trying to remember what looked good together.

“Casual’s alright. It’s nothing too crazy,” Noel shrugged, a smile spreading on his face as he saw the glimmer of curiosity lingering in her eyes.

“Casual my ass,” she muttered as she found herself in front of the Chanel Store. Looking down the road she could make out all kinds of high fashion logos and Noel standing next to her with an excited smile on his face.

“C’mon let’s go.” He urged her inside, pulling her from the space where she seemed to be stuck in inside the store.

“Why do you seem more excited than me?” She asked with a giggle as she saw him looking at her again.

“Let’s just let me spoil you for once, love,” he insisted, walking further inside.

The whole day was spent with spending money. His money. Even when she would insist on buying something he’d have his card out faster than her already paying for a new dress or shoes or a bag.

“I can’t believe you,” she muttered as they walked out of the last store, for the first time registering just how many bags Noel was carrying for her. “You’re insane.”

“Darling, I’m not the one with expensive taste.” A familiar smirk crept on his lips.

��Right,” she said, pulling him into a kiss to make it disappear from his face. “Liam’s the one buying Gucci parkas.”

“He’s a slut for anything half decent,” Noel insisted as they walked back to the car.

Putting the bags in the trunk and climbing inside, Noel looked at her in the driver seat.

“You know we have a driver, right? You don’t always have to drive everywhere.” Looking at her like he was unsure if this was new information he just dumped on her.

Though the bored look on her face told him otherwise as she checked the rear view.

“I like driving, is that a crime?” She asked, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the busy streets of London.

“No, not at all. Was just wondering if you knew,” he said, raising his hands in surrender and laughing at her tone.

“I know and I don’t care.”

Opening the door to their house, they were both packed fully. Designer bags hanging from their arms, laughing as they stumbled through the door after Noel almost didn’t get it open.

Letting them rest by the entrance for now, they both sank down on the sofa rather messily. Legs tangled together and breaths heavy from the ‘work-out’.

“Why do you not like me spoiling you?” Noel broke the silence first, looking over at her.

“It’s not like I don’t like it, I just- I don’t know,” she answered, rolling over and laying her head on his chest.

“I think you do know, darling.” His fingers gently moved through her hair, a gentle sigh of contempt leaving her lips as she closed her eyes.

“I feel like a gold-digger of some sorts if you pay for all my stuff. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

“I’m not.” He gently leaned down, leaving a kiss on the top of her head. His lips lingering on her hair for a second longer. “Don’t worry, I’m not thinking that.”

Grateful for the reassurance, she nodded her head. Though her eyes always trailed over to the bags by the door and the uneasy feeling came back more intense with every glance their way.

#noel gallagher x fem!reader #noel gallagher x you #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher #noel gallagher imagine #noel gallagher fanfic #oasis x reader #oasis imagine #oasis fic #oasis band #oasis #britpop x you #britpop x reader #britpop imagine #britpop fanfic #britpop

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crowsofdarkness · 13 hours ago

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Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Ten

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

With a quick snap, I lit the old fireplace and felt the warmth spread across my legs. The orange glow lit up the old home as I walked through. It was now empty, being left abandoned the last 80 years. It looked completely different when I was here a few hours ago but I couldn’t stop thinking of ways that I could fix up the holes in the walls and the missing floor boards.

The master bedroom and bathroom were what needed the most work and a slight fear of what I had gotten myself into creeped into my bones; a giant hole was directly in the middle of the floor.

“So this is what you wired the money for?”

Looking to the front doorway, I sighed when I saw Steve leaning against the doorframe.

“You followed me?”

He pushed himself off the frame, his large feet walking inside the old house. “It’s exactly like I remembered.”

“What are the odds you know your way with a hammer?” I somewhat joked.

Steve laughed. “Not at all. That’s Bucky’s forte.”

I stuffed my hands deep into the pockets of my coat while Steve stood next to me as we both watched the fire dance.

“I can’t believe you bought Bucky’s childhood home,” Steve spoke after moments of silence.

“He deserves something good when he comes back,” I stated.

Steve looked over to me with a confused stare. “He has you.”

I shrugged. “I’ve done a lot of bad things the last five years and I don’t think Bucky could accept it.”

“You’re talking about The Winter Soldier,” Steve reminded me, bumping my shoulder with his own.

I looked around the run down house with a large sigh, knowing that there was going to be no way that I could get it fixed up in time. I wanted to surprise Bucky when the fight was over with his old home being fixed back to its former glory. He deserved a home to grow old in.

“Yikes, what are you two doing hanging out in this dump?”

Turning on my heels, I smiled at Natasha as she slowly maneuvered her way inside over the holes.

“Hey, this is my dump you’re shitting on,” I defended. “What are you doing here?”

She held up a bag of food. “Figured you two were hungry.”

We all sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, eating and laughing about old memories of us working together; before everything changed. I missed the way our banter bounced off each other, Nat and I giving Steve a hard time for how old he was.

“I missed this,” Natasha admitted.

“Me too,” I smiled. “I hope that after everything, we all can retire and enjoy the life we have left.”

“Soon this house will be filled with Bucky Jr’s running around,” Natasha winked at me.

I tensed up at the mention of kids and noticing the uncomfortable look on my face, he motioned towards the door.

“We should head back.” Steve helped me to my feet, giving my hand a squeeze.

He knew that I had reverted back to the dark hole with the mention of kids. I hadn’t coped with the loss of our kid, not wanting to come to terms that I could actually have a little Bucky Jr here with me right now.

Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulders leading me back to the Avengers Compound.

With a soft sigh, I turned over in bed, staring out the large windows. I could see the sun beginning to rise over the treeline, indicating that I hadn’t slept at all after returning back. Thoughts of the life I could have in this moment kept me awake.

How could I tell Bucky that we should have had a kid by now?

For a fast moment, I thought of not telling him, to spare him the pain of knowing that we lost a child in the snap. I hated, however, keeping secrets from him. He deserved to know the truth, about everything that happened the last five years.

Right?

With a loud groan, I tossed off the covers and forced myself to take a shower knowing that today was the day; the day that we would all go back in time to retrieve the infinity stones. I knew that it would work but there was a lingering fear that we wouldn’t get what we wanted without a price. It had always been like that for us, the Avengers. One of us always paid the price for our actions, one way or another.

Once dressed, I made my way down the elevator to the common area of the tower, where everyone else was waiting for my presence.

Nat, Clint, Rhodey, and Nebula were sitting at the large table watching as Bruce and Scott went over every detail about going back in time to them.

Tony and Thor were standing in front of the monitors with Carol, figuring out exactly where we needed to go to get the infinity stones.

And finally, Steve was sitting by himself in a chair on the other side of the room with a low scowl on his face. I had seen that same scowl many times in the past and it only ever meant one thing. Something heavy was on his mind.

“Someone’s in a cranky mood for it being so early in the day.” I joked as I sat in the other chair across from him.

The sight of me brought a smile to his face.

“Just thinking.” He stated.

“About what?”

I could see the hesitation on his face, knowing that he wasn’t sure if he should actually tell me what he was thinking.

“If this doesn't work, I don’t think I could take the feeling of failure from everyone; especially you. I don’t know what I would do if you hate me because I couldn’t bring Buck back for you,” Steve admitted with a sigh.

“Hey,” I spoke while lacing our fingers together, “I could never hate you, Steve. And this is going to work because it has to. We need to bring them all back, not only for me, but for all of us.”

I could see in his sad eyes that he still didn’t believe what I was saying so I gently leaned close to him, letting a soft kiss linger on his cheek for a brief second. Turning to look into my own eyes, we were meters apart and I felt his warm breath fan across my lips.

“I love you too much to ever hate you, Steve.” I muttered my admittance.

It was brief but I saw the way his eyes darted from my own down towards my lips, slowly licking his own. I couldn’t stop myself from slowly leaning closer to him.

Dorogaya.

“Hey lovebirds, if you’re done staring lovingly into each other's eyes we can start the meeting now.”

We both sat back from one another, my glance now on Tony.

“What’s the plan?” I coughed, hoping that would hide the arousal and redness of my cheeks for what almost happened.

As Tony went over the teams and who was going where, I felt Steve’s eyes on me the entire time. Daring a glance over to him, my heart hammered in my chest when I saw the look of desire in his face.

I shifted in my seat once I heard my name being called.

“Jesus Tony, you’re making me feel like I’m in school again,” I said while crossing my arms.

“Well if you weren’t giving googly eyes to Rogers, you would have heard what I was saying and I wouldn't have to yell at you,” Tony stated.

All these years had passed since we fought together in New York and I still hated how much of an ass he was.

“You, Banner, Lang, and Steve are going back to New York in 2012 to retrieve the time, mind, and space stone. Thor and the badger are going back to 2013 Asgard to get the reality stone.”

“I’m a racoon,” Rocket interjected.

“Same thing,” I waved him off. “Rhodey and Nebula are going to hitch a ride with Natasha and I to Morag to get the Power Stone while Nat and I go to Vomir for the soul stone.”

Once finished, I smiled smugly at Tony, knowing that I in fact was listening to him go over the plan while staring at Steve.

Steve said back in his chair, mirroring his own smug smile, before looking at Tony.

“Anything else, Mr. Stark?” He joked.

Tony let out a deep breath while pinching his eyes. “Let’s get suited up then.”

Before we all left the room, I gave Steve a quick wink and followed Natasha to her living quarters so we could get suited up together.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #soldat bucky barnes #vaz prizrak bucky barnes #dorogaya bucky barnes

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peachhcs · 23 hours ago

Note

Hannah surprises James today at the beanpot. She said she couldn’t make it but she could and wanted to surprise him.

you read my mindddd😌 the blurb immediately came to me when i saw the beanpot posts HAHA

au masterlist

the td garden was packed with boston college and northeastern fans for the highly anticipated annual beanpot. fans lined the arena and across the wall as the players poured onto the ice to start warmups. the students were on their feet yelling down to the eagles and booing northeastern. the boys ate it up through as they skated the around the glass encouraging the fans to keep it going.

there was one fan in the crowd tucked away that none of the players would recognize her unless she made herself more apparent. hannah and james talked earlier in the week where the gymnast mentioned that she probably didn’t think she could convince her coach to give her off for a day. james was slightly disappointed, but he did understand because negotiating with college coaches wasn’t easy.

however, what james didn’t know was that hannah already had her ticket booked for the game when they talked. the girl was starting to turn into samy because she just loved the idea of getting to surprise her boyfriend and just showing up after convincing him she wouldn’t be there.

she spotted his number 10 down on the ice doing his usual warmups with the guys. a proud smile sat on her lips knowing how much he was looking forward to this game and how much it meant to him to finally be able to play in it. tonight hannah sported some old boston college merch samy lended and she painted a small #10 on her cheeks and then the eagle on the other.

the younger duke sister wasn’t exactly sure how she wanted to make herself apparent or known that she was in attendance. she didn’t know if telling james before the game would distract him, or if just waiting until after would be better? or if him spotting her in the middle of the game would be even worse?

hannah didn’t really have time to contemplate her answers much longer because someone did end up spotting her. as ryan flew past her section, his eyes were on the fans and that’s when he spotted her familiar face in the sea of crimson. the brunette stopped in his tracks and skated back, a wide, confused smile on his lips.

“duker!” he yelled making the girl flush when the other boston college students glanced in her direction.

ryan looked excited to see her. he spun on his skate to find james to tell him who was here. hannah’s blush rose when some of the other fans noticed and recognized who she was.

“haggy! you’re never gonna guess who’s here!” ryan yelled when he got closer to his teammate who was on the other end of the rink.

“who?” james wondered.

“your girl is here,” ryan grinned widely and james’ shocked expression mirrored his own seconds ago.

“hannah’s here?”

“yeah!” ryan pulled james’ arm back towards hannah’s section. he pointed up to the girl who shyly waved down at them.

james’ mouth dropped open in complete shock and then a warm, fuzzy feeling bursted throughout his chest as the happiness slowly overtook the surprise.

she was here.

“go say hi, i’ll cover for you,” ryan pushed the boy towards the door where hannah was already making her way to the floor.

james lifted up his helmet briefly when hannah stood before him, “you’re here,” he mumbled.

“i’m here. surprise,” the gymnast grinned.

“i can’t believe you’re here. i-i thought..how did you?..” the words died in his throat along with every coherent thought in his brain.

“i may have sort of lied when we talked last week. i already had the flight booked. figured i’d try out this whole surprise thing,” hannah giggled and james didn’t even care that the entire boston college student body was watching him.

he pulled her into his arms, that warm feeling spreading throughout his entire body at the feeling of her wrapped around him. james wouldn’t admit this out loud, but he missed having her in his arms like this.

“i missed you so much. i can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

“i missed you too, hags. it’s good to see you,” hannah smiled and james also couldn’t stop himself from kissing her.

he heard a few whistles probably from the students watching them still, but he couldn’t less. he hadn’t seen hannah since winter break and even that wasn’t enough time because of world juniors taking up a majority of that break.

hannah slowly directed their lips away knowing people were watching and they could save it for after the game when an entire arena couldn’t see them. “you should get back, but i’ll see you after. score some goals for me,” she smiled.

“oh, you know i will,” the boy beamed, kissing her one last time before skating back on before one of the coaches yelled at him.

hannah blushed before making her way back to her seat. a few of the fans glanced her way, but she mostly ignored the murmurs.

that was probably the most public they’ve ever been with their relationship and neither of them hated it. actually, it sent this strong feeling through james’ chest that everyone just watched him kiss his girlfriend in a sold out arena because now everyone knew she was his.

the eagles dominated the ice in an overwhelming 8-2 victory. the fans were loud and electric as they celebrated the first win of the tournament. hannah kept to herself outside of the locker rooms. she watched the replays of all of the game winning goals knowing james was going to be ridding a really good high tonight.

the boy was eager to see her again, so he basically rushed through his shower. he knew he didn’t have a lot of time until he needed to get back on the bus, but he hoped hannah was up for crashing at his dorm for the night.

he rushed out of the locker room in search of her. hannah looked up as soon as james started running towards her, now back in his suit with damp hair from his shower. she giggled when he wrapped her into his arms and spun her around.

“congrats on the win,” she smiled.

“i told you i’d score some goals,” james smiled as well.

“you were amazing out there. i’m proud of you,” the girl gushed.

he took this more quieter opportunity to kiss her without the anxiety of everyone watching. their lips moved in slow sync with each others, savoring it more than before. if james could kiss her all night he would because he would never get over the feeling of her lips on his.

“i’m so glad you came. i was really hoping you would,” the hockey player said when they finally pulled away.

“i’d never miss this. this is your moment,” hannah cupped his face where he leaned into her touch.

“i gotta get back on the bus soon, but what are the chances you’ll come crash at my dorm?” the boy grinned.

“100%, just tell me when,” hannah agreed.

“perfect, i will. god, i’m so glad you’re here. i’ll see you super soon,” james kissed her one last time before meeting his team.

hannah smiled to herself, that same warm, fuzzy feeling bubbling in her own stomach as she headed back to her hotel to await james’ text that she could head to his dorm.

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onesecretperson · 3 months ago

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I've just realized I could've probably found out if there were any Adult appropriate Halloween events or parties in my area if I bit my pride and used Facebook a bit.

I hate that all community and local business events are announced and updated only on that website.

#Seriously got kind of despondent the last couple days wondering how the hell people like my parents found out about-#-haunted Hay Rides and haunted houses #Even though I have acknowledged the people who read newspapers probably spread that information around-#-i'm still tempted to blame the “neurological hivemind” for withholding information from me that everyone else just magically knows.#I get really annoyed that I still have temptations to get into old misanthropic thoughts spirals like that. I know better now as an adult #But still -blaming the “normal people” for “withholding information that they all know simultaneously out of nowhere”-#-is the first idea that pops into my head even though I'm not a middle schooler anymore.#This became a mental health rant. Not just an insight on how I still habitually keep myself ignorant of anything fun going on locally #Secret Person

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chai-and-cherries · 2 years ago

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#life and fic update #in the middle of exam season drinking a daiquiri by the pool and trying to edit part 2 of GLYBNETSY #life is good and chaotic #it’s coming along folks i swear this semester has just hit me like a truck lmao #GLYBNETSY update #aka part 2 arms spread wide #maisy writes #also very random but if anyone is also reading a black mass over highway 90 hit me up because my brain chemistry is physically changing lmao #learning to love 70’s and 80’s music all over again in a new light ugh my heart

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bi-writes · 5 months ago

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idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

#idk what this is #but i saw a pic of ghost and i had to be gross about him for a couple hundred words sorry #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon thoughts #ghoap x reader

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styrofauxm · 5 months ago

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#Happy now?

to your tag - of course I'm not happy. That is obviously a very shitty thing to say, much less make it through a bunch of reviews and get published. That's why it set off my "potential BS" alarm.

It is nice to see that it's not completely made up that reputable news organizations (I checked Christian Science Monitor and it IS reputable). But OP's claim that there's lots of news organizations celebrating this and calling it impressive is still unsubstantiated.

I checked about 10 different sources, and this is the first that actually states that. And, let's be honest, the average person is not tuning to the Christian Science Monitor for their news. If I've heard of it before today, I didn't remember it. Beyond that, 1 article does not prove an overall trend like OP is implying.

None of that excuses the way the other sources discussed this (especially CNN. It was worse than the Wall Street Journal AND Fox News. Combined (imo)).

But it's important to me that the information I share is accurate. And, based on the information people have given me, and my own research, the claim that "ALL these news stories call the pager explosions 'impressive'" is not accurate, nor is the claim that "arab deaths are being celebrated on an international scale."

It's really just not fair how obviously the world devalues arab lives. All these news stories call the pager explosions as "impressive"... it's just not fair. I don't know how else to say it. It's not fair that arab deaths are celebrated on an international scale.

#Now the first claim about arab lives being devalued? Read any of the articles I listed #or just look it up on google #it's like they can't help themselves but imply that bc Hezbollah is bad setting off bombs in civilian centers during busy times of day #is a totally normal and okay thing to do #or just look at american policy in the middle east since 2001 #But at the end of the day that's how misinformation spreads #something that is true is used to spread something false #its not normally malicious in my experience #Nor even deliberate #but at the end of the day it is just as dangerous as purposefully spread mis and dis info

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plutotheplum · 5 months ago

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Keep My Hand in Yours

emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 1!

summary: the emperor is intent on convincing you that you are worthy enough to be his empress.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, oral sex, vaginal fingering, p in v, praise kink, throne sex, spanking

wc: 6.9k

a/n: part 2 is finally here! thank you for all the sweet comments, i cherish them all!! <3 umm... i do plan on adding some more parts to this series... so yeah, i hope you enjoy! :)

also on ao3!

“She is not with child.”

Zayne’s stern voice cuts through the chatter of his advisors, his fingers tapping against the arm of his throne irritatedly. The drone of voices silences, his advisors lowering their heads in respect.

You stand off to the side, playing with the sleeves of your robes nervously. Perhaps you’d been a little naive to think the advisors would have been accepting of your blossoming relationship with the Emperor.

Word had spread throughout the palace, and most likely throughout the entire Empire about the new developments that had taken place overnight. The guards had heard you of course, their eyes averted and cheeks flushed pink when Zayne had held your hand and led you out of his chambers.

An unforeseen turn in events, and you had somehow excelled past the advisors’ expectations, garnering the Emperor’s affection for you. Whilst a small number of the Emperor’s advisors were pleased, the majority were not. Standing before them, you can see the disdain on their faces, the hatred that belies their thin smiles. Jealousy is above all however, for their own daughters were once placed forth as noble matches for the Emperor.

You jolt out of your thoughts when an Imperial guard takes your arm, moving you to stand before the Emperor. Zayne looks down at you, and you can spy the slight softening of his eyes as he watches you bow to him.

“As I have said,” Zayne repeats, “she is not with child.”

“Forgive me, your majesty,” a voice speaks out from behind you, “how can she not be with child? We- we have heard of what occurred.”

Zayne motions for you to spin around, and you do as he wants. You now face his entire court, advisors gathered in hours of the early morning. It was the grand chancellor who spoke, a tall man, his face gaunt. You remember he had served Zayne’s father before he had passed.

“We are both not ready for children,” Zayne explains, “I had the palace physician brew a tea under my command.”

It was true. You had both spoken about the matter, and you simply could not handle carrying a child so soon. Zayne had agreed, snuck you out through the passages in the middle of the night, and had taken you to the palace physician. The brewing of such teas was not unheard of, but certainly not an accepted occurrence, although perhaps more commonly used among the nobility.

“I see…” the grand chancellor says slowly, his gaze fixating on you.

You want to shrink away, somehow hide behind the safety of the Emperor, but you cannot. Instead, you shift on the spot, averting your gaze to the floor as though you were not the very object of interest of this gathering.

“And you intend to continue this foolish endeavor?”

Your head snaps up at the harsh words, gaze settling on the new voice that had spoken out. A lower ranking official judging by the coloring of his robes, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you.

“It appears you forget yourself,” the Emperor replies coolly.

“Or perhaps you forget yourself, your majesty,” the official spits, stepping forward, “you would ruin the image of your rule to marry some… some lowly concubine?”

The murmurs of the other members of court are hard to ignore, hushed whispers breaking out at the official’s blatant show of disrespect towards the Emperor.

“And was it not this very court that decided to gather concubines without my knowledge?”

“For child bearing!” the official hisses, pointing his finger towards you accusingly, “not for marriage!”

You swallow harshly at the viciousness of his words, biting back the insults that threaten to spill out. Retaliation in such a meeting would only support the official’s cause.

“She will be your Empress,” Zayne says calmly, “if you seek to insult my future wife yet again, I will have you removed immediately.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks when he affirms that you’ll be his wife. It may not be the best time, but the light flush covers your cheeks and you try to stop the pull of your lips, a smile threatening to spread across your face.

“If you think I- we will stand for such insolence, you are sorely mistaken, your majesty” the official snarls.

A bitter laugh echoes through the throne room.

“Be grateful that I am not my father,” Zayne murmurs, “for he would have had your head. Remove your seal.”

The official sputters, looking around at the rest of the court members wildly. Most avoid his eyes, others unconsciously touching their own seals through the fabric of their robes.

You flinch when the official removes his Imperial seal angrily, tossing the little silver square at your feet.

“You have poisoned his mind,” he accuses heatedly, face reddened from his outburst, “and you should do well to remember your station.”

Irritation pricks at your skin, your teeth gritting together. You were well aware of your station, of your status and how you’re perceived. The incessant reminders aren’t doing well to calm your frayed nerves, brows pulling together as you glare at the official.

“Bow to her.”

The rules of nobility have been set in place for longer than you could possibly know, and yet Zayne seems insistent on breaking them. It’s bold, even for him, to demand such a thing. You turn, shooting him a look, subtly shaking your head. There’s a hint of a smile on the Emperor’s face, as though enjoying this confrontation.

“I- I will do no such thing!” the official protests.

“You have already lost your seal and your position and you still will not do as I say?” Zayne murmurs, leaning forward in his throne.

You watch with wide eyes when the official does bow to you, the upper half of his body lowering. Another round of hushed whispers passes through the room, and you can feel the grand chancellor’s eyes boring into you. His authority was only second to the Emperor, the only man who held a real chance of changing Zayne’s mind.

“Good,” Zayne says, leaning back on his throne, “now leave us.”

The throne room clears out immediately, until you’re the only one remaining. You smile at him, stepping between his legs until you’re standing in front of him.

“I did not take you for a tyrant,” you tease, brushing his hair out of his face.

“And I did not know that protecting my future wife made me a tyrant,” Zayne muses, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He tugs you closer, his head falling forward to rest against your stomach, face burying itself in your robes. A soft sigh leaves you, fingers running through his loose hair, scratching at his scalp lightly.

“Tired?” you ask, arm wrapping around his neck.

The Emperor nods against your stomach, trying to press his face deeper. A laugh escapes you at his needy behavior, your hand managing to cup his jaw to bring him out of his hiding place.

“The affairs of state have become bothersome,” Zayne says, peering up at you.

“Oh? You did not seem to mind before.”

“Playing coy?” Zayne smiles faintly, tugging you forward until you stumble and land on his lap.

“Hardly,” you whisper, pressing yourself closer as your hands curl into his robes.

The Emperor leans back on his throne, his hands kneading at your hips. You chase after him, eyes fluttering shut as you press your lips against his. Zayne lets out a low noise, drawing you closer, his hand sliding up your back as you kiss. The memory from last night is still fresh, the feeling of his hands on your body ingrained in your mind.

“I cannot have enough of you,” he whispers, lips brushing over yours.

“You- you ought to rest,” you gasp, tilting your head to let him kiss down the length of your neck.

Zayne kisses your sternum, and back up your neck before he sighs and tucks his face into the crook of your neck. You hold him close, hand smoothing over his hair gently.

“I have made things difficult for you,” you say quietly.

He shakes his head, squeezing your waist reassuringly.

“I have become complacent,” he murmurs, “simply letting others do as they please.”

You kiss his forehead when he lifts his head, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Exhaustion mars the Emperor’s face, his eyes looking sunken and dull. The sudden gathering of his court appears to have drained his energy.

“I shall have to gather them again,” Zayne says, “the trade agreements need attention.”

A smile settles on your face when he kisses your cheeks gently, his hands petting your sides. You move off of his lap, standing up with him reluctantly. Reaching out, you fix his hair and his robes that you had held onto earlier.

“Finish, then retire to your chambers to rest,” you instruct, patting his chest.

Zayne laughs, his head dipping down to kiss you. You return the kiss eagerly, pulling apart with a few sweet, little pecks to his lips.

“You are already acting like a doting wife,” he whispers.

You flush when he says that, looking away. It’s still hard to get over the fact that Zayne, the Emperor, wants to marry you of all people. The thought of it all makes your palms sweaty, cheeks hot and heart race. There’s a whirlwind upon you, Zayne, tearing apart your preconceived notions of the Empire.

“I want to dote on you.”

The words tumble from your lips, soft and vulnerable. You’ve never felt this way about a man, never had a man pay attention to you, never been touched by a man before him. It’s as though the Emperor’s expressions are always tender in the way he gazes at you. You’ve never known what it’s like to be in love, but if it’s like this, so startlingly soft and sickeningly sweet, you fear you may be lost in him forever.

“I- I just meant-” you begin to correct yourself, fidgeting with your robes.

“I know what you meant,” Zayne says softly, his hands finding yours.

Your breath catches in your throat when he lifts your hands to his mouth, his thumbs running over your skin soothingly. Zayne keeps his eyes on you as he kisses across your knuckles, squeezing your hands gently after.

“I said I take care of what’s mine,” he continues, drawing you close, “and you are mine now.”

You nod jerkily, shoving your face into his chest. The Emperor hums, stroking your hair slowly. Unfortunately, you don’t get to bask in his embrace for any longer, a guard announcing the arrival of a messenger.

“Rest,” you remind him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Zayne nods, squeezing your waist before allowing you to draw away.

The other girls crowd around you immediately when you enter your chambers, their expressions sly and knowing as they tug you towards the middle of the room, soft giggles filling the air.

“Well?” one of them asks, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Well what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

A chorus of complaints breaks out.

“Stop being shy!”

“We tell you our stories!”

“You must tell us!”

One of the girls reaches for you, her arm hooking with yours. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers conspiratorially.

“Was the Emperor well-endowed?”

“Oh, stop it!”

The grand chancellor has been lurking in the hallways.

You’d noticed the tall man when you had left to make some tea, but after a considerable amount of time, he was still there. The cold breeze outside should’ve been enough to deter him, but you’ve figured he must be intent on speaking to you.

To be frank, you aren’t in the mood for another confrontation just days later from the disastrous court meeting that had occurred. It’s why you hold your breath as you sneak out from your chambers, feet padding against the floor lightly as you try to slip past the grand chancellor’s turned back.

“Will you avoid me for much longer?” he calls out.

You wince, halting in place. The grand chancellor cannot be avoided forever, you suppose.

“Come along,” he says, his fingers motioning for you to follow him.

You do as he says begrudgingly, following after the grand chancellor. To your surprise, he leads you into the gardens rather than a private room. Snow is yet to fall today, autumn soon drawing to a close in a few weeks. You wipe the fallen leaves that have landed on a nearby bench, sitting down after the grand chancellor does.

It’s suffocatingly awkward, your fingers playing with each other agitatedly as he simply sits next to you, looking out at the plants and trees that make up the gardens. You realize it would be a foolish idea to let your guard down around him. The grand chancellor hadn’t reprimanded Zayne during that meeting and yet you remember the way he had been staring at you. His intentions are hard to discern, his loyalties to the Emperor and the Emperor alone.

“Much like his father, his majesty is stubborn,” the grand chancellor says, “I have had the pleasure of knowing both men since they were children.”

“I see,” you murmur, peeking a glance at him.

You don’t know why he’s telling you this, half-expecting the man to begin berating you for becoming so close to Zayne.

“I shall be frank,” he sighs, turning to face you, “I did not expect the Emperor to become so… enamored by you.”

“I did not expect it either,” you grumble defensively.

“His majesty is an intelligent man. He knows of the consequences and yet seems intent on taking you to wed.”

“Consequences?” you echo.

“Political alliances are frail,” he explains, picking up a fallen leaf and examining it, “marriage is the easiest way to prevent a war between regions.”

“We have not been at war for years!” you protest, shaking your head.

“And we will not be for many more,” the grand chancellor assures you, “I am simply warning you of what may come when you are Empress.”

You don’t understand the politics of the Empire, have never been privy to such things. The grand chancellor only adds to the confusion and uncertainty that has been brewing inside your mind.

“I thought you would dissuade him,” you say quietly.

“The boy deserves happiness,” the grand chancellor murmurs, standing up, “if he wishes to be with you, then I will allow it.” He peers down at you, his lips thinning. “Take caution, child. Envy drives men to madness. The nobility may hide behind their bloodlines, but a cesspool festers within.”

The grand chancellor hands you the withered leaf.

“Loyalties change as the seasons do.”

A week later, the Emperor finds you in the gardens, sitting under a tree.

“You have not come to see me,” Zayne says, sitting down beside you.

“I did not want to trouble you,” you reply.

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. The Emperor’s fingers are stained with ink, streaks of black covering his pale skin. Zayne’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

“The grand chancellor is worried.”

“I surmised as much,” the Emperor sighs, his fingers playing with your robes.

You peer up at him, and Zayne leans down, dropping a kiss to your forehead. There’s a part of you that can’t help but feel you’re putting him in a position that he normally wouldn’t be in if he had simply chosen to marry someone of higher status.

“Do you truly wish to marry me?” you ask quietly, averting your gaze.

“Have I told you otherwise?” Zayne asks in return, his fingers gripping your chin to turn your head so that your eyes meet his again.

The tenderness in his eyes is overwhelming. You feel as though you’re drowning, swallowed up by his irises and his honest gaze. Things would’ve been far simpler if he were someone less important, but you can’t imagine Zayne being anything other than the Emperor, for it would be a disservice to the Empire.

You shift, standing up before settling your hands on his broad shoulders, straddling him as you climb up onto his lap. It’s improper to act so brazenly, but you’ve done far more improper things with him, acted far more brazenly in his presence. The Emperor grunts as you settle yourself on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“I am not fit to be your Empress,” you whisper.

Zayne doesn’t say anything for a moment, his hand simply rubbing up and down your back soothingly. Your throat is tight and you can feel your lips trembling. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t help it when a sniffle escapes you.

“And you think I am fit to be Emperor?” he whispers, “I am only here because of my father and his father before him and so on.”

“But you are the Emperor,” you insist, voice quavering, “I could not possibly-”

“Forget about nonsensical titles,” Zayne murmurs, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wipe away the hot tears that have begun to roll down your cheeks, “I meant every word I said that night.”

“B- but-”

“But nothing,” the Emperor soothes, staring into your eyes intently, “I would sooner have no one than not have you.”

“You are the worst,” you say tearily, pushing at his chest weakly.

“Ah, I am sure,” he says, a small smile spreading across his face.

The Emperor cradles your head, tilting it to his will as he kisses away the fresh tears that wet your cheeks. He doesn’t stop there, his lips dragging over your skin gently. The Emperor kisses your brows, your closed eyelids, the tip of your nose, every inch of your face that is bared to him.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

You kiss him gently and Zayne smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, deepening the kiss as he presses his lips against yours firmly. A soft whine leaves you, letting his tongue lick over the seam of your lips before he licks into your mouth, tongue delving deep. The Emperor kisses you as though trying to convince you of his words, as though to make you stay.

“I want to show you something,” Zayne says, his forehead pressing against yours. You nod, moving to stand up. Zayne doesn’t let you, instead hauling you up into his arms and standing up. A surprised squeak bubbles out of you when you realize the Emperor is carrying you.

“Zayne!” you protest, “Zayne, people will see!”

Zayne only tightens his grip when you begin to squirm, brushing a kiss to your forehead to calm your ministrations.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, people do see. You try to shrink in his grasp, pressing yourself into his chest as the palace staff pause their duties to watch with wide eyes as the Emperor carries you out of the gardens. Some are unable to stop their jaws from slackening, others beginning to point and whisper amongst themselves.

The Emperor hardly bats an eye, his stride strong and purposeful as he carries you through the hallways and courtyards. It’s a statement in and of itself.

You spy the smirk on an Imperial guard’s face when he opens up the doors to the throne room, your eyes narrowing when the man sends you a wink. The doors slam shut with a resounding thud, leaving only you and Zayne inside.

“Zayne- Zayne, no!” you hiss, hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you realize what he’s doing.

Your legs kick out, trying to somehow climb up the Emperor’s tall frame. It’s futile against his strength, his hands manhandling you until he sets you down on his throne. If he doesn’t punish you for it, you fear the Heavens will.

“Stay,” the Emperor says, pushing at your shoulders when you try to shoot up from where you’re sitting, “I command it.”

You sit in place rigidly, back straight. There are centuries of history that make up this throne, and you can’t help but feel that you are somehow dishonoring it all by sitting here.

“What are you-” your brows furrowing when he suddenly begins to bend.

Fingers digging into the arms of the throne, you feel as though you might faint as you watch the Emperor bow to you before sinking to his knees. Zayne stares up at you expectantly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“G- get up!” you whisper heatedly.

There’s no one here, but you can only imagine the severity of the consequences if someone were to stumble in here and find the Emperor on his knees for you.

“Command it,” he says, looking perfectly content in his current position.

“No one can command the Emperor!”

“I will not move unless you exert your authority,” Zayne says simply.

Your eye twitches at his insistence, at his own brazenness.

“Say it,” he coaxes gently, “say it and I will stand.”

“I-” your breath catches in your throat awkwardly. You flush when Zayne nods his head encouragingly, your voice breathy when you begin to speak again. “I c-command you to stand.”

“Very good,” he murmurs, standing up and moving towards you.

Zayne smiles at you, his head dipping to crash his lips onto yours, his hands braced on the arms of his throne. You gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. The Emperor continues his onslaught of kisses, dragging his lips down your neck as his fingers pull free the knot holding your robes together.

“You think your station determines your worth,” Zayne whispers, his teeth scraping your shoulder, “but this- you are worth more to me than the finest jade.”

“Stop,” you whisper, eyes slipping shut, “you must stop speaking like that. It does awful things to my heart.”

He laughs softly, kissing between your breasts. You bite your lip as his mouth envelops your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple. His teeth catch on it, tugging playfully before letting it pop free as he switches breasts. You run your fingers through his long hair, head tipping back against the throne as your body convulses.

The Emperor holds you in place, letting his tongue lave over your areola, his half-lidded eyes peering up at you to catch your reactions. You give him a weak smile and Zayne moans around your breast, his hand squeezing at the fat of your other breast.

Your dazed eyes watch as he kisses down your body, kissing your hip then your navel. He sinks to his knees once again, and you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him, lost in the haze of lust and love. Zayne kisses the curls of hair on your mound, his hands gripping your calves to help guide your legs over his shoulders.

“I have missed this,” he whispers, his thumbs pulling apart your folds.

“As have I,” you sigh.

You moan when Zayne licks up a stripe over your cunt, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He rests his cheek against your thigh, watching intently as your aching hole clenches around nothing, watching as more slick drips from you.

“Stop staring,” you mumble, pushing at his head gently.

“I enjoy the sight,” he says in return.

Your thighs twitch when he pushes the hood of your clit up a little more, exposing the swollen bud. Zayne groans, kissing the inside of your thigh firmly before licking over your cunt again. A strangled gasp rips out of your throat, hands tightening in his hair as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Z- Zayne- ah- hah!”

A soft whimper escapes when he kisses your clit, his fingers dimpling into the flesh of your thighs harshly. Zayne pulls you to the edge of the throne, his face burying deeper as he groans again, drinking down your slick.

You squeal when he fucks his tongue into you, body shaking uncontrollably as you fist his hair tighter. He hisses against your cunt, renewing his efforts. You can feel his mouth opening wider, trying to consume you whole, licking and sucking desperately at every inch of velvety, sensitive flesh he can reach.

His nose rubs against your clit, and you’re seeing stars. The Emperor makes an obscene noise and you can feel his tongue moving inside of you, the feeling making your thighs clamp around his head.

“Have- have you ever put your fingers inside of yourself?” he asks, raising his head.

You shake your head, watching as his fingers stroke over your clit lovingly, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your knee.

“May I?” the Emperor whispers, his finger prodding at your hole.

You give him a jerky nod, legs falling apart a little more for him. He smiles up at you, his finger sinking into you slowly. You whimper at the sensation, clenching around his finger. Zayne adds another soon after, and you’re panting desperately, hips bucking as he curls them inside of you.

“The scroll said to do something like this,” he mutters under his breath.

“You- oh- you read a scroll?” you grit out.

“It was quite informative,” Zayne murmurs, beginning to move his fingers.

“Why must you be so- ah!”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, your knuckles turning white as you grip the throne for stability as he latches his mouth back onto your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. The heat inside your stomach grows more intense with each flick of his tongue, his teeth scraping against your sensitive flesh for good measure.

Moans have begun to fill the air, and you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore, letting go completely. You guide his head to where you want him, toes curling against his back, crumpling his silk robes. Zayne’s mouth works with his fingers diligently, his fingers crooking up a little more to graze the spot where you need it most.

You peek down to see the pink flush on his cheeks and your back arches, his name leaving your mouth in a cry as you come on his fingers and his tongue. The Emperor moans as you writhe, his fingers moving in and out of you a couple more times before freeing them from your clenching walls.

Chest heaving, you pant, slumping back in the throne as he kisses across your puffy folds and sensitive cunt. Your thighs twitch a little when he peppers soft, little kisses against your clit and you can’t help but think the man has an obsession with its ability to bring you such pleasure.

The Emperor kisses up your body and you cup his jaw, kissing him sweetly.

“I fear this throne may be ruined,” you whisper against his lips.

He laughs, his nose nudging yours gently, “I recall promising to take you on it.”

“Before that,” you stand up on shaky legs, pushing at his chest until he sits back on his throne.

Adoration glimmers in his eyes, watching as your loose robes slip from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You stand bare before the Emperor, and you catch the slight spreading of his thighs to relieve the ache of his cock.

This time it’s you that’s sinking to your knees, pulling his robes free. The muscles of his abdomen clench when you run your fingers down his chest, his hand coming up to cover his flushed face.

“Why are you shy now?” you accuse, pouting up at him.

His thighs twitch when you curl your hand around his cock and you can feel the throb of his fat, hot length.

“You do not have to-” he whispers when he sees your head dip.

“I want to,” you say stubbornly.

Zayne nods in acquiescence, moaning when you begin to drag your hand up and down his cock. It’s a little intimidating when you stare at it up close, but you swallow down your worries, leaning forward to kiss the tip experimentally.

His cock twitches in response, pre-cum beading at the tip. Your tongue darts out, licking up the little glob, feeling the taste of him spread across your tongue.

“Zayne,” you whisper, breath fanning over his cock, “Zayne, you must watch me.”

The Emperor groans at your lilting voice, his eyes opening the moment your mouth envelops him. His hips buck and you nearly seize up at the feeling of the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You mewl around him, breathing through your nose, tongue swirling before your head begins to bob up and down.

“Fuck,” Zayne hisses, his fingers spreading across your scalp, “my love, you are devious.”

You hum in response, pulling off of his cock in favor of giving more attention to the tip of it. You swirl your tongue, tongue flicking at the flared head and it’s enough to make Zayne whine, his thighs spreading wider for you.

“Can you take it deeper?” he asks, his fingers trailing down the curve of your cheek.

“I shall try,” you murmur, mouth opening for him.

He hooks his thumb into the corner of his mouth, cupping your chin before his thumb spreads over the flat of your tongue. You smile, eyes flashing with mischievousness as you suck his thumb into your mouth, tongue flicking against the pad of it.

Zayne shoots you a searing look and you watch as he grips the base of his cock. He drags the tip of his cock against your closed lips, entranced as he watches his pre-cum smears across your lips. His other hand presses at the back of your head and your mouth opens again, letting him guide his cock into your mouth.

“Just like that,” he whispers, “good girl.”

You can feel arousal shooting through you at the praise, slick pooling between your thighs yet again. The ache is so unbearable that you shove your hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit.

The Emperor pushes your head gently and you go willingly, slurping and sucking around his thick cock. Saliva drips from your mouth, coating his cock and his balls, strings of it landing on the edge of his throne. You rub at your clit faster, eyes fluttering as he brushes your loose hair away from your face.

“A- ah,” Zayne rasps, “hah- my love.”

The term of endearment is enough to have you taking it upon yourself to sink down his cock even more. The tufts of his black hair hit your nose for a moment, but you’re inexperienced and you’ve overestimated your own abilities. The feeling of his cock filling your throat is too much, and you choke, throat seizing, causing you to pull off with a hoarse cough as your eyes water.

Concern flits across Zayne’s face, his thumb swiping over your swollen lips. You give him a watery smile, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He sighs in relief when he sees you’re okay, leaning forward to place a tender kiss to your lips.

“So willful,” the Emperor murmurs.

He slides his hands under your armpits, picking you up and setting you down on his lap.

“I can do it again,” you mumble, gaze lowering to see his cock pressed between your bodies.

Zayne smiles, petting at your sides, “as much as I enjoyed the feeling, I cannot have my darling choking on my cock.”

“I was not choking,” you whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“If you insist,” Zayne soothes, “but when we are married, I will have many more opportunities to watch you swallow my cock.”

The Emperor’s constant promise of marriage has your heart lurching and you lean forward, crushing your lips against his. He grunts in surprise at your sudden action but returns the kiss just as eagerly, squeezing at your hips.

You whine into his mouth, his hair tickling your skin as he presses forward, his hips rolling up into yours. You can feel his hard cock between your thighs, the length dragging between your folds.

Zayne groans at the sensation, his head falling back and you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, rolling your hips wantonly, your nails digging into his broad shoulders.

“Who are you?” he whispers, groping the fat of your ass.

“W- what?” you pull back, confusion spreading across your face.

The Emperor guides your hips to continue moving, your folds hugging his cock as you grind against it.

“Who are you?” Zayne asks again, “your title, what is it?”

Pleasure has made your mind hazy, and you can’t discern whether he’s playing a game of some sort with his questions, or whether he’s suffering from some sort of untimely amnesia.

“Your concubine,” you reply, “I thought-”

You jolt in his arms when he suddenly lands a heavy spank to your ass, his eyes narrowing when he hears your answer.

“Incorrect,” Zayne murmurs, his hand squeezing your ass in warning.

“I am your concubine- ah!”

Zayne shakes his hand, spanking you twice. You can feel the prickly heat spread across your skin, the pain searing. You glare up at him, and he smiles back, his hand smoothing over your reddened backside.

“Who are you, my love?” he whispers, his nose nudging yours.

Oh. Oh.

The Emperor’s insistence is a remarkable thing, you think. He may be even more stubborn than you are. Zayne’s fingers tapping against your cheek brings you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting his.

“I- I am your Empress,” you say quietly.

“Precisely.”

Zayne slots his lips over yours and you mewl, your hips beginning to rock again, inner thighs wet with your slick and his pre-cum smeared over his abdomen. He kisses you over and over until you’re short of breath and your lips are swollen and slick with his spit.

“Will you take my cock, my love?”

“Y- yes,” you say airily, lifting your hips as he grips the base of his cock, “please.”

Zayne squeezes your hip, watching as you bite your lip and sink down on his cock. His cock is just as girthy as you remember, filling up your needy hole perfectly. Your body falls forward at the feeling and Zayne kisses your cheek, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Always take my cock so well,” he praises.

Your hands plant themselves against his chest as your head tips back, taking what you want from him. Hips rising and falling, airy moans filling the air, you ride the Emperor. Zayne moans with you, his hands kneading at the flesh of your sides before drifting to take handfuls of your ass too.

“So good,” you slur, the force of your movements increasing, “feels so good, Zayne.”

“I know,” Zayne whispers, watching the bounce and sway of your breasts as you move atop him, “use me, my love.”

You do as he says, using him to drive yourself further to the edge of pleasure. The sounds filling the throne room are lewd, the clap of skin echoing throughout coupled with your shared noises.

Your thighs burn as you roll your hips, taking his cock deeper into the heat of your cunt, feeling it punch into the most sensitive spot inside of you. It’s too much, the mind-numbing sensations and your own body tiring with every movement.

You slump against him, hips slowing to a pitiful stop, his fat cock still stuffed inside of you. It twitches and you whimper, peering up at Zayne desperately.

“Husbands should take care of their wives,” you mumble, lips pressing against his.

“But we are not yet married,” he whispers teasingly.

Zayne kisses you slowly, his hand sliding up your neck and stopping to cup your cheek. He molds you to his will, maneuvering your body as he sees fit, grabbing at every inch of flesh he can reach.

“But I am yours,” you say earnestly, “and I will be yours till the day I die.”

“You will, won’t you?” Zayne smiles, drawing you closer, “nothing makes me happier, my dear.”

You wail when he suddenly ruts up into you, balls slapping against your ass as he tightens his grip to bounce you up and down on his lap. Your hands lose their holds on his shoulders, scrabbling for stability until you find purchase on the top of his throne.

The Emperor is fucking you on his throne.

You try to feel some sense of mortification, but you can’t, the feeling of his cock erasing all sensible thoughts from your mind. Zayne slaps your ass and you squeak, body falling forward even more. Your breasts press into his face and you whine when he mouths at them, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

The Emperor’s name leaves your mouth in a pleading chant and he answers your needs, pulling you down until your cunt is flush with the base of his cock, pussy swallowing up his length completely. Zayne slows to a grind, keeping his cock stuffed inside of you.

You curl an arm around his neck, hugging him closer to your breasts and Zayne groans, his mouth opening wider to try and take in your entire breast. He stares up at you, the flush on his cheeks deepened and eyes so, so soft.

Your lips slot over his as soon as his mouth detaches from your breast, your lips working against his slowly and sweetly, hips swaying back to meet the slow thrusts of his hips.

“You have ruined me,” you confess, cheek resting on his shoulder.

“Better it be me than some other man,” he whispers.

You agree with him on that. Zayne has given you far more than you could’ve possibly dreamed, the twist of fate bringing you something, or rather, someone to cherish.

“You are everything, Zayne.”

He groans at your bold words, his head falling back against his throne. You come undone in slow waves, body trembling as he comes with you, his cock kicking inside of you as hot cum spurts from the tip, filling you up. You can feel the thickness of it, cum spilling into you for a few moments longer as your hips slow to a stop.

You both breathe heavily, his chest moving under yours. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies, robes forgotten as they lie at the foot of the throne.

A soft smile graces your lips as you move his hair out of his eyes, tilting his head to kiss his forehead.

“You spoil me,” Zayne mutters, nuzzling into your palm.

“I think it is the other way around,” you laugh breathlessly.

He sighs, slumping in his throne, his cock still inside of you. You can feel it softening, no longer plugging you full as cum begins to leak out from your pussy.

“I may need more tea,” you whisper.

Zayne huffs in amusement, his fingers collecting his viscous cum. He smears it across your pussy, his fingers catching onto your clit as he rubs his cum onto the little bud. He lifts his hand to your mouth and you accept eagerly, staring into his eyes as you suck his fingers clean of cum.

“Minx,” he mutters.

You giggle, kissing the pads of his fingers affectionately, shifting to sit on his thigh. Zayne smiles in return, his hands massaging your sore thighs. He kisses your cheek a few times, peppers a few kisses here and there over your shoulder.

“Feeling better?” Zayne asks, nuzzling your cheek.

“Much,” you whisper, smiling up at him, “but I fear I may not be able to walk.”

“Shall I carry you again?” the Emperor whispers.

You roll your eyes, prodding your fingers into his chest, “I did not enjoy that.”

“Lying is punishable by death.”

“You are insufferable,” you whisper.

Zayne leans forward for another kiss, but you deny him, slipping off of his lap. He laughs when your thighs tremble, reaching out to catch you by the waist before your knees buckle.

He tugs you onto his lap, thwarting your escape as he kisses you again. You think you won’t be leaving this place anytime soon.

Zayne doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful in this world than when you’re sleeping.

The slow rise and fall of your chest, the sweet innocence of your face, your hair splayed against the pillows, the gods must favor him for they’ve sent him a vision.

He smiles as he watches you stir in your sleep, brushing away the hair that’s fallen onto your face. Zayne can’t resist leaning closer, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, feeling your soft skin under his.

Zayne likes it when you smile, when you glare, the way you protest against his subtle teases. He’s never met someone as endearing as you, never bothered to take interest in another until you came along with that tray of tea clutched in your hands. He hasn’t told you about how his own heart flutters at the mere thought of you, and doesn’t think he will. He’d be better off showing you instead.

Above all, he remembers when you’d stumbled into his chambers, your flustered disposition as you’d apologized. He’d been lonely before you, trapped in a dull existence with others meandering through his life without purpose.

But you’ve changed things now. He feels free when he hears your laugh, the light in your eyes warming him from within. The world around him seems brighter, sparks of color appearing in places he had never seen before.

You had painted the world for him.

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