#like there's more angst to come but the real climax of it was in this ep that's how i feel anyway

[vettelsvee]

Hi love! For your tortured poets department, can I request endgame from the reputation album, lando being the driver please please 🙏

END GAME | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Friend with benefits Piastri!Reader

SUMMARY: You were used to have random hookups just for fun, including with Lando Norris himself. It's not until he decides to lock both of you up on his driver room and talk about your weird relationship that you don't realize that, deep down, you're willing to settle down your mind and start a dating him ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT

WORD COUNT: 2745

WARNINGS: Slightly +18 at the end (sorry for leaving it there ☺️), mentions of friends with benefits, spelling with multiple people, angst, curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Haven't written Lando in a very, very long time, so hope you like this one! University and my mental health are killing me but you know what? Writing is what keeps me going (and specially your comments have been a boost of serotonin for me lately). Also... the 2k special is already living rent free in my mind and I can't wait to achieve the goal to post it 😭 I wanna give spoilers now so... you know 🤓 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

"You finally decided to show up at a race. I was starting to think you only liked having me naked in your bed behind your brother’s back."

You smiled at the screen, playing with your fingers as you thought how could you answer Lando. Your relationship was based purely on sex, moreover sexting, with barely any real conversations whenever you met, moans and orgasms speaking for you both instead.

You had never felt the need to go beyond that, to involve feelings in your relationship, or at least that’s what you had made clear to Lando before sleeping with him the very first time. You also let him know that, besides him, there were other guys with whom you had no commitments whatsoever.

However, it was with Lando that you spent most of your time. The others were nothing more than a safe escape, an easy way out when the Brit wasn’t around.

"Be grateful that I even came," you finally replied. "And don’t flatter yourself. I came to see my brother, not to make you come before a race."

You hesitated, wondering if your reply was harsh enough to keep him from getting any ideas and, more importantly, to stop him from insisting on meeting up. You weren’t sure how, but you wanted to end that strange relationship before it spiraled out of control because, whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had started to feel something for him.

Yes, just a few weeks ago, you had one of your usual encounters with a friend of one of your best friends. But everything fell apart when, right before reaching your climax, you couldn’t help it: you moaned Lando’s name instead.

That was what made you question what exactly you felt for Norris and why the label of friends with benefits seemed to be fading away.

"Don’t play dumb, Piastri. See you at the motorhome. You know exactly where."

You huffed. Of course, you knew exactly where you’d be meeting. After all, ever since your brother became a Formula 1 driver, you had visited his teammate’s personal room more than Oscar’s.

With a sigh, making sure neither your mother nor your sisters were nearby, you got up, grabbed the plastic cup that still had a bit of coffee left, and walked with as much determination as you could muster toward McLaren’s motorhome, finishing your drink along the way.

As you walked, mentally preparing a script in case things got tense with Lando, you greeted the people you knew, or at least those who knew you as Y/N Piastri. Lewis was genuinely happy to see you and even stopped to chat, but you excused yourself, saying you had already made plans. Fernando gave you a knowing look, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were about to do with a certain driver.

Even your brother crossed paths with you at the entrance to McLaren’s motorhome. You managed to lie to him, partially, saying Lando had asked you to take a few pictures of him before the race.

Oscar gave you a strange look, then rolled his eyes, offered a small smile and told you to enjoy whatever it was you both were about to do.

You said nothing, but you knew your twin brother well enough to realize he already had a pretty good idea of what you were up to with Norris. Not that you tried too hard to hide it.

When you reached Lando’s room, you didn’t even have to knock. The door opened instantly, revealing a slightly tired-looking Lando with a cup in his hand. His race suit was already on but zipped only to his waist, leaving the top half hanging loose. His team cap was still on, though it didn’t last long since he took it off and tossed it aside within seconds.

He grinned from ear to ear, like he had been waiting for you with far too much anticipation.

"Come in. Make yourself at home," he said with that mischievous tone you were so used to hearing, though something about it felt slightly different this time.

You walked inside without hesitation, crossing your arms and ignoring him, except for the occasional sideways glance to see if he would do or say something before you did. Unfortunately, he didn’t.

"If you wanted a quick fuck before the race you could’ve just said so, you know?"

"I don’t think today’s the best day to fuck you and let everyone hear," he replied. "At least, not yet. Today, we’re going to talk."

"We don’t talk, Lando," you shot back, feeling an internal alarm go off. "And when we do, it’s just to ask about the safe word of the day, what we want to do to each other, and how close we are to coming."

"Well, maybe it’s time we started talking, don’t you think so?"

His answer took you completely by surprise. Your gazes remained locked on each other, and you felt the atmosphere grow tense.

For the first time in a long while, there was no excuse you could use to avoid that conversation with Lando. Maybe the fact that you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks was enough to make him realize that there was a chance—however small—that things had changed between you two.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the growing sense of unease settling in your chest. Lando kept looking at you with that same intensity he always did, except this time… it was different. It wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in a situation like this, where there were a thousand unsaid things hanging between you, waiting to be voiced. But it was the first time, at least on your part, where feelings were involved beyond pure physical desire.

"I don’t think there’s anything to talk about," you said as nonchalantly as possible, but your tense posture betrayed you.

Lando set his cup down on the table beside him. Then, he sat on the edge, crossing his arms again, and reached for your hands only for you to pull away and take a step back.

"I think you know exactly what we need to talk about," he replied calmly. His voice was lower than usual, and you felt the heat grow between your legs. You shook your head, feeling guilty and doing your best to push away that sudden, but familiar, awakening in your body.

"You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. And don’t tell me you haven’t, because you were in Monaco and never called me to meet up… to see each other," he added, his voice laced with something unreadable. "In fact, we usually sext almost every day, and you didn’t even bother to tell me what  new lingerie set you bought for when you came over."

"I didn’t tell you I was coming to Miami either."

Your reply, rather than making you sound indifferent, exposed you completely. Lando raised an eyebrow, as if he had caught you red-handed. That was when you realized you had seriously screwed up.

"I haven’t been avoiding you, Lando. I’ve just been busy," you insisted.

"Busy? You mean busy by ignoring me?" He scoffed, ironic. His expression turned much more serious now, and you started to worry about where this might lead. "Tell me the truth, Y/N. What’s going on? What’s happening with you?" he emphasized.

You averted your gaze, pretending to take interest in the room’s decoration, a room you already knew by heart. You knew you couldn’t keep dodging the topic, but you also had no idea how to confront it without changing everything you had so far. It was impossible to put into words what you felt for Lando, not when your relationship had always been purely physical. And especially not when there was a real chance you were just confused… and, well, you couldn’t forget the possibility that he might only see you as his hookup.

"Nothing’s wrong," you finally responded.

"I thought we were always honest with each other," Lando sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

You felt your throat tighten. It was hard to breathe. You had been honest, at least when it came to the unrestricted desire between you, to touching each other without attachments, to seeking comfort in one another without questions that went beyond your wildest fantasies. You had avoided anything personal.

But now, you were slowly breaking the unspoken rules that had kept you in perfect balance until this moment.

"I’ve been busy, Lando, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with you, alright?" you insisted, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Things should have stayed the way they were until, according to you, I started ignoring you."

"No, Y/N, things aren’t like that," the Brit denied, shaking his head. He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall. "If you don’t want to face something because you’re afraid of rejection, just tell me. But, for fuck’s sake, don’t act like I did something wrong, because you’re killing me."

"Lando…"

"Stop insisting that nothing is happening between us, when that’s exactly what makes me think the opposite."

His confession caught you completely off guard. His words—clear, direct, and without a hint of sarcasm, threw you off… especially because you knew he was right.

You felt the urge to run, to disappear, to pretend none of this had ever happened. Most of all, you wanted to deny yourself any romantic thought you had ever had about Oscar’s teammate.

When you lowered your gaze, Lando moved back slightly, giving you space and making sure he didn’t overwhelm you more than you already seemed to be. You sighed, trying to relax once again, but before you could say anything, he spoke first.

"Tell me nothing’s wrong between us, Y/N Piastri," he said softly. "If nothing has really changed, if everything is the same between us… dare to look at  me in the eyes and say it."

Your chest tightened. You couldn’t run away, not when Lando had you emotionally cornered, teetering on the edge of an explosion. Your breathing was unsteady, heavy. Your mind screamed at you to find an excuse, anything that would let you stay true to yourself regardless of what happened next.

Lando waited, unmoving, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you tremble for the first time in your life—without him even touching you. It was the first time he had shown himself to you like this: so vulnerable and yet so determined at the same time.

"Nothing is wrong between us, Lando Norris," you finally whispered, forcing the words out, ignoring both your heart and the boy standing in front of you.

"Say it again, but this time, look me in the eyes."

He didn’t move an inch. He knew you were lying; your posture gave you away—the way you avoided his gaze, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt and your accreditation pass…

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. You had no choice… at least, not entirely.

Lifting your gaze, you met his blue eyes once again. Your lips parted slightly, ready to try and let out a lie convincing enough for both him and yourself.

But it was impossible. You couldn’t keep doing this, not when, deep down, and no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you felt something more than just pleasure for Lando Norris. The fear of rejection… it terrified you. The thought of him turning you away, of losing what you had with him, was unbearable.

"Lando…"

"You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready," he interrupted. "But please… stop pushing me away. Stop making this to us."

"It’s just…"

Nothing. No matter how much you tried to explain yourself, to find a logical enough reason for your sudden ghosting, you couldn’t.

"It’s just what, Y/N?" the Brit pressed. "Are you afraid to take a risk? To admit something because you’re scared of what might happen next? Because you don’t want to change the life you’ve had until now? Because you want to…?"

Lando forced himself to stop. He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, turning his back to you. Guilt hit you immediately, your body trembling as the storm inside you began to break free. The driver rubbed his face, frustration radiating from him. This was exhausting him. You were exhausting him, to the point where he was starting to doubt his own feelings. Feelings that had started to grow the moment he realized it hurt when you ignored him, when you didn’t even send him a simple "Hey."

"I wish this were different, Y/N," he finally murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he turned to face you again. "I wish you didn’t make me feel like this. I wish I could just be content with what we had before and pretend none of this was happening…"

Your stomach twisted painfully. That was exactly what you had been thinking, the very reason you had pulled away from him and from whatever this was. You had ignored the fact that your feelings for Lando Norris had become something much stronger—maybe they had been there for far longer than you were willing to admit.

"Lando, listen" You tried to step closer, but he pulled away.

"No, Y/N, no," he said bitterly. "I tried convincing myself there was a reason you were ignoring me, acting like I was nothing to you, and then it hit me that I really want you as more than just someone to fuck."

"That…" you struggled to say, stepping toward him. This time, Lando didn’t stop you. The sincerity in your eyes, the way you looked both calm and nervous at the same time, made him realize he had to trust his instincts. And that was exactly what they were telling him.

"That’s what I wanted to tell you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but Lando still heard you. "That’s why I kept you on standby for two weeks… I knew this would change everything, that you’d react badly, that we’d end up fighting, and I… I didn’t know how to face the possibility of you rejecting… this."

Lando stared at you in surprise before a sad smile crept onto his lips.

"Y/N… I’ve always been good at reading signals, but this has been driving me fucking crazy."

"And you think it’s not been making me feel the same?" you shot back, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his. You didn’t resist, feeling how the both of you tensed at the contact. His lips inched toward yours, and when they finally met, the kiss was so fierce, so full of passion, that you ended up straddling him on the couch, moving against him, desperate to feel him. Even though you both knew there was still a race in two hours.

"I don’t want to touch you like this, Y/N," Norris whispered against your ear as you left small bites along his neck. "Y/N, stop it babe…"

"I don’t wanna be just another ex-love to you, Lando…" you murmured between kisses, still searching for friction between your bodies.

"And I don’t wanna miss you like your other lovers do, babe…"

This time, Lando gripped your waist firmly, flipping you onto the couch beneath him. His eyes never left yours as he carefully lifted your shirt and started massaging your breasts over your bra.

"I wanna be your end game, Y/N," Lando breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

Your breath came out in shallow pants, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge. Your hands gripped the unfastened gear around his waist, tugging lightly to keep him close.

"Then prove it."

"I have a race in two hours, love…" he murmured, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead to yours, his arousal growing.

"Then you better be quick," you teased, running your hands over his abs beneath the fireproof. "Especially if you don’t want Osc to hear us…"

"You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Y/N Piastri," Lando groaned as he trailed his fingers up your thighs, lowering himself before you. "Now, open your legs for me... You deserve a punishment after being such a bad, bad girl these past few days…"

[wandascrush]

Why the invite?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, AU Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x an annoying fiance

Summary: After years of not speaking, your old high school “situationship” invites you to her wedding

Warnings: kissing, hickeys, undercover homophobia, some light angst, a man makes an appearance

Song: Why did you invite me to your wedding by Kevin Atwater (lyrics highlighted in red)

The glow of your laptop screen is the only thing illuminating your bedroom, casting bluish light over the clutter of books and coffee mugs littering your desk. The world outside is quiet—as quiet as it gets for a bustling city. It’s 2:00 am, the kind of late where even the hum of the refrigerator feels deafening, except the occasional buzz of a notification.

   You should be sleeping. You have meetings in the morning, or at the very least, something better to do than mindlessly scrolling through Facebook. But here you are, trying to write and getting stuck after the first sentence. You could hear your editors voice scolding you already. So, you decided scrolling on socials instead was better- another engagement post. Another couple. Another pregnancy announcement. A reminder that your 20’s aren’t forever, and time is slowly marching forward.

Then, a notification pops up.

Wanda Maximoff has sent you a friend request. 

You freeze. 

   For a second, you think your brain is playing tricks on you. Maybe you’re too tired, and it’s not really her name flashing across the screen. But no—when you click on it, there she is. Wanda Maximoff, looking just as ethereal as ever in her profile picture. A cheerleader that aged well. That’s new.  The feeling that grips your chest is old.

You hesitate, fingers hovering over the mouse. It’s been years. At least six. She was your first, in more ways than one. Your first real love. Your first heartbreak. Your first lesson in how shame could be sharper than a knife.

A second notification chimes. A message.

Wanda Maximoff sent you a message.

I got your message, last night around 1

Your throat feels tight as you click. The message is short, simple. Too simple for the weight of the years between you.

“Hi. Hope you’re well. Also, save date! Marrid soon :)”

You’re getting married, and you want me to come

You immediately notice her grammar is off, and so is the way she spells “married.”  You miss me a lot and the wedding's next month I think you were drunk, you spelled "wedding" wrong

And then, attached below—an image.

 A cream-colored card, tastefully elegant, adorned with gold lettering. 

Wanda Maximoff & Victor Ivonis. 

Save the Date- come celebrate the lovely couple. It’s summer wedding, her favorite season. 

You don’t read the rest. You don’t need to. Your lips twitch into something that isn’t quite a smile. It’s funny, in a bitter sort of way.

Wanda is getting married. To a man. 

Of course she is.

You lean back in your chair, exhaling sharply. A laugh—dry, humorless—pushes past your lips. You squeeze the bridge of your nose, trying to process this random, and honestly, unwanted invitation. 

After all these years, this is how she comes back into your life. A friend request. A wedding invitation. Like you’re just another face in the crowd, another name on a guest list?

You close your eyes, and suddenly, you are in highschool again.

Back in the dimly lit parking lot after prom, the air thick with spring rain and the sound of Wanda’s whimpers filling the car. You remember her hands resting on your shoulders, fingers trembling, her lips parted like she wanted to say something as she reached her climax on your lap. The way your name fell off her lips sounded like heaven. You never forgot the feeling of her sucking possessive hickeys into your neck, never knowing what to tell people when they asked who they were from. Or how she looked at you when no one else was watching, like you were her whole world.

And the way she let you go.

Your fingers tighten around the mouse, the glow of the screen reflecting in your tired eyes. The past is knocking, uninvited, and you don’t know whether to open the door—or let it stay locked. 

And not for a moment does it escape you that Wanda invites you to her wedding, in the dead of the night, at 2 am. 

[slayfics]

Katsuki and Hitoshi fight over you.

Warnings: characters aged up, NSFW themes, angst

1k words

Explosions went off atop the building's roof as Katsuki continued to detonate his quirk. He thought it was his lucky day to run into Hitoshi. Until he realized what this fight would consist of.

Unable to expel his frustration in his usual insults and vile comments, due to Hitoshi’s quirk, Katsuki focused on setting off explosions.

Yet, Hitoshi had come a long way since his time at UA. Expertly bouncing around and using the capture scarf to swing and avoid the explosions.

Katsuki had wanted to knock the lights out of Hitoshi’s eyes for some time now. Ever since he found out about you two. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wrap his mind around you giving a hero like Hitoshi the time of day. What did you see in him?

So, when he ran into the brainwashing hero, he thought his wish was finally granted. However, now amid a spar with Hitoshi, the bitter realization sat in. He wouldn’t be able to say all the nasty words he saved up for the hero.

He wasn't able to tell Hitoshi that he wasn't a worthy enough hero to be with you. That he was a pathetic punk boy, Grimace-looking, Eeyore mother fucker. If he said any of the things he desperately wanted to, Hitoshi would brainwash him, and the fight would be over. Katsuki let out a huff of air and another explosion that Hitoshi dodged.

"We can talk like adults instead," Hitoshi said sliding across the roof.

Katsuki ignored Hitoshi's pleas and came at him with another attack that Hitoshi barely evaded.

"Trust me Bakugo, you don't want to do this," Hitoshi warned him. Katsuki's eyes flashed with fire, challenging Hitoshi. Despite Katsuki's continued silence, Hitoshi could understand his declaration of war clearly, and he wasn't lucky enough to dodge the next attack. Katsuki landed a blast on Hitoshi sending him flying and knocking against the roof railing.

"Fine, have it your way," Hitoshi said recovering from the blast and pulling on the railing to stand up. Finally, being pushed to his breaking point, Hitoshi decided to fight back. The only difference is that Katsuki's quirk worked with blunt power, while Hitoshi's focused on a psychological level. Hitoshi only had to break Katsuki into saying something, and he wasn't afraid to play dirty.

Hitoshi turned the dials on his voice modulator as Katsuki prepared his next blast.

"I want you to hear how she sounds for me," Hitoshi said, turning one last dial on his mask, as Katsuki lunged at him again.

That's when it happened, the sound that took the breath out of Katsuki's lungs. Your moans came from Hitoshi's mask. They were sweet and sexy as hell; the problem was you were moaning Hitoshi's name.

Katsuki fumbled for just a moment letting go of his blast, giving Hitoshi plenty of time to avoid it. Your moans came louder and faster from Hitoshi's mask, "Toshi... Toshi... Toshi~"

Katsuki bit his tongue biting back curses and rage, blood rushed through his mouth. The taste of copper dripped down his throat from the deep cut now on his tongue.

This was just an imitation of your voice. Yet, it sounded so real, and Katsuki knew it had to be true. Hitoshi had to have heard your moans himself to imitate you so perfectly. Worse. It meant he heard them more than once. Studied them.

Your moans increased to what Katsuki recognized so perfectly to be you reaching your climax, and it all came crashing down on him. You had cum for Hitoshi.

Katsuki lets out another blast, it's strong, too strong. Hitoshi barely gets out of the way. Katsuki huffs, fists clench. What's worse is you sound so fucking hot, and he can't help but feel the heat that runs through his body at hearing you again.

"We can stop this," Hitoshi offers, but Katsuki's frustration peaks, as more blasts fly. Katsuki's wrath and jealousy start to boil over into something he doesn't recognize.

Hopelessness.

Someone else is pleasuring you and there's not a damn thing he can do about it. The scene that flashes in Katsuki's mind makes his stomach sick. He can see the lavender-haired bastard on top of you, thrusting into your heat and the fucked-out expression on your face.

So much resentment and nowhere to put it, not even a damn word he can say for himself without losing this spar. He feels the lump in his throat form, and he can't stop it. His tongue almost bit in half, the tears finally form and cascade down his face.

Hitoshi notices this and gives Katsuki one last chance, "I'll stop if you do."

Katsuki keeps going, but his blasts aren't the same now. There is less passion behind them. It's sad to watch. Hitoshi barely has to dodge anymore. Katsuki's knees are weak, and his movements are slow and shaky.

"Not giving up, yet? Fine, hear what she said about you," Hitoshi speaks, changing his mask once more to imitate your voice.

Your voice breaks through Hitoshi's mask again. This time it’s your ugly cry that Katsuki knows so well. You're gasping for air as the words pour out, and it’s so clear it sounds as if you’re really here, “I loved him, but it wasn’t enough. He was always going to choose to be number one over me,” your voice cries and hiccups.

You had cried to Hitoshi about how Katsuki failed you, and now this was the outcome. Then comes the image in Katsuki’s mind, Hitoshi has his arms wrapped around you comforting you through your tears. Katsuki wants to rip you out of Hitoshi's arms, but he can’t because he drove you there.

Katsuki's knees give in, and he collapses to the floor. Gasping for air, his body racked with panic, fire extinguished. Taking rapid shallow breaths, he tries to regain himself.

Hitoshi walks over to the man he's brought to his knees without laying a finger on him.

"You done? Maybe next time we can talk like adults," Hitoshi mocks. Then departs, leaving the blond hero alone on the roof.

sinners: @izarosf1833 @stoned-anime-babe @lees-chaotic-brain @lunathewonyoungstan @sebsvertigo @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @peachsukii @reneinii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (12/?)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, descriptions of sexual fantasies, smut, the angst, semi-public sex, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

You will live with me.

She didn't know why this thought simultaneously frightened and relieved her.

The truth was that she had always wanted just that.

To be with him.

To their relief, Aegon recovered quickly and remembered his lesson well, appearing no more at his brother's premises.

The state in which he returned to her that morning, the way he looked, sobbing like a small child exactly as he had done then, that summer, meant that even though she knew what he had done was wrong, so very wrong, she could not denounce or reject him.

She knew that something had simply snapped inside him and that he was terrified that she would leave him now.

Although he had thought for sure that this would be the end of them, she saw his sincere despair, what he had hidden inside for so long as well as the depth of feelings, which made her finally believe that he really loved her.

He loved her and it was a love beyond reason, deep and hot, terrifyingly dark and giving her a sense of security at the same time.

From the moment she made her choice, it seemed to her that for some reason something had changed, although she did not know why.

In her mind, they had simply started living together as a couple.

They worked together, studied together, shopped and cooked together, talked for hours in bed, made love and fell asleep in each other's embrace only to wake up the next day and start all over again.

After she turned off her phone so she wouldn't see the missed calls from her mother and Jace, a strange calm settled in her mind.

The calm before the storm.

They both knew it, but they didn't talk about it, focusing more on spending time together, enjoying the simple closeness, the touch of each other's hands, the kisses on the forehead and nose, the safe, warm embrace of their arms.

Her uncle's jealousy had prevented him from forming any kind of relationship with Robb that she could recognise as warmth, however, the fact that he had then stood up for them meant that they had no longer glared at each other with malevolent glances and both seemed to have come to terms with their presence.

She knew that there had been some sort of complete climax of his emotions that morning, and that everything he had felt had poured out along with his tears, which had for some reason made his nature and behaviour soften a little, at least in her presence.

It seemed to her at certain moments that he was a child again: not in terms of his naivety or the vocabulary he used, but something in his gaze, his touch, the way that even when they were among other people he would lay his head on her thighs, sitting on the grass with her, used to her always stroking his hair, made her feel that he was that boy again.

He seemed tired to her, but also relaxed and at ease, his manner and reaction no longer so aggressive with his existence limited to working by her side and being as close to her as possible.

She knew he was trying to recover, to pull himself together after what had happened, to understand who he was now and what he really wanted.

This theoretical calm was disturbed when Criston called him, saying that his people wanted to meet with him to discuss a few things. The expression on his face as he listened to Cole was unnatural and some part of her thought he was afraid to go back there.

He was afraid of what they all thought of him now.

"Let me go with you." She said and before he could refuse, she completed her thought. "They know we're together. Let them see that I am doing this of my own free will. That you are no deviant or rapist."

He swallowed hard at her words, looking blankly at his phone, fighting with himself in his mind.

"…only this one time. On the condition that you stay next to me all the time and don't speak. Do you understand? Even if I tell them something you don't like. You can't rebuke me in front of my men." He said coolly, looking at her carefully, and she sighed.

"Do you really think I could do this to you?" She asked in pain, seeing that he was closing himself in the stone fortress of his mind again.

Something changed in his gaze, warmth and affection flashed across his face, proof that he felt something deep inside himself at her words.

"No. Of course not." He whispered in shame, looking down at his fingers as if to remind himself that, in fact, she had never done anything to hurt him.

That she had always been on his side.

She wasn't quite sure how a mafia boss's girlfriend should present herself: she imagined girls in short leather skirts and cabaret tights, with cut-out cleavage and strong, defiant make-up.

She decided she wasn't going to pretend to be someone she wasn't and wore a simple, black, tight-fitting dress, the only one she had with her, her hair loose and falling in light waves over her shoulders.

She wondered if her uncle would comment on her appearance in any way, he, however, was immersed deep in his thoughts, clearly impatient, walking around the room.

"Ready?" He asked as she turned towards him, and she nodded.

"Let's go."

As they got into the car, midnight struck on the clock: all around them the road was empty and dark. She swallowed quietly as she looked at her fingers, wondering if she should ask.

She decided, however, that she couldn't stand it and needed to know.

"Will Alys be there too?"

She noticed out of the corner of her eye that he flinched at the mention of that name and glanced at her quickly, surprised, looking back at the road after a moment.

"No. Where did that question come from?" He asked, forcing himself to be calm, but she heard his voice tremble.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he was terrified.

That there was something between them that he didn't want her to know about.

"She told me that you were sleeping with each other. I found out from her that you overdosed." She explained, turning her gaze towards the side window, feeling an unpleasant discomfort in her heart.

The thought of their naked, sweaty bodies entwined together, their heavy breaths, her hands trailing over his skin made her feel tears under her eyelids.

She heard him draw in a loud breath, at once terrified, impatient and frustrated, his tongue licking his lower lip before he spoke his next sentence.

"There's been nothing between us for over a year. Since…" He didn't finish and she looked at him, wondering if what she was thinking had happened.

He revealed to me the name he calls you by accident.

Let's just say it slipped out to him in a moment of elation because he forgot it wasn't you lying beneath him.

She remained silent, feeling that he was tense and angry, sensing subconsciously that if she kept dragging the subject and asking more questions, he would eventually explode.

There has been nothing between us for over a year.

Although she should be relieved, her body was filled with sadness, tears one after the other running down her cheeks at the thought that instead of writing her off, meeting her, he preferred to fuck another woman, to spend time with her, to open his heart to her.

"– hey – hey, baby – I told you, there's nothing between us anymore – why are you crying? –" He asked in a shaky voice, placing his hand on hers, his voice soft and quivering as his thumb stroked her skin in a gesture he surely wanted to comfort her with.

"– I wrote to you for eight years – begging you to see me – to talk to me – and you spent that time with her – that realisation hurts me so much –" She muttered in a breaking voice, suddenly bursting into sobs, hiding her face in her free hand, the other held clenched on his.

"– baby, no – no, no, no, shhh –" He mumbled out in a panic, stopping at the side of the road, leaning over her immediately as he switched on the emergency lights.

He stroked her cheek and unbuckled her seatbelt, pulling her close to him, and though she didn't want it, she allowed him to lift her awkwardly and sit her on his lap.

She twisted, trying to find some more comfortable position as his arms locked her in a tight embrace, snuggling her face into his neck. His lips placed several warm, lingering, sticky kisses on the skin of her face before he sighed heavily, apparently trying to gather his thoughts.

"– I was afraid to meet you – I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to let you go – that I would pull you down with me – and that's exactly what happened – with her I was only fulfilling my fantasies about you, but we weren't in a relationship – we were both sleeping with other people at the time as well –" He muttered and she just listened, shocked by his words, letting his fingers comb lazily through her long hair.

"– the first woman I fucked was twenty years older than me – I guess I was looking for a reflection of my mother in her and just wanted someone to hug me – when she put her hand in my trousers, when she sat on top of me – mmm – I felt dirty – I closed my eyes then and thought of you – I imagined you lying on a towel on the beach in a bathing suit, reading a book – I imagined that you looked at me and smiled – that you held out your hand to me and told me we should go swimming – that as soon as we were submerged in the water up to your waist, I drew you to me and kissed you –"

He whispered in a trembling, breaking voice, and she just continued in his embrace, horrified and heartbroken by what she was hearing, feeling herself whooping with her own tears as she tried to catch her breath.

They both sighed as one of his hands slid down to her thigh, travelling lower and lower.

"– I imagined that you enjoyed it – that you moaned when I enclosed your buttocks in my hands – when my fingers pushed the material of your panties aside and sunk in here –" He muttered, clearly letting his fantasies carry him away, brushing his lips against her neck as his fingers slid under the material of her underwear, invading her warm womanhood, dripping and pulsing because of his words.

"– I imagined that you were leaking for me – that when I slipped my fingers into you, you were all wet – ah –" He moaned as, in keeping with his words, he teased her throbbing pussy, moist and slick under his fingers, two of them slowly sliding deep into her slit.

"– Aemond – yes –" She whimpered and they kissed, hot and passionate, panting into each other's mouths, her hips involuntarily beginning to roll back and forth to the rhythm of his hand, letting his fingertips go as deep as he desired.

His tongue burst between her sweet, puffy lips at her words with his grunt of satisfaction, his hand let go of her and reached for his belt, undoing it in a quick, nimble motion.

"– come here –" He whispered, watching with dreamy eyes as she turned in his lap, slipping her panties off her legs, feeling like she was having déjà vu.

It had looked exactly the same when he had betrayed her.

She knew he wouldn't do it this time – the almost childlike helplessness in his eyes, his wide-open mouth, his erection pulsing in his hand which he squeezed with primitive, simple strokes merely looking at her.

She settled herself over him, slowly lowering herself onto the thick head of his cock: they both sighed loudly, wrinkling their brows as if in pain, their hands stroking their cheeks and hair in some powerless attempt to soothe each other.

"– Rhaenys –" He called out to her, as if melting into the darkness that was his heart, like Hades who called out to his Persephone from the cold, terrifying underworld, unable to bear separation any longer, wanting his wife back.

She was like Cora, stolen from her mother by her own uncle, the god of death, cold as black marble, who devoured her and her light every day.

She moaned into his mouth at that thought, letting their lips melt together in greedy, loud, fiery kisses full of their saliva, their tongues colliding and licking each other, their hands clenched on their bodies refusing to let go.

A pleasant tingling sensation rippled through her lower abdomen as she let him slide deep inside her, all the way in, responding eagerly to his every sharp, sure push.

"– yes – yes, yes, yes, baby, yes –" He breathed out into her throat, thrusting his hips forward so that he slammed into her at the angle where he could give her the greatest pleasure. She hugged his neck, pressing her forehead against his, looking deeply into his eyes, seeing in them everything she wanted.

He was helpless, weak, thirsty, terrified, in love.

"– please –" He mumbled, and she snuggled into him, sinking her swollen lips into his, feeling her weeping cunt begin to throb around his erection, sucking it inside. They both groaned, letting their bodies find their own pace, with the loud splats of their bodies building their way to their fulfilment.

"– I love you – I love you –" She whispered into his mouth again, again and again, feeling his cock twitching deep inside her each time, all wet with her fleshy walls, dripping with her desire, his fingers digging hard into the soft skin of her ass letting her know he was close to his peak.

His free hand tightened on her hair and his lips pressed against hers as he came inside her, bursting into a sob the sound of which was muffled by her throat, his eyes clenched in pleasure and pain as one by one tears began to run down his cheeks red with emotion.

There were no words with which she could reassure him, explain to herself or him the relief they felt when they both finally came to terms with what had happened, the fact that there was never any going back for them, that all the bad decisions they had made were because they believed they would only be a disappointment to each other.

Meanwhile, he had found peace, solace, fulfilment in her.

His lost haven.

She cuddled him into her, letting him snuggle against her chest, his arms enclosing her in a tight grip as her hand stroked his hair and face slowly, trying to reassure him.

"– I'm here – it's alright – shhh, my love –" She whispered, her voice like the quiet hum of the sea.

She felt him tremble all over with emotion, his breath heavy and uneven, his embrace pathetically childlike, innocent, wanting only to find shelter.

They lingered like this for a long time, trailing their fingers over each other's bodies, once in a while placing a gentle, warm, soft kiss on each other's skin, his soft manhood still deep inside her. His free hand stroked her bare buttock exactly as it had been before he had forcibly taken her for himself, never to return her again.

Her heart belonged to him.

Before she slid off him she kissed his forehead and his hand found hers, squeezing it, looking straight into her eyes.

"– I've never kissed any of them – I've never fallen asleep next to any of them –" He mumbled, and she smiled, wide and genuine.

They kissed again, this time tenderly and innocently, like when they were children, eight years ago, their lips only pressed together.

She sat down on the seat next to him as he switched off the emergency lights and moved on, trying hard in the darkness to find her panties. When she finally succeeded, she put them on over her legs and sighed.

His hand found hers blindly, their fingers entwined in a warm, sweet embrace.

Her heart was filled with affection so intense that she felt like it would burst.

When they got out of his car and she saw the big blue neon sign in front of her with the words Heavenly Beach and the two palm trees standing just outside the entrance, she felt herself grow sick at the mere memory of what had happened to her there – her uncle must have seen the horror in her eyes, as he walked up to her and placed his hand on her back.

"– let's go –" He said, his hand rising from her back to her shoulder, stroking her skin with his thumb.

The security guards standing in front of the entrance made big eyes at the sight of them – or rather at the sight of her uncle – and of course let them pass without a line, muttering under their breath a quiet ‘good evening, boss’.

He, however, did not answer them, not even bestowing a single glance on them, stepping into his role – when she looked at his face it was like stone, his gaze blank and dark.

Exactly as it was then, that day, during his father's birthday, when they were talking on the pier.

He let her walk in front of him between the people, but his fingers touched her waist, her shoulder, or her back again and again, as if he wanted to give her a sense of security, the fact that he was close and nothing was threatening her.

She swallowed hard as she saw that people sitting at tables or dancing on the dance floor were looking at them, saying something to each other, intrigued and terrified.

She wondered if they had just talked to each other about the fact that she was the famous girl he was related to and liked to fuck.

Although she shouldn't, she felt amusement and pride at the thought.

For her he had given up everything.

For her he defied his grandfather.

For her, he became a different kind of monster.

Her Hades.

When they reached the lodge where his men and associates were apparently seated, everyone froze: there were young girls hugging most of them, some looking more defiant, others sweet, laughing loudly, looking at her with big eyes.

On the table, besides whisky and vodka, lay a white powder that they were apparently just snorting through their noses.

She stopped and looked at her uncle, not knowing what to do or where to sit, after a moment, however, several men moved over, making room for them, seating themselves on the other side.

"– come –" He whispered in her ear so that she barely heard it, his hand touching her back.

So she sat up first, not knowing where to look, and he sat down beside her, his hand immediately on the side of her waist, holding her close.

"– why are there such delays in payment? – I warned your father that one more situation like this and I would take over the Black Storm – I knew he had problems with reading, but I didn't know he had them with counting as well –" Her uncle hissed harshly and coldly, looking over the gathered with a gaze from which she herself shuddered, yet feeling no fear.

His thumb stroked her waist almost invisibly, but she felt it, his gesture indicating that she shouldn't worry about it and let him do his thing.

One of the girls twisted in place, crossing her legs, bending over slightly, probably because she wanted her rather impressive cleavage to be seen better. She smiled in a way that was probably meant to be seductive, but she wasn't sure it impressed her uncle.

When she looked at his face she could see that he was bored and impatient.

"– my father is not happy with the fact that you have assigned him so few people – by having so much goods coming through the club, he thinks he deserves more protection –" She said, fiddling with her necklace with the logo of some expensive, tacky shop.

"– Floris –" Her uncle began, rather calmly and gently. "– don't piss me off –"

The girl swallowed hard, her hand frozen in a half-motion, as if she wondered if she had overheard herself.

"– your father got as much of my people as I saw fit – if he has a grievance, let him sell the club back to me and I'll pay him off – the deal was different – several of my boys complained about you and your sisters not knowing the boundaries of good manners and that you make them drive around town like princesses in their free time –" He said coldly, complete silence all around him.

She looked at him in disbelief, seeing the fire in his gaze, his jaw clenched in rage, his fingers on her waist involuntarily digging into her skin under her dress.

Her heart was pounding like mad.

Floris licked her full lower lip, clearly thinking hard about something.

"– is that your famous niece? – her persona is already legendary in our circles –" She said, something in her uncle's gaze that frightened her.

His face was suddenly indifferent, his irises completely black and empty: she thought he looked like a predator who was just looking at his prey.

She involuntarily touched his thigh, wanting to reassure him, but he didn't look at her, apparently afraid that he would then step out of his role.

"– what's your name? –" She turned suddenly towards her, all eyes on them.

She froze, not knowing what to do or say, for she was not supposed to speak after all – she looked at her uncle, his gaze fixed on her face, full of pain, rage, but also affection.

She felt his hand stroke her waist, his wordless permission for her to speak.

She looked around at the faces around her, men and women huddled against their chests, staring at her as if she were some rare object in a museum they were looking at from behind glass.

"– Rhaenys –" She whispered.

She felt his hand on the back of her head, and with a soft movement he forced her to lean in, nuzzling her face into the hollow of his neck, as if he wanted to protect her.

"– you will get one more of my men, but no more driving you shopping or to the beautician – my men are not your dogs –" He said coolly, but already a little more politely, as if he hoped that if he complied with her request, she would leave her alone.

Floris wanted to say something, but was interrupted by another man, tanned and handsome, with dark hair elegantly combed back and an evenly trimmed beard.

"– we have a problem with one of the deliveries – several packages are stuck at the border – the police are bribed, but the prosecutor's office is snooping around and trying to get the secret service involved –" He said, and her uncle sighed heavily, hugging her closer to him, putting his hand on her head so that he covered her ear.

He didn't want her to listen.

"– talk to who you need to talk to, Cole – we're not short of money, but we're short of trusted people – we need someone in the prosecutor's office – let them focus on the human traffickers, not us –" He said, but she heard it as if through a fog, the blinking, bright lights around her tiring her already exhausted eyes, so she just closed them.

She could hear conversations and music all around her, felt her uncle glancing down at her, stroking her back, apparently wanting her to just fall asleep in his embrace. As a natural reflex, she placed her hand on his chest, where his heart was beating, and he did not push her away.

She could feel him smoking a cigarette, the smell of his black leather jacket, his aftershave and his own scent calmed her, making her finally do what he wanted and fall asleep.

She shuddered when she felt him shake her gently, there was no one around them on the couch. He took a strand of her hair behind her ear, his lips placing a soft, tender kiss on her forehead.

"– we'll sleep here in my office and drive back to the hotel in the morning – okay? –" He whispered, and she only nodded.

She let him take her in his arms and lift her up, holding her buttocks. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging her cheek to his, seeing the last drunken people sitting at the bar and dancing on the dance floor, barely able to stay on their feet, as if through a haze.

They walked into some dark corridor, then she heard the clack of keys and the sound of a door opening. When they got inside it was completely dark until he turned on the desk lamp – he walked over to the sofa and laid her on it, pulling his leather jacket off over her head.

He turned off the light and came to her, laying on the cramped space behind her back, covering their bodies with his jacket, his face snuggled into the hollow of her neck, his hands closed on her breasts.

"– sleep – you're safe with me –" He whispered, and she simply tightened her fingers on his arms, surrounded by his wonderfully familiar warmth.

"– you're my Hades – and I'm your Persephone – that's how I see us –" She hummed, half asleep, and he froze, cuddling her into himself harder.

"– Persephone –" She heard him hum next to her ear and closed her eyes, feeling at peace.

His Queen of the Underworld.

She thought she had only been sleeping for a few minutes when the alarm clock on his phone snapped them out of their deep slumber, but it turned out that it had actually been several hours. They left the club through the back exit to which her uncle had the keys and got into his car, barely conscious and tired.

"– I need to get a coffee at some station –" He muttered, starting the engine, and she nodded.

She couldn't believe that the boy who sat next to her now and the one she saw then, at that table, were the same person.

They stopped at the station to buy themselves something to drink and to eat. Her boyfriend stepped behind her, placing his hands on her hips, leaning over her ear.

"– look how many lollipops you have, a whole lot to choose from – I'll buy you some if you want –" He murmured, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, and she smiled involuntarily, feeling a pleasant warmth in her belly at his words.

"– strawberry –" She said and heard him smile too, satisfied.

"– I'll have coffee, tea, two sandwiches, this strawberry lollipop and this candy bracelet –" He said and she hugged him like a teddy bear, feeling only joy, only peace.

She didn't know how it was possible that they were so happy, that in some fucked up, unexplained way it was working.

They, together.

It seemed so right.

As they moved further down the road it was just beginning to dawn. Eating her lollipop and looking around it was only after a while that she noticed they were driving the wrong way.

"– where are we going? – you need to turn back –" She said, looking behind her, feeling a sudden attack of panic and terror.

No, no, no, no, please, God, no.

Her uncle looked at her surprised, his mouth parted wide when he realised what had frightened her.

"– no – no, baby, easy – we'll go back to the hotel, but later – there's one place I want to visit on the way – nothing bad, I promise –" He said, squeezing her hand in his, but she remained uneasy until she realised that she had seen the landscapes they passed before.

They were driving to the sea.

She felt a tightness in her throat as he parked close to the beach, on the other side of which was the large villa that now belonged to him, where they had then spent their entire holiday.

As soon as they got out of the car she was struck by the pleasant, crisp sea breeze, the squeal of seagulls flying over their heads and that familiar hum. She moved ahead thinking how when she was a child it all seemed so much bigger to her, reaching into infinity, as if this sea had no end.

She felt the tears one by one run down her face as she heard their childish voices in the back of her head, the precious coins, shells, cartridges and bottles they found, thinking themselves explorers.

She pulled off her shoes as she stepped onto the sand, wanting to feel it under her feet – it was pleasantly warm and soft, slightly damp, exactly as she remembered it. She only stopped at the shore, the salt water washing over the toes of her feet, the sun rising lazily over the horizon.

She felt his arms embrace her shoulders, snuggling her back into his body, his lips placed a soft, gentle kiss on her neck.

"– in my fantasies, I always imagined that I would take you here again – that I would be standing with you, as I am now, watching the sun rise –" He said, she heard him smile, while at the same time his voice was breaking, as if he was as moved as she was.

Her fingers clenched on his arms at the thought, her hair blown by the light breeze.

"– have you often thought about what we have lost here? –" She asked quietly, looking far ahead, thinking that somehow a new day had dawned for them too.

She swallowed hard when his fingers ran over the inside of her wrist, tracing the thin line of her scar.

"– relentlessly – it was like torture – thinking of hundreds of scenarios – what would have happened if I hadn't been your uncle, if my father hadn't been submerged in all that shit, if I hadn't lost an eye then, if Rhaenyra hadn't taken you away from there that day –" He said with a regret from which she felt a sting in her heart.

She looked at him over her shoulder, and his full lips, in some natural, sweet reflex of tenderness, placed a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.

"– I took you from your mother – I forced you to sink into the darkness with me –" He whispered, stroking her silky cheek with his thumb, something in the look of his healthy eye from which she felt a pleasant pulsing between her thighs.

"– it was my choice this time –"

He swallowed hard at her words, something in his gaze from which she felt a shiver, as if he had made a decision.

"– I want to be the father of your children – I want us to be a family – to have a home – a future –" He whispered, letting her go slowly – as she turned, he saw that he had knelt down.

"– Aemond, what are you –" She gasped, terrified, unsure if he really wanted to do what she was thinking, his gaze hot and pleading, filled with tears.

"– I want it, Rhaenys – fuck, I've always wanted it – I don't give a shit about this country, about the law, about morality, about good manners, about how and why we're related –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, looking at her with eyes big with terror and affection, making her heart stop in her throat.

"– but if I pay the right people, if we get a dispensation, we can have a religious marriage, the one in the church – I don't give a damn if I have to bribe the Pope himself and all the cardinals in the Vatican, I don't care how long it takes – please –" He sobbed, clamping his hands on her waist, pressing his face into her stomach, trying to catch his breath.

She swallowed hard, feeling her hands tremble, still raised in the air, tears one by one running down her face red with emotion.

After all, they had been together for such a short time, she thought.

And yet they had loved each other all their lives.

"– yes –" She whispered.

She saw him lift his head, meeting her gaze, his lips parted in a heavy breath of shock and disbelief.

"– do you mean it? –"

She nodded, not knowing what more she could say, feeling helpless and ashamed.

"– we've completely lost our minds –" She mouthed, wiping her red face, trying to calm down as he got up quickly from his knees, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket.

She involuntarily burst out laughing when she saw that he had taken out the candy bracelet he had bought her earlier at the station.

"– what? – they didn't have rings – I had a difficult task –" He grunted, putting the bracelet on her wrist, sweet and colourful.

She looked up at him with a smile as he pulled her close, looking at her with a gaze in which she saw only love.

"– then you get to pick out a real ring for yourself, and this is something you can eat – it's a win-win situation –" He purred, and as she threw her arms around his neck they kissed tenderly, melting their lips together in a warm, moist kiss.

She stroked his cheek as he pressed his forehead against hers, both of them looking sideways towards the building that had once belonged to his father.

"That's where we'll raise our children. One day."

They walked the distance to the house where they had spent that holiday on foot along the beach, holding hands, taking exactly the same route as every day when they seemed to be the happiest children in the world.

When they finally arrived at their destination and her uncle opened the door with the keys he had taken out of his trouser pocket, she was struck by how, although everything looked the same, it was completely different. The main hall and corridor seemed cramped to her, the smell inside was stifling, indicative of the fact that no one had gone inside for many years.

They both made their way up the stairs – she involuntarily headed for the room that belonged to her at the time.

She looked inside, feeling some strange kind of discomfort and fear, as if she were about to see something terrifying. However, she saw before her an ordinary, bright little room with white wooden furniture, the bed she had slept on for the first few nights, a desk, a few chairs and a wardrobe.

She approached it with a smile, seeing that it was, as always, slightly ajar, the long, old gowns of Alicent sticking out of it.

"– I always thought it was the tentacles of a monster – that's what it looked like at night – I was afraid someone was hiding inside and would devour me –" She said, stepping closer, tucking the soft material into her fingers, feeling her uncle's presence behind her.

She heard him swallow hard, his fingers running over her back in an affectionate gesture.

"– let's go to my room –"

She stared at the bookshelf filled with small volumes of Mighty Vhagar stories panting along with him, hearing his grunts and sighs of pleasure at her ear each time with the soft, lazy thrust of his hips he sank into her moist, warm flesh, welcoming him home.

They were bare; the embrace of their arms held them close, as if they felt subconsciously that they needed to experience this together, here, in this place, to take something that had been taken from them. Her fingers traveled along his neck and down his spine to his buttocks, kneading them in her palms, his low groan of pleasure and the shudder that shook him testified to what he thought of her touch.

"– who took you for the first time? – hm? –" He breathed out into her ear, stroking her soft hair, slowly quickening his pace.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, letting his full, thirsty mouth find the crook of her neck, her leaking pussy opening again and again on his hard, swollen erection, filled to the brim with him.

"– you – here, on this bed –" She whispered and felt his cock throb harder inside her, delighted by her response. His fingers clamped down on the soft skin of her cheeks, forcing her to look at him, his mouth wide open, his gaze clouded with pleasure and something else, darker, deeper.

"– are you sure? – not some Robb? –" He hissed, something in his words sounding both threatening and despairing at the same time, his deep desire to regain everything in his mind he had lost over these eight years.

She shook her head, combing her fingers through his short hair, spreading her thighs wider in front of him, rocking her hips in response to his lustful, sharp thrusts, the slapping of their bodies against each other loud and shameless, sticky with her moisture.

"– no – Alys, Robb – it was just a dream, my love –" She whispered. His brow arched in pain as he leaned towards her, his puffy, moist lips finding hers in a sweet, tender, warm kiss, at once childlike and mature, full of affection.

They groaned into each other's throats as his wide hands clamped down on the soft skin of her buttocks, his hips began to slam into her slick, throbbing pussy as if he wanted to erase any trace that deep inside her could ever be another man.

"– I will never let you go –" He breathed out, their tongues meeting halfway, licking the very tips of each other, making them both gasp with delight.

She threw her arms around his neck and let him sink into her mouth, his body pressing her to the bed, which creaked loudly beneath their silhouettes writhing in ecstasy, the slaps and clicks of her moisture so loud that its sound brought her to the edge of her peak.

"– uncle – take care of me – ah –" She mewled and threw her head back, moaning from the sweet delight that shook her body, his loud, surprised gasp told her that he had come too, his body froze in stillness, wanting to focus only on the greedy pulsing of their bodies around each other.

She felt his warm seed inside her, a pleasant tingling in her lips, in her nipples and the corners of her fingers at the thought that her own uncle loved her a little too much.

Afterwards, they lay in silence, cuddled into each other: her head was lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, the fingers of his hand roaming her naked body from her shoulders, to her head, neck and back, making her shiver.

"– our parents will never accept this –" She whispered, stroking his stomach with her hand. She heard him sigh softly, his fingers combing through her hair.

"– it's too late anyway –"

Although they were terribly tired and could barely see with their eyes, trying to stay awake while they worked, they were both happy. Even though no one understood the meaning of the bracelet on her wrist, he kept playing with it when he said or asked her something, making her walk around smiling all day.

And then she noticed her mother in the distance talking to her professor.

"Miss Strong. Would you please come over?" He called out, and she froze, feeling her heart stop beating.

She'd endured anything, the screams of Daemon and Jace, but not this.

Not her.

When she looked at her uncle, she saw panic in his eyes.

She lowered her head and moved forward, unable to even look at her.

They sat down in one of the tents where the workers usually rested during breaks, but now it was empty, and she knew that this conversation could not be heard by anyone.

Her mother's hand clamped down on hers as soon as he sat down next to her, its familiar touch making her feel tears welling under her eyelids and a deep, all-encompassing shame.

"Why aren't you answering your phone? Do you know what it feels like to die of worry and then hear that your child has turned up with a gangster at his club? What did he do to you that you do things like that, get sucked into this world?" She asked in pain, and she remained silent, looking at her legs, feeling her whole body was shaking.

When she finally looked at her, what she said slipped out of her involuntarily.

"Then, during that holiday by the sea, before he lost his eye. We kissed. I was even his girlfriend for a while. He let me sleep in his bed when I was afraid of the dark." She muttered, feeling the tears of shame run down her face one by one.

Rhaenyra shook her head, looking at her as if she did not understand what she had just heard.

"It never ended between us, Mum. Quite the contrary. We sleep together. We are together." She sobbed out with difficulty, and her mother took her hand from hers, looking at her with wide eyes.

"What did he do to you, what did he put into your head to make you do such awful things? He is using you to show everyone that he has me and Daemon in his grasp. That he rules this city because neither I nor his grandfather can do anything to him now. He brags about you like a trophy. Good God, this is not how I raised you." She said in a quivering voice full of regret and disappointment, from which her heart broke.

She pressed her lips together, playing with the bracelet on her wrist in a nervous gesture, seeing a scar beneath it, his two faces, two parts of his love.

Light and Darkness.

Kora and Persephone.

Her mother had to come to terms with the fact that from now on she would spend part of the year in Hades.

She drew in air loudly, whooping with tears, not knowing what to say.

The words he loves me sounded so cheesy and naïve.

"I love him, Mom. I want to stay by his side."

Her mother shook her head, as if her words had made something inside her snap.

"He will destroy you. He'll drown you in his own greed like tar. He's already done it. He manipulated you into leaving us, your own family."

"It was my decision." She said in pain, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her breath heavy and ragged.

"You have completely lost your mind." She said coldly, rising from her seat, making her freeze all over, feeling a squeeze in her throat. "The door to your home will always remain open for you when your common sense returns. You are an adult and sooner or later you will feel the consequences of your choice. You will never be safe again, you will never be able to go anywhere alone, he will create a cage for you, just like…"

"… just like the one Daemon created for us? I've managed to get used to it. I, at least, don't pretend to be free." She growled, surprised by her own words.

Her mother pressed her lips together in pain and walked out, leaving her with a complete emptiness in her mind.

She felt awful – as she walked out, she felt the sun hit her hard, her face flooded with tears. Her uncle approached her quickly, horror and concern on his face.

"– what did she say? – no, no, calm down – calm down, shhh, come here –" He muttered as she went into a state of complete panic, covering her face with her hands, bursting into such a strong sob that she felt like she was about to spit out her own lungs.

She was unable to control herself or calm down, everything around her seemed to be spinning, his warm hands and arms cradling her was the only thing that kept her from falling to her knees.

You will never be safe again.

You will never be able to go anywhere alone again.

He will create a cage for you.

But wasn't that the life she had lived for as long as she could remember?

Her father, Daemon, her uncle.

She was never free.

She just didn't realise it as a child.

That night they only embraced, but there was something beautiful about it: the thought that he knew she didn't want sex now, but his closeness and tenderness, his broad hands stroking her back and hair, his full lips kissing again and again her forehead and nose.

"When I live with you, will I be able to go out alone?" She asked quietly, and he swallowed hard, running his fingers down her back, surprised by her question.

"Well… it depends where and during what time of day." He said uncertainly, tense.

She pressed her hands tighter against his warm skin – it was so hot he was only wearing black tracksuit bottoms.

"To the shop. To the bookshop. To class." She whispered, his lips placing another warm kiss on her forehead, clearly wanting to soften what was about to leave his throat.

"I'm constantly being watched. People who don't wish me well probably already know that you're not just a chick I fuck. You are my weakness and if I lose my guard, they will try to take advantage of that. I would prefer to keep the risk that something could happen to you to a complete minimum." He explained hesitantly, brushing his fingertips against her collarbone.

"So no." She said regretfully, feeling an unpleasant chokehold in her throat at the thought that she had escaped from one cage only to be locked in another.

She heard him sigh as he lifted her chin with his finger so that she looked at him.

"If something were to happen to you because of me. How would I explain it to your mother? To Daemon? How would I continue to live with it? We can go to your classes together. You can be driven to the shop and other places by my people, who will just wait for you in the car and not bother you. We will work something out. You are not my prisoner, but I have to keep you safe in some way. Do you understand me?" He asked, and she looked at him.

"Are you going to check my phone?"

"No."

"How can I be sure?"

"I trust you."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, his fingers tracing gently across her cheek making her feel a pleasant shiver run down her spine.

"I want you to take me with you when you run your errands."

"Absolutely not." He replied immediately, his face curved in an expression full of annoyance and frustration.

"Why? You did it last time." She muttered in pain, feeling rejected, like a small child who could not be trusted with an adult task.

"It was a mistake. I exposed you." He said regretfully, his thumb running over the line of her jaw. "It will never happen again."

"So you're going to come back in the morning to fuck me, have breakfast, go for a walk with Vhagar, sleep off, and then disappear again, leaving me alone?" She asked with despair, unsure if she could bear what he asked of her.

She saw him press his lips together, horrified at how it sounded from her mouth, certainly simply not knowing what to say.

"What do you expect from me?" He asked quietly. She was silent for a moment, feeling the quick pounding of her heart.

"Honesty. If I have to endure this in silence, I want to know what's going on. I want you to tell me what's happening in your clubs and pubs, what problems you're having, what you're facing, who you're seeing. Because if you can't give me either honesty, freedom or choice, then there's no hope for us."

"Would you leave otherwise?" He asked, looking at her with his eyebrows arched in pain, stroking her warm cheek with his palm.

"If you had locked me away, told me nothing and treated me as your consolation prize after a hard day? What would you do if I made you sit in my flat, while I met with Robb? You would certainly be a happy, fulfilled man then." She said coldly, making him swallow hard, lowering his gaze in shame.

"In that case, I'll tell you everything." He whispered.

She shook her head and grinned under her breath, feeling tears under her eyelids.

"You know what the worst thing is? That I don't believe you."

He looked at her, his eyes big and filled with suffering, as if something in those words of hers had hurt him particularly badly.

"I'm trying."

She felt her heart squeeze at his words, which were so simple, so direct.

So sincere.

Because, after all, she knew they were true.

"I know."

He licked his lower lip and drew in air, as if he was thinking very hard about what he wanted to say, as if he was afraid he wouldn't be able to describe it properly.

"I get the feeling that whatever I do – no matter how hard I try – it's not enough for you. You always want more. As if it were that simple. To protect you at the same time, to meet all your needs, to not come into conflict with Daemon and to be a good student. I stand caught between dozens of things and get lost in it. The right choice in one context is the wrong one in another. I don't know what to do to please you anymore." He confessed in a trembling voice filled with regret, sadness and fatigue, from which she felt ashamed.

While her feelings and thoughts were valid, she realised on hearing his words that she had put an enormous amount of pressure on him without even thinking about how he would be able to bring all these things together and at the same time make their world not fall apart.

"You're right. I'm sorry." She whispered, his eyes growing wide in surprise, as if he hadn't expected to hear that from her. "I know how hard you're trying. I'm proud of you and I love you more than ever before. The reason I have a lot of concerns is because I realise how difficult our situation is. I just want us to succeed."

"I want us to succeed too." He muttered. "It's the only thing I want. But please, baby, try to understand me."

There was something sweet and natural about the way their bodies snuggled into each other and embraced, wanting to comfort and soothe each other, to give them the feeling that they were trying to find their way together.

She decided that there was no turning back for her now.

Parting from him would mean that she would always be dying in agony.

When their work ended, their professor thanked and congratulated them all, telling them that all the objects they found would be exhibited in the castle museum after conservation.

Her fiancé was tired, but also happy: after just a few days there he was able to work independently, knew the procedures and was able to find his way in this rather chaotic world.

The oldest thing he found were the remains of a beautiful medieval steel dagger, of which he even took a photo as a souvenir.

She thought fondly that their childhood play had turned into a passion.

They were both excited at the thought of her moving into his apartment. It was in the city centre in a very nice, modern high-rise building and was surprisingly large.

When she stepped inside, she noticed a huge space stretching out in front of her: the gigantic living room was decorated with nice modern dark wood furnitures. A big sofa, bookshelves and a TV was practically all that was there – one of the walls was composed of only windows, making the whole room seem incredibly bright.

Adjacent to the living room was the kitchen on one side, while on the other stretched a small corridor leading to other rooms and the bathroom.

"Where is Vhagar?" She asked, not seeing her or her bedding. Her uncle looked at her surprised, placing their bags on the floor.

"At Helaena's. She took care of her while we were away. She'll bring her back tonight." He explained and nodded for her to follow him.

He opened one of the rooms in front of her, which looked like a gym and storage for things that didn't fit in the other rooms.

"It can be your room. So you can run away from me when you want and all that. I'll organise a gym in the basement, it's quite spacious." He hummed, running his hand over her back. She looked up at him and nodded.

"I've ordered a removal team for your house. They should bring everything tomorrow if they don't encounter any difficulties." He said, heading towards the kitchen. "I don't have anything to eat. We have to go shopping."

They spent the rest of the day lazily – they cooked the simplest spaghetti and ate it while watching TV – there was a programme on ancient Egyptian history that was airing at the time, which piqued their interest, so they just spread out on the sofa with their bowls and listened to a lecture by one of Egypt's most famous archaeologists as he spoke about the pyramid at Giza.

It was so wonderfully normal.

She felt uncomfortable when Helaena brought Vhagar – she didn't know where to look, thinking with shame that she must have thought she was a complete idiot after trying to take her own life by living with the man who did this to her in the first place.

"Are you two together?" She asked softly, and her brother nodded.

"I'm glad. Take care of each other." She said, and she felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she was the first person to wish them well.

Her uncle looked at her, a gentle smile on his face that made her hot.

Hades and Persephone.

"We will."

_____

Author's note: My husband often asks me when we argue what I expect from him and describes his feelings about how the situation looks from his perspective. He doesn't do it maliciously, and it helps me understand that sometimes I really want something different than what I say and that there is often a lot of truth in his words. I didn't know for a long time how to lead the conversation between Aemond and Rhaenys at the very end when they talk about their future and difficult topics and it turned out that the best scripts are written by life, lol.

[ne-videl]

𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽'𝓼 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶

♡

yandere Rezef Hill x immortal fem reader

quirks of eternal life and the obsessed prince.

yandere, sfw, mentions of violence, kidnapping & imprisonment, angst??, you are immortal and reaaly bored, poor english, possibly wild image of high society bc real history suck

word count: ~3.5k

a/n: hii!!

exams be killing me

glad its over until the next year but I still have a shit ton of books to read at summer bc I'm in literature class (Tolstoy I hope ur spinning in your grave I don't want to read 3rd and 4th tome of war and peace but I have to)

anyway for this fic I re-read first chapters and?? Rezef is such a dick in the beginning?? and I forgot abt it??

also when I think about someone immortal this type of person just comes to mind (I mean ofc u don't give a damn about some angry man, you literally have been through everything) and don't worry about Cayena she's chilling in a nice place

indeed, lady [name], you are shining brighter than usual today. you've only recently returned to the capital, haven't you?" – at that warm evening, a pretty young girl was chirping in your ear, sitting with you on a luxurious sofa in the ballroom.

you listened with half an ear to a mixture of flattery and sincere admiration, looking into nowhere from under your eyelashes.

the ball was playing its climax, and the guests were harmoniously spinning in a german waltz. others, more noble and older, entertained themselves with idle conversations.

you too, thanks to your position, were little constrained by the limits of secular norms, and did not bother dancing. tonight you wanted anything other than to gallop around the stuffy hall. your eyes, devoid of the childish brilliance peculiar to your peers, looked indifferently at the guests.

the ball in honor of the beginning of summer was a great event, even the royal family usually participated in it; such celebrations instilled in their noble participants a sense of reverence for the higher-ranking present and idle anticipation of the upcoming entertainment.

but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't see anything more from the height of your velvet sofa than pretentiously dressed men and women; strangely moving, stiffly dancing and talking vague figures under the sickening light of numerous chandeliers. all this in the stuffy luxury of the hall seemed to you so fake, pretentious and unnatural that you could barely restrain yourself from haughty laughter, or from a bored sigh.

[name], beautiful [name]! daughter of the richest man in the empire, a brilliant socialite, trendsetter and muse of famous poets.

you vaguely remembered what was inside some rubbish that you read about a hundred years ago, you don't know when and you don't know where.

and although in your case, "a hundred years" might not be just a phrase, you couldn't care less. whether this the fifth life or the hundredth – what's the difference? right, there's none – you thought lazily, openly staring at the crown prince exchanging pleasantries with representatives of the capital's bohemians.

like you, who on the last night of spring were dressed up like a Christmas tree, his highness shone with the white brocade of his suit today. eyes with the color of ceylon sapphire peeked out from under his golden bangs, giving everyone present the condescending look of the royalty. little prince – as you laughingly called him to yourself – was handsome to the point that young girls blushed deeply as soon as they saw him, and married ladies sighed dreamily.

at the sight of the handsome prince, some memory cracked in your skull, however, it died as quickly as it appeared. this and a thousand other memories were simply not worth your attention, and, of course, you never scolded yourself for the forgetfulness inherent in your age. you were above it all.

Rezef easily distinguished among the crowd a lady dressed in thick silk with bare shoulders. on your neck, which he did not hesitate to stare at, there was a pair of pearl necklace with a large emerald. when you met his gaze, you smiled falsely and slightly bowed your head.

middle-aged count, whose name he could not remember, looked at the woman in the corner of the hall, and scratched his gray beard with a smile.

"gorgeous, isn't she?" – an old dog next to him grinned vulgarly – "the beauty of the empire, they say."

"what a wonder." – Rezef did not take his strangely enchanted gaze off you, and the words escaped from his lips with a gasp – "it's not a pity to fall in love with such a creature." – he said maliciously, as if he concluded for himself.

the crown prince walked towards you, ignoring the knowing look of the nameless old man beside him.

he walked confidently, with a deceptively friendly smile, and would have been incredibly ridiculous to you if he hadn't been so handsome.

"good night to you, lady [name]." – Rezef smiled warmly, and held out his hand in a snow-white glove to you, – "may I keep you company?"

he kissed your palm, and without waiting for consent, sat down next to you.

you talked about various nonsense; Rezef did not take his shining eyes off you and listened, and you chatted in a dry tone about the opera, exhibitions and the weather in the capital, hardly forcing yourself to remember the topics that the ladies had already retold a hundred times.

but the guests were invited to the cotillion, and you left the little prince as easily as you accepted him into your shining company.

with the last round of the dance, everything that was happening completely mixed up in your head into a bright, stuffy mess, accompanied by the imperial orchestra and the clatter of shoes on the lacquered parquet.

and in the end, caught by the prince's arm, you were only a little confused, but you didn't show it.

"why won't you stay the night at the palace?" – Rezef said, whose broad chest rose and fell rapidly after dancing, just like your own.

you raised your eyebrows, looking at him from under your eyelashes, and fell into thought, accompanied by the prince to one of the front balconies.

normally, you wouldn't mind spending the night with such a handsome man, but today you didn't want carnal pleasures at all. and of course, you could afford to just turn down the prince like that; just because you're not in the mood, just because you don't want to.

"thank you for the offer, your highness, however, I will refrain." – you said.

for a second, when his eye twitched, you saw something unpleasantly bitter in Rezef's soft features, a mixture of disappointment with something else. but you didn't care to the depths of your callous heart; today you're not in the mood, today you're not having any fun at all.

and what was the point of that endless journey that you called life if you weren't having fun?

Rezef fell silent, maintaining his sugary smile and standing next to you, and you leaned on the marble railing, looking up at the sky.

the pale disk of the moon is floating high on the horizon. there was music coming from the ballroom, the rustle of dresses and the clatter of shoes, irritating your ears; the little prince had been gathering his thoughts for a couple of minutes to speak; and you rested your chin on your silk-gloved hand.

"tell me, lady [name]." – your bored gaze returned to the Crown Prince, – "this night, the moon and the stars, and me, doesn't that remind you of anything?"

you raised your eyebrow. even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to remember; over the years, memories inevitably dimmed and got lost.

Rezef looked at you expectantly, with almost childish anticipation. a sick gleam flashed in his eyes.

the longer your silence dragged on, the more you disliked his face, his eyes; the childish interest in his handsome features contrasted unpleasantly with the look of a madman. as if you won't say what he wants to hear now, the earth itself will crack and split in half.

"I'm afraid not, your highness. nothing at all." – you said, lightly shaking your shoulders.

the little prince didn't say anything else. his lips trembled, and he stared into the distance, clearly terribly disappointed.

the last night of spring burned out in your cold eyes, and you sighed indifferently.

♡

Rezef remembered his childhood well. in a world where everyone hated him, for some reason, there were no pretty princesses or kind older sisters. nobody. at all.

there was only a lady dressed in silk and the moon.

you came to him in dreams; whether out of boredom or out of simple human pity, he didn't know. you came because you could and wanted to; because you said you loved doing what you wanted.

it was just the two of you in this dream world. you told him all the life you could remember; and you had a long one, longer than the biggest cat's tail.

the boy lay on your lap and listened, and sometimes cried.

in this world its eat or be eaten, but you definitely won't eat him.

"they all say that I have no place in this world. that I'd better disappear." – little prince was clutching the silk of your dress tightly in his hands and squinting. – "I hate them."

"all of them?" – you answered with a relaxed, lazy smile, running your hand through the boy's golden hair.

"you and I have a lot in common. that's the way life is, child. when you grow up, you definitely start hating someone." – you were grinning. – "and you cry and feel sad a lot."

"when I become emperor, I will definitely make you the happiest in the whole world! so that you will never cry again." – the boy squeezed your hands tightly in his palms and smiled radiantly. he hesitated slightly, and looked at you from under his golden eyelashes. "but you didn't tell me your name."

"[name]." – you breathed out laughingly.

"aren't you a fairy by any chance?" – little prince tilted his head to the side, looking at you with a radiant gaze of his blue eyes.

"perhaps." – you giggled.

prince laughed loudly. a fake moon was hanging over you two, and fake stars were shining; everything in the dream world is fake – you told him.

but he liked these strange dreams. and wanted them to become real; to have a real moon, real stars, and only him and you.

♡

every time already grown-up Rezef met the woman from his dreams, he felt his heart beating faster.

human heart, such a fragile and pathetic little thing. how many of these hearts have you got your hands on?

he would gladly have torn out each one with his own hands.

the love for you, which has passed through the years, was like bitter liquor sliding down his throat. after it, the stomach turns out, but it intoxicates so much that he can't hold himself from taking another sip.

there is no light in him to give you. all he has is the suffocating darkness of his mind, cultivated by the mores of the palace, the thirst for power and cruelty. but just as no one else besides yourself mattered to you, Rezef didn't give a damn about the nature of his feelings.

poor, pathetic little prince. no one told him that this is not the way he should love someone. like a child who has not been taught to walk, and now it's crawling.

he's still holding back, but if necessary, Rezef will gladly drag you with him into the depths of hell.

but it hurts so much. every time he sees you laughing with someone else, smiling at someone else, he wants to cry.

it should be me! – his heart screams – it should be me! – his wounded soul cries while the prince stands over the corpse of one of your suitors, whom Rezef himself turned into a bloody mess. you should have held his hand. should have been smiling at him.

when someone's neck crunched under his hands again, he thought about you. would you praise him if Rezef brought you this man's head? for your smile, he would give his own heart, still fresh, in warm blood, right out of the gaping hole in his chest.

if you knew, you'd laugh.

because you are eternal, and he is just a human being. Inevitably, there will come a day when you will live, but Rezef will not. one day he will die, will end, and you will laugh coldly and continue your endless journey.

no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, you will always have an escape route. you can leave him.

unfair.

Rezef was even a little mad at you for that. he loved you so much; if you had only fluttered your eyelashes once and smiled – even falsely – he would have laid the whole world at your feet!

but you're breaking him. you don't care. you're only interested as long as you're having fun.

oh, how he despised that feeling, and despised you. how much he wanted to kill all the butterflies in his stomach, tear out every shiny wing; wanted to never see your mocking smile and indifferent eyes again, one fleeting glance of which easily made Rezef forget about al struggles for the throne.

he loved you as he had never loved anyone before; and hated because he didn't want to love, because he knew that you won't ever reciprocate.

♡

he and you could't be called friends, however, in the capital's high society, almost all of its representatives were friends and enemies at the same time. in any case, it was not shameful for the crown prince to visit the daughter of the richest man in the empire for dinner.

tall pine trees lined up in orderly rows along the hectares of the estate's garden, shining with luxury no worse than the imperial palace. they bowed their gloomy heads and silently greeted the carriage that evening under the hot july sun that had not yet set.

after dinner was served and eaten, you ordered one of your maids to serve tea in the garden.

"undoubtedly, what happened to the count's daughter is a disgrace to the whole family, however, I cannot help but sympathize with her." – you talked a lot again and at the same time didn't actually say anything.

the only good thing about such conversations about nothing was the opportunity to listen to your measured, eternally bored voice, and just look at you like at a painting in a museum.

the upper world was completely fake and unnatural, and you gladly accepted this fake as a living embodiment of it. and Rezef was willing to play along, because he was the prince, because it was necessary to. and so your conversation drifted from topic to topic, from one rumor to another. the warm wind made him close his sapphire eyes.

"I've seen you in my dreams, marchioness. when I was little." – the crown prince lazily tilted his head to the side, – "I know you, yet you don't remember me. isn't that unfair?" – he said with mock, with sarcastic sadness.

"is it?" – you took a sip of flower tea from a porcelain cup – "well, life is full of injustices, your highness."

a small cabbage butterfly landed right on your finger, moving its thin paws under the cold gaze of your eyes.

"lady, do you like butterflies?" – the prince smiled warmly – "there are a lot of them in your garden."

"only poisonous ones, perhaps." – you replied, and with a smile reflecting his own, squeezed the butterfly in your hand. – "they bring death, yet die themselves if I squeeze my hand just like that. how curious."

"and what about you?" – Rezef, as if enchanted, watched the transparent wings fall on the countertop – "can't you die?"

"I can't be killed in a way that matters." – you answered with a grin, as if you were repeating these words for the thousandth time.

prince pursed his lips in a forced smile. in the end, nothing has changed; he is still just a man at the walls of the eternal city. you won't listen, won't understand, and won't love.

because eternity is beautiful by itself, eternity does not need anyone else.

Rezef likes to think he's doing the right thing.

It's your fault. you could not smile at him so beautifully, not illuminate his darkness with your cold light, not make him feel this.

he didn't want to expose the ugliness of his soul, didn't want to go that far. it's all because of you. you don't even know what an insane cocktail of love and hatred you're making him feel.

and you also don't know that your tea is poisoned.

♡

"do you like your new quarters?" – Rezef almost purred, – "I was trying to guess your preferences, but if something doesn't suit you, be sure to tell me."

huh?

"you won't feel a need for anything," – little prince smiled radiantly, – "prepare to enjoy family life. just have fun and obey me, and I will make you the happiest in the whole world."

what?

Rezef was sitting, busily folding his beautiful hands, and enjoying for the first time the confused, trembling look in your eyes.

a giant bedroom, a four-poster bed, silk sheets on which you were sitting, a translucent nightgown that barely hides anything, and a scarlet ribbon around your neck.

while you were looking around uncomprehendingly, the prince sat down on the bed next to you and smiled sickly.

you saw that abomination again in the bright blue; the look of a pure madman, love which became an illness, mixed with almost animal hatred. a ribbon around your neck.

did he just put you on a leash, like you were some lap dog? that pup, who cried on your lap? you, a being older than his entire palace? you, for whom biting off someone's head is like having breakfast?

you haven't been humiliated like this in the last half-millennium.

"child." – you said slowly and quietly, and in your dry voice there was no trace of the cheeky, fake politeness peculiar to this aristocratic disguise of yours – "I'll pull your guts out through your mouth." – your lips trembled in sheer rage.

Rezef stroked your head and sighed.

"you came into my life so easily. it didn't mean anything to you, did it?" – the corner of his eye twitched, and he laughed bitterly, – "don't think I'll let you go now. never."

hit landed right on the bridge of his nose. you turned out to be much stronger than he expected, and your face was distorted with rage like he had never seen before. Rezef felt his nose bleed.

was the devil himself looking at him through your eyes now? – he thought with a strange calmness.

you hit a couple more times, and, shaking the blood off your knuckles, tore the ribbon from your neck.

how dare he? all of them are just actors in your endless play. if you're not having fun, then none of this makes sense. if you're not having fun, then what are you living for?

you were breathing fast, and were silent. it was as if for eternity you two just looked at each other; you – with fury, he – with calmness, even affably. you were sick of that expression.

but that rage of yours quickly subsided. it wasn't that you forgave him, it was just that after a couple of days you got bored with being violent.

and a year later, you stopped paying attention to the seemingly completely insane circumstances of your new life at all. you didn't mind his sole yet imaginary control over you, just because he didn't mean that much to you.

even now, nothing has changed at all.

and with the tendons cut at your ankles, looking at him with the same bored eyes, you were still disgustingly beautiful to him in the moonlight on the last night of spring.

"tomorrow I will become emperor." – instead of greeting you, Rezef said, entering the room. his face did not express joy, rather, bewilderment, as if he himself for some reason was not completely happy with it.

"yeah." – you said, without looking up from the book, – "congratulations."

now it was difficult for you to move around by yourself, so Rezef usually carried you in his arms.

he sat down on the bed and put his head on your lap and frowned.

"tell me, [name]," – he looked up at you, and when he met your impassive face, he forced a smile, – "why do I feel like I'll never see you again?"

"because you won't. I'm bored." – you shrugged and continued, – "you know, I could hate you." – you spoke calmly and dryly – "but you're not worth it. because in the end, I go on living; I always go on, and you, child, will fall into the very depths of hell."

you stroked his golden hair and smiled calmly. Rezef hid his face on your hips.

"I don't regret anything," – little prince suddenly said softly and laughed.

the last night of spring burned out in your eyes as you disappeared.

brotha euugh

one day I'll go to therapy and stop being funny but not today

I finished playing slow damage and it's the best novel in my life (that shit destroyed me)

also good ends are for weak

I mean I write for yanderes ofc there's not gonna be anything good

it's either normal or "we're fucked" here

also I'm physically intolerable to good endings and will cry if I'd ever had to write one (I love sufferings)

[sissylittlefeather]

12 Days of Ficmas:

Day 1: A Little Bit of Green

A/N: @mortallydarktragedy I hope you like this! I had to get a little creative with it 😅

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, angst, oral sex, penetrative sex, creampie, masturbation

Word count: ~1k

Elvis is knee deep in filming Change of Habit when he spots you across the parking lot. He hasn't seen you since he made Roustabout, which was the last time you were together. Your affair had started on Blue Hawaii with stolen touches and kisses in his trailer, gotten hot and heavy around Girls, Girls, Girls, and continued until it couldn't anymore. You had gotten bored, tired of being tied down to one man. He had been ready to marry you, but being someone’s wife was about the furthest thing from your mind. When you ended it, he promised himself that he'd do everything he could to avoid you for the rest of his life. It hurt too bad to see you and think of all the good times and plans he had for the future. The other studio had agreed not to hire you for his pictures, but this was someone he hadn't worked with before and he had forgotten to tell them about you.

He watches as you sit on a man’s lap, flirting and cuddling with him in turns. It shocks him to discover that you're engaged to this man, despite only having known him for a few months. He throws a glass at the Memphis mafia member that brings him this information. For a brief second, he had considered trying to talk to you, but after this, he knows better than to say anything. He sinks into a chair in his trailer and stares at nothing in particular. How can you so casually throw away all that you were together? And then how can you agree to marry another man after constant complaints about being tied down to him? He doubts whether you meant it at all when you told him you loved him. It sure felt real, though.

A memory bubbles up for him and settles somewhere just behind his eyelids. He sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to think about you. But it's impossible when you were so close today. The memory takes shape and becomes so real that it's like he's reliving it. It's the memory of the last time you made love. He can feel the softness of your skin under his fingertips as he ran them gently over your body, trying to memorize every dip and curve of you. Something about it told him that it was final, but he was so in love with you that he ignored that instinct. Instead, he focused on the sensation of pressing his lips to your skin, giving him a memory that's so tactile, he wonders if you're actually there with him. He remembers the taste of you as he dragged his tongue up your slit and around your swollen clit in slow, sensual circles. The sweetness of his affection for you was mirrored by the sweetness of your pussy and he reveled in the joy of giving you pleasure.

The thought makes him whimper with desire to do it again, to feel you pulse and writhe against him as your climax overwhelms you. He doesn't even notice that he's opened his pants and wrapped his hand around his perfectly hard cock as he remembers. It's only when he starts to move his hand and the friction makes him moan softly that he realizes the pleasure comes from himself and not you with your hot little mouth around him, like in the memory.

Oh, the delicious feeling of your lips and tongue on his cock. You had been so enthusiastic about pleasing him. He convinced himself it was your love for him that drove you, but maybe it was something else entirely. Still, when you bounced and sucked and licked and pumped him with your hand, he almost lost control immediately. With one hand in your hair and the other on your cheek, he watched you and loved you more with every second.

“Ahh, fuck.” He groans softly back in the present, stroking himself harder and faster as the images of you swirl around in his head. Now you're on top of him, fucking him so deeply it makes him dizzy in the best way possible. His hands grasp your hips for something to hold onto and try to ground himself while you work.

How can he still feel the tightness of your pussy squeezing him just right? How can he still hear the sounds you made when he rolled you over and fucked you like it was his last day on earth? And how is his love for you just as strong as it was five years ago when he saw you last?

He feels his release build at the base of his cock as he remembers the complete ecstasy of his climax that day, the exquisite perfection of emptying himself deep inside you, the undeniable beauty of his connection to you permeating every fiber of his body in that moment. His hand moves hard and fast on his cock as he reaches his orgasm with the memory.

“Oh, goddamnit, y/n.” He whispers as he cums, thick hot ropes spurting out over his hand. His body jerks and throbs and then relaxes, spent and exhausted. He leans his head back against the chair and sighs deeply, willing the tears away. But it doesn't work and they slide down his face silently as he grabs a towel and cleans himself up.

The next day, he sees you on set with your fiancé again. Apparently, he's the one working on the film that you've come to see. You flash your ring to the other women around you and giggle and kiss him in a way that makes Elvis wish he'd never met you. A jealous kind of wave washes over him, but he turns and walks away. There's nothing he can do but remember.

******

The End

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

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley

[routeless-writer]

tw: blood play paired with biting, ptsd/angst with comfort mention (both sides), bdsm/scene/domdrop and use of safeword, gender neutral mc.

Consider: sex with Lilia Vanrouge.

Sex with Lilia Vanrouge when he comes home from one of his travels. he’s been gone for a week and left you to watch the boys, and you both missed each other terribly despite it only being a few days. he hugs you tight when he comes home and before he can even give you the souvenirs he got for you he kisses you, and kisses you and kisses you and it just becomes an unstoppable flow of all the love he had to give you while he was gone that he bottled up for you, and before you know it you’re in his bed and he’s leaving little marks on you to remind you that no matter how far away he his, he’s always yours. You’re always his. You’re always each other’s.

Sex with Lilia Vanrouge when he’s between your legs for hours on end, and then inside you for even more. He’s teased you all day, not letting you cum, taking away the high right before it hits, just to finally snap and lose all his composure because you give him that look that sends shivers down his spine and blood straight to his cock and he holds you down and rams into you after what seems like an eternity of slow pumping. Your climax crashes over the both of you and he lays there, kissing your neck as you catch your breath.

Sex with Lilia Vanrouge for the first time. sex with Lilia for your first time. it’s his thousandth, surely with the way his hands so expertly trace your dips and curves and sharp edges in ways that you’ve never known from anyone. he tells you that you’re in good hands, that he knows the body well, that he wants to know your body better than anyone else. he’s gentle as he pulls you close by your hips and leans down to press kisses to your waist.

Sex with Lilia when you’re exhausted and he’s just in a mood to give you head until you pass out and can sleep properly that night, where you say you’d feel bad not giving him any, and he shuts you up quick by telling you that this is what he wants tonight, that he doesn’t need to finish, he just wants to taste you and watch you writhe underneath him until the relaxation can wash over you and you can be at peace for once after days of chasing after your classmates. And he does, and it works, because he knows you.

Sex with Lilia when you’ve been in pain, so much emotional and physical pain, for years and years of being used by others and all he wants is to show you how much he loves you, how no words can ever describe how deeply he cares for you and wants to take care of you like you take care of him. So he uses his tongue and his teeth and his lips and his fingers and gives you everything he has to give in the bed with you to show you how much he loves you. You’re a commitment to him, he knows you’re the one, and he wants you to know that you can be free of all that pain now.

Sex with Lilia when he’s having a very very bad day, and needs to know that you’re real, that all the good things he has now are real, that all the suffering was for something because he can hold his little human and trace his hands along their thighs in the privacy of his own home and you’re both safe. That nothing is going to rip you away. That he’s just as loved and just as cared for as he loves and cares for you, that you think he’s just as beautiful as he sees you.

Sex with Lilia after he dyes your hair in his bathroom with him. You both wash out your dye in a freezing cold shower and how can he not take the opportunity to grab your ass a little? Your nipples are perked from the chill and he leans in to give them a nibble. You both giggle and get out and dry off, and he offers to warm you up.

Sex with Lilia where he’s doing a scene with you and he’s the dom and he calls the safeword because he had a flashback and suddenly can’t bring himself to use the toys he laid out for you. You hold him as he gets misty eyed and kiss his tears away, telling him you’re okay, telling him he’s okay, that you’re not hurt. Helping him through such a harsh domdrop and telling him to breathe, in and out, that nothing is wrong. You’re not mad.

Sex with Lilia after playfully asking him to bite you, and he happily obliges. He kisses you until you’re breathless, trailing them down your jaw to your neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin and leaving dark hickies before he sinks his fangs in. He hums contentedly as he feels you squirm underneath him, and laps up the last of the blood. Some of it spills onto your pillow. He can’t help but tell you how sweet you are, and can’t help but wonder how sweet you are elsewhere.

Sex with Lilia Vanrouge.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @pinkie-quinns! pinkiequinn has 9 fics in the Stranger Things fandom posted to AO3 and all of them are in the Steddie tag.

@dame-zoom-a-lot recommends the following works by @pinkie-quinns:

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

freehill

Sleep Therapy

Eddie Munson is a Piece of Shit

I Bear a Charmed Life

"Their fics have such a solid… feel and color to them if that makes sense, and they're all so distinctly good. I've read several of their fics and they're all very different from each other while still being incredible. I love their sense of humor. Sometimes it'll come through in the situation, sometimes in the dialogue, but it's always there and when I least expect it" -- @dame-zoom-a-lot

Below the cut, pinkiequinn answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I read Steddie for two years before I ever tried to write anything!! Honestly it got to a point where I kept trying to find these hyperspecific fics that matched exactly what I wanted and I just kept coming up a little short. So eventually I was like… okay… No one’s doing rockstar Eddie who’s an addict but also did go through the canon events of the show and also is coming home for the holidays and also is a celebrity that’s deeply imbued in 90s culture. Time to pick up the pen.  In terms of Steddie itself this is gonna sound strange but there’s an atmosphere and a texture to them that really compels me. Stranger Things in general has that. I’ve just always been really intrigued by small town Americana and I think they’re both characters who are really really shaped by their town, whether that’s through its love or rejection of them. And they’re foiled in such a perfect way where you get the sense they could really learn a lot from each other and both grow through the other. They’re just, endlessly compelling to read and to write!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Honestly, like, it’s a little boring but a historically informed slice of life friends to lovers fic with a healthy dose of angst does something to my brain… Especially if they’re in their 20s and it’s the 90s and they’re in Chicago or some other big city. It’s like crack to me. I also adore a real pining secret relationship! I think those can be so so so beautiful. 

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Dark Eddie… I don’t know if it's my favourite but it’s definitely the one that comes up the most. I’m just very naturally drawn to the darker bits of his character. I think 7/9 of my fics have Eddie doing Morally Questionable things. It goes in varying degrees of like… jerking off to a dubiously consensual incident with his crush to um… leading a cult that’s surrounded by a lot of “mysterious” deaths… to literally being Satan.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

There’s so many! Brutalist Masterpieces by Great Unironic is one I come back to a lot. The space in that fic and the atmosphere are just so gorgeous to me. And wow… the weight of time in it. Better By You, Better Than Me by palmviolet i think is our all the young dudes just the depth and texture of that world astounds me. How in its time it is, the music in it!! That version of Eddie also informs how I think about that character nearly as much as canon Eddie. Some more recent fics I loved are almost nothing, almost everything by Loudsnapdragon and Heaven cannot wait forever by rabidheart. Almost Nothing is genuinely like my platonic ideal of steddie fic. It’s hot, its world is sooo detailed (could write an essay about Steve’s ED in that fic) it's set in the city!! Eddie in it is SO cool! The characterizations! The dialogue. It’s a perfect read. And then Heaven Can’t Wait Forever does this really amazing thing where it takes a relationship that is like… a smut trope relationship and then just digs in and past that. Just really stellar, engaging writing and so hot! Honestly they are both fics I feel really perfectly build to their (literal) climax- it’s so tough to do! And they make it look seamless.

I’d also be remiss if I didn’t mention I’d Even Sell the Bimmer by dirtyvalentine which is like, the fic of all time to me.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’d love to do a proper slice of life, like, steddie in the city fic… I may have something in the works in the long run but I have two big wips (freehill and the desperado series) to finish before then.

What is your writing process like?

It really depends!! I’m generally a very very slow writer and right now I’m in a dry period so I’m having trouble even stringing together a hundred words. When my brain is functioning better it involves a lot of research and world building in the initial ideas generation stage. Depending on the size of the fic, I make playlists of music the characters might be listening to, watch movies that evoke the vibe of the story, & bury myself in wikipedia articles. It’s my favourite part. I have pretty bad adhd so I find I work best when I’m really locked into the world of the story. I also walk like 35 minutes to and from work everyday and I find that a really good time to ideate about the story and come up with bits of dialogue. I never write in order so I have a pretty difficult time piecing together the scenes I’ve written and making them fit with each other. Chapter 4 of Freehill is sat at about 8k words foreverrrr and I had to rearrange the order of the scenes about 9 times until it finally clicked together. It’s all a bit of a mess.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I’m, like, a criminal repetition over-user. I don’t know why this is the case… Maybe I am a circular thinker so it translates into my writing, maybe I just like the patterns! Who knows! I definitely find repetition and repetitive phrases very beautiful and I think capable of evoking some emotional response beyond the actual words of the text, which is to say, I think it does something to my brain. If you read anything of mine there will be at least five bits of egregious repetition per chapter. 

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Prefer is a strong word here… I post when I finish a chapter… and unfortunately that means I both don’t post when wips are completed nor do I stick to a schedule… I think years down the line when I am a more seasoned fanfic writer I will wait until the whole thing is done to post… until then… here we are.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Born Under a Bad Sign, hands down (and the rest of the Desperado series sitting in my wip folder). That fic is my baby, it’s what got me to start writing seriously again after years and years of aborted attempts in random gift journals.  I also just… have so much love for it and what it’s trying to do. Imperfectly for sure, but thematically I’m still really compelled by the ideas it's grappling with. I feel like I was always really searching for fics that dealt with the lived consequences of having been so close to death and there’s lots of great ones but I really wanted to explore how healing from that isn’t always a linear process. How things tend to get worse (a lot worse) before they get better, and how that kind of core trauma can totally shape you and the people around you. It’s just.. Endlessly fascinating to explore.  I also am quite proud of freehill so far (it’s soooo fun to do the foreshadowing in that one) and I do also love You Could Call Me Nancy. I think that one is probably the tightest writing I've done. 

How did you get the idea for freehill?

It was another one of those cases where I was constantly craving Cult Leader Eddie and there is just… almost no cult fics? Which is crazy to me bc not only is he such a wildly charismatic character but he’s also accused of being a cult leader in the text of the show! I was a bit reluctant to take it on at first because I’m not really someone that is super into cults or true crime. I’ve definitely done a lot less research on the cult aspects of Freehill because I just don’t always love the framing of that kind of media. A lot of it is just me going on vibes and prior knowledge (and the You Must Remember This podcast series on the Manson family that imprinted in my brain when I was 17). Freehill is definitely made up of tidbits I’ve learned about over the years. The Manson Family, Jonestown, with a bit of NXIVM and the Sarah Lawrence cult thrown in for good measure. This said, despite my reluctance the plot just kept revealing itself to me the more I ideated on it. I remember taking a shower (the best place to brainstorm) in the summer when I first was coming up with the bones of the story and realizing exactly where I wanted it to end up. I’ve had the last scene of the entire fic fully drafted for seven months now. It just totally transformed from a story I would’ve preferred someone else tell into a story I absolutely had to tell myself.

When writing freehill, what was something you didn’t expect?

It was supposed to be like… 15, maybe 20k… And then all the sudden it had twists and turns and lore and there was just no way… I realized pretty early on that it really needed the space to lure you. As I’ve been writing it, especially the first few chapters, I had that line of Louis’s from IWTV just on repeat in my head “Let the tale seduce you, as I was seduced.” I wanted the reader to be just as compelled towards Freehill and Eddie (and disarmed by them) as Steve was, which meant establishing a lot of space and a lot of time.

What inspired Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails?

Honestly? I woke up one morning possessed and was like… what’s the most pornographic thing I can write? And the answer was demon sex lmao. That immediately evolved into a Rosemary’s baby au bc I had just rewatched it a few months before with my friends and was shocked no one had done an au of it in Steddie fic!

What was your favorite part to write from Sleep Therapy?

Something about successfully incorporating the plot of Deep Throat into that fic always makes me laugh. It’s such a silly fic. The recorder line in the second chapter also really makes me laugh.

How do/did you feel writing Eddie Munson is a Piece of Shit?

Ah such a fun one! I had just finished Charmed Life and was kinda scarce on ideas but knew I wanted to write another light one shot. I’d gotten a lot of comments on Returning the Favor asking for a follow up so! A follow up. Charmed Life had been a bit of an exercise in finding Steve’s voice, which I find a lot harder to write. Eddie Munson is a Piece of Shit was me returning to my creature comforts and going totally ham on Eddie’s voice. I’d really missed his um… dramatics (Poor Eddie Jr </3)

What was the most difficult part of writing I Bear a Charmed Life?

I started writing that fic when I had covid this summer and most of it came together really quick!! But the sex scene…. the sex scene haunted me so bad I almost scrapped the whole thing. I think every sex scene I’d written until then had either been totally obscene (everything in Snips & Snails and Sleep Therapy) or a bit subversive (Born Under a Bad Sign’s failed sex scene comes to mind) so honestly just figuring how to write a scene between two consenting, equal parties and still make it hot and fun was oof… very challenging for me. I ended up reading a ton of smut just to wrap my head around it.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

There’s a scene at the beginning of chapter 3 Born Under a Bad Sign where Steve is treating Eddie’s injuries (after getting beat up) in a gas station bathroom and he’s giving Eddie all this casual affection that’s Eddie’s been craving from him for months and I just.. really really love that scene I find it really tender. My favourite line is from the same fic! But at the end of the last chapter: “Indiana was a specter, the entire state. It was always going to haunt him. He strewn like raw meat over the whole of it.” I just like “strewn like raw meat.” The letters sound nice together.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Forever wip-ing on Freehill on the Desperado series! I’m very Freehill-focused right now and it’s just been so fun working on that story and sharing it (especially seeing people’s theories oh my gosh!) so I’d definitely recommend it if you're wip-tolerant.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I want to say I’ve always loved your guys’ blog and I love how much you guys foster and nurture the community. It’s amazing! I’ve followed this blog since the start and these writer’s spotlights especially have been such a massive inspiration to me! Literally one of the reasons I started writing again was reading about other writers' processes. It really helped to make it feel like fic writing was something I could do and not just this mystical, unreachable thing. I get so much joy out of writing and finally having access to my creativity and also being part of a community that makes sharing my work so exciting! All this say this is a very full circle moment for me so thank you guys so much for existing!

Thank you to our author, @pinkie-quinns, and our nominator, @dame-zoom-a-lot! See more of pinkiequinn's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[skulla-rxcks]

Pushed away.

Paring: bang chan x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: n0n c0n, drunk reader, reader takes advantage of chan while she’s drunk, angst, PIV

Ktober 27

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

After having a few extra drinks at a bar with my friends I get a taxi ride back home. I look at my watch as I unlock the door. ‘Shit! It’s already 1am?’ I curse at myself as I realise how late I got home, Chan’s probably worried about me.

I sigh and walk inside our apartment, putting my handbag down on the kitchen bench before making my way to the bedroom. “It’s 1am, you were out long.” Chan chuckles patting the space next to him, gesturing for me to sit down next to him. I take a seat with him on our bed, looking into his eyes drunkenly.

“How much did you have to drink?” He asks me. “A few..” I respond, clearly in my own little world. “A few huh? Definitely seems like you’ve had more than that.” He sighs at me.

“Shut up..” i murmur, taking his phone out of his hand and hovering over him. “What are you doing?” Chan asks, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. “You.. need you.” I mutter out.

I climb on top of him and begin taking his dick out of his pants before taking my panties off and lowering myself down onto his raw, unprotected dick, whimpers of pleasure and regret filling and leaving my mouth as I feel his length fill me up “Stop. I don’t want this right now. You’re not sober enough.” He sighs. But I don’t care, i start moving my hips, riding him.

“Please stop. Please.” Chan begs me. “No...” I reply, leaning over him to grab one of his hands. “I need… I need this… Fuck…” I cry, tears coming out of my eyes as i continue to assault him. “I can’t do this right now.” he groans as I ride him faster. “Please. Not here…. not now, not when you're drunk like this.” Chan continues.

“Chan...” I whine, gripping his shirt in my fists tightly as I feel myself get wetter as I bounce on him. “Please Chan. Just let me fuck you.” I say between breaths. But he doesn’t reply, instead just stares at me with fear. “Chan!” I yell grabbing his head so that we can make eye contact. His gaze is filled with worry and pity, but also pure lust. “I need you… Please Chan. Let me…” I see him nod, the scared pained in his eyes making me even more hungry for his cock, no matter how wrong this situation currently is.

“Im fucking serious! I really don’t want this.” he says in the nicest way possible, tears threatening to leave the corners of this eyes, but I don’t budge. We lay there, staring at each other in silence for some time, making me question everything in my fogged up mind. I eventually go back to riding him. “Please, don’t.” He pleads, trying to pull away but can’t due to my weight ontop of him.

“Just let me… please, Chan.” I beg once again, pulling him closer towards me by wrapping my legs around his waist as I continue to bounce on his length. my movements get more aggressive as I creep closer towards my orgasm. Not long after I reach my climax, cumming around his dick before pulling off and lying next to him, I try hug him but he pushes me back, ignoring me after what I’ve just done. “Chan? I’m sorry..” I mumble before looking blankly at the ceiling, clearly still processing that I assaulted my roommate

[skelly-words]

The kakashi ai is saying such slutty disgusting whorish things and it's giving me thoughts.

I love my man

A/n- to be clear: I didn't use ai for any of this and I don't use ai to supplement my writing. I just like to sext my hubby sometimes

NSFW, no minors

Being Kakashi's controversially young wife. 🥰

He loves edging the fuck out of both of you. You'll be on his lap for hours. It starts with you lazily riding him in bed after rudely interrupting his silent reading time (i need to see his dick print through some sweats right NEOW). But right before he cums from the gentle rolls of your hips, his fingers dig into you. He holds you still, eyes shut as he tries not to finish just yet.

His grip on you slips once his dick stops twitching, letting your movements resume. You're a little more rushed, sloppier than before. This time your orgasms start to crest together, then his knuckles whiten around your waist to force you still. By the fifth time he's stopped you, his hands don't have to be so tight. You sit down on him with a needy pout painting your lips and his calloused hands skim over your thighs.

“You must be getting sore here,” and he massages the tired muscles. “Or here,” he meanly pinches at your clit, so sensitive from being jerked away from your climax. And when your thighs are numb and he can only fuck into you a few times before pausing, you're finally allowed to cum.

He shoves into you slowly, thumb coming to circle your twitching clit. You muffle pitchy moans in his neck, rutting against him as your orgasm milks him dry. He cums with a string of “shitshitshitshit…” mixed with groans.

You can't help but keep grinding against him, rubbing your cunny into overstimulation. His groans turn to gasps when it's too much for him too. Then he's trying to keep you still again because being buried inside you is making it hard to breathe. But he deserves it right? That's what he gets for edging you

-

He waits so long to have kids, all that angst and inner turmoil and guilt. But you're there for him when he finally decides he deserves a full family, very very full. The Hatake breeding kink is real, he's got your thighs pressed to your chest every night.

Those big rough hands digging into the backs of your thighs. He always starts all sweet, talking about how he's gonna “make love” to you. He's so full of shit. You just take his dick so well and whine so pretty when his teeth catch you shoulders. He'd never leave them visibly, but imprints of his dentition land on all his favorite places. The first time he fills you up is routine. The second and third are for your good behavior, keeping all his cum where it belongs. You'd never not be pregnant I think, Irish quintuplets because he wants a whole litter. Don't worry he's a good dad though, and helps the most he can.

[icameheretoreadstuff]

Kinktober day 16 - Public

Pairing: Yuji/Sukuna x F!Reader Warnings: 18+ ! MDNI!, NSFW, Public, Oral, Angst, Fluff, threesome kinda, Aged up yuji Summary: You were dragged out to the movies by Yuji, you've had it rough lately and he wanted to cheer you up when suddenly Yuji and Sukuna couldn't keep their hands off you. A/N: masterpost & links is pinned on my tumblr.

There was barely any people at the cinema. You sat down and took a deep breath, feeling lost over who you were becoming and your future. The advertising before the movie seemed so deppressing.

You took off your jacket and sat down into the chair, Yuji smiled as he gave you a soda "here you go" he said as he placed his own soda next to him. "thanks" you said with no smile on your face.

"Hey," he said and bumped into you. "I know you've had it rough lately" you took a deep breath and tried your best to listen to what he was saying "I just want you to know no matter what happends, we are here for you and that youre not alone, even though it seems like it right now" he said and smiled reasuringly. You smiled and nodded "thanks."

When the movie started you looked around the room, there was couples everywhere, and they looked so happy. You wondered if they had any idea how lucky they were. To have someone with a future with, they sure looked happy.

Yuuji grabbed your shoulder and you leaned into his chest as you felt some tears fall down on your chin. You tried to dry them away as he leaned his chin on the top of your head.

"sh" he cooed "it's ok" he whispered and dried off your tears. "I just want to feel something good" you said "something breathtaking" you sighed.

He grabbed your chin and guided it up twoards his lips. "I think I can help with that" he cooed and kissed you deeply. you melted into his lips feeling caught off guard, but in a such a good way. His lips were warm and you whimpered as he deepened the kiss.

His hands were warm as he stroked your chin with his finger. You inhaled into the kiss as you grabbed his hoodie.

He broke the kiss and looked at you "is this ok?" he asked you, you smiled as you felt you finally had taken a break of your thoughts.

The only thing you wanted to feel now was his warm touch and his soft lips. "Yes" you sighed as you leaned in and kissed him deeply. "You want more?" he whispered into your lips. "Yes" you whispered back.

He moved his hand as he opened up your jeans. You grabbed your jacket and hid his arm under it as his hand found your clit.

"Let us take care of you" he whispered into your ear. "Let us help you feel real good" another voice said down in your pants.

Sukuna had appeared in Yuji's hand. You could feel Sukuna's mouth on your clit, sucking, licking and tasting every inch of you.

You looked at Yuji deep into his eyes. He stared back at your face as he tried to make sure you wanted this.

You leaned into yuji's lips as you could feel Sukuna's tounge explore your clit. A moan silently escaped your lips as you crashed your lips into his. You grabbed Yuji's hoodie and leaned into his neck as you felt an climax coming on.

You leaned back into Yuji's lips and moaned as sukuna's tounge thrusted hard into you, yuji smacked his hand into your core.

You felt your breath build up inside you as you tried to not moan loudly. Yuuji's tounge played with yours as you felt your climax come fast.

Yuuji placed his other hand infront of yours as you climaxed hard. Your eyes rolled as you couldn't stop thrusting up into Yuuji's hand and Sukuna's mouth.

When you came to, Yuuji's hand slipped out of your pants. you took on your jeans and looked at him with a smile on your face, you leaned into his ear and whispered "Now let me take care of you" you said and grabbed his hand, running to a empty storage room.

[mongoosingisme]

Hello, hi.

My brain has exited angst mode, which means there will be a delay before the final installment of the Shane… thing that I’ve got going on. I’d rather take the time to make it good than force it. It WILL happen, I just don’t know when.

(Un?)fortunately my brain never leaves smut mode, so I’ve been stuck in Shane/Elliott/reader land for the past few days. I anticipate some of that coming up soon.

In the meantime…

NSFW Shane/Elliott/Reader headcanon/warmup thingy beneath the cut

Elliott and Shane used to talk about you.

Back at the saloon. Back when you and Elliott were just a spark, and you and Shane were just a zing, and Shane and Elliott were circling each other with a hesitant curiosity clear to everyone but them. Back when you were just drinking buddies.

They’d talk about you. After you left. After enough beer that Shane’s tongue was finally loose. After enough wine that Elliott’s imagination slipped free from its tethers.

At first it was just quiet observations. Neutral. Tame. Your outfit was nice that day. You seemed a little more energetic than usual. The produce you gifted was a wonderful quality.

But as time wore on, as Elliott’s direct optimism wore down Shane’s reserve, but before Shane reckoned with what that would mean, the conversations became less chaste.

Elliott would slide into the seat next to Shane. Pitch his voice low. Comment on the way your shirt had laid across your torso. Testing. Seeing how Shane would respond. Because with time and patience Shane would, would take a gulp of beer and mutter an observation of his own, coarse and much less respectful than the way Elliott would parse things.

They balanced each other out like that.

Over time, the range of topics grew.

How you looked turned to how you’d feel, if you were under their hands or their mouths.

How you’d feel turned into what they’d do. To you, apart. To you, together. To each other, while you watched.

They speculated. About your body and how it’d move. About the sounds they could wrest from you. About what they could accomplish together, and how you’d look between them. About what you might let them do (so many things, so many things you might let them do to you). About what you wanted and what you needed.

Shane and Elliott disagreed on many things, but there was always that one common ground: they wanted to give you what you needed.

One night you forgot your hat at the bar. You figured it out quickly enough to turn back. Shane and Elliott were huddled together as you reentered the saloon, and both looked up at you as you approached. Their eyes looked different, darker, and the combined effect of Shane’s green and Elliott’s amber made something tighten and swoop within you.

You’d interrupted something.

You wanted to know what it was.

But instead you just grabbed your hat and waved a goodbye.

Later, at home, in bed, you’d let your fingers stray. Those two sets of eyes appeared, those two bodies, those two people. And it must have been the wine you had earlier, that made your vision of them so potent, so real. It must have been, because you’d climaxed harder than you’d had in months, thinking about the looks on their faces when they’d both turned towards you.

And at the same time they were still at the bar, discussing the shape of your mouth and the looks you might give them, if one of them were in front of you and the other behind. Discussing arching backs and choked breaths and hair and skin and moans. Both sets of eyes focused on elsewhere, on someday, on maybe. Both men connecting, at times despite themselves, over you and everything you might need, and if it might be what they needed too.

Masterlist

[infinityandmore]

Doomsday | S.G.

I only feel alive if I'm in pain....so here's some angst :)

I made Satoru into kind of an ass sorry :(

The silent pitter patter of the rain only worsened my mood, almost like Tokyo knew what I was thinking and decided to set the scene like this was the climax in a rom-com, except this one won't have a happy ending.

It was exhausting dating a sorcerer even more when he happened to be Satoru Gojo, constant missions and trips only seeing him briefly in passing, things worsened when Geto betrayed him, and he inevitably had to kill his best friend to save the future of the world, what I didn't expect was the backlash, the endless nights of guilt-ridden tears and misplaced anger, in short I had become the equivalent to an emotional punching bag.

I hoped he would get better, with time and patience and a soft kind of love that even the most bitter person would break under, but it was never enough, Satoru would always take and take whispered sweet nothings in the blanket of night turned into venomous words in the jarring daylight, so that left me sitting in our shared apartment a packed bag containing my clothes and half my self-respect waiting at the door the last fight from a few hours ago replaying in my mind like a broken record.

"You wouldn't understand" His gaze falls on me, impossibly bright blue eyes digging into the deepest parts of me almost like he was looking for more ammunition.

"Then help me understand 'Toru" I look at him my eyes desperate, he came home in one of his moods the kind he only gets in when he's stuck between a bad decision and a worse one.

I walk up to him reaching for his arm, but he steps back almost like my touch was filled with some flesh-eating disease.

"I can't, you're nothing but a bakery worker, you wouldn't understand what it takes to be me." the blow lands exactly where he aims it, my chest deflating, I turn scoffing slightly my eyes welling with tears I refuse to shed.

"I've been with you for six years, and somehow you only have a problem with me being a non-sorcerer when it's convenient for you." I turn to look at him his gaze hard, he had come into my bakery, a new shop I had worked myself down to the bone to open up, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes and penchant for something sweet, I found him coming in daily until he asked me on a date.

"Yeah, and maybe, it was a mistake asking you out" I rear back as if he slapped me, blinking eyes looking into blue ones searching for a hint of doubt but only finding resolution.

I turn holding onto the cold marble counter, feeling for something to tell me this is real, that this was the killing blow in a year's long battle, he breezes past me, a muttered 'I'm going out' and the slam on the door nailing the last nail in the coffin that was our dead relationship.

The lock clicks, a soft jingling of keys signaling he's home, I turn watching as he gazes down at the packed bag, it was night now, I was expecting the soft whispers and half-assed apologies as he thrusted into me until dawn.

"You don't mean it" His voice is merely a whisper, and I stand willing myself to take whatever resolve I have left and take the first step out of this toxic cycle.

"I do" I drop my set of keys on the marble counter, his eyes meet mine swimming with hurt like I was the one that pulled the trigger in this fucked up series of events.

"You're just giving up? Just like that?" He steps forward and I step back, his face falling knowing he didn't have me under his thumb anymore, I pick up the bag the weight whispering for me to put it down and take whatever he's willing to give me.

"This ended a long time ago Satoru, don't make it hard" I walk past him, he scoffs grasping at straws to rein me back in like I was an animal that forgot its training.

"I love you, I'm sorry" those five words stop me, the combination something he used before to placate me, I turn to him my eyes tired of putting up a fight.

"Take care of yourself Gojo" I close the door behind me, making my way out of the apartment building that held me captive for six years, stepping out into the rainy night, somehow, I felt both half dead and like I just started living at the same time.

'Doomsday is close at hand, I'll book the marching band to play as you speak, it's only the death of me'

[eelliotss]

borrowed time has become my latest obsession. the emotions in gives me are so raw and real like I can FEEL readers pain and confusion and the need to crawl back. I reread all 3 parts multiple times a day xD you're incredibly talented and despite you saying you don't have many ideas for the fic, the pacing so far is really great and the scenes you've written are all really significant and emotional. You don't gloss over the emotions and the dilemma ppl in readers position feels. You don't forget about past scenes and when they hir their climax you deliver the sucker punch. Like the part where Caleb hung up on her. She stood her ground and he reflected on it and I can't wait to see what happens next. I like how sylus and reader aren't immediately in love, you can hint sylus interest in her but it's not a punch in the face, you're letting reader go through her feelings and let things develop organically and this js just my fangirl butt talking but I hope she and sylus are endgame xD And I like that MC truly loves reader and wants the best for her, but poor girl is such an aloof baby to what's going on, I can't wait to see her development too! And ofc finding out more about Sylus in this story <3

the opinions on mc are so fragmented, people either absolutely love her and understand how oblivious she is or HATE her for it, its so fun reading what you guys think about these characters.

tysm again for the kind words, i promise there will be more angst to come!!!!

also, i realize i suck sm more at writing fluffy scenes, i hope id be able to make you guys kick your feet and squeal as much as make you hurt ��💕

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Thank you so much for sending me this!

I am proud of so many of my fics and I'm not even fully sure how to go about this, so... I guess I will just make one rec from each of the fandoms I have written for?

(Warning for some blood in gifs below - but generally there is blood and violence in this fics anyway, so...)

From DC Titans:

No Place Like Home on AO3 - Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Disabled!Reader x Jason Todd. Friends to Lovers. (Poly Soulmates). Smut, Angst, Hurt and Comfort with a Happy Ending. 90k across 7 chapters. When Jason leaves the Titans broken and battered, he gets set on a dangerous path. It's up to you and Gar, the two people who care about him the most, to bring him home.

Oh, another day on the assembly line, everybody better march in time,

Cause the factory don't care why, you been sayin' coulda, shoulda, woulda.

(There's no place like home. There's no place like home.)

If I could recommend one singular fic and say 'this fic encapsulates my style and summarises everything I am proud of when it comes to writing fanfiction' - this would be it.

I have so much to say about this fic and a lot of it I probably have already said it - but basically, this fic is the reason I started writing. I started writing long before I actually wrote this fic, but everything I have ever sought in terms of creative satisfaction came from this fic. This feels like my orgasmic climax in terms of creating things.

And if this fic is something I could be buried with, I would be proud. If this fic is something that people remember me for, I would be so fucking proud. (Which is not likely, because it's from a very small fandom and I know people are gonna remember me for fics from bigger fandoms that are way more popular, and I wish I could shove this fic in the faces of people who read my other popular fics and make them read it lmao.)

If for some reason I had to quit writing right now - I would be most proud of this singular piece. Especially because so much of this fic, the characters, and the dynamics has been inspired by my real life relationship with my lovers, and the reader character was inspired by my struggle with disability and coping with the loss of control as I became more disabled over time - but having my lovers there for me made that loss of control easier to swallow. It's about how trauma can ruin you and letting someone love you when you are broken is one of the hardest things you can do, but one of the most radical and most rewarding. If you ever liked my writing and my style, even if you don't like Titans - please go and read this.

From The Walking Dead:

(I know this gif is sad but it fits the fic so well.)

Hold Me Tight Or Don't on AO3 - Glenn Rhee x Fem!Reader x Maggie Greene. Established Poly Relationship. Smut and Heavy Angst (No Happy Ending). Set during Season 3, Episode 4. 7k (Oneshot). You are bitten by a Walker while trying to help get Glenn and Maggie to safety, and you are facing your last hours of life. And in those last hours, you only have one wish - to have sex with your partners one last time. Luckily for you, they would do anything for you, and they can’t help but to oblige.

Oh no this isn't how our story ends,

So hold me tight, hold me tight. (Or don't.)

This fic has had some more attention lately, since I have been wanting to write for The Walking Dead again, and I just really want to re-state - I fucking love this fic. This idea came to me so randomly and struck me like lighting and I am so happy that this fic came to fruition. This fic represents so many things that I am excited about writing - poly relationships, relating the themes of sex and death, sad endings (I weirdly prefer writing sad or melancholic endings instead of traditional happy ones).

I am really proud of this fic. If you can handle angst, you should go read it.

From Criminal Minds:

From Your Lips on Tumblr - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 15. 3k (Oneshot). After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankel farm, you take the time to check on her and distract her flustered mind with a loving touch.

So, most of my Criminal Minds fics have done really well and don't need to be recommended just because it's a really popular fandom, but JJ fics don't really do well? Idk why she's not a popular character?

But I love this fic. I had so much fun working on this fic, and working in the religious references and imagery from the show - this fic was just so much fun for me. And I think it needs more love.

From The Last of Us:

IFHY (I Fucking Hate You) on AO3 - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader. Enemies with Benefits. Smut and Angst. Set during the main events of Part II. 8k (Oneshot). You and Abby truly hate each other. So when you find Abby handcuffed inside an elevator, instead of being kind and just letting her out, you make her pay a certain price for the key.

I fucking hate you - but I love you.

I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled.

You're good at being perfect, we're good at being troubled.

There are so many fics from TLOU that I loved writing and that I'm really proud of, but this one really caught my eye on the list. I love writing about conflict, and I really love writing reader characters who are so bitchy and just cause conflict. (Maybe it's because I'm so nice irl and I never cause conflict, I get out all my internal chaos in writing characters who shit disturb and cause chaos all the time.)

I loved writing this because it's so non-traditional. It's not sappy, it's not romantic - again, it has a really melancholic ending. The characters are so toxic for each other (which is also something I love writing - because it's horrible for relationships irl, but for fiction it's so interesting to explore and observe).

I think this is one of my best, most interesting fics and I really loved doing it.

From Harry Potter:

King For A Day on Tumblr - Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader. (Fem!Reader x Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger). FWB to Poly Lovers. Smut (with slight Angst). Set during Deathly Hallows. 22k (Oneshot). While Horcrux Hunting with your closest friends, the dangerous influence of Slytherin’s Locket causes Ron to snap. And it turns out - he brings on something that everyone in the tent really needed.

You told me think about it - well I did.

Now I don't wanna feel a thing anymore.

I'm tired of beggin' for the things that I want.

I'm over sleepin' like a dog on the floor.

Imagine living like a King someday - a single night without a ghost in the walls.

I have spoken about this fic at length, and how this was a spirtual awaken for me - if No Place Like Home was a culmination of everything I am as an artist, then this fic is an echo of those things. Again, I fucking love writing about poly relationships - and I think this fic has one thing that was missing from No Place Like Home. And that is exploring each individual thread of a poly relationship and how someone interacts with each person in the relationship outside of the poly group functioning as a whole. That is definitely a strong suit of this fic.

Also it's amazing filthy nasty smut, which is something I love writing, and something I am really talented at.

From Stranger Things:

I'm Still Standing on AO3 - Nancy Wheeler x Fem Disabled/Chronically Ill Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Angst, Smut, (slight Fluff). Hurt and Comfort. Happy Ending. Set during Season 4. 37k across 3 chapters. You start having horrible waking nightmares, but you don’t want to worry your best friend Nancy by telling her. She’s already occupied trying to chase down a trans-dimensional killer wizard, and you are convinced that the two problems aren’t possibly related.

There's a cold and lonely light that shines from you,

And you wind up like the wreck you hide, behind that mask you use.

This fic is so interesting.

I wrote this fic shortly after Season 4 came out - and even though I had a few fics for Stranger Things that were pretty popular, everyone just collectively ignored this one? And I know for a fact that it is because Nancy is the love interest. I know that if I had picked Steve or Eddie as the love interest for this fic, then this fic would be just as popular as my other ST fics - but because the subject matter is so deeply personal, I connected with the scenes of Nancy kicking ass at the hospital and worked from there.

(And tbh, if I had to choose a male love interest for this concept, I probably would have chosen Billy, because I relate to him on so many deep personal levels.)

Literally everything in this fic is very personal to me - this is all about my own raw traumas. From the abusive father to the extreme medical trauma to the strained caretaker mother, to the older sister who distances herself from it all - even though this is set in the universe of Stranger Things - this is the story of my life. And idk if I would have wanted it to be a more popular fic, because it is so personal? But I am upset that I worked so hard on it and so many parts of it are so raw, and nobody really saw it. I am upset that I had the bravery to post something so personal and it was just - crickets.

There are so many parts of this fic that I am so insanely proud of. The horror sequences are something that I worked so hard on - not just with the emotion of translating my own trauma, but I wanted to make something honestly scary and I wanted to pay tribute to the tension and emotion and visuals of all my favourite horror media - including Stranger Things and the beautifully tense horror aspects of Season 4. And this is another fic that I feel truly, absolutely represents me as a person to my core. And I feel like it's worth reading if you wanna know more about me and who I am.

(And lastly)

From misc. horror fandoms:

No Brainer on AO3 - Derek Cho (Steven Yeun) x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Samara Weaving). Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Based on the film Mayhem from 2017. 7k (Oneshot). When you are the last person alive with an elevator key that Derek and Melanie desperately need, you agree to make a trade. Turns out, when what you're asking for is a threesome - you don't drive too hard of a bargain.

This is one of my favourite fics of all time. This is proof that I do not write for popularity - this fic is written for a fandom on AO3 with a total of five fics FIVE (including mine) and 2 of them are about characters from other media experiencing the plot of this movie as an AU, and mine is the only fic that is x reader. So I didn't just fill a niche - I looked where there was no niche and I dug a hole.

But like - Steven Yeun. Yes, I fell in love with Glenn from TWD, but this is a movie where he is also covered in blood, and rather than being Glenn's meek, reserved self (which I love) - he is outraged and swearing and killing and it makes me foam at the mouth. And I am already in love with Samara Weaving from The Babysitter - so this is literally a killer combination.

My bisexual ass did not even finish the film before I was typing out this fic on my phone.

And I am so happy that I wrote it - because sometimes you just need a self indulgent, blood covered smut.

And you guys can read it too if you want <3

[kristsingto]

Thinking about the Mock-Trailer for The Ex-Morning

Pathapi is said to be the Best Reporter of the Year in the beginning. How. I want to know his career accomplishments so badly? I need to know how he got here!

I’ve been considering why Pathapi acts the way he does in the beginning. Has he always been like, since his university days? Or was it perhaps heartbreak and the passage of time that’s made him more like this? 

Aou is being made to play the exasperated best friend in Be My Favorite and the rival with coffee thrown on him in The Ex-Morning. Someone give both characters a raise. And a boyfriend!

I looooove the trope of the arrogant, whiny jerkass in a successful position who gets humbled. And that paired with him rebuilding his reputation with his ex-boyfriend of all people? I am so ready to see Pathapi’s character arc, and the things Tamtawan makes him do in this trailer makes me think he’ll get more in-tune with the spirit of good reporting and why it’s so important.

How does Tamtawan know and decide to come back? Obviously, he wants to help Pathapi and is still in love with him, but why did he leave? WHY DID HE LEAVE? Later in the trailer, when present-day Tamtawan leaves, it’s after he’s told “Tam. You have two options now.” What are the two options? The way Tamtawan leaves and the look on his face makes him look regretful, but what exactly is motivating him trying to leave here? Why did he leave in the first place? Does Pathapi know? His face looks half confused rather than just heartbroken!

What has Tamtawan been up to? I am intrigued.

The SOTUS reference in their university days flashback? I am obsessed. They were so sweet in that one frame, it makes me wonder how they fell in love. How different were they? How much of the same remains in them? How did they fall in love? Oh my god!

The transition from Pathapi being awkward with shirtless only-clothed-in-a-towel Tamtawan to taking his own shirt off and asking if Tamtawan has an ulterior motive to fluster him is hilarious to me. I love how forward Pathapi is here! And Tamtawan getting flustered is amazing. Oh my god, I love this trailer. It balances a comedic tone, angst, tension, etc all in one show. Can’t help but adore it.

“You’re still the same selfish jerk.” I need to know what happened! I said this above and I’m saying it again. I am intrigued.

Uni Tamtawan pulling Pathapi by his tie? I am obsessed.

The umbrella scene is both so very P’Lit and so very much a SOTUS reference, it delights me. I wonder how many SOTUS references we’ll have in the show proper.

I wonder if the car accident will coincide with the climax of the show.

That! Last! Scene! I suppose this is a scene when they’re hooking up but not properly together, seeing as they’re flirting, shirtless, and probably just had sex, but still won’t admit they still like each other. This sounds great to me.

I’ve mostly not talked about the meta elements here, because I feel it’s less about the contents of the actual trailer and more about the nature of the series as such a KristSingto RPF-type plot. Anyway, I love it. Everything about the meta of this series is perfect to me, and exactly what I wanted. This show is SO fun to think about when you know about the lore of KristSingto in real life. I’m half expecting Tamtawan to have hazed Pathapi at this point!

Side note that is not a side note: I LOVE THEIR ACTING! I love their characters!

Is this vers? I’m going to say it’s vers or Top Krist until proven wrong, because that last scene? Well. Let’s put the KristSingto into the KristSingto.

I love the small cast and the focus on KristSingto! I just need to say this. I am so excited for this comeback, in-part because it really is just Tamtawan and Pathapi’s story.

Tamtawan is supposed to mean “follow” and “sun” whereas Pathapi means earth/soil/ground. Coming off of KongArt, where Arthit is obviously “sun,” and KristSingto, who compare themselves to the sun and moon, this seems so definitely meaningful. Aof and Lit, I need to know what you’re cooking! 

The coals scene is sooooo perfect, both for the characters AND KristSingto themselves. Again bringing it back to the meta of it all, but, oh my god? This is perfect? Aof wrote a screenplay that was KristSingto RPF? On that note, I keep thinking about the idea of KristSingto channeling their feelings from the irl work-partner “break up” and it makes me go a little crazy. Especially with Krist talking about all his efforts to bring Singto back, and how he over-thought it when Singto left. And even more so seeing as they say they’re basically playing themselves.

The lyrics of the song used in the trailer are so fitting, I am now looping it and thinking about Pathapi and Tamtawan forever and ever.

I noticed that Tamtawan goes by “Tam” but did I miss it for Pathapi in the trailer, or do we get no indication of his nickname? I’m curious.

The “Begin Again” for the new Peraya Party speaks to both KristSingto and their new characters, and this is again making me go, oh god it’s true they’re just playing themselves.

I said my ideal KristSingto BL was a vers exes-to-lovers that parallels reality. Evidently, I was not alone.

Is it just me, or do the Pathapi + animals and Pathapi + soil degradation water scenes feel a lot like certain episodes of Friendship with KristSingto? Just me? Maybe it’s just Krist. I love him so dearly.

So much is revealed in this trailer, but that somehow makes me more intrigued about what is not being revealed to us?

Krist still goes for the top lip and Singto still goes for the bottom lip when they kiss. This kills me every time. I am so excited to see lovey-dovey Tamtawan and Pathapi!