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tarotsoul · 4 months ago

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Ghost in the Wind — Part One

SUMMARY: All your life, your presence had been nothing more than a faint kiss of a breeze—nothing impactful, nothing worth noticing. So why did it hurt so much when that remained the case after moving to Prythian?

WARNINGS: a bit of angst, feelings of self-hatred and worthlessness, brief mentions of sexual assault

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

Series Masterlist

“No.”

There was no room for argument in Nesta’s tone, no room for anything other than agreement or else she’d reign the Hells on all of them. Her mate be damned, she would not leave the mortal lands without you. Not again.

“If we take her,” Cassian gritted his teeth, “I am inviting her husband to wage war on our kind if he so chooses.”

Nesta bared her teeth. “Rafe is nothing but a coward and a sorry excuse of a man. What kind of war could he wage? If she stays, then so do I.”

Cassian blanched at his mate, his teeth grinding. They were only supposed to have stopped through for no more than a week, to ensure things in the mortal lands were restoring to somewhat of the normalcy they once had before the war.

He blinked at Nesta, noting the way she bore her feet into the solid ground, as if planting herself there like a tree weaving its roots into the soil. He knew the love she had for her cousin, her only friend, as she’d once told him. The guilt she’d felt when she first left the village, left you, hadn’t eased in the slightest.

Perhaps this was the reason she insisted on joining Cassian on this third-grade mission. He cast a quick glance over her shoulder to the small stone house you were occupying, and closed his eyes to ground his breathing.

“We can’t just bring her back without consulting Rhys first.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Screw Rhys. I’ll deal with him myself if I have to. She is my family, Cassian. My friend. Every night, he beats her and abuses her and takes from her what she will not willingly give. She is coming back with us.”

Cassian took another grounding breath, the iron will in Nesta’s eyes granting not even a fraction of negotiation. There was too much going on right now, too much to sift through to rebuild their city and legions.

But Nesta was right, and despite not knowing you, he couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving a vulnerable soul with a monster who took and abused like Rafe did. Especially not when he saw the pain on his mate's eyes for her cousin.

“Ten minutes. Tell her to pack necessities only. We will need to leave within the hour if we wish to be gone before her husband returns.”

Nesta didn’t cast him a second glance as she turned and sprinted into your home. You scrambled back from the window, heat painting your cheeks that you’d been caught watching them, straining your ears for a sliver of their conversation, to no avail.

She said nothing of your snooping, only grabbed your hand and dragged you to your sleeping chambers. “Pack only what you need. You’re coming back with us.”

You blinked, lungs seizing the air you tried to breathe. Leaving? For the Fae lands?

“Ness,” you tried, but she held up a slender hand to cut you off.

“Don’t. I made the mistake of leaving you behind before. I won’t do it again.” She couldn’t look at you. Not at the bruises marring your skin, or the split lip you’d earned yourself two nights ago for leaving an unwashed pot in the sink.

So you didn’t think twice about the consequences of being caught fleeing. You didn’t think twice at all as you stuffed minimal clothing into a satchel along with a photo of your beloved mother and the worn journal you kept hidden beneath the mattress.

Nesta allowed you a moment to compose yourself as she returned to her mate just outside your home. Home. As if you could ever have truly referred to it as that. This was not a home. You hadn’t had a home since your mother passed ten years ago. Since you married Rafe and your whole world fell apart.

You had prayed. Prayed to whatever out there that would listen. Hoped and hoped that one day your salvation would arrive, that you’d be finally spared from the misery you’d been subjected to for so long. From the pain and terror and loneliness.

You hadn’t realised you were absentmindedly twisting the iron band on your ring finger until the small stone in the centre scratched at your skin. That Gods damned ring that bound you to the monster you called your husband. That iron cage that kept you as his possession instead of his love.

Yet the fear… the fear at the idea of removing it sat far too heavy in your chest. The fear of him finding you, punishing you. But he wouldn’t find you, you knew that. Rafe would never dream of crossing that veil into the Fae lands. And even if he did, you were sure he’d be eaten alive within the first breath he took in that world.

When you met Nesta and Cassian outside, they both had a satchel of their own on their shoulders; stuffed to the brim of bread and cheese and skins of water they’d raided from the kitchen.

The General nodded at you once as you approached. You wondered if you’d done anything to offend him, or perhaps he found this—you—to be an unnecessary burden to him and his day.

“Thank you,” you managed to utter, and both he and Nesta felt the pure relief and gratitude in your voice.

Cassian’s resolve softened, a sympathetic gleam in his eye and he hated himself for a moment for even considering leaving you here alone.

“It’ll take us half a day to reach the wall,” Nesta began, unmoving from Cassian’s side. “When we pass, Azriel will meet us at the border in Spring. Cassian cannot fly the both of us.”

You couldn’t help the apology that slithered up your throat. “I don’t mean to be a burden—“

But it was Cassian who growled in response, “You are not. You are family, and we don’t leave family behind.”

You walked for hours, legs sore and tired and throbbing from the stamina you lacked. But you didn’t want to stop, to ask for a break. They were kind enough to have brought you, you needn’t add any more time onto their already long journey.

So you kept your mouth shut and willed your legs to move, one in front of the other. Hours passed and you could feel that familiar panic rise in your stomach. Nightfall was approaching, which meant Rafe would surely be home by now…

You didn’t want to allow yourself to think of that. Of what he was doing after finding the home empty with nothing but your wedding band on the dresser, the only proof you ever even existed in that house.

It was Cassian who made the call to stop for a break, as though only now remembering how weak a mortal body was compared to a Fae’s—or in his case, an Illyrian.

Nesta had told you many things about her family in Prythian; the members of the Inner Circle, the beautiful city of Velaris and all the wonders it had to offer. Despite the relief you felt for leaving, the anxiety of entering the Fae lands was unmatched to anything you’d felt before.

You rested for only thirty minutes, the three of you eating your way through an entire satchel of food and two skins of water. Perhaps Nesta and Cassian were as tired as you were, though you figured not.

And by the time you reached the wall, night had surrounded you in complete darkness, nothing but a ripple in the air to suggest you had met the end of your homelands.

It was opaque for the most part, but the air seemed to glimmer and fold, as if you were looking magic dead in its face. You allowed your fingers to reach shakily for it, a fearful thought stopping you from making contact.

You turned to your cousin. “Will it hurt?”

She took your hand. “No, though when we pass through you’ll need to stay as close to Cassian and I as possible. Your scent—it’ll be a beacon to all sorts of creatures that roam freely within the Spring.”

Nesta shrugged off her jacket and handed it to you. “It’ll somewhat mask your scent. Just long enough until we meet with Azriel.”

You shoved your arms in the jacket as you put it on over your own and took Nesta’s hand again. Her eyes met yours, something akin to relief and sorrow flickering in her gaze. You didn’t want her pity. And it cleaved your heart into two knowing that you could never do anything to repay her for this, to express just how far your gratitude stretched.

Cassian and Nesta took three steps forward and as you followed, the air rippled around you…you breathed in the new life and second chance you’d been given.

But nothing could have prepared you for what awaited on the other side of the veil.

The first and only thing you saw were a set of sharp, gleaming white teeth before you were shoved to the ground with a hard thud, your head hitting against soft grass with a thump.

Snarls and grunts and shrieks surrounded you, and in the time it took to regain your bearings, Cassian and Nesta were sheathing their daggers once more as the…thing that had attacked lay dead on a field of daisies.

With eerie calmness, you assessed the creature. It was huge, twice the size of Cassian and about four times the size of you. Dark black fur covered its body and ruby red eyes that lifelessly stared into your very soul.

For some strange, obscene reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Not as you breathed in the fresh soil beneath your feet. It felt as though your world had been turned on his axis, as if only now could you see clearly.

Then you heard it, a distant swooshing in the wind. You angled your neck toward the noise, eyes not needing to squint in the darkness as the stars illuminated the sky so beautifully.

Your brows furrowed, but you did not look away. “Something is coming.”

Both Nesta and Cassian followed your gaze then, stepping closer to your still body. The figure came closer, your initial thoughts of it being a large bird being dismissed as a pair of wings much like Cassian’s, only larger, flipped through the midnight air.

You smelt him before catching his face. Pine and wood and parchment. Mint. There was a hint of mint and something sweet like cinnamon as the glorious Illyrian landed swiftly onto the grass.

Azriel.

You remembered him, the Shadowsinger. Silver streaks of the moon casted across his brown skin as he approached swiftly, those dark and languid shadows moving across his form and snaking the earth until they halted at your feet—assessing.

“So glad you finally joined the party.” Cassian said in greeting, though Azriel paid no mind to the tone his brother offered.

Those shadows wrapped around your ankles softly, slinking your skin as they felt you out. You felt something then, a tug in the air that seemed to pull the shadows back to Azriel’s towering form.

That was when you looked at him, breath stolen from your lungs. He was beautiful. A warrior, that you could tell. Solid muscle covered every inch of him, dark black hair that sat messily on his head and swept down his forehead and brows. Hazel eyes met yours, his lips parting—no doubt at the state of your bruised face.

He was beautiful when you’d seen him previously on his brief visit to speak with Lucien… but now, it was as though you were seeing him truly–with so much clarity in your gaze it almost blinded you. Everything about this land did.

“There are more coming, so unless you want a fight, I suggest we leave.”

His tone held no room for argument, yet he spoke in an unrushed drawl, as if these creatures were the least of his concern. He was as large as Cassian, daggers strapped to his leathers, so you supposed they likely posed little to no threat to him and his skills.

“Can you winnow?” Nesta asked.

It wasn’t lost on you how overlooked you were, despite being the reason for his presence. But like most of your life, it came as no surprise to be somewhat invisible. Cast aside. Unnoticed.

Azriel shook his head. “We’ll need to fly to the border between Autumn and Winter, from there I can winnow us back to Velaris.”

Cassian nodded, reaching for Nesta. “We’ll go first, make sure the area is safe. Follow us in five minutes.”

Nesta looked at you, a silent conversation between you both.

You’ll be okay?

I’ll be fine. If you trust Azriel then so do I.

No other words were exchanged when Cassian hauled Nesta into his arms, spread his magnificent wings and shot to the skies. You watched until they were a mere dot beside the stars before returning your attention to the Shadowsinger who was already offering you his.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” He said politely.

You wondered if he’d remembered your name from your first and last encounter almost a year ago, or if when Cassian sent word for aid he’d reminded him of it.

Either way, you offered a timid smile. “You too, Azriel. I apologise for troubling you with this. All of you.”

He shook your apology off. “It’s no bother. Are you hurt anywhere?”

You knew he wasn’t referring to bruises and cuts you already adorned. It seemed as though stepping through that veil gave you more clarity, more understanding of silent thoughts and everything else around you.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Good.” He nodded, and those shadows threatened to reach for your ankles again.

Azriel didn’t pull them back this time, only took a tentative step closer. “I apologise, they’re no threat. Not to you.”

You nodded, gaze upon them as they slinked further up your body and wrapped softly around your arms. Azriel almost bristled at the way you remained so calm. He wondered how much about him and his family you knew. He supposed Nesta had told you much through letters and such.

You didn’t reply, couldn’t bring yourself. You knew how deadly the Inner Circle could be to their enemies. And yet these shadows touched you with more softness than your husband ever did. You didn’t let that thought show on your face.

“Everything feels different on this side of the wall,” you admitted, a little breathless.

Azriel remained looking at you. “Everything feels…clearer.”

You waved the shadows off your body gently, silently shooing them back to their master.

“I’ll need to fly you like Cassian did to Nesta,” he began. “Are you afraid of heights?”

You didn’t know the answer to that. But the thought of being held by him the same way Nesta was by Cassian… that thought scared you. And not because it was Azriel, but because of the sheer closeness and intimacy that was needed for it.

You swallowed it down. “No… I don’t think so.”

He nodded, taking another step closer with an outstretched hand. “You can close your eyes if you wish, and I’ll fly slowly, I swear.”

You heard it then, the pattering of paws on the grass, of claws digging into the soil and snarls of breath into the night. You looked to Azriel, eyes a little wilder than before. He nodded, as if he already knew what you were about to say.

He held out his hand further for you to take, and you took a hold of his marred skin, calloused under your softer palm but you didn’t balk, didn’t pull away as you got a clearer view of the scars that adorned him.

Azriel hoisted you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. “The take off will be harsh, make sure you hold on tight to me.”

And he wasn’t lying. Azriel bent his knees and shoved his full weight into the earth before you both shot into the starlit skies. You didn’t close your eyes, you wanted to see everything this world had to offer. A world that was always at your fingertips but never accessible until now.

The wind seemed to whisper to you, gently caressing your bruised skin and promising a better life. A new life. As though the elements welcomed you home.

It was only moments of uphill force until Azriel evened out and began a steady speed through the clouds. His scent enveloped you, almost overbearing as it encompassed all of your senses.

You worried for a moment then. If his scent surrounded you this way, you wondered how badly yours did to him with such heightened senses. You tried to hold your breath for longer than usual, tried to steady your heartbeat, afraid he’d hear it.

“Are you okay?” He murmured against the shell of your ear. Because even though you tried to mask it, he could sense your every feeling, your every tremor and sigh and sob.

Tears streamed down your face as he flew you both north toward the border between Autumn and Winter.

“Thank you, Azriel.” And you thanked him and thanked him and thanked him. Until your voice grew hoarse from the sobs and you let yourself realise that you were finally free.

Finally safe.

In the transitioning week of being escorted to the Night Court, you had hardly spoken to a soul. For the first two days, you appreciated the silence, the safety–basked in it, even. Nesta had shown you to your room in the House of Wind, an incredible home built into the walls of a large mountain that overlooked the city of Velaris.

“Should you need anything,” Nesta had said softly, “ask the House, it listens.”

And she had been right. The first night, you thought of a hot bubble bath and a gentle breeze had sifted through your sheer curtains, guiding you to your personal bathing chambers where a hot bath had been drawn, scents of calming lavender and jasmine coating you.

You only saw Nesta twice after that, once when she brought you some of her favourite romance books and again, two days later when she told you Feyre and Elain sent their love and well wishes.

She’d had the family's healer, Majda, check you over for any untreated injuries, and when she came up short she offered you a few tonics for the discomfort and encouraged you to rest before sending you back on your way.

You shouldn’t have expected more, shouldn’t have longed for more. You supposed Nesta had done her part enough–saving you from Rafe and bringing you here. And yet, despite the House tending to your needs and the souls of the romance novels…you felt just as alone as you had in the mortal lands.

You hadn’t seen Azriel since either, nor Cassian. You didn’t have much right to ask after them, to thank them again. They had their own lives and roles to fill, you knew your rescue had been nothing more than another third-grade mission to them.

By the fifth day, the realisation had begun to sink in. That you’d been moved from one lonely home into another. Perhaps that was the course your life was fated to take–alone, unnoticed, nothing more than a ghost in the wind, nothing worth acknowledging.

You wrote your thoughts into your leather-bound journal, the only form of release you had for these dark emotions. Yet every time the pen lifted from the parchment, you felt heavier than you had before.

You were yet to leave your bedroom, often sitting at the window seat that overlooked the lights of the city, wondering what life awaited down there. Wondered if you’d ever get the opportunity to explore it. Nesta had mentioned that the House was warded from winnowing, the only way out was to fly or descend the ten thousand stairs.

But you couldn’t fly, and you wouldn’t make the steps down either. You weren’t a prisoner, you knew that. But Nesta had done her part, saving you, bringing you to her and Cassian’s home. You were not her responsibility, not anyones.

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel trapped, restricted. Moved from one stone building and into another. Perhaps that was what finally made you venture out of your room, barefeet padding across the cool floors.

You followed the winding staircase to a lower level, noting the ornate furniture that decorated the large space. A crackling hearth caught your attention, so inviting and warm in front of a plush couch. The House seemed to beckon you to it, a gentle breeze against the backs of your bare legs and it made your short nightgown sway.

Following it, you sat on the couch and a thick blanket materialised and draped itself over your legs at the same time a steaming mug of tea and a new romance novel appeared on the table beside you.

You smiled softly, warmth spreading in your chest as you thanked the House.

An hour or so had passed, not that you were for certain, but the House remained silent. Nothing but sips of your tea and flipping of pages could be heard along with the crackling of the hearth.

For a moment, you felt at peace in your own company. Completely content for this time to sit and read and know you wouldn’t receive a beating or worse for it. You stretched out your back, stifling a yawn as a pair of soft footsteps greeted your ears.

Your eyes widened, an unnecessary apology already on the tip of your tongue, though for what you weren’t sure. That had become the norm for you, apologising for your every breath.

But it was not Rafe that stepped out of the shadows, of course not. It was Azriel, in all his glory, wings tucked neatly behind his back and you counted the seven blue siphons that adorned his leathers.

“Azriel,” you breathed, a sheepish smile on your face.

Finally, some company. Someone to acknowledge your presence and to perhaps converse with. You shuffled on the couch, making to put your book down but all Azriel did was give you a terse nod in greeting and a thin smile before walking down the hall and out of your sight.

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. You should be used to this by now. You were used to it. But you couldn’t control that tiny thread of hope in your chest that things could be different. That you could be accepted and wanted and noticed.

For the eighth night in a row, you were left in the dark with nothing but the crippling loneliness and aching of your soul to keep you company.

A/N: Thank you for reading!! This is the first instalment of this mini-series that I literally got the idea for two days ago lol. It'll be around 5/6 parts, smut will come and a few twists you won't expect!! Unfortunately I'm unable to get my old page back (rhysazriel), which means most of my previous writings have been lost but I'll likely repost the ones I have saved in my google docs in the late future (plug!az being one of them.)

If you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated!! <3

#gitw #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel oneshot #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar imagine #acotar oneshot #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar fluff #acotar angst #acotar smut

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twohearts-hs · 24 days ago

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Dove & Captain: 4 - Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader Series

Words in Total: 9.8k

Pairings: Dr. Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Synopsis: She's his Dove. The ER nurse who is the definition of chaos, trauma and humour in scrubs. He's her Captain, gruff, emotionally guarded war veteran with a prosthetic leg and completely in love with her. Six years together, a mortgage, four dogs and the ability to conquer anything. This is a story of their life in one day. He is 49, she's 30. This is one day of their life based on the 15 episodes of 'The Pitt'. There will be little imagines of their relationship over the years.

Warnings: Swearing, Age Gap, Trauma, Medical Language/Procedure, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, etc.

A/N: This is a complete series of ~60k. I will post a few snapshots of their relationship over the six+ years they've been together.

Hope you enjoy :)

Series Masterlist

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Y/N finally looked at her phone again. It was little past twelve and she had a moment to breathe. Opening her phone, she saw a few messages. One from Jack around a few minutes ago: “Jesus, dove, woke up to this novel of a text. Sounds good about dinner. I’ll grab ingredients soon. Dogs are good. Going to walk them in a bit. About Dolly, send me a link, but can’t promise anything. We have four already… Just be smug to Robby back and put him in his place. Beckett can crash, but can we talk before he comes? Just need to debrief with you. Let Beckett know that the guest bed is made, but if he leaves his socks in the kitchen again, I’m going to make him clean the bathroom. Talk soon.”

She nodded, reading it before going to the next message that was from Beckett. “Fire. Talked to Mom a few days ago. She met a lad at the legion and now thinks she has found her soulmate. Let’s see how long this one lasts…”

Y/n chuckled, nodding before closing her phone. Robby gathered everyone and debriefed with them all about charting. It was a standard lecture about how to improve patient satisfaction scores, to get the hospital more money and to be through with diagnosing.

Y/N finally got the tests results back for Nick Riley, glancing over them, she sighed. The kid did OD over fentanyl. Basically the same age as Beckett.

“Robby,” Y/N said, getting up and walking over to him. She was wearing a cardigan now, a hot pink one, due to her being cold. “Nick Riley’s cerebral perfusion study is back,” she told him, handing him the tablet.

She watched him take a deep breath as he glanced over the tablet to see the results. A loud sigh came before subtle nods. “No blood flow past the brain stem. Ok,” he muttered, looking over at her. “How are you holding up?” he asked, sending her a silent nudge.

Y/N stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Grand. Good,” she muttered and shook her head lightly. “A lot of death today.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Jack had a rough night as well,” he explained.

Y/N nodded. “Must be a full moon,” she mumbled. “Or a retrograde.” He just stared at her for a moment before chuckling. “How are you holding up, Chief?” she asked. “You don’t usually work this day. I’ve been caught up with my shit and didn’t think about you. Just checking in.”

He stared at her for a moment, debating whether to talk, but thought not to. “Just another day in paradise,” he responded. “I’m fine,” he added as she stared at him for a moment with a raised brow. “You sound like Dana.”

“We are cut from the same cloth,” Y/N replied, sending a smirk. “What do you want me to do with Nick?” she asked, going back to work.

“Let me know when the transplant people from CORE arrive,” he said to her.

“Yeah, totally,” she replied before turning away and leaving to check on her patients.

Y/N was so close to winning the bet, but Collin’s got her by one factor. She had crash and the catch wrong, which Collin’s got right. Robby made fun of her for a bit, saying she did her calculations wrong, but Y/N shoved it off. She muttered something like, “Better at counting cards than making bets. There’s a mathematical equation to it which you can never get wrong when you do it correctly.”

Dana and Robby just stared at her as if she had two heads.

The ER was in its usual state of chaos, monitors beeping, sneakers squeaking, call lights flashing, trauma bay doors opening and swinging. It was just another day. Busy, hectic and chaotic.

Y/N was standing leaning against the counter lightly as she wrote something on the computer. Her reading glasses on her nose as she ran a hand down her face. She was focused, humming lowly under her breath some song that Jack showed her a few days ago. He was about educating her on real music, whatever that meant.

Robby approached her. “How many cups of coffee have you had?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know. Maybe four,” she muttered, not thinking. “Did you get me one? I would love you forever. I didn’t sleep last night.”

He stared at her, but she was focused on the computer.

“You know, you’re only supposed to have two cups of coffee a day max while pregnant,” he whispered, leaning into her. Y/N slowly glanced up to him, face falling.

“Fuck,” she whispered.

“How far along are you?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Seven weeks,” she whispered back. “Oh my God,” she whispered again, “the fetal heart rate is going to be increasing, and it could impair oxygenation. It can also increase a miscarriage.” She was whispering more to herself. She glanced down at the floor, trying to calm herself. “Oh my fucking God,” she whispered, voice filled with worry.

Robby instantly softened. He stepped closer, placing a hand on her arm, squeezing it lightly, voice gentle but steady. “Hey, hey, breathe, Ace.”

She nodded, but her hand was already on her stomach like could somehow undo the caffeine with her palms. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t even – fuck, Robby, what if I messed something up?” Her voice cracked on the last word, quiet but filled with a rising panic she didn’t often allow anyone to see.

“You didn’t,” he said firmly. “Y/N, just stop, ok? Deep breaths. It’s not like you shot espresso into your veins through an IV. Four cups ins’t great, but its not catastrophic.”

She bit down her lip, looking at him through wide, glassy eyes. “I know better, though. I fucking know better.”

He nodded. “Yeah, you do. But you also haven’t slept. You’ve been working all week and you’ve been carrying this secret around, trying to function like nothing has changed. You’re stressed. That doesn’t make you a bad mom. It makes you human.”

Her eyes dropped again, and she gave him a small nod. “Thanks, Robby,” she hummed.

“Where’s that giant water bottle you carry around? The pink one? Let me fill it with water and electrolytes, vitamins and all that jazz. Get you hydrated,” he said with a smile, patting her on the back.

“It’s at my station,” she replied. “Thanks.”

He nodded. “Anytime. But before I do that, I do need your advice on something,” he told her, looking at her.

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, shoot.”

“It’s really weird and I don’t know what the hell to do with it. I don’t know if you’ve seen something like this or read about it…”

She slowly nodded, pressing save on the chart she was working on and turning her full attention to him. “Talk to me.”

“There’s a woman who came in this morning. Nausea, vomiting, lightheaded, fatigue, that sort of thing. Vitals were fine. Blood work clean. Nothing to show what was happening. With a few questions, she finally admitted that she had taken an induced vomiting drug. Made herself sick to get here.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Factitious Disorder?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

He shook his head. “Thought that, but no. She wants help. Told me her son is planning on killing some schoolgirls.”

Y/N’s face doesn’t change, instead she just stared at him. “Repeat that?”

Robby leaned forward, voice low. “She said her teenage son has a list of girls he wants to kill. A hit list. She found it. Doesn’t know who to tell. Doesn’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should get the police involved – McKay said I should. Dad died due to COVID. Kid ran off when I questioned.”

Y/N exhaled. “Holy shit, ok.”

“Yeah,” Robby nodded. “I’ve never had anything like this in the decades of medicine I’ve been practising. I mean, what do I even do? I’m not psych. This isn’t my wheelhouse.”

Y/N doesn’t hesitate. “First, you need to document everything. Everything. Everything he mentioned, every action he did. Anything. Everything mom says and does as well. Trauma can cause idealisations like this. Or other mental health disorders. Mom brought him here, which means there’s an element of seeking help rather than hiding it. That’s important.”

Robby nods slowly, absorbing.

“Second,” Y/N continues, her tone soft but confident, “you are talking to her like she’s in a crisis. This is not a crisis right now. Do not make her more worried than she is right now. This is terrifying for her. You need to build therapeutic rapport.”

Robby furrowed his brows. “I’m not a therapist, Y/N.”

She shrugged. “Well, sometimes you need to be. Therapeutic rapport is building a bond, trust between you and the patient. No judgment. Be empathic, validate her feelings, make her feel safe. Hear the whole story. Moms know their kids. I know you’re good at rapport. I’ve seen it.”

He nodded.

“Ask her how she’s coping. Ask if there’s anyone helping her – therapists, counsellors, psychologists, even family. A support system needs to be created. She’s not crazy, she’s worried. She’s a mother whose son might be a danger to others, she’s scared shitless.”

He nodded. “What about the son?”

Y/N shrugged. “He’s a minor, right?” Robby nodded. “It’s not a ‘tell the school’ issue. You need to report this. Don’t call the police. Police don’t know how to deal with cases like this without making it seem criminal. Get psych involved, even social work. I can help do. But right now, your job is the mom. Talk to her. Sit down. Be human. It’s not about diagnosing, it’s about understanding the pain that this kid is going through and how you can support the family. If that makes sense. It’s not black or white, Robby. Tough with situations like this.”

Robby looked at her for a beat, then chuckled softly. “You can be terrifying when you’re calm like this.”

She hummed. “Did my time in mental health, remember? Three years of working in the psych ward as a mental health worker. I’ve sat on too many cold tile floors with kids who thought no one would ever understand them. You don’t forget that. Being a teenager is hard, especially in this day of age.” Y/N squeezed his arm. “I have a teenager brother. It’s hard for them.”

Robby nodded. “Thanks. I mean it.”

Y/N bumped her shoulder with his. “You got this, Cowboy. Just be kind. Active listening. That’s all people ever really need.” He sent her a smile. “Want me to come? Jump in if needed?”

He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, too many bodies. She might freak out.”

Y/N nodded. “Absolutely valid. Go be a therapist for a second. Might even boost your patient satisfaction scores,” she hummed, smiling.

Robby chuckled, shaking his head and walking away.

Dana came up to Y/N a little while later. “Have you eaten, sweetheart?” she asked, leaning to look at her.

Y/N shook her head. “Not since this morning when Jack shoved a sandwich down my throat and then I puked it up,” she replied, humming.

“Come on, Mama,” she hummed, hooking her arm with the nurse and pulling her to the break room.

Once they got there, there were several bags filled with sandwiches. Instantly, Y/N then felt her hunger, sitting down and going through the bags.

“Ugh,” McKay groaned, “the things I would do for pastrami.”

Y/N smirked, going through the boxes to find something she could eat. It was recommended not to eat cold cuts when pregnant, so she was searching for something.

“Is there a turkey and cheese?” Princess asked, glancing over.

“Uh, yeah,” Y/N replied, handing her a box.

The door opened, and Robby came in. “Oh, what is all this?” he asked.

“Lunch. Primanti’s. It appears that we have at least one grateful patient,” Dana replied, looking over her shoulder to see Robby.

Robby smirked. “Hope is alive. Who do we have to thank?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I think there’s a card at the bottom of the bag,” Dana said.

Robby found it, reading it over, however he placed it down, face fallen. “Enjoy your lunch,” he responded, then looked over at Y/N. “But you…eat,” he lectured, pointing at the young nurse.

“I am!” she hollered back, mouth full of food.

“Good.” Then he left the room.

Y/N noticed the wicked change of behaviour from the old man within seconds. Brows furrowed; she grabbed the card.

“What was that?” Whitaker asked.

“Don’t know,” Dana replied.

Y/N sighed. “It’s from Shelby Adamson, Dr. Adamson’s sister,” Y/N replied, handing the card to Dana.

“She sends something every year,” Dana muttered, sighing.

“He doesn’t like her?” Whitaker asked.

Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s about that. It’s about him,” she whispered, biting into her sandwich again.

“Dr. Adamson was Robby’s mentor and he…he died during COVID, so,” Dana replied, another deep sigh came from her.

1300

Y/N got called for a potential drug-induced patient or even psych. Nandi, an influencer who was erratic. Y/N stood next to Robby, arms crossed, as Donnie administered some drugs and Santos and Mohan tried to get the patient’s history.

“Javadi, Whitaker, see if you can do the exam,” Robby said, looking over to the med students.

They nodded. Javadi took out her pen light. “Can you look at the light?” she asked as Whitaker took vitals.

Instantly, the patient flinched, hiding herself away from the light. “No. What was that?” she expressed.

“Ok. Open your mouth?” Javadi tried.

The patient was curled up, scared and filled with fear. Y/N continued to watch the behaviour, glancing over to Robby, who gave her a look.

“No. It’s not real. Where am I?” the patient continued to express, voice filled with fear.

“How do you even do an exam with a patient like this?” Whitaker asked.

Nandi continued to be paranoid.

“Observe her. Wait for her to look at you or open her mouth, and get a quick look. Make sure she moved her arms and legs equally,” Mohan explained to the med students.

Donnie tried to get the patient hooked up to the monitor, but she was fighting.

“Alright, we might need to wait until after the meds kick in,” Robby explained, arms still crossed as he looked at the patient. Then he called everyone out of the room. Y/N followed suit.

Once out of the room, Y/N stood in front of Robby, glancing back as she tried to think of what could possibly have happened. However, Robby let out a sigh.

“Ok, differential diagnosis?” he asked.

“Schizophrenia, first psychotic break. She’s in the right age range,” Javadi suggested.

Y/n slowly nodded. Robby too. “Yeah, what else?” he said.

“Drugs, also common in this age group,” Whitaker explained.

“Common in any age group,” Y/N replied.

“Exactly,” Robby said. “What else?”

“Not just recreational drugs. It could also be toxicity to medications,” Javadi tried.

Y/N nodded again, thinking that could be a possibility as well.

“Don’t just jump to conclusions,” Mohan reminded. “Think big categories and then specifics.”

“Metabolic, hyper- or hyponatremia, calcium, hepatic encephalopathy,” Whitaker brainstormed.

“Endocrine, hyperthyroid, infectious encephalitis,” Javadi added.

“These are all possibilities,” Robby muttered, looking down at the floor for a second. “Ok, let’s work her up medically and see if we can clear her.” Then he glanced at the patient through the window.

“Chem panel, CBC, TSH and T4, drug screen, and hCG,” Mohan muttered, saying the tests they need to do.

“Yep. Keep me posted. If it’s all negative, then admit her to psych,” Robby ordered, nodding at the team before walking off.

Y/N nodded, turning back to the patient to help stabilise her so they could get the tests done.

Y/N watched Robby’s behaviour for an hour. The way he was snappier, grumpier and a little bit too harsh with his tone. She figured it could be because he was hangry or perhaps due to the fact that it was Adamson’s death day. However, she needed to talk to him. She needed him to talk to her and for her to express that he can’t talk the way he does to his team.

When she spotted him exiting the bathroom, she made her way, stopping in front of him. He stared at her for a moment, raising a brow.

“You, me, talk, now,” she barked, pointing to the hallway.

“Y/N,” he tried, voice low and warning.

She shook her head. “Nope. You’re talking to me,” she explained, grabbing his arm and pulling him.

“I’m a busy man, Y/N. I don’t have time–“

“Don’t care. You need a moment to decompress. To breathe. So, we will go to the corner and hash it out,” she barked back, stopping in a spot where no one could see them. “You’re being harsh to the kids. A little bit too blunt, which isn’t like you, Robby–“

He stared at her for a moment before glancing away, rocking back and forth on his feet. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” he said, trying to convince her.

She shook her head. “You’re off today. I’m not the only one who sees it.”

He scoffed.

“You’re snapping. Chewing the kids out like they stole your car. Something’s going on, so tell me,” Y/N explained, nudging him. “Just between us.”

He glanced at her, eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place – exhaustion, maybe. Pain. Or both. His jaw clenched.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered. “Not everything needs to be dissected with your psych degree and nurse intuition. Maybe I’m just in a bad fucking mood.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t snap at people because of a bad mood. That’s not who you are. Also, you need to be professional, Robby. If it is a bad mood, stop impacting other people. We need to work as a team.”

Robby looked away again, like he was trying to swallow something that didn’t want to go down. “You ever think that maybe I’m just a ride for people expecting me to hold it together?” he muttered.

Y/N softened when he muttered that. “Then talk it out. Say it. Don’t lash out at them. You’re their attending, Robby, their mentor. The chief of the ER. They look up to you.”

He let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, today they’re looking up to a man who’s–“ He sighed.

She stared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re one of the only people I’ve ever trusted to go into hell with and come out on the other side. But not like this. Not when you’re burning people with you.” He blinked. Once. Twice. “It’s ok to not be ok.”

Then his tone dropped, almost broken as he glanced down.

“It’s Adamson’s anniversary.”

She nodded slowly. “I figured.”

“And then all the fucking deaths, chaos. It’s just–“

“It’s a day, Robby. Too much in one day,” she replied, sending him a small smile.

He nodded, breathing harder now. “I just. Everyone expects us to fix things and sometimes I don’t know how to fix things.”

Y/N nodded. “You’re not supposed to fix everything, Robby,” she said gently. “But it’s ok to not be ok. We are doing our best. All of us.” Robby stared at her. “We aren’t superheroes. We aren’t God or whatever people believe in. We are just ER cowboys trying to win the rodeo,” she replied.

There was a long pause, and Robby looked like he might finally crack. His mouth opened but then Y/N’s face shifted.

Instantly, she grasped the wall as she clasped her stomach, holding it. Wincing, as she held her breath.

Robby watched her, eyes widening. “Y/N?” he asked, instantly, alarm.

Her brows furrowed as she continued to feel the intense cramps. “Fuck,” she whispered before shaking her head. “No, no, no, you do not get to do this.” Y/N bent over, both hands covering her stomach now.

Robby stepped closer, his voice soft but urgent. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

Y/N glanced up at him, colour draining from her face. He said her name again, hand coming out to hold her, but instantly, she pushed past him. Robby turned, seeing her beginning to try her best with walking away.

“Y/N,” he tried, walking after her.

“I’m fine, go back to work,” she whispered, breathy.

He scoffed. “No, no. You’re not fine,” he said, trying to reach for her, but she pulled away.

She turned to him. “Fuck off and leave me alone,” she barked. “Do not follow me.”

Then she disappeared down the hall, leaving Robby standing here, pulse pounding in his ears.

He knew it. He knew exactly what was happening. And this time, he couldn’t fix it either.

1400

Y/N pushed the bathroom door open. She knew what was happening, biting down on her bottom lip, she closed the bathroom door, locking it. Sitting down on the toilet, she pulled her pants down and glanced at her underwear.

Instantly, her stomach turned. Instantly, a sob came from her. Instantly, she closed her eyes and lost it.

Blood. So much blood.

She was miscarrying.

Sitting there, she let it happen. She let everything happen. Y/N closed her eyes, sitting there on the toilet. Her pants were down, her hands were on her knees, and the tears just came. Y/N knew it was going to happen. It happened before. The chance of her getting pregnant was slim, but the chance of her carrying to term was even slimmer.

There was a piece of her that was hopeful. Bleeding can happen in pregnancy, and she was still in her first trimester, but as she opened her eyes again and looked at her underwear, she shook her head.

This was not light bleeding. Not even close. This was truly a miscarriage.

Y/N let the tears happen for minutes. She knew Robby would find her if she got spotted, but she couldn’t think about this right now.

She just had to let herself grieve in solitude.

Twenty-four hours. She had knowledge that she was pregnant for twenty-four hours. She found out around two o’clock the day prior and now it was just a little past two, and she was not pregnant anymore.

Y/N took deep breaths. Allowing herself to calm herself down. Cleaning her underwear and grabbing a sanitary pad from the bathroom, she fixed herself up at the mirror. She had to go on. Few more hours. Few more hours and she could go home.

Y/N knew Beckett wanted to come over today, but she couldn’t let him anymore. She needed to be alone. Tomorrow was her day off. She could wallow in her own pity or pretend it never happened.

Then it hit her.

Jack. Her sweet, old man, Jack. He had no idea. Not a single clue what was going on.

There was no pregnancy anymore. There was no exciting news. There was no baby. There was no way she was going to tell him now.

He didn’t know about the last miscarriage. They weren’t together at the time. She had her last one at twenty-two. Eight years ago. A different partner at the time. A whole other world.

Y/N grasped the sink for a moment, wiping her tears before looking back up. She smiled, showed her teeth and then took a deep breath.

She needed to confirm the miscarriage. She needed proof.

Opening the door to the bathroom, she kept her head down, walking past everyone and making her way to the ultrasound machine that was standing by the nurses’ station. She grabbed it, wheeling it to Central 16. However, Robby watched her. Robby watched her with Dana next to him as Y/N tried to hide this from everyone.

Instantly, he pushed off the leaning post against the station and followed suit.

Y/N was in the trauma room, turning the ultrasound on while grabbing the gel, when the door opened.

“Lie down,” Robby whispered. “Let me,” he said.

Y/N turned her head, tear tear-stained face and reddened eyes. However, no more tears were thre. She froze for a second, gripping the ultrasound probe too tightly, knuckles white. The room was quiet, too quiet. The kind of silence that made everything echo, even your own breath.

Y/N stared at him, no words, just shook her head in a silent ‘no’. Robby stepped forward gently, hands raised as if he was approaching a wounded animal.

�� “Please, Ace,” he said softly. “Let me help.”

She blinked slowly; tears welled again but didn’t fall. Her voice was nearly gone. “I know how to use an ultrasound machine, Robby,” she responded.

“I know you can,” Robby replied. “But you shouldn’t have to do this. Not alone.”

Y/N’s lips trembled. Her fingers loosened around the probe before she let it drop onto the tray beside the machine. She didn’t say anything – just walked slowly over to the medical bed and laid back, legs still tense, arms folded across her chest.

Robby moved with care, grabbing a pair of gloves and setting up the ultrasound. He didn’t speak as he pulled, he pivacy curtain across the window and door. The room filled with a quiet hum of the machine warming up.

“This is just to check, ok?” he said. His voice was steady and careful. “I’m going to use a little pressure.”

She nodded without looking at him. Her jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt. Mind racing as she took deep breaths. Tucking her shirt up, she exposed her stomach to him.

Robby squirted the gel onto her lower abdomen and gently moved the probe into place. Y/N turned to look at the screen. Both of them did.

Nothing.

He tilted the wand slightly, adjusted angles.

Still nothing.

No heartbeat. No flicker. It was there yesterday, but today it was gone.

The silence was deafening.

Robby’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Y/N…”

“Try transvaginally,” she whispered, staring at the screen. “It would be hard to see it as I’m so early. It’s more accurate.”

Robby stared at her for a moment, watching as she broke her eye contact from the screen to look at the man, she was so close with. When their eye’s met the hope that was in Y/N’s eyes, the sparkle, was long gone since this morning. She knew the answer, but she was science-based and needed to know.

“Ok,” he muttered, pulling the probe away.

“Get me something to drape myself,” she muttered, and Robby nodded, handing her a sheet from a cart in the corner.

Robby turned his back to her and Y/N pulled her pants down, underwear and all, before draping the sheet over her.

“I’m bleeding,” she whispered, warning him. “Vaginally,” she muttered added. “Because I’m–“

He nodded. “I know. It’s ok, Ace. I’ve got you.”

He didn’t look at her body. He didn’t even glance. He just handed her the internal probe and told her she needed to insert it herself. Y/N sat on the gurney, knees up, legs spread as she inserted it.

“It’s in, Robby,” she whispered.

He nodded, finding the probe under the drape, his arm steadying on her knee, a comfort message as he looked back at the screen.

Still nothing.

Just the hollow blackness of an empty gestational sac. No flicker. No movement. The image that meant life twenty-four hours ago was now confirmation of loss.

Y/N closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. She didn’t cry. She didn’t even flinch. It was like her soul had gone quiet. Numb.

Robby slowly removed the probe and stepped back, carefully covering her again. He went to open his mouth to explain the next steps when it comes to having a miscarriage, but Y/N stopped him.

“Not my first rodeo, Cowboy,” she muttered with a hint of a joke, pulling her pants back up. “This is my third,” she casually said.

Robby stared at her. Hearing such a secret, the vulnerability of her words. “Have you and Jack gone through this before?” he asked. “Were you trying?”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “No and no. I was twenty-two last time. Then nineteen the first time,” she responded. Y/N was moving to sit on the edge of the medical bed, looking at Robby, who was staring at her like she was broken. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he whispered, brows furrowed.

“With pity,” she said. Then she took a deep breath. “Don’t tell Jack. Don’t ever tell Jack. Don’t ever bring it up to Jack. Jack will never know. Never ever know. This is my story. Not our story,” she said, words very deliberate and soft.

Robby’s brows furrowed, jaw tightening. “Y/N–“

“I’m fucking serious, Robby,” she snapped, eyes finally locking on this. “He’ll never know. You hear me? This is going with me to the grave.”

“He loves you, Ace. So much,” Robby said quietly, eyes soft but firm. “He deserves to know. He would want to know. I would want to know if we were together,” he said.

“But we aren’t,” she casually shrugged before glancing up at the ceiling. “Jack has had a hell of a life. So much loss. He doesn’t need this on top of it. He thought I couldn’t get pregnant. He made his peace with it. I don’t need to disrupt that.”

Robby crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not good going through this alone,” he muttered.

She shook her head. “Well, sometimes there are things you do have to conquer alone,” she responded, jumping off the bed and looking at the chief of the ER. “Patient-Doctor confidentiality, Robby. I was your patient,” she said. “Don’t tell Jack.”

Robby swallowed, nodding. “Go home, Y/N,” he said, a little too sternly, a little too roughly. “Go home. We’ll cover you.”

She stared at him, crossing her arms. “I’m not dying, Robby. I’m miscarrying, I’m fine–“

“You’re emotional,” he whispered.

Her head snapped to him. “Oh, fuck you, Robby,” she barked, shaking her head and walking to the door. “Burn the scan. Delete the images. This never happened,” she said. “Thank you, though, for being here for this minute.”

Robby didn’t say anything as she opened the trauma room door. He just watched her walk away with fire in her step and devastation in her eyes.

The minute the door clicked shut behind her, he ran a hand through his hair, then face through his beard and exhaled hard. This was the part of the job that hurt the most. Not the trauma, not the chaos. It was watching someone you love – really love – bleed silently and refuse to help.

And Jack?

Jack would lose his fucking mind if he knew what just happened in this room.

Y/N went to the nurse’s station, sitting down and opening up the computer. Dana knew what was up. Robby mentioned Y/N tumbled in pain, and then she wheeled the ultrasound machine into the trauma room. She stayed silent for a moment, debating what to do with the young nurse who was pretending nothing happened.

She walked over, pulling a seat next to Y/N.

“Talk to me,” Dana whispered.

“Rather not,” she replied, eyes focused on the screen. “But thank you for being like a mom to me,” she whispered. “Thank you for the support.”

“Always, sweetheart,” Dana hummed back, touching her shoulder, squeezing it. “But I’m here.”

Y/N nodded, halting her type before looking at Dana. “I’m going to give the same speech to you as I did to Robby. This is between us. Jack will never know. You hear me never know. Ever. It’s my story and I chose who gets to know,” she said quietly, voice sharp.

Dana nodded staring at her for a moment. “Of course.” Then Dana moved away from Y/N, knowing that hovering wasn’t going to benefit her at all.

Y/N instantly was on her feet when a child rolled in on a gurney. Paramedics announced she was a drowning victim. Y/N instantly grabbed gloves and hurried over.

“Amber Philips, six years old. Found at the bottom of a home pool with an unknown downtime. Asystole on the monitor,” the paramedics called out as Y/N hurried alongside them.

“Intubated with a cuffed 4.5, 22-gauge left AC, 0.25 epi three minutes ago,” another called out.

Y/N grasped the underlying sheet, as someone counted down before they moved the child from the gurney to the medical bed. Instantly, she was back to herself, grabbing supplies and working around the doctors.

“Whitaker, take over compressions,” Robby called out before looking up. “Any family coming in?”

“Grandma and little sister,” a paramedic called out.

“Fast and deep,” Collin’s stated.

Whitaker began doing compressions as Mel stepped in with her stethoscope. “She’s really cold.”

Y/N heard that, knowing what that meant and nodded, already going to work before Robby could say anything.

“Ace, get a core temp,” he called out.

“On it already,” she replied.

“Good breath sounds bilaterally,” Mel called out.

“Should we use the Lucas?” Whitaker asked.

“No, she’s way too small for that,” Collin’s replied.

Y/N was grabbing her temperature, brows furrowed. “Rectal temp only 85.” Y/N shook her head. “Kid’s got moderate hypothermia,” she stated. Robby glanced at Y/N who was deep into her work.

“Yeah,” he stated, nodding. “We need to get her up to 90 if we have any chance of restarting her heart.”

They all nodded.

“250 ccs heated saline. Set up the Arctic Sun. Continuous core temp monitoring, and prep another epi 0.25,” Collins called out, and Y/N instantly went to work grabbing the supplies and things needed.

Robby just stood there, looking at Y/N. “Robby, if you keep staring, I will throttle you,” Y/N muttered, walking around him.

He then nodded, out of his daze. “Yup,” he muttered, looking back at the patient.

They continued to work on the patient, trying their best to bring her back. Y/N tried not to think that there was a little girl on the table, someone’s daughter.

Grandma came in, sitting next to Amber.

“She wasn’t breathing, so the medics put a tube in her throat,” Robby whispered to the grandmother.

“She’s so cold,” Frances, the grandmother, called out, scared.

“We’re warming her up. That way, she’ll have a better chance to respond to the medicines,” Robby explained, looking back at Y/N who refused to look him in the eye.

“They moved a bench next to the pool fence so they could go over, because their soccer ball went in the water. Amber couldn’t make it out of the deep end. The gate was locked. I was vacuuming. I didn’t hear them,” Frances muttered, holding onto her granddaughter as she sniffed and sighed.

Y/N’s heart broke hearing that, but she couldn’t think of that right now. She had a job to do.

The parents came in soon after. Y/N watched them as the mother came to hold her daughter. Y/N swallowed.

“Rhythm check. Hold compressions,” Collins called out.

Whitaker took a step back. But the machine was flat lining.

“Asystole. Resume compressions,” Collins ordered.

Whitaker went back to CPR while Y/N held the breathing bag.

“Three minutes since the last epi,” Y/N said.

“Push another,” Collins replied.

“Did you shock the heart?” the mother asked, glancing up.

“Uh, no,” Robby replied, calmly, lowly.

“Why…why didn’t you shock the heart?” the mother asked, words desperate and confused. “We’ve got to save her. You’ve got to shock the heart.”

“Heart rhythm right now is flatlining. That’s not treatable with a shock. We’re trying to get the rhythm to change to something we can shock by warming her up,” Robby replied, voice quite and low.

“Ok. So, we’ve got to warm up. You’ve got to get some more blankets in here or something,” the mother rambled.

“We are giving her warm IV fluids, and you can feel these blue pads. They have warm water running through them like a hot tub,” Robby muttered.

“Are you sure you’re doing everything?” the mother asked, quietly.

“Yes, we are,” Robby confirmed.

Robby’s eyes went back to Y/N, who glanced up to see him. He was just staring her, and Y/N took a deep breath and dodged his eyes.

They continued longer trying to bring back this little girl. Y/N didn’t try to think of the situation but rather the job that needed to be done. Whitaker continued to do chest compressions, warm saline went through her veins and Y/N helped with getting oxygen into her.

“Core temp is 88,” she spoke up. Slowly it was climbing.

“Is that good?” the dad spoke up, looking around the room.

“It’s up from 85 on her arrival, so we’re headed in the right direction,” Collins spoke up.

Robby was hovering, arms crossed as he walked around the room. His eyes were on the little girl, then Collins, before jumping back to Y/N, who remained emotionless.

“You hear that, Amber?” the mother spoke. “It’s better,” she said between breaths as she ran her hand through her daughter’s hair. “You’re getting better.”

“I need to step out for a second. You’re in good hands,” Robby whispered, looking at the parents. “Come find me when it’s over 90,” he whispered to Collins before leaving the room.

Eventually the core temperature got to 91. Robby was back in the room, glancing at monitors. Mateo was on the bag down helping her breathe while Y/N stood with her arms crossed.

“Can you shock the heart now?” the dad asked.

“91 is warm enough for her heart to respond,” Robby muttered, still looking at the monitors.

“Hold compressions,” Collins addressed. Whitaker stopped and the machine flatlines. Y/N walked to the phone to hear the results of the labs.

“Asystole,” Mel whispered.

“Resuming compressions.”

Listening to it, her face fell, nodding. She hung up, placing the phone back on the wall before turning to the crowd. She took a breath. “Potassium levels are back,” she said.

Robby looked at her, raising a brow.

“12.2,” she breathed, knowing what it meant. Her eyes looked over the crowd as Robby walked over, bending down next to the family.

Y/N’s heart broke, looking over to the girl on the table. Seeing her small frame, her lifeless, small frame and sighed. Another death. Another death on this day.

“No one has ever survived a cardiac arrest with a potassium over 11. There is absolutely no chance of recovery,” Robby said, voice low, calm and soft. He took a breath. “I am so sorry. Amber has died.”

Y/N instantly glanced down, biting down on her bottom lip.

“Before we stop, do you think her sister would like a chance to say goodbye?”

“No,” the dad responded, shaking his head. “Uh, Bella shouldn’t see her like this.”

“Ok,” Robby replied, sending a solid nod. “You can stay in here for as long as you like. We are going to stop now,” he told them.

The mother was hysterical. Y/N couldn’t blame her. She just lost a child. Her child. A daughter who barely lived. So small, so young. Y/N lost a child today, and it might not have been the same as the mother, but it was still a child.

Robby met Y/N’s eyes, and he saw her expression. His head nodded to the door and she nodded back, quietly excusing herself from the room.

Y/N walked right outside the trauma ward into the ambulance bay. The sun was shining, the wind was soft, and it was just a beautiful day. A beautiful September day, but it was such a fucking shitty day. She leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath and staring in front of her.

“Fuck, I want a cigarette,” she muttered. “Just one fucking cigarette.”

However, she could hear Jack’s words in her brain scolding her for pumping poison into her lungs. His words would be so simple “Dove, rather you talk to me than take your stress out through inhaling toxins.”

If that was so fucking simple. If everything was so fucking simple.

She had no idea how long she had been there for, but she saw Nick Bradley’s body being wheeled out on a gurney to the ambulance bay to be transported for organ donation. She missed the memory walk. However, Y/N didn’t move. She stayed put, glancing ahead.

Dana, Collins and Robby came out to see the ambulance leave. Y/N stayed put, not saying a word, not even looking at them. Instead, just stared ahead. Her arms were crossed, then she glanced down at her shoes, seeing the stains from the job. Her cardigan was gone. Just the long-sleeved cheetah print she had under the lighter scrubs. Y/N pulled the band from her hair, letting it fall over her shoulder. Long, thick locks that cascaded in perfect waves.

Robby spotted her by the doors, about three metres from them. Her back against the wall, just staring. He debated whether or not to walk over. Would she be down to talk? Would she even want to talk?

He lingered, hands on his hips, watching her, hus head straight then a slight tilt he did whenever he was thinking too hard. Collins and Dana exchanged a glance, one that said, “leave it to Robby” before heading back in through the double doors, the hush of grief following them.

Robby waited a beat longer. Then walked over.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood beside her, leaning back against the same wall, crossing his arms. His shoulders brushed hers, but she didn’t move. Instead, her head came, leaning over to his shoulder.

Her eyes remained forward, lips pressed together and jaw tight. She swallowed hard before she took a deep breath.

Robby didn’t know what to say.

“You missed the walk,” he said after the moment, voice low.

“I know.”

“He was your patient.”

She was silent for a moment, then a small, “I know,” came. Nothing else came from her, instead, she just moved her head to get deeper into the crook of his neck.

Robby’s hand came, grasping her hand as their hands entwined. “I’m here,” he whispered.

She nodded. “I know.” He went to open his mouth. “Don’t tell me to go home. Please don’t. That’s the last place I want to be.”

He said nothing, stayed quiet.

“You’re a good man, Michael,” she whispered. “A really good man. Who deserves so much. Happiness, peace, solitude and a fair life,” she mumbled. “I’m thankful for you. I’m grateful you’re in my life.” Then she breathed. “I’ll always have love for you,” she whispered, looking down. “But this job,” she muttered and took a deep breath in, “slowly degrades you. Burns brain cells. Eats your blood count. Destroys your faith.”

“I know,” he replied. “You’ve had a day.”

She stayed quiet for a brief second before pulling away and looking up to his six-foot frame. “No, we are having a day. Not just me.”

He nodded. “Yeah, pretty fucking shitty. But this is what we do.”

Y/N nodded in silence before looking back in front of her. “I should tell Jack, right?” she whispered.

“Yeah, you should.” She nodded, reaching for her phone but he stopped her hand. “This is something to do in person, Y/N. I would like to hear it in person. Not due to selfish needs, but because I would want to hold you while you told me. Wipe your tears. Hold your hand. Caress your hair and whisper ‘it’s going to be ok’.” Y/N met his eyes, and he saw how broken they were. “I would tell you how much I love you. I would ask what you’d want next. Then I’d run you a bath, get in with you and hold you. I’d whisper sweet nothings, delivering kisses along your skin as I rub your stomach. Then we’d go to bed, and I’d hold you all night.”

Y/N stared at him. They said nothing for moments. Just stared at one another. Their hands were still entwined together.

Then she took a long, deep breath. “A lot of death today,” she mumbled.

“I agree.”

She broke her gaze from him and looked ahead. “It’s been officially like a hundred days of me not smoking. I stress smoke. Since I was eleven, and stole them from my mother. I might light one or two, or a whole packet,” she muttered. Then she took another breath. “Jack found me last time. I’d got news that my mom was ok. She was missing from her housing facility. She was missing for two weeks. Found,” she let out a chuckle, “at our old shit box home. We lived in it till I was ten before we got evicted. She was pregnant with Beckett at the time. We moved into my Nana’s. Beckett was born not soon after,” she mumbled. He looked at her, listening but then she shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I just want a fucking cigarette, and I can hear Jack’s brooding, grumpy old man voice in the back of my head lecturing me.” She met his eyes. “Don’t lecture me, Cowboy,” she joked with a small smile. “I bet you have vices to deal with your shit.”

He smirked, chuckling. “Hey, we work in the ER, the ways we cope can’t be judged.” Though he winked at her, and she raised a brow. “I can’t give you a cigarette as I don’t smoke and I know Jack would throttle me if he found out. But,” he hummed, digging into his pocket, “I have a mint.”

Y/N stared at the mint he had. The peppermint, one that brought a smile to her face. “That’s from the staff room.”

He nodded. “Yes, it is.”

She then sent a small smile. “Jack, before we started dating, would hand me a mint from the staff room whenever I had a bad case. He would say something like, ‘the burning would distract you’. We’d sit on the rooftop. Talk about anything. Well, he was my boss, so I didn’t know what to talk about. So, we’d talk about common things, which usually was how bad the coffee in the break room was and how I had a conspiracy that the sandwiches from the cafeteria were recycled from the university and from frozen. I was awkward with him.”

Robby glanced at her. He had one thought – if she wasn’t on night shifts for two years and on days instead, would they have had months like this…leading to a life together.

“I didn’t know that,” he said gently.

“Jack’s not a talker,” she responded. “Now he is. Not a yapper, but like the type to express his wants and needs bluntly.”

Robby chuckled. “Yeah, best mates we are,” he hummed.

Y/N nodded. “Oh, I know. You two trade tools, talk about trucks and bond over building things from scratch.”

Robby chuckled. “I did pressure wash your rancher home this past summer,” he mumbled. “And your Bronco.”

Y/N chuckled. “Jack has threatened me that if I continue to keep my Bronco a mess from all my trash, shit and life, I will be sleeping in the guest room.”

Robby chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, he’s a military man. Organisation, clean, sleek,” he muttered.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m right now banned from his truck because I spilt my Starbucks in it last week and plus left my shit in it. But it wasn’t shit. It was like a claw clip, a lipgloss, a tide pen, an old coffee mug and my panties,” she muttered, and Robby raised a brow.

“Panties?”

“We went on a walk, and I ended up swimming in my undergarments, so I took them off in the car while he gave me his shirt. I forgot to bring in my lake-soaked panties. Classic Jack is like ‘Dove, the truck isn’t a purse’ and ‘Your chaotic gremlin energy does not belong in the truck. Truck is sacred’,” she muttered with a chuckle while doing a grumpy Jack impression. “Now, when we have to go anywhere, he demands we drive my car when we have three other cars on the property, but he complains they are ‘collectors’. Then he goes on about the mess. Whatever…”

Robby rolled his eyes in laughter. “You’re a chaotic girl,” he muttered. “And a chaotic gremlin.”

“No, I’m spicy. Unique. Different. Keep you on your toes type of girl,” she responded. Then she smirked. “But, I’ll accept gremlin.”

Robby nodded. “You know it was love at first sight with him,” he mumbled.

Y/N heard him, heart fluttering for a moment before shaking her head. “No, it wasn’t. When we met, he was emotionally shut down. Still grieving his late wife. I was this chaotic thunderstorm who entered the ER at twenty-two, who questioned the way he charted and his brooding demeanour.” Then she chuckled. “The first year, it was just professional, but I also mainly worked with you Robby on days. I moved to nights because of the premium rates and then gradually, he started to challenge me, teach me new things. After one hard case, he came over and crashed on my couch. Then he started to crash every shift we had together and then he was sleeping in my bed. We were just friends. He never touched me or flirted with me. Then one day, I just kissed him. Somehow, I did it on the rooftop and then…magic. Six years later, four dogs, a mortgage on a rancher on an acre of land by the edge of a city, a Bronco he bought for me, paid off my debt, paying my brother’s university and endless camping trips where I complain about shitting in a hole and sleeping on the floor.” She took a breath. “Why me? I ask every day. Why me? Because I’m far from perfect. Childhood trauma. Addict Mother. Dad,” she breathed, “dad, who has a whole other family. A half-brother who’s my world. And so many stories I’m not proud of but had to do to survive.” Then she shook her head. “He doesn’t know it all. I keep so much because he’s Jack. Old-fashioned, but still progressive, the type who,” she looked over to Robby and whispered, “makes sure a teenage girl gets an abortion. Brooding, strict, blunt, but so kind, deliberate, gentle and patient. The type who makes two of everything when he makes a coffee, or a lunch, because he wants to ensure I’m taken care of. The one who takes care of everything, so I don’t have to worry. Lectures me on letting the dogs on the bed or spending 7$ on a coffee.” Then she let out a loud cackle. “The man who hates my mother but still supports her housing. Buys her groceries for her with me. Comes with me to check on her and didn’t get mad when I was hiding that I was sending her money from our account.”

Robby stayed quiet, knowing she didn’t need a response.

“I’m so incredibly happy,” she whispered. “I made my own happiness. Becoming a guardian to Beckett at nineteen, raising him when my mother couldn’t, supporting myself and him while I attended school, going to university, becoming a nurse…getting Winston. But he came, and it was just like, ‘yeah, I’m good now. Don’t need anything else’. But,” she breathed, “a baby.”

Robby glanced over but her eyes were focused on a rock on the ground. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Moments. He knew she was thinking of the best way to say it. Her brain was going over every word in her brain.

“I was a mother,” she eventually said,” I am a mother.”

Robby’s brows furrowed.

“I became a mother at fourteen when mom went on a bender for two weeks. Gone, came back for her shift and then fucked off forever. I had a four-year-old brother. I had no choice,” she muttered. “Fuck,” she scoffed. “How am I alive? With her as my mother. Fuck knows. But Beck is mine. He is my child. He’s my son,” she whispered. “Jack sees him as a son. He takes care of him. For me. For us. For him. But also, because he’s Jack,” she muttered as tears came.

Then everything hit. Memories she shut out from her childhood. Moments she didn’t know ever existed. Situations she hid from herself. Tears began to come down her cheeks.

“Jack can know about this,” she eventually muttered. “But he can’t know all of me. Of everything I’ve done to be here today to be with him because he wouldn’t understand it.”

Robby didn’t interrupt. He let her sit in that silence, let the tears fall. One thing Y/N taught him was active listening and how beneficial it was. But it was so rare to see Y/N like this, how she talked like this. Her truth that isn’t jokes, humour, and smirks. Her world was beautiful now, he knew that. But the way she spoke broke him internally. But this wasn’t a moment for laughter, but rather her talking about a grief that suited her.

She sniffled hard and swiped her cheeks with the sleeve under her scrub top. “He wouldn’t understand it,” she whispered again, quieter this time. “He’s ex-military…we are survivors in different ways, but I don’t understand his trauma, and he wouldn’t understand mine. But he’s good. He’s cleaner in ways I never was. Sure, he may have combat fought and saw shit. But, never had to,” she shook her head, “never mind. He’s a good man and I needed him, and I thank the universe everyday for us.”

Robby nodded.

“But I want a baby,” she whispered. “I realized it in the last twenty-four hours, and I can’t have a baby, Robby. But it doesn’t make sense for us to have a baby. He’s forty-nine. We are workaholics. I still love a good party. I smoke if Jack doesn’t catch me, drink like an Irishman at a pub and dance like it’s 1999,” she said as she stared ahead. “Beckett was my baby. He was my baby, and I became a mother at fourteen,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I think I just realised that.” She scoffed. “I have to be his mother because ours is a piece of fucking shit.”

Robby swallowed thickly, chest tight, watching her unravel, not in chaos, but in clarity. A trust she hadn’t spoken aloud, maybe not even to herself.

He pulled her closer to his side, holding her. “Yeah,” he whispered. A piece of him would want to say I would give you everything, but he knew Jack already did. “Beckett is yours. Might be a adult now–“

“Don’t remind me,” she muttered. “He went to Jack two weeks ago for advice on oral sex.”

Robby snickered, rolling his eyes. “You’re a good mom to him, Ace. You’ve done a good damn job.”

Y/N looked at him, and he looked at her. “You’re a good man, Michael. In another life, I’d give you what you wanted,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“In another life, Ace.”

Then she scoffs. “God, I’m turning into an intern or a med student, crying in the ambulance bay,” she muttered before letting out a loud, real laugh.

Robby smirked. “Welcome to the club. Took you long enough. They meet daily. Dana brings them muffins.”

She glared at him. “I’m a nurse, not a goddamn med student. Crying is for the weak,” she barked but then smirked.

“So judgmental, the rookies need to feel, Ace.”

Their eyes were still looking at one another. “Do you think Jack would be mad if I didn’t tell him right away? Tell him when I’m ok?”

Robby shook his head. “I would be ok with that,” he whispered but then sighed. “But Jack, he’d wouldn’t be mad, he’d be upset that you went through this alone.”

She nodded. “He would say his classic line. I literally have a quote diary for him,” she muttered with a smile. “He would say,” she began and looked at Robby, clearing her throat for her best Jack impression, “it’s in the diary, ‘Dove…I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.’ Then he would be like, ‘Not in you, but in me. That I wasn’t there, but also that you went through this alone,’ isn’t that a Jack saying.” She smirked, proud of herself. Robby stared at her for a moment before nodding and chuckling.

“You’re right on point, Ace.”

“God, I know. I’ve been practising,” she hummed, smirking and sending him a wink and nudging his shoulder. “Anyway,” she whispered moments later. “You’re the Chief, fuck off and save lives.”

He looked at her again and nodded. “You right?” he asked, nudging her.

She looked at him for a moment, finding her words then broke in a smile. “I need a bloody case.”

“Don’t jinx it.”

“I need them alive. But like a good adrenaline rush. Earlier, when you let me do that intubation,” she hummed, nudging him again, “convincing me to join the daylight?”

“You were moved to day shifts ten days ago,” he stated nonchalantly.

“So, I can always change. You are on salary, me…well, hourly.” Then she smirked. “I love you, Cowboy, but like, you need to convince me to stay on the day. Jack lets me do way more on our shift.”

He raised a brow, “It’s day. I can’t let you play being a doctor,” he stated. “Hate to break it to you, Ace, but you have a BSN, not an MD.”

“Well, fuck you too, Robby.” They stayed silent for moment. Then she smiled. “Hey, Cowboy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the mint,” she said with a smile, holding up the wrapper like a prize. “It helped. But not like a cigarette though.”

He chuckled. “Well, if you stay on days, I’ll buy you a pack and store it in my locker for when you need them. But you can only smoke between 8am-6pm before Jack comes.”

She smirks. “Marlboro lights, Cowboy. Take notes,” she hummed, winking.

He nodded as she dropped her hold. “Locked in mind, Ace,” he hummed, smirking. She nodded. “Go, save lives. I’ll be there in two.”

He nodded, kissing the side of her temple before squeezing her arm and walking away. For a second, he paused, turning on his toes to look at her. “I may be good friends with Jack, but talk to me, ok? We are friends.”

She smirked. “More than friends. Great friends, Cowboy. I’ll call you if I need you,” she muttered then lowered her voice, “better fucking do it to me if you need me.”

He stared at her, mouth dropping a second before nodding. “Affirmative.”

She smirked, watching him walk away. “That’s my saying!” she called out.

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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 9 months ago

Note

OMG I have an idea

What if a villain hit reader with a love potion and the Yandere JL has to deal with reader being obsessed with one of them until it wears off🙏🙏😭(I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR YAN JL WORKDGHBJB)

A Day in Life: Love Pollen

Synopsis: A day in your life where you get hit with love pollen, get kidnapped, and are rescued by the Justice League.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader

Tw: 18+; PDA; Dry humping; Kinda public sex bc they're in a deserted island’s beach, so it's basically out in the open but no one’s around; Dubcon/noncon bc, you know, love-and-kinda-sex pollen; Also maybe drugging bc of that; Writer is the Justice League's weakness; Hal Jordan is a little shit; Needles; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 2,1k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: I imagine the League’s marketing will have a hard time after this little stunt, I mean, there's no way no one caught that on camera

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

The Legion of Doom had a plan. They invaded a political event in Metropolis, with the presence of the Justice League as the president’s security team, the League being the target. First, Poison Ivy release pollen throughout the whole city, as a distraction, making people hallucinate that they were in love with one another. Crazy in love. It would be okay, if her experiment didn't cause chaos. All over the streets, some people were having sex out in the open, some were fighting and killing because of jealousy and cheating, some were committing robberies to give their “loved ones”. It was pure chaos and only the quick reflexes, powers and gadgets from the League spared the team from getting hit.

Half the team went to deal with the distraction, saving and restraining people, giving them the antidote, etc. The other half, took care of the villains. After a few hours, the Legion of Doom was taken down and the city’s security and health workers took over the job, the chaos being a lot easier to contain since they were spreading the antidote through the air, it would take at least an hour to spread it throughout the whole city, and then the ones who somehow weren't able to breath it, but mostly, just the mess left behind was the real issue.

You were standing with the rest of the crew on the event, watching the League and the politicians discoursing for the press and TV. When the mayhem started, for the first few seconds, you got startled and froze. Looking between the League, the scared crowd, and the villains invading the place. Suddenly, you breathed some thick smoke and your eyes shot to the heroes, silently urging them to do something, when your eyes locked on Green Lantern’s, the pollen’s effect kicked in. You got dizzy, something snapped, and then everything changed.

Wait, when did Green Lantern's jaw got so sharp? And his muscles so defined? Oh, and he was so big and tall. Did he do something to his hair? Wow, his ring is glowing now and he's flying. He's so cool and powerful. A true hero. Shit, he's coming in my direction. Hehe, he's using a construct to lift me and my coworkers to a safer place as if it was nothing. Imagine flying with him every day. How does he look without the mask? Ugh, must be perfect, if his jaw and lips were anything to go by. I can't even see the color of his eyes! And- and please stop looking me in the eyes and touching my shoulders and asking me if I'm okay, of course I am, I'm with you. No. Nooo. Come back here! Let the others deal with the bad guys, I'm right hereee! Nooooo!

You were depressed and deflated the whole time your soulmate was away. A journalist team from outside the city arrived at some point and you were able to watch the fight — Normally, Lois Lane would do the transmission, but she's too busy making out with her cameraman, she was in the crowd too. —. You started crying watching your lover fighting with Sinestro. When he won, and everything was fine, was when you finally calmed down and just started anxiously waiting while ignoring your colleagues strange antics, one of them even hitting on you. Didn't she know you and Green Lantern were in love?

When the League was back, the paramedics were starting to give the crew the antidote, you were next in line, however, as soon as you saw the heroes, you broke into a sprint.

— Green! — You yelled, catching everyone off guard. Even more so when you jumped and hooked your legs around the brunette’s waist, your arms around his neck, and kissed him passionately.

Hal was so shocked that it took him two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, ignoring completely the gasps from his friends. You moaned against his lips, mumbling a jumbled mess of “I love you”, “I missed you”, “was so worried”, “so glad you're back”.

Someone groaned.

— Batman, just give them that damn antidote before I lose it. — Batman grunted and Hal struggled but managed to separate your faces for a moment. You tried to push your face towards his again, but he grabbed your jaw. You kept forcing your face against his hand and whining. It was really cute, and your willingness and the previous sensation of your lips ignited something in his belly, yet, he looked to the side just in time to see Batman preparing the needle, the rest of the League sulking on the side and glaring at him.

His mind worked rapidly, ignoring the texture of your soft lips pampering kisses against the skin of his hand. When he felt the tip of your tongue, he made a decision.

A bad one.

— Yeah. I don't think so. — Green Lantern conjured several chain constructs, chaining the League's arms and ankles to the ground. It wouldn't hold off the ones like Superman and Wonder Woman who were strong enough to break it, and Martian Manhunter who could just invade his mind or use his intangibility, Flash was also pretty capable of taking him on, but Hal was smart and sagacious. Still holding you, he made a rocket construct around you both and took off.

Really, a terrible idea.

Superman and Wonder Woman, in a cry of rage, broke the chains. Diana unsheathed her sword, her feet not even touching the ground anymore, flying, ready to go after the traitor. Martian passed through the construct, while Superman went to break Batman and Aquaman free, Flash vibrated fast to rearrange his particles and also escaped.

— We need a plan. — Batman’s voice stopped the amazon warrior from going in a hunt for blood. He was already stressing over what the marketing team could do to fix this.

— A plan? We can defeat the enemy and retreat my darling if we go now! — Wonder Woman barked.

— Green Lantern is impulsive. If we go now we can destroy the whole state and hurt (Y/N) in the process. He won't give them up easily.

— Batman's right. — Superman agreeds. — Flash, follow them and see where they’re going. — The speedster nodded and took off.

Barry shook his head, cursing his idiot best friend the whole way.

Between the whole team, Hal was clearly the only one who would be okay with you falsely loving them. The rest wanted something more genuine for you. Some of them would settle for you not loving them as much as they loved you, some wanted you to feel exactly the same amount of what they felt. Hal still loved you just like them, but he always had that certain level of insecurity that craved to be better than anyone, to impress, making everything a competition, and the sensation of being the only one to have you could certainly cloud his judgment and accept your love, even if fake. He just thought he could compensate by treating you the right way, and not just using that opportunity to do whatever he wanted with you, just because he could and you wouldn't complain. He could make this about you both, and not just about him.

Either way, every one of them (thought) they deserved their fair chance at winning you over.

— Manhunter, can you still read his mind and tell what he is thinking? — Manhunter nodded and his eyes started glowing, there was a second of silence before he spoke.

— It's getting weaker as he gets more distant. It's purely impulsive thinking. Green Lantern isn't considering the consequences and means no harm against Earth or us. — Batman nodds.

— That's a shame. I mean harm. — Wonder Woman mutters, Batman glared and Superman side-eyed her. Batman turned his communication on.

— Flash, tell us when they stop moving.

— If he touches them, I will personally kill him. — Aquaman darkly states. Superman took a step in his direction, facing him head on.

— No, you won't. — The two stared at one another intently, until Batman broke the silence.

— Focus. We don't have time for this. — The dark knight stated.

— We need to be collected and work as a team to act smoothly on our plan. — Martian reminds them. Wonder Woman steps down again and sheats her sword. They all form a circle and start planning.

The sky was never this blue and the sand never this warm and soft. Even with the warmth of the sun being so intense, you were laying on a palm tree's shadow, and the air was flowing just fine. What was actually making you sweat was the dry humping you and your soulmate were doing.

You don't remember ever getting so aroused in your whole life, and can't remember ever desiring someone so much. You could kill someone if they dared to try and steal him away from you.

Hal felt you carding your fingers through his hair and pull slightly, giving him shiver, and he squeezed the flesh of your hips. You moaned against his lips at a particularly stronger wave of pleasure. The clothes were a curse, stopping you from feeling the real him, so you desperately started clawing at his clothes. Green Lantern breathily chuckled.

— Relax, hot stuff, we have time… — He whispers with a smirk. The man held your hands and laid them on the ground, above your head. You just moaned, more needy, and pushed your hips against his, eliciting a hiss from his red and swollen lips.

His hands started unbottoning your shirt and freeing the fabric out of your pants. You kept your hands were they were and watched, eyes wide open, when he descended kisses from the middle of your chest, going south, only pausing at your waistband.

As much as you wanted to feel his mouth more, seeing him so covered and not being able to properly touch him was making you restless, so you sat up, surprising him, and started pulling up the fabric at the back of his neck. Hal chuckled and shook his head, humoring your needs. He helped you take it off, then pushed your own shirt down your arms, until it was off.

You paused, admiring his adonis body. Your heart raced and eyes watered, never having seen something so perfect your whole life. Even his scars were beautiful. His chest hair and happy trail looked really soft and somehow he looked even more muscled, strong and beautiful. You wonder why you rejected him before.

Hal Jordan basked in your amazed gaze, loving to show off, especially while doing nothing. He frowned weakly, and gave a reassuring grin when you pouted, slumped and frowned.

— What's this, sweetheart? I thought you were enjoying this. — To lift your mood, he started running his hands up and down your sides.

— I wanted to see your face… — Hal remained silent for a few seconds. They would tell you their identities eventually, and that fact kept being brought up on reunions. They all knew at some point, you would have to know, to really start a relationship, yet, Batman, and his paranoia, kept them all from telling you. Sometimes, it felt like a sabotage, but mostly, it made sense, since the guy had a bunch of kids, who could be in danger if the information somehow got leaked, still, you couldn't trust to let them in, if they didn't let you in. That was the only reason you didn't trust them, of course.

Also, a face was not a name. Hal wasn't famous, so how bad could it be? Especially if it would turn you on so much, and when you looked so damn cute. His own lust was also influencing his critical thinking, which was already second place to his impulsiveness.

Hal bit his lower lip and brought his face closer to yours, a few centimeters away from having your noses touching.

— Okay… Take it off… — You let out a happy squeal and reached up with both hands. Your heart pounded with anticipation, making you go slower to savor the intimacy even more. Hal closed his eyes when he felt the gentle tug, against his wishes to watch your eagerness and your lip biting in anticipation. His heart was also pounding.

You saw his right eye closed and his thick eyebrow, when suddenly, a loud noise rang out, scaring the shit out of you and prompting Hal to fix the mask again, get up and assess for danger.

He finally fell to his senses and realized something.

He just took the worst decisions ever.

Everything happened too fast. Flash was on your side, holding a needle to your arm, and Green Lantern was being thrown around by a red and blue blur. Only the feminine rageful scream gave you the hint to who it was.

You got up, ready to die for your soulmate, when the antidote kicked in.

You threw up.

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yvvxs · 10 months ago

Text

Words of Affirmation...

‎ ‎↪ ft. argenti. arlan. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. luka. luocha. sampo. sunday. welt.

"You're beautiful." Argenti always tells you. It was true, and he would never lie about that to you. Because he found you beautiful, like a shining star in the sky that will never die out.

"Are you alright?" Arlan would ask, inspecting you for any wounds or injuries you may have had after the fight with the Antimatter Legion. It wasn't an easy task fighting them off, but he would make sure you were unharmed.

"I would wager everything for you." Aventurine would say, looking into your eyes. He cares about you, and he'd bet everything away just for you, your wellbeing, your happiness. He would give up the cornerstone, his IPC background, everything he ever owned just for you.

"Being with you makes living a bit more bearable." Blade admits, crossing his arms stubbornly. But below that facade, was a soft heart for you. Which loved you so dearly.

"Yer worth more than ma bounty." Boothill grins. To him, even a minute of your time, a minute of being in your presence was something more precious than any bounty he's had on his head.

"Let's have some fun!" Caelus says excitedly, pulling you by the wrist as the two of you go around the place, finding fun things to do together. Pranking people, going through trash cans, breaking some laws.

"Take a break if you need one." Dan Heng reminds in the middle of one of your trailblazing expeditions. He would be there to protect you from any possible dangers that would hurt you. He promises that silently.

"You did well." Dr. Ratio praises after the two of you study together. Your brain fried from all the information that you learned. But he made sure to give you a reward after all the work that you've put in.

"Here's a drink for you." Gallagher slides a glass your way, a personalized mix that was suited to your tastes. He remembered how sweet, how thick, and even how strong you liked your drinks. Making one just for you.

"I'll protect you." Gepard spoke, holding his weapon out beside himself. A silent reminder that his shield was there to keep you safe from any harm. And he'd make sure justice was served to those who have hurt you.

"Let's take a nap together." Jing Yuan requests, holding his arms out for you. He was finally done with his pending tasks, and it was time for a well-earned break with his beloved.

"You're pretty strong!" Luka encourages as the two of you train together, even if it's just for fun. He enjoys being with you, and swears you're strong enough to take him down.

"Shall we take a stroll?" Luocha invites you to go around with him. Spending some time together, not having to worry about any other pressing matters that the two of you had.

"Your dear Sampo Koski would never break your heart." He reassures you, making sure that you remembered that always. He would rather let himself get caught by the Guards than let him do that to you, ever.

"Would you like some tea?" Sunday offers, but he's already pouring the first glass for you. He loved you, and he'd make sure you were happy when you were with him.

"I'm proud of you." Welt smiles softly after you fix one of the problems at the current stop the Express was at. He really, really was, and he always will be. He just wanted to remind you of that fact.

↪ Some of them aren't very good at WoA so I'm sorry if this was subpar.

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

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oceandolores · 6 months ago

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ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔦𝔬𝔫 | masterlist.

General Marcus Acacius x f!reader

"Fata viam invenient | The fates will find a way."

summary: In the grandeur of ancient Rome, you are the secret daughter of Commodus, living a quiet life as a servant in the imperial palace. Everything changes when you meet General Marcus Acacius, Rome’s honorable and stoic leader.

Though devoted to duty and loyalty to the princess, Marcus is drawn to you in a way he cannot ignore. A forbidden passion ignites between you both, and an affair begins—one that threatens the very foundation of loyalty, power, and honor. As you fall deeper into your dangerous love for Marcus, each stolen moment becomes a fragile, dangerous secret.

warnings: 18+ only, 14 YEARS AFTER GLADIATOR 1, ANGST, Fluff, A LOT OF SMUT, Unprotected Sex, Exhibition Kink, Age-Gap, Ancient Rome, mentions of violence, Gladiators, Blood, Gore, Politics, Sexism, Forbidden Love, Loss of Virginity, mentions of death, Innocent and pure reader, Infidelity, more warnings will be added throughout the story

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝They call you Rome’s lion, her indomitable shield, yet to me, you are the flicker of warmth in a palace carved from ice.

Your hands are calloused from war, but they cradle my soul with the tenderness of spring rain. Your voice commands legions, yet it whispers my name like a prayer, as though the gods themselves might hear and envy us our stolen moments.

If love were not a sin, I would adorn you with laurel not for conquest, but for the triumph of your heart over mine. Yet here we linger, caught in the webs of empire, where every glance is a rebellion, and every touch a battle lost.

Ad te anhelo, quasi ad caelum ipsam, (I long for you as though for the heavens themselves,) but our stars burn too brightly, and even the gods avert their eyes.

So I am to love you as Rome loves her champions— for eternally.❞

thꫀ ρᥣᥲᥡᥣเ᥉t! (on spotify) 🏛️

in love with marcus acacius

ꪑᥲ᥉tꫀɾᥣเ᥉t!🌞

Chapter I: "in her eyes shone the sweetness of melancholy."

Chapter II: Soon

Chapter III: Soon

Chapter IV: Soon

Chapter V: Soon

Chapter VI: Soon

Chapter VII: Soon

Chapter VIII: Soon

Chapter IX: Soon

Chapter X: Soon

Chapter XI: Soon

Chapter XII: Soon

Chapter XIII: Soon

Chapter XIV: Soon

Chapter XV: Ending

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scoundrellyfeline · 3 months ago

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i might be feeling burned out on my rebatted:33 catalogue (@daily-hs-cat-doodles), but i gotta remember who im fighting for

Nepeta i drew at like 4 am

#yes this is about my side blog #they could never make me hate you nepeta leijon #partly reblogging this just so i can remember to add it to the catalogue later (if op is ok with that ofc)#nepeta #nepeta leijon #theres so much art of her its insane #we all love her #nepeta homestuck #homestuck #homestuck nepeta #proud member of the leijon legion #lejion legion #rebatted:33 masterlist #CATalogue

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lavandulawrites · 1 month ago

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Astralis Desires

Chapter 3: Through His Eyes

Various HSR men x reader

It was rather fun writing the different POV’S. I can’t wait to share more chapters with y’all!

Chapter 1, chapter 2

Synopsis: Two Yanderes have already fallen head over heels for you.

Masterlist

Warnings: yandere, written in the POV of Dan Heng and Welt, Dan Heng is a simp

Word count: 1939

Dan Heng’s POV

Dan Heng had never been in love. He had found actresses, models and women he had met through his travels pretty, but he had never developed feelings for any of them. The idea of love was foreign and something he only allowed himself to think about when he dreamt about a faceless woman at night. He had been lonely since he crawled out of his egg and realised the world still hadn’t forgiven his past self misdeeds. When he had joined the Express Crew, he had gotten friends for the first time, but his loneliness still lingered like a dark shadow. It had him awake at night and it followed him whenever he went.

Dan Heng had read a fair amount of romance novels and mangas in secret and he was filled with longing. He wanted someone special in his life. Someone he could protect and love. He needed someone who could feel the void in his heart.

When he saw you almost gotten torn apart from a beast, he had flung his spear as hard as he could through the creature’s head. His frozen heart had finally started beating and the world colours finally became visible. A unfamiliar feeling filled his chest and overflowed his senses. His icy blue eyes followed your every movement and it felt as if he was going to die if he looked away from you. You were so beautiful it hurt.

“Are you alright?!” March rushed to your side and gave you a quick look over. He swore to himself that if you were hurt, if even so much as a tiny hair on your head had gotten damaged, he would hunt down every single one of the Antimatter Legion’s pets and kill them with his bare hands.

You nodded. “I’m fine” you forced a grateful smile “Thank you for saving me.”

Your voice was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard and he found himself wanting more.

“Oh, don’t thank me! It’s Dan Heng you should thank!” she gestured towards the black haired man. Dan Heng could only stare at you has his heart hammered against his ribs.

“Thank you, Dan Heng. I really owe you one” you said with earnest. God, he was going to die. Your lips uttering his name was the greatest blessing he had ever experienced and he found himself puzzled by his uncharacteristic behaviour.

He nodded with a short movement. “You’re welcome. I only did my job” he tried his best to give a nonchalant response, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“We should get moving!” March waved her hand at you to follow.

You gave them your name and Dan Heng couldn’t help but repeat your name in a mantra. Your name sounded like that of a goddess. One the way to safety, you encountered Arlan. He had gotten injured while fighting the monsters. Every time the boy talked to you, an icy anger formed inside Dan Heng and ran through his veins like poison. His draconic instinct to protect was loud as it tried to take over his mind.

The group of five stopped by a a control room in order to check the surveillance footage. As Dan Heng got past the firewall, he noticed a digital trace of an unwelcome guest. Someone had hacked the system an hour before. The researchers really should upgrade their security. It must have been the Stellaron Hunter that went by the name Silverwolf, he thought to himself. Worry crept over him at the thought of that guy. Surely he wouldn’t be at the space station? It wasn’t his style after all…

“Oh, I forgot to ask you [Name]. Did you see anything suspicious before we came and rescued you?” March asked you. He stilled his movements so he could hear your response.

“I did actually. I met a tall woman with dark pink hair. She was telling me to not get in her way.”

Kafka. Shit. “Sounds like a Stellaron Hunter” Dan Heng said as he resumed his typing.

“A Stellaron Hunter…” your voice was filled with concern.

“Sounds like you saw Kafka. So did Caelus” March replied.

The chair Dan Heng sat on suddenly scraped against the floor in a fast motion. His eyes found yours in a blink of an eye and he wanted to drown in them. “She didn’t do anything to you, right? She didn’t hurt you?” his voice was low as he tried suppress his anger. If the Hunter had harmed you, he would personally make sure she was arrested as soon as possible and punished for her sins.

You instantly shook your head. “No, she didn’t. She left as fast as she came.”

He could feel March eyes on him. He turned to her and was met with a small smirk. He abruptly turned back to the computer.

The sound of feet drumming against the makeshift bridge filled his ears as he ran towards the lift. A cloud of dark mist clouded his vision and a group of monsters appeared through it. The biggest of them reared like a horse and sat its sight in you. You froze beside Dan Heng as the monster lunged for you. Dan Heng’s body was quicker than his mind as he pulled you back by your collar, causing you to lose your footing. His spear blocked the arrow that was sent your way and saved you from your doom. His arms wrapped around you as they prevented your fall. They pulled you closer like a hungry boa and he allowed his nose to be filled with your lovely scent.

“Are you alright?” Dan Heng whispered against your ear. His usually stoic voice was breathy and brimming with a thick mixture of emotions. He could feel your heart beating against his arms. How adorable.

You nodded, your ears bright red. “Yeah, thank you” you whispered back.

He gazed at you for a second, one that felt as it stretched out for eternity, before he snapped back to the monsters.

A mechanical bussing shot down as a drone with razor-like propellers slashed through the beasts. Green blood splattered across the bridge and onto your face. In a blink of an eye he had dragged you across the bridge and into the elevator. As everyone mad e it inside you clutched your stomach. Your skin was pale and your forehead sweaty.

Caelus looked at you with a concerned expression. “Are you good? You look pal-“

He got interrupted by the sound of you spilling out all your lunch on the floor. You mumbled a “I’m so sorry” as you wiped your mouth. Dan Heng wanted to reach out and stroke your back in a comforting manner, but decided against it.

“Never mind hehe…” Caelus scratched neck awkwardly.

March rushed to your side and handed you a mint. “Thanks” you muttered weakly.

The group met up with Himeko and they introduced you and Caelus to her. Dan Heng could tell that she had taken a liking to you and the fact made him happy. As he and the others talked with Asta, he made sure to keep you as close to him as possible. Hopefully you had realised how dangerous the world could be. The good thing was that he could protect you from it, if you let him.

March and Caelus left to talk to the researchers while Dan Zheng and you remained. Himeko and Asta were busy talking to evacuate other’s and left you and him to your own devices you had taken a seat at a Ben h and were twiddling your thumbs as you waited. The action was cute. He had been staring at you for multiple minutes, it he did not care.

“So… Have you guys had any similar experiences?” you broke the silence.

His eyes lit up for a millisecond, before he composed himself. “Yes. Though every journey is different” his word may be few, but his voice was soft.

You nodded “I can imagine. Must be both exciting and scary.”

“Perhaps, though you get used to it” he shrugged. He was silent for a few seconds before he spoke up. “Are you alright? No injuries or something? Even if they’re small you should tell me” a slash of worry distorted his features. If everything were to happen to you he did not know what he might do.

“Im alright” you shook your head. As if you had noticed his raised brow, you added: “No really. I’m fine.”

He left it at that and adverted his gaze to the rest of the space station. Relief flooded his senses and he let out a breath he didn’t know he had held. He decided to ask Himeko if you could join the Express over text. It was obvious to everyone that you weren’t happy working at the space station. If you became a Crew member, he wove able to keep a close eye on you. No harm would ever fall upon you.

Welt Yang’s POV

Welt had lived a long life. He had a lot of different experiences in various areas. He had had a few girlfriends throughout the years and he had loved them. Though he had craved a different type of love, a love that was deep er and more raw. That was not something they could provide to him. He knew love was something that would happen when one least expected it, but he couldn’t help but fantasise about it like a teenager would. It was almost embarrassing how he would longingly look at couples when he was out and about.

When he first saw you hiding behind a vending machine as he neutralised Caelus’s power, a warm fuzzy feeling bloomed in his chest and he knew then and there that he had to make you his.

Welt was standing beside the Express when you and Dan Heng found him. His face lot up at the sight of you and he smiled. “I’m Welt Yang. It’s nice to meet you” he reached out his hand.

“I’m [Name]. It’s nice to met you as well” you shook his hand. Your hand was soft and small compared to his big hand. He didn’t want to let go, but it would be rude to hold your hand any longer.

“I have spoken with Himeko and she invited you to stay on the Express. If you want to, naturally” Dan Heng had asked Himeko if you could stay on the Express, but that was a detail you didn’t need to know. He glanced at Dan Heng as the black haired man nodded in gratitude.

Your eyes widened at his words. “Oh wow.. I hadn’t expected that. Well- I would need to resign from my job and all that. And I would need to bring my stuff- if that’s okay of course” you rambled.

Welt bit his tongue in order to silence his laugh. Your rambling was rather cute. “We can help you” he suggested.

“I would appreciate that” you smiled and his heart skipped a beat. You were like a burning star that brightened up his life.

“Alright, then. I would like to join the Express” you said determined after a short while of silence.

Welt looked at Dan Heng as the two men seemed to come to a silent understanding. From a Yandere to another, it was easy for them to see th effect you had on them. Welt had never imagined to share a Darling, but he didn’t mind sharing you with Dan Heng. Two Yanderes made the chance of any harm happening to you smaller.

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bvrnesher · 3 months ago

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𝝑𓏲 — ¡! Valentine's mornings

tap here for chb masterlist ! here for reqs info

warnings: making out ! everything is very sweet actually

ㅤ୨ৎ —˳ jason grace ! fem. reader

summary: Jason is nervous as hell! He just wants to give you the best Valentine's Day ever !!!

𝗝𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 pressure. He’d led battles, commanded legions, and nearly died more times than he cared to count. But nothing—nothing—compared to the sheer panic of trying to make your Valentine’s Day perfect.

Which was stupid. You’d had way too many Valentine’s Days together.

And Jason knew it was stupid. You’d been living together for two years now. He knew exactly how you took your coffee, that you always stole the blankets in your sleep, the way your face definitely wasn’t subtle whenever he took off his shirt in the mornings.

And yet, here he was, stress-cleaning the kitchen counter for the fifth time, triple-checking his plans for the day.

Breakfast? Cooking was too risky in his current state, so he had gotten up early to pick it up from your favorite café. Flowers? Your favorites, fresh and perfectly arranged on the table. Gifts? Hidden in the closet, waiting for the perfect moment. Dinner reservation? Your go-to place, triple confirmed.

He took a deep breath. Everything was fine. He was fine.

"Dude," Jason muttered, gripping the back of a chair. "Get it together."

That’s when he heard your sleepy voice from the doorway, followed by a yawn.

"Who are you talking to?" you asked, rubbing your eyes as you walked into the kitchen.

He spun around so fast he nearly tripped.

"No one," he blurted, trying—and failing—to look casual.

His heart did a weird little flip when he saw you standing there in nothing but one of his old shirts—way too big on you, by the way—and a pair of white underwear. Sleepy eyes, messy hair, looking way too good for someone who had just woken up.

You gave him a once-over.

"You’re stressed," you stated. Not a question.

"What? Me? No," Jason denied immediately, crossing his arms. Then uncrossing them. Clearing his throat. Rubbing the back of his neck.

Your gaze flicked to the table, the coffee cup trembling slightly in his hands, the way his jaw was clenched like he was bracing for a fight. You stepped closer, resting your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat going way too fast.

"Jase." You looked up at him, biting back a smile. "You do know we’ve been together for years, right?"

"Yeah."

"You don’t have to impress me."

"…I know."

A pause. Then—

"What if I want to?"

"Wait—do I smell coffee?" you interrupted, wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in the soft wool of his sweater.

He let out a breath, relaxing slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"I got you breakfast," he murmured, his voice low and content.

"Did you burn the first one?" you teased, grinning against his chest.

He huffed, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

"Har har," he said, rolling his eyes fondly. "Hilarious."

You laughed, and his chest felt a little lighter.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, love," he said softly.

You smiled, letting go of his waist only to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a slow, lingering kiss.

Jason melted into it instantly, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer in a way that was far too natural by now.

The kiss was slow, warm, easy.

Like all of Jason’s kisses.

Jason’s heart sped up, but his shoulders relaxed. Having you this close in the morning, just standing there in the kitchen with the city noise outside... Gods, saying Jason loved you didn’t even come close to covering it.

His hands slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, needing the warmth of your presence.

You gently pulled back, just enough to speak. "You don’t have to impress me, seriously." You said, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I already am."

Jason chuckled softly, the sound deep and warm in his chest. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, still feeling the weight of the day ahead. "I want it to be perfect, though. It’s you."

Your gaze softened, and without responding, you tugged him back to you, sealing your lips in a slow, gentle kiss, pulling him closer.

His hand tangled in your hair, massaging your scalp in that soft, slow way you loved. Jason bit your lower lip gently, pulling a quiet gasp from you.

He wasted no time, slipping his tongue into the warmth of your mouth, deepening the kiss, guiding you back until your lower back hit the counter. He pressed his free hand to the edge of the counter to keep you steady, holding you against him.

The kiss turned more urgent, your hands sliding over his chest, shoulders, and arms, pulling him tighter to you, not letting him go. A low groan escaped him when your hand slipped under his sweater, your fingers sending shivers down his spine.

His stomach tightened under your delicate touch, the feeling leaving behind a heat that made him feel like he was burning.

Both of Jason’s hands found the hem of your—his—shirt, sliding under it to feel the soft skin of your waist. His thumbs made slow, lazy circles.

"Can’t help it," he murmured softly against your lips, "you’re just... too distracting."

You smiled, a quiet laugh slipping from your lips. "Now I really want you to impress me..." You whispered, biting his lower lip and tugging lightly.

Shit.

Jason felt the heat building in all the wrong places for this time of morning, the bulge under his sweatpants starting to form just from that small action. His chest tightened at your teasing, at the way you touched him, at the way your body was pressed against his with him pinning you to the counter.

"Maybe I do," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, searching for something, trying to find any sign that you were just messing with him.

But there was no doubt, not even a hint that you were just teasing him.

Without another word, he kissed you again, one of his hands left your shirt to slide further up, finding the curve of one of your breasts. He cupped it in his hand, squeezing and massaging with a gentleness that was only worthy of Jason Fucking Gentleman Grace.

You gasped under his touch, your nipples hardening against the coolness of his hands.

"Jase..." you managed to say his nickname, only to feel his lips leave yours in search of more skin to worship.

"So soft..." He murmured softly, lowering his lips to your jaw line, trailing down your neck with open-mouthed kisses. Then, finally finding that spot that always shorted you out.

He took your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a gentle pinch that elicited a moan that made Jason's skin crawl. He didn't even bother trying to hide his own desire.

Jason felt his cock growing uncomfortably hard under his sweatpants. Reaching down, his hand found the waistband of your panties, teasingly tugging them down.

Jason stopped just to grab your hips, trying to keep you in place as he thrusted his hips into yours, looking for some short of friction that you might could provide.

Your breath hitched, feeling him press his boner against you while he pressed soft kisses against your skin.

"Happy Valentine's Day to you, too." You whispered.

"I love you," He murmured against your neck, biting softly.

Jason nervouses were forgotten a long while ago. You were perfect in his arms, and that's all that mattered for him right now.

Plus, he wasn't going to think about anything other than making love to you for the next couple hours, that's for sure.

#NOTE: Babes, This is the first time I've written something like this, and it's not even good TT. Plus, I just wrote it and it's 3am, I'm sleepy. I swear I'll write something better when my eyes aren't closing!

𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐, 𝒔.

#bvrnesher #‧₊˚✧ s. posting !#pjo fandom #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace smut #jason grace x reader #riordanverse #riordanverse x reader #pjo x reader #pjo hoo toa #percy jackon and the olympians

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andy-15-07 · 5 months ago

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Reunion of love

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader Word Count: 1335 warnings: a little smut Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The night was calm, a rare blessing amidst the chaos of war. The air carried the gentle hum of cicadas and the faint, fragrant aroma of blooming jasmine. The garden, bathed in moonlight, glowed with an ethereal radiance. Amidst the neatly trimmed hedges and the scattered marble statues, Y/N lingered in quiet contemplation, her thoughts a mix of longing and relief.

General Marcus Acacius, her husband, had been away for months, leading the legions of Rome in battle. News of his victories had reached her weeks ago, yet the uncertainty of war always lingered in her heart. Tonight, however, there was a strange anticipation in the air, a tug in her spirit that refused to let her retire to their chambers.

She wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and gazed at the night sky, the constellations shining like scattered diamonds. A soft rustle came from the shadows behind her. Y/N turned sharply, her heart skipping a beat.

“Who goes there?” she called, her voice steady but wary.

From the shadows emerged a figure she would recognize anywhere. Marcus stood tall, his armor glinting faintly in the moonlight, his face rugged and worn yet undeniably handsome. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and the shadow of a beard framed his chiseled jawline. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who had faced death and emerged victorious, but his eyes softened the moment they met hers.

“Did I frighten you, my love?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

Y/N’s breath hitched. For a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Then, as the realization sank in, she rushed toward him, her shawl slipping from her shoulders. Marcus opened his arms, and she threw herself into his embrace, the weight of months of separation dissolving in an instant.

“Marcus,” she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. “You’re home.”

“I am,” he murmured, holding her tightly. “And I intend never to leave your side again, not unless duty demands it.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands resting on his chest. “You’re safe?” Her eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of injury.

“I am,” he assured her. “The gods have seen fit to bring me back to you in one piece.”

Y/N smiled, though tears glistened in her eyes. “The gods must favor me, then.”

Marcus cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “No, my love. They favor me, for they have given me you.”

She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment to savor the warmth of his hands. When she opened them, her smile had deepened, and her voice was playful. “You should have sent word of your arrival. I would have prepared a feast fit for the victor of Rome.”

“And miss the chance to surprise you?” he teased. “Never.”

He bent his head and kissed her, a kiss that spoke of longing, love, and promises unspoken. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them under the watchful gaze of the stars.

When they finally parted, Y/N took his hand and led him to a stone bench near the fountain. They sat together, the cool night air wrapping around them like a gentle embrace.

“Tell me,” she said softly. “Tell me everything. How was the campaign? How do you fare?”

Marcus hesitated for a moment, then began to speak. He recounted the battles he had fought, the strategies that had brought victory, and the lives lost along the way. His voice was steady, but there was a weight to his words, a heaviness that spoke of the toll war had taken on him.

Y/N listened intently, her hand never leaving his. When he finished, she squeezed his hand and said, “You carry the burden of Rome, but you need not carry it alone. You have me, Marcus. Always.”

He looked at her, his eyes filled with gratitude. “I know,” he said. “And it is your love that gives me strength.”

They sat in silence for a while, the sound of the fountain mingling with the whispers of the night. Then, Marcus stood and held out his hand.

“Come,” he said. “Let us not waste this night. I have been away from you for far too long.”

Y/N took his hand, her heart fluttering. He led her through the garden, their footsteps light on the cobblestone paths. They paused by a marble pavilion, its columns entwined with ivy. There, under the canopy of the heavens, Marcus pulled her into his arms once more.

“I dreamt of this moment,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “Of holding you, of hearing your voice, of seeing your smile. The battlefield is no place for dreams, but you were my constant solace.”

Y/N placed a hand on his cheek, her touch tender. “And you were mine,” she replied. “Every day, I prayed for your safe return. Now that you’re here, it feels as if the world has righted itself.”

They shared another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate, a melding of souls that spoke of their unbreakable bond. His hands roamed her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The intensity of the moment made her gasp softly against his lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, his tongue exploring hers with a hunger born of months of yearning.

“Marcus,” she whispered when they finally broke apart, her cheeks flushed and her breath shallow. “Take me somewhere we won’t be disturbed.”

He needed no further invitation. Without a word, he swept her into his arms, carrying her through the garden toward their chambers. Her laughter, soft and melodic, mingled with the rustle of leaves as he quickened his pace.

Once inside, the door closed behind them with a quiet thud, sealing them in a world of their own. Marcus set her down gently, his eyes roaming her form with a gaze so heated it made her shiver. He began to unfasten his armor, the clang of metal filling the room as piece by piece fell away, revealing the powerful physique beneath. His scars told stories of battles fought, but to Y/N, they only made him more captivating.

She stepped closer, her hands moving to help him, her fingers brushing against his skin. “You’re more beautiful than I remember,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

He caught her hands and brought them to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “And you, my love, have haunted my every thought.”

Their movements became slower, more deliberate, as they undressed each other. Each touch, each kiss, was a rediscovery, a celebration of their love. When they finally came together, it was with an intensity that left no room for doubt or hesitation. His hands explored her curves reverently, his lips worshipping every inch of her skin. She responded in kind, her touch igniting flames wherever it lingered, her whispered declarations of love weaving into the heady atmosphere of their union.

They moved together in perfect harmony, a dance as old as time, their passion building to a crescendo that left them both trembling. Marcus held her tightly as they reached the peak of their love, his whispered praises and endearments filling her ears.

When the storm finally subsided, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts beating as one. Marcus brushed a strand of hair from her face and gazed down at her with an intensity that made her heart ache.

“You are my everything, Y/N,” he murmured. “My reason for fighting, my reason for living. I am nothing without you.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she cupped his cheek. “And you are mine, Marcus. You’ve always been mine.”

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, they remained entwined, their love a sanctuary against the trials of the world. For this moment, they were free, and nothing else mattered but the bond they shared.

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amarmoria · 5 months ago

Text

Love and Legion

Summary: 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 adopted you almost 14 years ago, after a catastrophic invasion of your country from the two tyrannic Twin Emperors of Rome, only just two years after sending her son away, she can't help but feel pity and guilt at a little child who was just a years younger than her son should've been right now and in an indisputable argument with some of the senators, she successfully stole you away from the hands of your unknown parents.

Lucilla meets her beloved husband and courageous General, 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 many years later, and marries him in hopes of finding protection and love she once seeked in another-- and she did of course. Only a few years later when tensions began brewing between you and your beloved 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, a tension that should not and should've never existed in the first place.

And even more chaos prevails when 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐, a Gladiator brought by the war catches your mother's undivided attention. You don't know why she's so interested in some vicious gladiator until you confronted him to cure the growing dislike h̶a̶t̶r̶e̶d̶ you have towards him.

𝑨 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 '𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐' 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝐹𝑖𝑐

➪ 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘺.

➪ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝙁𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡, 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

➪ 𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 1 𝘢𝘯𝘥 2.

➪ 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴.

Series Masterlist

You don't know why you remember so little from before. You recall only Lucilla, your now adoptive mother, cradling you back to her tent, washing off the dirt and grime from you in her tub, you remember feeling like you forgot something, not like you can remember everything you did when you were 5, only a glimpse of your faceless 'parents'.

You remember a big argument from the outside, you heard voices yelling and squabbling, one which belonged to your mother while her maids tended to your food and clothes. You remember her looking so tired but pleased after an hour of arguing.

Then she proceeded to help you with your hair, twisting and braiding and vice versa as she hummed that beautiful song she sang to you every single night after that.

"You're an Aurelius now. My daughter. My Carissima"

Then just several years later, you were standing in mere spaces behind your mother, and her groom, General Marcus Aurelius, feared but not feared, the one who leads rome's army to victory every time.

You were wearing a dress, an exact copy of your mother's. Your attire mirrored almost every detail of hers, a reflection of your bond. While your mother's dress was woven from fine, unblemished white wool, and tied with the intricate Knot of Hercules, yours was simpler, its fabric softened and unadorned, lacking the symbolic complexity but retaining the elegance.

Your hair, though styled in the same six braids as your mother’s, was left without the ornate pins and embellishments that crowned the bride.

Instead of the full flammeum that veiled your mother, you wore a delicate orange scarf that draped lightly over your shoulders, the hue a faint echo of your mother’s fiery veil. A small garland of fresh flowers circled your head, a token of your innocence and role as a silent witness to the sacred union.

You held your breath during the whole ceremony, even as your mother said those words that would finally hammer the nail.

"Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia"

'Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia'

Despite your initial resistance over having a new father— step-father, you can't deny your mother her love, because one day you'll have to find one yourself, and marry him and move in with him and leave your mother alone. But now she has her spouse, her husband, you're not sure if you're relieved or worried.

The day after the occasion you moved into his mansion, and to your surprise he had you made a room of yourself, not that you had one at home, you didn't really know him, or talk to him, but he went out of his way to carve you a space in his home, maybe that earned him point to you.

You jumped out behind your mother's back and ran around the spacious chamber, almost forgetting they were there. You hastily got on the bed that looked almost too tall to be one and bounced and bounced, even your bed at home didn't make you bounce this high.

Out the corner of your eye you see Acacius approaching the foot of the bed, his arms crossed each other as his smile widens impossibly big, he didn't have that much grey hair then, but he looked very young and joyful, you see your mother just farther behind him at the doorframe admiring the both of you.

You knew it was then she wanted both of you to get along, and you love your mother so much you didn't want to disappoint her. Your initial impression of him was questionable, the first thing that came up your mind was that he was evil, and he'd lock you down the dungeon and torture you like those step-parent books you read, and one that caught your eye was the story of Rhodopis.

And just moments later you bounced to him and jumped, you snorted at the face he made when you landed on him, your hands coiled around his neck, going in for a hug.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You heard him laugh above you as his arms circle around your back, trapping you in a hug.

You shivered involuntarily as his fingers ghost the skin of your back. Maybe that's where it started? Everything that went on then as the years came by, you didn't draw attention to it, just pondering and pondering what it was.

Then years later you're here, standing beside your mother as she held a small white cloth to her tear stained eyes, a lavender in her other hand occupying her nose to cancel out the foul smell of Rome, you sneezed a second time, does Rome even know how to bathe?

Your thoughts were stolen away when you heard Acacius's heavy boots approaching. He was wearing this dazzling bright red cape with intricate gold embroidery in the edges, it was clasped together with a gold plated pendant. His heavy black armor designed with Medusa's head at front with gold clicked expensively as he nears the two of you, you notice how gold was also lined on the edges of his armour a big sign that he is a general.

You wonder if this time they were going to a bigger country, seeing how many battalions Acacius had behind him, they were boarding the ship one by one and the others were carrying the boxes loaded with weapons.

He didn't wear his helm yet so his curls bounced as he halted in front of you. And even if your mother was already hugging him, it felt as though his eyes were still on you, you fiddled with your dress while looking down, opting to stare at the interesting floor than look into his rounded brown gaze.

You thought he'd leave then, after bidding your mother and you goodbye, but he paused as your mother seperated from him, busy wiping her tears and refilling her lavender, you hear him laugh, his chest rumbling in the armour, his knees slightly crouch to your view, but you don't budge as you avoid his eyes still.

He suddenly reached out, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your jaw with surprising gentleness. Slowly, he lifted your chin, coaxing you to meet his gaze. The motion was subtle but deliberate, his touch firm yet tender as it guided your face upward.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flickering to his lips, before your gaze finally rose to meet his. The world around them seemed to fade as his eyes locked with yours, an unspoken tension thickening the air between you and him.

"A-acacius—"

"Won't you bid me goodbye, amor?" He whispered a breath, his voice soft and low as his head tilts to the side, almost like teasing you.

"I-I was. But I wanted mother to go first." You murmured, practically embarrassed he even noticed.

"I shall be away for a good while," He clears his throat, straightening his attire.

You nod, fiddling with your dress yet again. "How long?"

"I've no certain count, but I'll be back," he paused, smiling warmly. "And quick."

You return his smile, laughing gently. "Of course you are, you're the invinsible general,"

"Oh? Am i now?"

"Yes, you are, don't try to humble it." Your smile grows wider as he laughs. "I don't think I understand what you're saying, Amor."

You roll your eyes, folding your arms over your chest. "Don't fool me, old man"

"You're calling me old now?"

"Aren't you?"

He was about to retort a comeback when you mother strided to where you were.

"Safe travels, my love," she sighs. "We will pray for you,"

"I will, Caro" he leans down to take her hand, kissing the bones of her knuckles. And for a split second you see him look to your direction "I will."

𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕

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bridgetotheskyyy · 7 months ago

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Yuta; Public Sex

a/n: yuta and reader fuck in paris that's it lmaooo. 18+ only. Est relationship, reader's a horn dog lmaoo. wc 1.1k

Kinktober Masterlist

“Surprise!”

You whipped your head around, the voice familiar — too familiar — to be ignored.

“Yuta?”

Yuta’s smile lit up the Parisian night as you gawked at his mere presence. “Well, surprised?”

You flung into his arms with a squeal, becoming a spectacle for the people who breezed past the two of you on the sidewalk. “How did you manage to get here?”

Yuta explained, but you barely heard. It was just supposed to be a brief interlude in his time in Africa. It took Miguel some convincing. Yuta thought it’d be nice, romantic. Blah blah. You were too happy to care.

“Maybe we should find a hotel,” Yuta said, grazing an adoring finger over your cheek. “So we can catch up?”

You smiled, deviancy overcoming reason as you pulled Yuta by his sleeve into an unbusied alleyway, unbothered by the legions of people leaving the party you’d just attended.

“Hm?” Yuta blinked. “He — Hey! What are you doing?”

You licked your lips, the months gone without seeing Yuta beginning to dawn on you as your eyes swept over his frame. “Why wait?”

Your meaning registered and Yuta’s face ran red. He glanced back at the sidewalk, the car seated on the narrow street. “But — but —“

“Don’t be such a worry-wart.” You knew the location was odd, but it was thrilling, the danger adrenalizing you

“It’s not that I’m not intrigued,” Yuta said, and you had to suppress a holler of delight. Yuta was just as kinky as you were, if not more. You wouldn’t be surprised to reach down and find a growing bulge tenting his pants at the thought.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about taking me in public,” You said. “C’mon.” Yuta sucked in a breath as you pressed against him, dangling your lips dangerously close to his. “Yu-Yu. For me?”

Yuta’s eyes darkened at the pet name. Bingo.

Nice. Romantic. And apparently it was, because the next thing you knew Yuta had you pressed against the wall, hard body keeping you suppressed there while he humped his impressive tent into the valley of your thighs.

“Missed you,” he rasped. “Missed you so much …”

You left wet, lingering kisses on the gorgeous column of his neck. “I know …” Yuta let out a moan when you ran your flat tongue across his Adam's apple, withdrawing only to attack his throat with teeth. “I missed you, too.”

“Say it again,” he begged, a hand cupping your ass, groping the soft flesh there. His previous compunctions about being seen — or heard — seemingly abandoned as his hips bruisingly buck into yours. “Say it again, please.”

You sunk your hand into his sweatpants, fishing for the perfect cock that was rightfully yours. “Yu-Yu …”

Yuta rewarded you with a moan, another harsh buck into your hand.

Your fingertips grazed his ballsack, the gesture positively come-hither, and you felt Yuta shiver around you. How easy it was to make him come apart. How you loved him.

“You’re so cute, Yu-Yu.” You brushed a finger against his cockhead. “Want me to jerk you off, make you come right here?” You asked before nibbling into his neck, stroking the cock viced in your palm.

“No …” Yuta moaned out, lurched over you, hands pressed into the brick of the wall as he rutted into you. He was a good foot taller than you; his presence overwhelming. “Wanna come inside you — please — nrgh —“

Despite the begging, Yuta reached under your skirt and pushed your panties aside, bathing his fingers in the wet of your folds.

“Na — haa! Yuta!”

“So wet already,” Yuta rocked into your trembling hand. “And yet I’ve hardly done anything …”

You released his cock, doing what you could to suppress your writhing. You pulled his trousers and boxers around his thighs. You squeezed his forearm between your thighs to try and stop him. It wouldn’t do for his long, talented hands to play with your pussy. He wasn’t alone. You didn’t want to come until he was inside you, until he was the one to do it.

Yuta kissed you. You sighed, running your tongue over his. All the while too distracted to detect Yuta gripping his cock — until you felt his cockhead circle your tight hole.

“Mmf!”

Yuta buried himself inside you. Your head thudded against the wall as you took his huge cock. Yuta groped at your breast through your flimsy cami, fondling the tit while he thrust into you. All before growing tired of the distance between his hand and your skin and tugging your top down. Thankfully braless, his hand married with your tit again, trapping a nipple between two fingers.

You squealed when he bottomed out. “Oh, fuck.” This was undoubtedly your favorite part about bringing Yuta to his limits. His aggressive thrusts never failed to take you by surprise. For such a demure gentleman, he had no problem bullying your pussy like this — his cockhead knocking into your cervix as though intent to drill itself through. Or maybe it was the desperation grown out of distance that made him so particularly feral this time.

“So good …” Pants nearly pooled around Yuta’s ankles, his hips snapped into you, again and again. You saw him gaze down a second before his hand drifted south to tease your clit. “So good …”

You were delirious, back smacking into the wall with each powerful thrust.

“Fu — fuck!” You grabbed hold of Yuta’s shoulders at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Yuta — I — someone’s coming —“

“I don’t care,” Yuta replied, husky admission a brief interlude from the kisses he left on your skin. It was worthless to attempt to warn him anyway; if he was willing to fuck you this ferociously knowing he could be seen then the prospect of being seen would only spur him on farther. Yuta hiked your leg leg up over his shoulder to pound you more efficiently. “Let them see. You’re so beautiful …” Yuta’s words blew heated and hurried in your ear. “You’re mine …”

You let out a moan, too loud for comfort. Yuta’s tight circles over your clit, combined with the unrelenting bullying of his cock inside you, kept the meat of your attention. Even as a group of people passed by in your periphery, you only closed your eyes, hands running over your boyfriend’s back as he brought you closer to the edge.

Yuta’s drawn-out groan, how he buried his face in your neck, was how you knew he had come to his end. Knowing Yuta was painting your walls white with his spent, still fucking you through his own orgasm, using you, was enough to send you coming along with him. His mouth came over yours before a harpy-esque scream could escape. You clenched down around him, the pleasure centered in your clit painful.

Yuta slumped against you. You were sure your embrace around him was the only thing keeping him vertical.

“I guess this is the story,” You began breathlessly, petting his raven-black hair, “of how my boyfriend was okay with us getting banned from visiting Paris ever again.”

“Hm …” Yuta kept you hanging for a proper reply for some time. Then: “Maybe.”

You snorted as he withdrew to give you space to rearrange your clothing. “If they catch us.”

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #yuta smut #yuuta smut #yuta x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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the-fiction-witch · 7 months ago

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The Masterlist of Masterlists

House of the Dragon Characters :

Aegon Targaryen - LINK Areon Bracken - LINK Cregan Stark - LINK Davos Blackwood - LINK Daemon Targaryen - LINK Gwayne Hightower - LINK Jacaerys (Jace) Velaryon - LINK Lucerys (Luke) Velaryon - LINK Oscar Tully - LINK

Thomas Brodie Sangster Characters :

Adam Douglas (Lewis The Mind Has Mountains) - LINK Benny Watts (The Queens Gambit) - LINK No.1 & LINK No.2 Casey (Some Dogs Bite) - LINK Donald (Death Of A Superhero) - LINK Jack Dawkins (The Artful Dodger) - LINK No.1 & LINK No.2 & Mrs Dawkins Series Jake Murry (Accused) - LINK Jojen Reed (Game Of Thrones) - LINK Lampwick (Pinnochio) - LINK Malcolm Mclaren (Pistol) - LINK Newt (The Maze Runner) - LINK Nigel (Orbit Ever After) - LINK Paul McCartney (Nowhere Boy) - LINK Rafe Sadler (Wolf Hall) - LINK Romulus Augustus (The Last Legion) - LINK Samuel Brawne (Bright Star) - LINK Samuel Emmerson (My Left Hand Man / Phantom Halo) - LINK Sam (Love Actually) - LINK Simon Brown (Nanny McPhee) - LINK Thannisson (Star Wars Force Awakens) - LINK Timothy Latimer (Doctor Who) - LINK Whitey Winn (Godless) - LINK No.1 & LINK No.2

Finn Wolfhard Characters : Trevor Spengler (Ghostbusters) - LINK Mike Wheeler (Stranger Things) - Coming Soon

Matt Smith Characters :

The 11th Doctor (Doctor Who) - LINK Daemon Targaryen (House Of The Dragon) - LINK Lucien / Milo Crown (Morbius)- LINK

Tom Holland Characters :

Gregory Cromwell (Wolf Hall) - LINK Nathan Drake (Uncharted) - LINK Peter Parker (MCU SpiderMan) - LINK

Eugene Simon Characters :

Jerome Clarke (House Of Anubis) - LINK Lancel Lannister (Game Of Thrones) - LINK

Isaac Hempstead Wright Characters :

Isaac Hempstead Wright - LINK Brandon Stark - LINK

Asa Butterfield Characters : Jacob Portman (MPHFPC) - LINK Willoughby Blake (Slaughter House Rulez) - LINK Otis Millburn (Sex Education) - LINK

Others :

Elrond (Rings of Power) - LINK

Viserys Targaryen (Game Of Thrones) - LINK

Anthony Lockwood (Lockwood & Co.) - LINK

Albert Atreides (Dune Prophecy) - LINK

Telemachus (EPIC The Musical) - LINK

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readychilledwine · 8 months ago

Text

Peace in the Violence

Eris Week - Day 5 - War and Adventure

Summary - When the battle for Autumn doesn't end by your one year anniversary, Eris has no choice but to share one more night with you during the heat of war

Warnings - war, mentions of death, smut, using sex as a coping mechanism

A/N - I will be completely honest, I was most excited for this prompt for @erisweekofficial, and I almost was not going to partake this day until this happened. She is only a little thing, but I do love her and her potential.

So many people bash on the sex scenes on ACOWAR, but I don't think they see the bigger picture with them. Those scenes are meant to remind you of what the characters are fighting for. The sex is meant to be symbolic of so much more than sex. SJM, in my opinion, can not properly execute a smut scene during war. Hopefully, I conveyed what I feel those scenes are supposed to represent with this.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

A rough roll of his hips had you gasping as Eris began to lose his gentleness. He was desperate to feel anything besides the looming fear of the battle that was coming. Eris was a skilled warrior, a natural fighter, and had been preparing his whole life for this, but the efforts to dethrone his father were making him question everything.

The war in Autumn had left far too many wounded and more dead. What was supposed to be a simple siege of the Forest House was now more. It was Beron with a legion protecting him. Eris with 6 High Lords in a tent waiting to call their armies. It was Beron refusing the blood duel while Eris put all of his magic into containing battle to just the area they were in to protect the fae of this court. His fae. His court.

You gasped below him before a strangled cry of pleasure tried to leave your throat. It was as if Eris couldn't hear you below him, like he was using all of his tricks to drive more noises from swollen lips. “Eris,” it was a broken call of his name, trying to pull him back to you. To remind him you were the one below him.

His wife. His mate. His love. The one he had set this very fire for.

His eyes met yours and he slowed before forcing you both to roll over, silent admission he could not be in control tonight. He wanted to laugh. One year. One year of marriage spent in bliss, and it was bliss he hoped to seek in this moment of peace you two shared.

Hands. Hands touching your thighs, your hips, your back. Hands roaming every inch of you. Desperate. Aching. Yearning. This wasn't the trip he had planned for your anniversary, but war waits for no male.

When you began to move slowly, he couldn't stop the whimper that fell through his throat.

He was seeking sex.

You had been seeking to make love.

Every bounce was at the pace he was hungry for, his hands settling on your hips to help guide you. You leaned down to kiss him, hands on his chest as he began to meet your movements, pace slowed to savor this instead of rushing.

There were no promises of this happening again, no guarantee that after battle tomorrow your husband would be in bed.

But you had tonight.

You had now.

“I love you,” the words left his mouth in a hushed tone. He needed to say them, to whisper them until his voice and words were etched in your bones.

Eris knew as he was making love to you, as he cherished you on his night, that tomorrow he may die. He knew he was the target in these battles. Not his brothers who so bravely came to his side. Not the soldiers he had been recruiting in secret. Him.

And tomorrow, before you woke up, Rhysand will have taken you to Velaris, hiding you from Beron if Eris will to fail. His mother was already there. His hounds. His wife belonged there too, safe, beautiful untouched.

He memorized every inch of you as you leaned back, pace increasing to give him what he was desperate for. He memorized every freckle, curve, the exact shade of your lips and eyes.

He memorized the noise you made as his thumb brushed your clit, the way your body seemed to shake before you could continue.

He memorized your face as you fell apart for him, forcing his own body to hold back to listen to every note in the song you began to sing.

And when he finally tumbled over the edge, you memorized his soft cry.

This wasn't how Eris planned to spent your anniversary, handing Rhysand your things as you slept clueless to what was happen. This wasn't what he wanted as he kissed you for what could have been the last time. It wasn't all he needed to say as he whispered he loved you again.

His world shifted as Rhysand winnowed your sleeping form to Velaris and he began to pull on the dark illyrian leathers he had borrowed, Azriel waiting in tow, watching Eris prepare to assassinate his father in his sleep.

Risky, unhanded, and cheap.

But war waits for no man.

Not even in his sleep.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

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bleedingichorhearts · 14 days ago

Note

Ideally open to who this tickles your fancy on! But!

There are ways to purposely woo someone- apparel, posing, pictures, texts, etc. What about something you do without realizing that drives them wild? Could be mundane, could be situational, could be a meal, could be a gesture! Anything goes!

“Oh? How sweet. I shall make a lil head cannon for all of them. I kept going in and out of this one.😭” - Ichor

Summary - “What drives the Emperor & Primarchs wild about you? More so what they like about you.”

TW // Not of Lore Cuteness?

||Masterlist Is Pinned Post||

The Emperor; “Revelation:”

Tricky man god this one is, for he has lived and see anything and everything. His emotions going cold and unreadable with time, and so does his preferences. However, I do think he would find the humaneness of you… “adoring.” Perhaps your refusal of him too. It just.. reminds him.

Lion El’Johnson; “The First:”

He likes the mere way you move. Something about it… excites him. Either with grace or not he still feels like it’s *cough* *cough* “admirable.” Well, not the times where you trip over thin air, but he somehow finds that… “cute,” he dares to think. Will he tell you? No, will you know? Yes, because the bastard comments about how frail you are when you trip. (P.S. Don’t ever call him a bastard.)

Fulgrim; “The Phoenician:”

This Demi-god will love anything about what you do or what you look like. Ain’t nothing stopping him from spewing any positive, teasing words. You, the whole being of you, is his wild card. Just seeing you excites him; and either it would be romantic or the Daemon Prince of him. You are his heart. You work him to his admiration.

Perturabo; “Lord of Iron:”

Messing with his tools. Something about you being curious of what he crafts with pleases him. His eyes watching as you observe them and then questioning him about them. That you take an interest in his work, or well, what makes his work. It feels nice.

Jaghatai Khan; “The Warhawk:”

Riding with him on his bike. He honestly likes when you suggest to ride with him, even if it’s short or not. He likes the little feeling of warmth of your body against him, letting the wind speak between the two of you. It as if he isn’t truly alone…

Leman Russ; “The Wolf King:”

Hunting with him and his sons! It’s very thrilling and exciting for him! Well, not much for you, but still! He enjoys to have your presence around him, if you’re watching him or not, but if you do hunt with him. He likes your skill on putting down a kill. It also gives this wolf man an excuse to show off. ;)

Rogal Dorn; “Praetorian of Terra:”

When you overlook the building plans. He feels very pleased when you look them over and reject them or accept them. Never judging you when you rejected them for it means something can be better within the blueprints. He never thinks that you wouldn’t necessarily dislike them for he is a good man of taste.☕️

Konrad Cruze; “Dark King:”

Just being in his presence while he just… stares you down. Trying to think of why you look at him like that, like he means something to you, and not in the bad way either. I drives his mind to figure you out more… He concludes that he finds you… memorizing when your heart beats a bit faster than necessary.

Sanguinius; “The Angel:”

The way you seem to trust him and his legion despite the horrors it brings. He has a keen eye for what people like and dislike, and his legion is… part of it. He knows baselines; enemies do not like “vampires,” but you honestly don’t seem to mind and that makes his heart’s flutter. You do not judge them for their beauty or the blood straining their fangs and hands.

Ferrus Manus; “The Gorgon:”

Trying to help him with his crafts. He likes it when you join in and inquire about what he is doing. His firm a bit more at ease when you’re around to question or help him. His… hands engulfing yours with ease and he can’t help but be amused and… grateful with you. You’re learning his crafts, but not demanding; wanting to be an emotionless, metal sentinel.

Angron; “The Red Angel:”

Your ability to be in his presence despite his anger literally clawing at his mind. It… almost surprises him. He expects you to run; turn away from his pained fury, but you don’t. You… endure it like a slave would to a whip… He doesn’t deserve you…

Roboute Guilliman; “The Avenging Son:”

Reading him something. He would pause in his work to listen or perhaps call you over to him as some background noise while he does his work. He finds himself soothed, and well… less alone. His shoulders a bit lighter than before. He is… also grateful of you.

Mortarion; “Death Lord:”

Gardens. Take this Death Lord through the gardens and just… shoot out some random facts. Bring some petals up close to him, let him smell the very different air quality and beauty of the worlds. The man would be just happy that you’re including him into something that could be easily be destroyed by chemicals…

Magnus The Red; “Crimson King:”

Honestly, anything you do with a book. You have a book in your hand? Your tongue sticking out in focus, or how you try and figure out the position of some… things. It warms his heart and makes him amused. He also likes it’s when you inquire about his own knowledge and try to learn from his as well.

Horus Lupercal; “The Lupercal:”

The way you speak. He loves it. He loves you. Honestly, you could do anything and this man would still look at you like love at first sight. This man is a hopeless romantic for you. Well, there are some bounds, but still! You get his heart fluttering when you’re by his side.

Lorgar Aurelian; “The Urizen:”

Take an interest in anything he does. Compliment him, give him praise and he shall melt under your fingertips. He just wants true, loving attention and you? Well, you’re giving him it willing and shall praise you in return. It’s almost like two oblivious lovers, but neither gets a room lol.

Vulkan; “Lord of Drakes:”

When you try to gift him back. This maybe a gifting war, but he still loves it nevertheless. He gifts you, and you gift back. He’s amused by your audacity to do such, but he also just… loves it. Cuteness aggression style. So, the mini lover forge wars has started.

Corvus Corax; “The Raven Lord:”

Playing with his crows. He finds a strange… feeling when he watches you. How you coo at them and talk to them as if they are capable of giving you a full sentence. How you pet the gently and give them little not-so-sneaky snacks when he’s not looking…

Alpharius & Omegon; “The Last Primarch:”

Mystery’s and solve. These guys like being detectives or blackmailing. They like knowing things and then gatekeeping it, and this includes you too. They like when you get curious though and come to them for the answers they could provide. Not without something of course.

“@kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.”

“+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @marcela2000, @passionofthesith, @insanity6666, @ilovewolvezz.” - Tagged

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baby-yongbok · 9 months ago

Text

Yes, Mistress

Demon!Seo Changbin x Demon Lord!Afab!Reader

✮ Genre - Explicit (non-idol) - Sub!Changbin x Dom!Reader [MDNI] ✮ WC: 3k

✮ Summary: Needy and lovestruck Changbin will do anything to be the center of attention for his mistress. ✮ CW: This is a monster fucker fic [I know, I didn't see it coming either], Unprotected sex, Anal sex, creampie, light degradation, Changbin is big like really. (I think that's all)

✮ A/N: Okay, so, I tried to finish a different Changbin fic I had to end Binnie Birthday Week but it just wasn't doing it for me so I wrote this in 6 hours. Don't ask me how I came up with it or anything I don't know the answer to any of your questions 😭So here's my first monster fucker fic (Does this fall into that category? I think it does) Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✧ Masterlist ✧

“You’re staring.” You whisper to the entity beside you. He’s been eyeing you for at least an hour. You’ve gotten good at ignoring him but the persistent heat of his pitch black gaze can get a bit heavy. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your bright eyes catch his dark ones and he shrinks a bit. He knows better than to say something like that. He knows not to play around but Changbin can be a bit of a tease. You suppose it’s all in the fun of being a hell dweller, they’re entitled to some entertainment but not when it comes to you. Not when it comes to, Mistress.

“Why would you make me nervous?” You sit up straighter in your chair, pushing your hair to the side to give him a good look at the sigil etched dark into your skin. You’ve acquired ownership of Changbin and a few other demons through the lordship of your father. They fear him of course, but you? You’re different. They’ve learned that you’re more than a bright eyed princess, you’re ruthless, and that’s what excites them. “I make you nervous, never the other way around.”

“Yes, mistress.” Changbin mutters, eyeing you like a lovesick puppy. “I’m sorry for staring it’s just that I -”

“Want attention?” You stand from your seat abruptly and the fiend watches closely. There’s no hint of anxiety or fear from him but you can smell it. You’ve grown familiar with the scent, it keeps you up at night. It drives you insane and paints a smile on your face, something like the one you have now while Changbin digs his blackened claws into the dense wood of the table in front of him.

“You want me to give you attention? You’re jealous that I’ve been calling on Minho more?” He nods, gulping heavily as his midnight pupils beg for you. “What can you give me? What are you offering me, hound?”

“Whatever you need, my mistress.” He stands before you and you glare, you can hear the remnant thumping of his damned heart as he realizes what he’s done. No one stands before you without a summons. “I’m sorry.”

He kneels promptly, Bowing his head towards your bare feet. You take this opportunity to look him over, his pitch black hair shines in the light of your common room and his ashened fingers are digging into the hardwood below him and great anticipation.

There’s a reason that you’ve been overlooking Changbin’s willingness to serve, you like him too much. He’s an annoying love sick imp who you have an undeniable attraction to. He’s the only one of your legion that is casually allowed in your common room. He’s the only one that you allow to dine with you on nights like tonight and he’s the only one who can make you feel like you’re one of them.

You want him, so much so that he pulls your demonic nature to the forefront and you can’t have that, though it is nice to indulge every now and then.

“You’re so needy that you’ve forgotten your place, hm?” You step towards him and he keeps his gaze cast to your feet. “Need I remind you who’s in charge?”

You raise a foot to his chest, pushing him back forcefully. He extends his arms behind him to break the fall and you furrow your brows down at him. “Oh, you’ve truly forgotten.” You push him again and he falls backwards.

“Mistress, I’m -” You shush him, watching as his dark pants grow an impressive tent. “You’re so in love with me, aren’t you?”

He grunts, the tent stiffening at your inquiry. “You were told that I am to be obeyed. You were told to serve me at all costs no matter the consequence. My father told you that I am your owner and you’ve made the honor to serve me your reason to breathe, haven’t you?”

“Yes, mistress. I do love you.” The sound of fabric splitting at the seams echoes through the room, you watch as his thick cock fights to free itself of its confinement. “You’re everything.”

“I know I am.” You press the ball of your foot down between his pecs, the muscles bulge and strain under your touch. Changbin watches as you let your dusk colored toes run over his stomach. He’s soft and strong under your touch and it takes so much control for both of you to stay in line. “You want to serve me?

“Yes, please.” His dark eyes nearly glow in the dim light, his smoky claws have marked your floors with proof of his wavering restraint and his raven hair is nearly smoking with a revenant flame.

Your foot stops at the hilt of his cock just as his useless pants give way to his arousal. He grunts at the bite of cool air that meets his throbbing length, his eyes snap shut in a desperate attempt at taming himself. “I’m sorry, Mistress.” He blinks up at you, sincerity glazing the pitch black.

“Don’t be sorry, my sweet.” You circle the hilt of his cock with your big toe, knocking the head of it as you make your rounds. The sounds that leak from him make you want to make some of your own. “How about you use this pretty dick to serve me, hm? How about we try a little something?”

You press your foot to his length, he moans at the contact. It’s high pitched and begging for more, begging for you. “Yes, whatever you’d like. Anything, mistress, I’m yours.”

He throbs under the slight pressure of your foot and your pussy drips at the feeling. You’ve been growing wet since he started staring so you’re certain that you’re a puddle by now.

“I’m wet.” You state simply but it’s anything but simple to Changbin. “Let’s see if you can still eat pussy correctly, then we’ll try a little something, yeah?” He nods, mumbling confirmations that you don’t care to listen to as you rid yourself of your underwear.

Strings of sticky arousal pull from your cunt to the soaked gusset of the fabric. The sight of it makes Changbin’s cock dribble with arousal. If he weren’t so thick you lick it up for him. You’d swallow his cock so perfectly that he just might get his soul back, but that’s a quest for another day.

“Eyes on me, fiend.” You position yourself over him, lifting your skirt so that you can watch his gaze flick between your pretty brown eyes and your sopping cunt. “Eat.” You lower yourself onto him and he’s tasting you before you can take a breath.

His long tongue slips and glides through your folds with expert precision. He laps at every soaked corner and flicks your swollen clit just how you’ve taught him. Growls rip through the both of you followed by panting moans spilling over your parted lips.

“Fuck, Changbin.” You lift your skirt higher to watch him. His nose rests on your public mound, tickling the hair that you’ve carefully shaped as he shakes his head back and forth with your clit snug between his blushed lips. You throw your head back, animalistic wails ripping from your chest as he sucks on the sensitive nub. This is why you can’t fuck Changbin, he ruins you.

“‘M gonna fucking cum. Gonna cum gonna cum, swallow my fucking cum.” He hums against you, continuing his blissful attack on your cunt until you’re writhing on top of him. His nails dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, leaving marks for the others to see when you summon them for a night. He might not be the only one allowed to fuck you but he know’s that he’s the best. He wants to be the best.

“Release.” You order in a breathy moan and he licks up your cunt one more time before pulling

back. You’re panting over him, eyes shut with the faintest hint of a grin. “Sit up.” He moves swiftly, grabbing you by your thighs and sitting straight up with you positioned in his lap. Your wet cunt is sitting right over his throbbing length and he has to hold his breath to control himself.

“I want you to fuck me.” You lace your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a heated kiss. It’s a clash of hungry tongues fighting for dominance and sharp teeth biting at the plump flesh of the others lips. It’s a battle that you’ll always win. “Fuck my ass.”

“Mistress.” Changbin groans against your lips but you silence him with another kiss. You suck his skilled tongue into your mouth. Twirling the muscle with your own before falling back into a makeout. “I’ll fuck your ass.” He mumbles as you break the kiss.

“Do you think you’ll fit?” You rock yourself over him and he melts. His claws sink into you, and his frame swells under your magnetic touch. You take his hand and bring it back to grip your ass, he grabs at the flesh leaving a harsh spank on your cheek before he brings his finger between them to rim your tiny hole.

“Fuck.” Changbin’s cock twitches against you as he presses into the tight ring of muscle. “It’ll be so tight, gonna stretch you out.” You sigh a moan and he follows.

“Let’s see if you’re right.” You move, hovering over his daunting length. He runs the tip of his dick through your folds to collect your sweet slick before he positions his swollen tip. You lower yourself down onto him, hissing at the brutal stretch. “Ah- my god, Changbin.”

“‘S too fucking tight, not gon - Holy hell, you won’t. You can’t” Only the head of his throbbing length has breaches your hole. Your legs are shaky and unstable the more you try to take. He’s barely a quarter in and you swear that you can feel him in your stomach. “Come here.”

Changbin’s hands find your waist and he lifts you up just enough for the very tip of him to stay in place. “I’ll fuck up into you, is that okay?” You agree, supporting your weight with steady hands on his shoulders. The gesture is useless since Changbin is strong enough to hold your weight times any given number but you keep your hands planted anyway.

You inhale deeply and he takes it as his cue to push up into you. You scream into the air on your exhale, It ends in a moan as more of him sinks into you. Your cunt clenches at the fullness and your sticky arousal trails back to give him just enough lubrication to aid him.

“You’re so fucking big, Bin.” He groans, bucking his hips up slightly to feel more of you. “I wanna feel you in my fucking guts. You’re gonna fill me up, gonna fuck me better than anyone else aren’t you?” You struck a chord, it’s obvious with the way that he growls beneath you.

“Fuck yes, I fuck you better than anyone.” He moves you down, controlling you by your waist as he bucks up into you. You feel the delicious burn of the stretch as more of his cock sinks in. “My mistress, I’m hers. I fuck her tight tiny hole like no one else.”

His head is thrown back, his dark eyes are shut and his mouth is parted in a silent moan. You’re almost an exact mirror of him except you’re anything but quiet. You’re moaning, panting, growling, screaming. Every sound known to man and beyond is vibrating through you at the delicious stretch of his cock.

“Mine.” He mumbles, pushing into you further. He’s fucked out, soul snatched and hypnotized by the thought of you and all that you encompass. This is what you live for. This is what it feels like to have these pretty fiends wrapped around your finger. This is euphoria.

“Shit, Changbin. Changbin you’re fucking deep so fucking- holy fuck.” You’re damn near limp in his arms once he bottoms out. He holds you against his strong chest, his arms wrap around your middle and he bucks up into you little by little.

You have no idea what spot he’s hitting. You have no idea how there could possibly be room for him this deep inside you. None of this makes sense but the pleasure coating your nerve endings doesn’t care for it to. “Fuck me, fuck me, now.”

He lifts you up on demand, helping you bounce on his cock at a pace that would be boring if you weren’t stretched to your limit. Tears stream down your pretty red cheeks, your tongue lulls out of your mouth as you pant cross eyed and fuck out in his arms. “So pretty.” He whispers, moving you on his cock like his favorite fuck toy.

“My clit, please. Touch my pussy.” Changbin maneuvers himself, one arm wraps around you to keep you bouncing on his cock while his free hand rubs at your swollen bud. You cry out above him, tears streaming and screams echoing as he holds you still to fuck up into your pretty tight hole.

Skilled fingers flick and circle your clit as you fall apart in tandem. You claw unique shapes and freeform sigils into his back as he summons the pleasure in your body to take over each and every burning inch of flesh he wishes desperately to devour.

“Cum, cum, cum.” You chant with sprinkles of his name here and there. He presses firmer circles into your clit at the warning. You look up at him with tear stained cheeks and blown pupils and he stares back at you with a shimmering darkness behind drooping lids. “Please let me make you cum, Mistress.”

He’s out of breath when he pleads to you and you’re barely breathing as still and cry out in his hold. He fucks into you slowly as you come undone. The hand that was once on your clit is carving lines into the hardwood as he tries to control his own orgasm. He helps you ride through yours, guiding you to grind on his cock until you’re finally breathing again.

Your eyes flutter open to the most beautiful image of a fucked out hellwalker that you could imagine. He’s practically drooling as he watches you. His shirt is ripped from the swelling of his frame, his hair is a tousled mess from the mindless raking of your fingers and his kiss bitten lips are quietly whispering lost prayers for him to keep his composure.

“You’re so good to me.” You run your hands through his hair and he sighs at the contact, blinking up at you. “I’ll reward you with my cunt, use me to cum.” His eyes get darker, if that's even possible, he sits up straighter against you and you moan at the way your holes clench.

“Use me and fill me with your cum, I can take it, don’t worry.” You coo at him and he keens. His arms circle you again, squeezing you tight against him as he fucks into you slowly.

“Thank you.” He whispers, fucking into you faster and faster by the second as he chants fucked out ‘thank yous’ into the air. “You’re so fucking tiny. So small in my arms I could fuck you for days, for years. Can I please? Can I please have my mistress forever? I’ve already given myself to you, I’m yours, all yours.”

He’s in his head, he’s so caught up in his mumbling that he barely processes your screaming. He’s too lost in his deep need for you to realize that he’s simply manhandling you in his hold. He’s moving you over him like a toy that he’s determined to break. “I’m yours all yours.”

A grunt that can only be recognized as inhuman erupts from him as he falls apart. Ropes of heavy, thick cum paint your walls and you find yourself coming undone again at the feeling of it. You moan into the air like a woman possessed as you squirt all over his stomach, your arousal pools and drips down with the cum that escapes your tiny hole where Changbin still has you plugged and full.

You pant against each other, skin glistening with sweat as the air around you evaporates. He’s still holding you, nails digging into your sides and marking you yet again. His back is no better, there are traces of you on almost every inch of him and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You gather all of your strength to pull yourself away from Changbin. He helps you, guiding you up and off of his cock. You moan as you slowly start to feel empty with each inch of him that escapes. Once you’re free of his cock his cum spills from your gaping hole. He gawks at the sight, cock twitching at the way your hole clenches around nothing.

You waver a bit as you try to stand but he keeps you steady, holding you by your hips as you stand over him. He blinks up at you, his hazy gaze meeting yours. “Did I serve you well, mistress?”

You offer him a lazy smile. “Hm, I think you could’ve done better.” He freezes, eyes growing wide and that delicious smell of anxiety is rolling off of him in an instant.

“I’m sorry.” You pet his head, combing the messy hair with your fingers. “Don’t be sorry just make it up to me.”

“Of course, anything.” You take an unstable step towards him, relying on his strength to keep you steady. “Clean me up.”

His eyes flick down to your messy cunt, the mix of your and his arousal is slick against your skin and he holds back a moan at the sight. He knows that you’re fucking with him, you’re using him and it’s just what he wanted. This is the attention he was hoping for.

“Yes, mistress.”

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