#my boy you just keep fumbling worse with time

[frostwork]

Li Lianhua when he cant lie anymore like damn i got nothing bro you did it you somehow made everything worse with everyone with your lyin bullshit especially yourself please my man stop hating yourself

Like you could have taken almost the exact aame path and gotten more done if you had t turned yourself into a pathological liar my brother in christ get a grip!

And di feisheng is out there im convinced with his memories back and trying to play it cool so he doesnt get betray poisoned again and the poor man has to pretend to be straight for the worlds most unwell and annoying simp

God i love disasters and pain im slurpin it up

[sturnsdarling]

‘never have I ever, shared a girl with my brother’

Matt and Chris’ best friend takes an innocent game of ‘never have I ever’ as her opportunity to ask the boys something she’s always wondered

vibe check: THREESOME (obviously no contact between matt and chris the fact that this even needs to be said is insane). dirty talk, softdom!mattandchris, matt the much, double penetration (no lube mentioned but PLEASE USE LUBE i'm so fr), throat fucking (chris receiving), fingering, squirting, titty play, hickies, cream pie, multiple orgasms (i lost count), they both nut inside her (kill me now), cute mini aftercare literally anything you can think of is in this fic dude i could go on forever

5.3k words of pure smut

A/N: the build up/foreplay to the actual smut is basically the scene from challengers because that scene actually changed my life. anyways if you see my search history say anything about how to manifest thought into reality through detailed story writing mind your business.

love and cigs, merc

There was a city wide power outage in LA, you were hanging out at the boys' house with Matt and Chris when suddenly, the TV turned off and the entire house was pitch black. At first you all freaked out, Chris spouting shit about how this is the night you all die and reeling off the game plan for when an intruder comes in, you and Matt were slightly more collected, Matt immediately checking his phone and confirming the power outage whilst you joked along with Chris about how you were going to fight this supposed intruder.

It had been about an hour, Matt had gone to Nicks room to get all his candles and put them on the living room floor, giving you guys some illumination in the dark. Chris was playing music from his phone, feeling grateful for spotify's offline option. You guys had exhausted every talking point, and even Chris was running out of things to say.

At some point between boredom and death, you suggested a game of never have I ever, and the boys reluctantly agreed. You weren't really playing properly because they didn't drink but, at least it was something.

"never have I ever, lost my virginity on a bench in Boston" Matt said, raising an eyebrow at Chris who rolled his eyes, punching his brothers shoulder.

"oh my god, I fuckin' forgot that thats how you lost it!" you laughed uncontrollably, keeling over into the rug on the floor.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, kid, you've definitely done worse" Chris tutted at you.

"oh yeah? like what?" you said, playful confrontation in your voice.

"d'you remember when I had to come get you from that dudes house because you threw up on his dick?" Matt interrupted yours' and Chris' conversation.

Your eyes went wide and you nearly spat out the soda in your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter.

"I remember that! you had to climb out the bathroom window because you were too embarrassed to go back out" Chris was keeled over in laughter.

"we've all been there" You shrugged, owning your embarrassing mistake.

"no, kid, we haven't" Matt chuckled, looking to Chris who's face was scrunched up in a confused laugh.

"oh, come on? you're seriously telling me you've never had an embarrassing sexual encounter" you pressed.

"none involving vomit" Chris spoke through his laughter

"and none where I had to flee the scene by jumping out a window" Matt added to Chris' taunting.

"whatever, you guys are just boring, you're lucky you have me to keep you entertained with my embarrassing ass life" You rolled your eyes, pretending to be offended.

"to be fair, once I did accidentally punch a girl in the face whilst i was trying to fuck her" Chris said, trying to stifle his laughter.

"how the fuck did you manage that" You burst into hysterics.

"it was every dark and fumbly and I was still basically a virgin, okay? I apologised like fifty times and she still made me leave" Chris said, a boyish sulk taking over his body.

"dude that's not as bad as the time I was this close to a threesome with these girls, and I got so anxious that I told them my dog had just died and ran out half naked" Matt said, pinching his fingers together and huffing

"not my boy trev, thats so deep bro" Chris shook his head, acting disappointed in his brother.

Matt bringing up his near threesome experience made your ears perk up, and a question you had always wanted to ask came flooding back into your brain. You had been friends with the boys for a while and, had shared stories of all of your sexual escapades, some funny, some incredible and some awful, you were all totally open with each other.

But, your whole friendship, you'd always been curious as to whether they'd ever been offered a threesome, or taken someone up on one. You knew that girls would approach them both, but if one had more interest than the other, the other would back off and let his brother do his thing.

You uncrossed your legs, laying them out flat and placing one over the other as you leaned back on your palms, arching your back slightly as you looked between the boys.

"I have another never have I ever" You said, breaking their conversation.

They both looked to you at the same time, their breath hitching in their throat slightly at the sight of your chest being illuminated by the flicker of candle light.

"never have I ever...shared a girl with my brother" you said with complete nonchalance, looking back and forth between the boys.

Chris and Matt side eyed each other and looked back to you, mouths slightly agape at your forward question.

"like, fucked the same girl on different nights?" Chris asked, being the slightly braver of the two.

you shook your head, "like, fucked the same girl, at the same time" your voice was getting more and more seductive without even meaning to.

They looked at each other again, and then back to you, both slightly stunned, and slightly turned on by you even asking them that.

"we've been offered" Matt shrugged, "but we said no"

"why?" you said, sitting up straight now.

"cause I don't really wanna see my brothers face when I'm tryna cum" Chris laughed, looking to matt who made and agreeing face.

"interesting" you raised your brow quickly with a downwards smile

"why's that interesting?" Matt said, an air of seductive curiosity in his tone.

you shrugged, "I dunno, I jus' think you'd probably enjoy it", you pulled your legs into a criss cross under you, "you don't think the idea of fucking a girl who's so horny for you that she needs another version of you, is hot?" you tilted your head at them.

The boys were slightly stunned, they'd never thought about it like that before. Chris shifted where he sat, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his crotch as Matts eyes were trained on you, his tongue pressed to his cheek as you smiled at him smugly.

"well, when you put it like that, I guess it doesn't sound too bad" Chris said, letting his eyes wander over your frame.

"I've got one" Matt said abruptly, you and Chris looked to him, "never have I ever, offered my triplet best friends a threesome" Matt smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes and Chris attention shot straight to you, "I did not offer you a threesome-"

"yes, you did" Matt cut you off

"I simply asked if you'd ever had one" you shrugged, pretending to have no idea what he was talking about.

"yeah, and then proceeded to tell us exactly why we'd like it" Chris raised a brow at you, not realising he was edging closer to you on the floor.

"was I right?" you said, cocking a brow at Chris.

"yeah, you were" Matt answered for him.

Suddenly, the boys had come significantly closer to you, sitting in front of you like two siamese cats waiting for permission to do something. Your attention flitted between them periodically, the tension in the air thick with anticipation.

"so what then? would you say yes, knowing what you know now?" you said, trying to maintain your confidence

Matt smirked menacingly as Chris' brows dropped, pressing his tongue into the side of his teeth and looking to Matt. Matt side eyed him and they both returned their attentions to you.

"depends on who was askin" Chris said, eyes trained on yours.

"are you askin', pretty girl?" Matt muttered, his long fingers coming up to play with a strand of your hair.

The pet name made your stomach flutter, you don't think you'd ever been this turned on in your whole life, the sight of the boys' growing bulges from under their joggers making your mouth water as they both gawked at you, waiting for permission to fuck you exactly how they knew you wanted them to.

You didn't reply, only smiled as you leant forward, pressing your lips against Matts softly. He leaned into the kiss instantly, his hand coming to your face to pull you into him. The kiss was slow and somewhat soft, Matt asking for polite permission to press his tongue against yours with a gentle swipe over your bottom lip. You granted him access, and he pulled you in deeper to him with his hand on your jaw. He led the kiss with a gentle dominance that was slightly surprising from him. Chris watched with a slightly open mouth, watching as your tongue lapped and pressed over Matts, growing increasingly desperate to know what you felt like.

You broke the kiss with Matt, and immediately turned your attentions to Chris, kissing him with the same tenderness that you did Matt. Chris was a lot more feverish than his brother, his tongue entering your mouth instantly as his hand came to cup the under side of your chin. He bit at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before soothing the sting with a warm kiss.

You were reeling in the feeling of kissing them both, the differences between them being so apparent, and only serving to make you want to know how else they were different.

You broke the kiss with Chris and sat back with a content sigh, looking between the two of them as they gawked at you with puffy lips and hooded eyes. You smiled, pushing your hair back off your shoulders and letting it hang down your back, exposing your neck to them. The boys looked to each other and, in an instant, they were by your sides, mouths latched around your neck, pressing their tongues against the soft skin, trailing kisses down either side of your neck.

your whole body felt like it was on fire, the sensation of the two of them nipping at sucking at you neck making you whimper slightly. Matt trailed his kisses down your chest, pressing his warm tongue along the curve of your cleavage as it begged to be freed from your tight tank top.

Chris went in the opposite direction, moving his mouth up your jaw and capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as Matt slowly tugged at the hem of your top.

You pulled at the strap of your vest, letting it fall down your shoulder and giving Matt silent permission to free your tits from their confines. He complied, ripping your tank down with brute force, making your tits bounce free. He instantly latched his mouth around your nipple, biting down on the flesh and soothing the sting with a wet press of his tongue.

You moaned into Chris mouth, and his hand instinctively found the nape of your neck, collecting a handful of your hair and tugging on it, pulling your head back as he rose to his knees, not breaking the kiss.

"you like having us both kiss you like this, huh princess?" Chris said, smirking down at you with his lips brushing over yours.

"mhm" you nodded, your reply coming out in a whimper as Matt continued to work your nipple.

"she said it herself, Chris, she's so horny for us that just one isn't enough" Matt chuckled, palming your tit in his large hand, using his other to tease the hem of your joggers.

You flinched at the touch, a small shiver running down your spine at the sensation of Matts soft fingers teasing your skin.

"so responsive" Matt uttered, his attention focused on how your skin came up in goosebumps under his touch.

"come here, baby" Chris said as he shifted over to rest his back against the sofa, pulling you slightly by your hair.

You obeyed his orders, coming to rest in between his open legs, your back pressed to his. Matt turned to face you both, watching as Chris pried your legs open, raking his hands down the inside of your thighs at an agonising place, moving closer and closer to your throbbing pussy, but stopping before he reached you there.

You whined as Chris moved his hands round to the outside of your thighs, and Matt chuckled at your neediness.

"oh, come on, Chris, look how needy she is for it, just give her a little taste" Matt looked you up and down, his eyes hooded

"you want it, princess?" Chris muttered, his lips pressed to your ear as he hooked his fingers around the top of your joggers.

you nodded, head pressed against Chris' shoulder with your lip tucked between your teeth.

"words, pretty girl, we need words" Matt pushed, leaning forward and squeezing your thigh, inching his hand down your leg.

"yes, please, I want it" you whimpered, picking up your heavy head to look between the boys.

"want what, baby?" Chris said, a smirk wide on his lips as he nipped at your earlobe

"I want you both, I need you both to fuck me, please" you said, desperation thick in your voice.

With that, Chris pushed down your joggers as Matt assisted in lifting your hips up. Matt pulled them down, eyes trained on your covered pussy as sticky juices leaked from between the lace. You were soaked, and he couldn't help but reach forward to touch you.

"look, Chris, she's dripping for us" Matt said, pushing a finger up your covered folds, collecting your wetness on his finger, showing the glistening substance to Chris, who's mouth was once again latched around your neck.

Matt continued to tease your hole, getting down to eye level with your pussy as Chris continued to hold your legs wide open for his brother, your back arching into his chest as Chris sucked purple marks all over your neck, one hand in your hair, the other pressing bruises into your knee. Matts hands pushed you open further for him as he pressed his tongue flat against your throbbing pussy, you released a guttural moan at the sensation, your head rolling back on Chris' shoulder, giving him better access to your neck.

Matt wasted no time, he had had a taste of you and now he was hungry. He pulled your panties to the side and latched his mouth around your pussy, pressing his tongue into your hole as his nose brushed against your clit.

Chris pulled his hand out from your hair and began to palm your tit, still relentlessly attacking your neck with wet, warm kisses and soft bites.

The feeling of Chris working your tits as Matt lapped and sucked at your pussy was euphoric, the moans leaving you borderline pornographic as the boys' groaned at the sound of you whimpering for them. Matt brought a slender finger to your entrance, moving up your pussy to suck on your clit as he slipped his finger into your sopping hole with ease. Almost immediately, you clenched around him, and he inserted a second finger, curling them upwards as he coaxed your orgasm from you.

"that feel good, princess?" Chris muttered in your ear, "you sound so fuckin' pretty when you moan, y'know that?"

All you could do was moan in response, any sense of coherence being ripped from you by the second as Matt lapped at your pussy like a man starved. He was moaning, actually moaning with every clench around his fingers, drinking you in like you were his last meal.

Chris twisted and pinched at your nipples, his grip on your knee never wavering as he held you open for Matt. You turned your head, biting down on Chris' jaw and pressing your tongue against the stubble there, he chuckled, and captured your mouth in a feverish kiss, groaning as you bit down on his plump bottom lip. His hand raked down your inner thigh, pressing and squeezing bruises into the flesh as he pressed his tongue against yours.

Matt sucked on your clit, burying his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and grazing your g-spot with his long fingers. You broke the kiss with Chris with a pornographic moan, your hands flying to Matts hair to push him desperately into your pussy.

"i think that means keep going, Matt" Chris chuckled.

Matt looked up at you, your mouth agape and brows furrowed as he thrust his fingers deep inside your pussy over and over again, his tongue running circles around your puffy clit. You couldn't help but grind against Matts face, and he moaned at the feeling, using his free hand to hold your hip, near enough forcing you to grind against his tongue harder.

Chris pulled at your hair, making you look at him again and locking his mouth around yours, tongue aggressively pressing and pushing against yours as he returned his hand back to palm your tits.

You were a whimpering mess, moaning and crying into Chris mouth as Matt brought you over the edge with his tongue. You covered Matts mouth with your cum, shaking and convulsing above him as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. He unlatched his glistening mouth from yours and helped you ride out your orgasm, watching in awe as you bucked your shaking hips into his hand.

"look how pretty she is when she cums, Chris" Matt said, gaining Chris' attention

Chris broke the kiss and chuckled, watching as you shook against his chest, "the prettiest girl in the world" he muttered, raking his hand down your stomach and pressing the pads of his fingers against your pulsating clit.

You shifted against Chris, whimpering as you felt a wave of hot tingles rush over your body. Matt was curling his fingers inside you relentlessly, begging for more of you, and Chris was rubbing fast circles against your clit, using your own sticky juices as lube for his movements.

Your eyes where clenched shut, head heavy against Chris' shoulder as you bucked your hips into their hands, moaning relentlessly and unable to form a single thought. A second, fast approaching orgasm ripped through you, and you clenched hard around Matts fingers.

"please, please, please" you began to beg, unsure of what you were begging for as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You released a wave of juices over Matts hand, squirting up his arm as you lifted your hips, stuttering. Chris pushed you back down, chuckling as he watched you squirm.

When you finally began to come down from our high, the boys slowed their pace and Matt pulled his fingered from you, licking them clean and moaning at the taste of you on his tongue.

"you taste so good, pretty girl" Matt shook his head, pulling off his top with one swift movement.

Chris dipped his fingers in your pussy, inciting a small whimper from you, and pulled them out just as fast, wrapping his arm round you to taste you on his fingers.

"fuckin' delicious" Chris groaned, shifting you forward slightly so he could pull down his shorts, letting his leaking cock slap against his stomach.

You were completely spent already, mind reeling from the shattering orgasms you just experienced, but the sight of the boys undressing for you made you feel increasingly desperate. Chris situated you back against his chest, you were both planted on the sofa and he had lifted you up onto his lap, his cock pressed against your sensitive pussy. Chris pried your legs open once more just after Matt had removed your soaked panties, leaving you totally bare for them.

Chris began to tease your folds with his throbbing cock as Matt freed himself of the rest of his clothes.

"you think you can take us both, princess?" Chris muttered in your ear, his voice cracking with every pump of his cock.

"mhm" you nodded, eyes fluttering at the feeling of Chris teasing your folds with his tip, "I can take it"

"good girl" Matt smirked, coming closer to you and Chris as he pumped his hard length in his hand.

Matt and Chris locked eyes and Matt cocked his head, Chris lifted you up slightly and let his cock slip out the way of your entrance. Matt pressed his tip through your folds, a needy whimper falling from your lips as Chris began to rub slow circles around the entrance of your asshole, preparing you to take them both.

"you ready, beautiful?" Matt said, standing over you with his tip pressed into your folds.

"please, give it to me" you nodded desperately.

Matt smiled a prideful smirk and with your words, pushed his girthy cock inside you. You both moaned at the sensation, Matts hands finding the backs of your thighs as Chris held you open for him. Matt bottomed out inside you, brows knitted together at the tightness of your warm pussy around him.

The feeling of Matt stretching you out, coupled with the slow rubs of Chris' gentle fingers against your hole made you feel light headed, moaning uncontrollably as Chris pushed one, and then two fingers into your gaping hole, using your own wetness as lubrication to slip his long fingers in and out of you. The feeling was unusual, but definitely not bad, the warm touch of them both caressing you as Matt rutted into your seeping pussy at an agonising pace, of Chris fucking his fingers into your asshole, stretching you out perfectly, was genuinely blissful.

You had never felt anything like it, and just as you thought it couldn't get any better, Chris lifted you up slightly, causing Matts dick to slip out of you momentarily. He inched his fingers into your mouth, and teased your hole with his long cock.

"bite down on me, baby, it'll help with the sting" Chris cooed in your ear as he pressed his tip into your clenched hole.

As Chris pushed into you, Matt did the same, thrusting his cock back into your warm pussy. You did just as Chris said, biting down on his fingers as Matt and Chris stretched you out completely. You cried out a moan, the sting only adding to your euphoria as they both began to fuck your gaping holes.

You were completely full of them, being thrust into from every angle as Chris fucked up into your tight asshole, and Matt thrust down into your weeping pussy, Chris fingers in your mouth, and Matts hands pressing bruises into the backs of your thighs.

They were both moaning and muttering, praising nonsense, filling the air with low grunts that were nearly drowned out by the moans that left your throat.

"y'taking us so fuckin' well, pretty girl, so fuckin' well" Matt grunted, planting a hard slap on the back of your thigh, kneading the flesh with soothing touches just after.

"so fuckin' tight around me, baby, fuck, you feel so good" Chris groaned feverishly in your ear, biting down on your lobe as he picked up his pace, fucking into your hole with animalistic passion.

Their praises made your head spin, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your third orgasm of the night.

"m'gonna cum, please let me cum, i'm- i'm- i'm" you were rambling, unable to think straight as the boys continued to fuck your holes.

"cum, baby, cum for us" Matt grunted, pressing his thumb over your puffy clit and rubbing steady circles over it.

"show us how pretty you are when you cum, princess, show me again, I miss it" Chris muttered into your ear, pulling his fingers from your mouth and rubbing wet circles over your nipple.

Your orgasm ripped through you, leaving a white sticky ring all around Matts cock as it leaked from you and down onto Chris' balls. Neither of them stopped their pace, fucking you through your high as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your whole body shaking in white hot euphoria as they filled you up. You were borderline screaming at this point, moaning their names over and over again as your whole body tensed.

"so fuckin sexy" Matt grunted, rutting into you with gritted teeth.

Chris watched as your jaw hung slack, slowing his pace in your asshole and pressing a few long, slow and hard thrusts inside of you.

"I need t'know what that pretty mouth feels like" Chris said, pulling out of you. The sting of him removing himself from your gaping hole being soothed by the cool, wet juices of your sopping pussy.

Matt pulled out, earning a whimper from you at the complete emptiness you felt.

Before you could complain, you were thrown about the sofa, head hanging over the edge with your legs pressed against your chest and your mouth stuffed full.

Matt was pounding into you, holding your legs tight against your chest but just open enough so that he could see your tits bounce as he rutted into you.

Chris had his hands wrapped round your jaw, softly caressing your cheeks as he fucked your open throat.

"you're so good, baby, taking me down your pretty little throat like this as Matt abuses your perfect pussy" Chris cooed softly, watching as tears pricked at your eyes, gagging around his massive cock with every thrust.

You loved it, it was exactly what you wanted. The feeling of Matt rutting into you, stretching you out and hitting your g-spot as Chris pounded down into the back of your throat, looking at you like you were an angel as he made you gag around him, was perfect. You reached a hand down to your pussy, and began to rub fast circles over your clit. Matt near enough growled at the sight, fucking you harder than ever, the sting of his skin slapping against yours only serving to push you closer to the edge again.

"keep doin' that, princess, keep playin' with y'self for me, kay? don't you dare stop" Matt grunted, breathy moans escaping his mouth with every thrust into your clenching pussy.

"you gonna cum, beautiful? you like having your throat fucked so much you'll touch yourself over it?" Chris smirked down at you, his pace into your throat never wavering as he periodically threw his head back, thrusting deep into the back of your throat.

You attempted to nod around him, whimpering and moaning around his cock at the familiar tingly feeling creeping up your spine. Chris moaned your name as he bottomed out in your throat, hips stuttering slightly as he reluctantly pulled out and began to thrust in and out once more.

You were clenching hard around Matt, and he knew you were about to cum, uttering encouraging praises to you in hopes of seeing you cum again. "come on baby, gimme one more, y'so fuckin' perfect, such a good girl, jus' gimme one more"

Your pace on your clit began to falter and you came all over Matts dick, moaning around Chris' length as tears fell from your eyes. The feeling of you clenching so hard around him gave Matt the push he needed, and with a few hard and fast thrusts into your sensitive and spent pussy, he came inside you, fucking his cum into you as he rode out his high, pressing bruises into your thighs as his head hung low on his neck.

"fuck, oh my- fuck" Matt groaned, leaning down and biting down on the bone of your knee, trying to steady his bucking hips as they chased the feeling of your warm pussy leaking his own cum all over his cock.

Your whole body felt limp, you were completely fucked out, and yet, as Chris continued to fuck your throat, you found yourself almost sad at the emptiness you felt when Matt finally pulled out of your throbbing pussy.

"Chris, you gotta feel how fuckin' tight she is, dude" Matt sighed, shaking his head and resting back onto the soft couch to catch his breath.

Chris pulled out from the depths of your throat and gave you a warm smile from your hung position over the sofa. He walked round, grabbing your legs and spinning you round so your thighs were spread for him, ass nearly hanging off the edge of the sofa as Chris lined himself up with your spent hole.

"you think you can take just a lil' more, baby? you wanna let me cum inside you as well?" Chris caressed your thigh with one hand and pumped his cock with the other.

"yes, please, Chris, fill me up jus' like Matt did" you whimpered, spreading your thighs wider for him.

Chris smiled, "such a good girl" pressing gentle touches into your thighs as he pushed his cock deep into your aching hole.

Chris' eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feeling of your tight, warm pussy sucking him in like a vice, "Jesus, fuck" he moaned.

You whined at the stretch, not even close to recovered from the pounding Matt had given you. Tears pricked at your eyes once more and you moaned Chris' name, pressing a desperate hand into his chest.

Matt came up beside you, taking your jaw in his hand gently and pressing a tender kiss on your open mouth.

"you can take it, baby, be a good girl and take it" Matt said softly, caressing your hair as you nodded, eyes fluttery and lips parted.

Chris was fucking into you like he'd never felt a pussy like yours in his life. Every time he pulled out, he was sucked back in by your clenching walls, reeling in the way you felt stretched out around him. Your tits were bouncing with every thrust, and with your tongue pressed against Matts in a needy, sloppy, moan filled kiss, you didn't notice Chris' hips begin to stutter. His pace began to falter as he became a rambling mess, thrusting in and out of you, cursing and moaning your name as you moaned into Matts mouth at the feeling of him effortlessly fucking into your g-spot over and over again with his lengthy cock.

With a final hard few thrusts, Chris' mouth was latched around the curve of your neck, biting down on the muscle as he came inside you, filling you up for the second time that night. He fucked you through his high, pushing his cum deep inside your already cum soaked walls.

Matts hold on you was gentle and grounding, him only pulling away from kissing you when Chris mustered the strength to pull out of your perfect pussy.

Chris reached down to the floor and put on his shorts, throwing Matt his and slumping down on the sofa beside you. You were sandwiched between them, Matts head rested on your shoulder and Chris laying over your stomach, your legs hanging open over the edge of the sofa. They were both panting, tracing small circles on your skin as your whole body relaxed into the soft cushion of the sofa.

You were exhausted, completely spent and desperate for sleep as you felt the boys' cum leak out of your sore pussy.

Matt lifted his head up, hooking his finger under your jaw to make you look at him, "you okay, pretty girl?" he asked softly.

You nodded with fluttery eyes and a weak smile, your hand caressing Chris' soft curls as he laid in your lap.

Matt smiled at you, pressing a gentle kiss on your nose, "you wanna go have a nice warm bath and cuddle up in bed with me n'Chris?"

you nodded again, eyes fluttering closed as you hummed, unable to form a sentence.

The boys helped you up, Chris passed you his t-shirt and helped you put it on, telling you to go easy and let him do everything.

They walked you to the bathroom, Matt holding you against his chest as Chris ran the bath and helped you step in, both of them easing you down into the bubbly warm water.

You sighed at the relief of the warm water covering you, your eyes closing and head rolling back on its hinge for a moment.

Matt was sitting down by the side of the tub, his finger tips tracing soft circles on your shoulders as Chris sat on the counter top, sorting the perfect queue of songs to help you relax as much as possible.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[solxamber]

Hello, I love your writing! The isekai fics are so fun, Vil's was my favorite! Can I request the twst boys (+ staff if you have inspiration for it) comforting a reader who just breaks down in tears after the seventh overblot is resolved because they haven't had much support and time to process being in a new world away from everything they've ever known, were basically told to play therapist by Crowley, and have had their life and their friends lives at risk. Lots of angst but mostly comfort in the end! Thank you if you write this!

7th Overblot Aftermath

Characters: All NRC + Staff

hi! and thank you so much 🫶 vil was the first one I wrote I'm glad you liked it. I love this request and I hope you like it <3

The aftermath of Malleus’s overblot felt surreal. The sky had cleared, but the air was still heavy with the weight of what had just happened. It was over. Finally over. You had seen seven overblots now, each one pushing you and your friends to the edge, forcing you to confront darkness that shouldn’t have existed in people you had come to care for.

But this one had felt different. Maybe it was because of the sheer power Malleus wielded, or maybe it was because of how fragile the world around you had seemed as you fought to bring him back. You had nearly lost him—nearly lost everyone. And you were so, so tired.

Your knees gave out, hitting the ground with a soft thud. You stared at the grass beneath you, eyes blurring with unshed tears. Everyone was celebrating the victory, but all you could think about was the sheer exhaustion gnawing at your bones, the burden of playing mediator, therapist, and survivor all at once. You hadn’t signed up for this. You had been thrown into this world without warning, away from everything you had ever known, and you hadn’t had a moment to breathe since.

“I’m so tired…” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

And then it all came crashing down. The walls you had so carefully built around yourself crumbled, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Quiet at first, but then the sobs came harder, your shoulders shaking as you finally let yourself break.

You barely registered footsteps approaching until a pair of hands rested gently on your shoulders.

Ace Trappola

"Hey, hey," Ace’s voice broke the silence, softer than you’d ever heard it before. “What’s wrong? You’re... crying.”

You hiccuped, trying to suppress the sobs that wouldn’t stop coming. Ace was never one for emotional moments—at least, not the serious kind. He usually joked his way out of anything too heavy, but right now, he seemed out of his depth.

“C’mon, don’t cry,” he mumbled, his voice awkward but concerned. “We’ve been through worse, right? I mean, we beat Malleus of all people. If we can get through that, we can get through anything.”

He crouched beside you, his hand patting your shoulder in an attempt to be comforting, though he was clearly fumbling. “Just… talk to us, okay? We’re here. You don’t have to keep everything inside.”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice, but the tears kept coming. Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure of what else to say, but he stayed close, his presence enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.

Deuce Spade

Deuce knelt down beside you, his expression full of concern. His hand hovered over your back, unsure whether to touch you, as if he was afraid of making things worse. He eventually settled on patting your back gently, his voice unsteady but earnest.

“It’s okay,” Deuce whispered, his usual tough demeanor nowhere to be found. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re all here for you. I—I didn’t realize how much you’ve been going through.”

His face was a mix of worry and guilt, as if he felt bad for not noticing sooner. “You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore. You’ve been looking out for us this whole time, and I… I didn’t see how much that’s been hurting you.”

You couldn’t respond, your throat tight with emotion. Deuce, seeing your tears still falling, gently shifted closer, offering the only comfort he knew how: his presence. “We’re friends, right? And friends help each other. So… let us help you, okay?”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle appeared beside you, his normally rigid posture softer now. He knelt down, placing a hand on your arm, his touch surprisingly tentative. He looked at you for a moment, eyes filled with unspoken regret before he spoke.

“I should have seen how much you’ve been carrying,” Riddle began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You’ve been through so much—more than any of us realized. I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

His words were measured, careful, as if he was trying not to overwhelm you. “I’ve been so focused on maintaining order, on fixing things after my own mistakes, that I failed to recognize how much weight you’ve been holding on your own.”

He sighed softly, guilt clear in his voice. “You’ve been our support through everything, but you’ve had no one to lean on yourself. That’s not fair to you, and it’s not something you should have had to do alone.”

Riddle stayed close, his hand still resting on your arm, offering comfort in the only way he knew how—through quiet sincerity.

Trey Clover

Trey crouched down beside you, his presence calm and steady, like always. He didn’t say anything at first, just rested a hand gently on your shoulder, waiting for your sobs to slow. He wasn’t one for grand gestures or overly emotional words, but he didn’t need them. His quiet support spoke volumes.

“You’ve been doing a lot for everyone,” Trey said softly, his voice low and warm. “More than anyone should have to. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”

He offered you a tissue, waiting patiently as you wiped your face, though the tears kept coming. Trey’s hand stayed on your shoulder, a grounding weight.

“You don’t have to keep everything bottled up,” he continued, his tone gentle. “We’re all in this together, you know? If you need a break, if you need someone to listen… we’re here. I’m here.”

There was no judgment in his voice, no impatience, just the quiet assurance that he’d be there for you whenever you needed.

Cater Diamond

Cater slid down beside you, his usual carefree smile nowhere in sight. Instead, his eyes were soft with concern as he pulled out a tissue and handed it to you.

“Y’know, it’s okay to break down sometimes,” Cater said quietly, watching as you wiped your face. His voice was unusually subdued, and for once, there was no joking, no lightheartedness to deflect from the situation.

“We’ve all been through a lot,” he continued, “but I think you’ve been carrying more than the rest of us. Crowley’s been dumping all this stuff on you, expecting you to handle everything, but you shouldn’t have to. Not alone.”

Cater leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve been the glue holding us together. But who’s been holding you together, huh?”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to answer, but the tears just kept coming. Cater didn’t push. He just sat beside you, his presence steady, offering you the space to cry without judgment.

“It’s okay to let it out,” he said, his voice soft. “We’ve got you now.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona crouched down next to you, his green eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of your trembling form. He let out an exasperated sigh, as if annoyed by the situation—not by you, but by everything you’d been forced to endure.

“Ugh, this is exactly why I hate people like Crowley,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Always dumping stuff on others and never dealin’ with the mess themselves.”

He placed a heavy, warm hand on your back, his grip firm but comforting. “Listen, you ain’t weak for feelin’ like this. You’ve done more than enough, and I don’t blame you for breakin’ down. Hell, anyone else would’ve lost it way before you did.”

Leona’s tone softened slightly, his voice low and steady. “You’re tougher than most of the idiots I know. So, stop thinkin’ you gotta do everything yourself. Just rest already.” He grumbled something under his breath about humans overworking themselves, but stayed close by, a quiet, protective presence.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie hunkered down next to you, his usual cheeky grin replaced by something much softer. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head lightly. “Sheesh, you really let all that pile up on ya, huh?”

He gave you a light nudge with his elbow, playful but careful. “Look, you don’t gotta carry everything by yourself, ya know? I get it—you’re tough. But even tough people gotta take a break now and then, yeah?”

Ruggie’s eyes gleamed with empathy, his voice taking on a gentle, comforting tone you didn’t hear often from him. “Life’s been a little unfair to ya, huh? I mean, Crowley dumpin’ all that responsibility on you… it’s not right. But you’re here, and you’re still standin’, even after all that.”

He flashed you a small, reassuring smile. “But you don’t gotta stand alone. You’ve got us now. Lemme know if you need a break—I’ll hustle for the both of us.” Ruggie winked, his familiar mischievousness flickering back into his expression, but the concern in his eyes remained genuine.

Jack Howl

Jack’s ears twitched as he knelt down beside you, his tail swaying slowly with a sense of unease. He wasn’t great with words, but the sight of you breaking down hit him harder than he expected. “Hey,” he began softly, his voice gruff but sincere. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

His hand hovered awkwardly for a second before settling firmly on your shoulder. Jack wasn’t sure how to help, but he wanted to—more than anything. “I know you’ve been strong… probably stronger than anyone should have to be. But it’s okay to let it out.”

He shifted slightly, trying to find the right words. “I… I know how it feels to be away from everything familiar. To feel like you don’t have anyone to lean on. But that’s not true. You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us.”

His grip on your shoulder tightened briefly, like he was silently reassuring you of his support. “You don’t have to face all of this alone. We’re here for you. And I’m not gonna let anything happen to you—or anyone else.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul approached you cautiously, his usual calm and collected demeanor faltering as he saw you crumbling under the weight of everything. His steps were slow, calculated, but there was an unusual tightness in his chest. He knelt down beside you, his expression torn between concern and his usual polished facade.

“You’ve… been carrying quite the burden, haven’t you?” he asked softly, though there was a certain edge to his voice, almost as if he was angry—at the world, at Crowley, at everything that had led to this moment.

His hand hovered over your shoulder for a moment before he rested it gently, almost hesitantly. “I won’t lie to you,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always admired how capable you are. But no one should be expected to handle what you have. Crowley’s negligence… it’s unacceptable.”

Azul glanced away briefly, his sharp gaze softening. “But you’re not alone anymore. You have us. You have me. And I promise, I won’t let anyone take advantage of you again—not without consequence.”

There was a sincerity in his words that Azul rarely revealed, a vulnerability hidden beneath his usual polished exterior. “You don’t have to keep being strong on your own. Allow yourself to lean on someone else for once.”

Jade Leech

Jade knelt gracefully beside you, his usual serene smile gone, replaced with a look of quiet concern. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was gauging how best to approach the situation. “My, you’ve been holding this all in for quite some time, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice as smooth as ever, but with an underlying warmth that was rare for him.

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his fingers light but reassuring. “You’ve done more than anyone could ask of you. It’s no surprise that you feel overwhelmed.”

Jade’s gaze flickered over your trembling form, his mismatched eyes studying you carefully. “It’s a great deal of responsibility to bear, especially in a world so far from your own. But… you’re not alone.”

There was a softness in his tone that you didn’t expect, his usual composed demeanor shifting. “You’ve been strong for everyone else. Now, allow yourself to rest. Let us take care of things for a while. You’ve certainly earned it.”

He smiled gently, his hand still resting on your shoulder, steady and reliable. “And do not worry. Should anyone try to take advantage of your kindness again, they will have me to deal with.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd approached you in his typical loose, carefree stride, but when he saw the state you were in, his usual playful grin vanished. His steps quickened, and before you knew it, he was crouched down right in front of you, his mismatched eyes widening in genuine concern. “Whoa, hey, hey! What’s this?” he asked, tilting his head as he examined your tear-streaked face.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug—so sudden and fierce that it left you breathless for a second. “You can’t cry like this, Shrimpy. It doesn’t suit you,” he said, his voice unusually soft, though still carrying that familiar teasing edge.

Floyd squeezed you tighter, his long arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. “If things are bad, you should’ve just told me. I’d go squeeze the life outta Crowley for you—he deserves it.” He chuckled, but his grip didn’t loosen, like he was afraid you might fall apart if he let go.

He leaned back slightly, still holding you close. “You don’t gotta be strong all the time, you know? You’re my friend, and I don’t let my friends break down alone. So, whenever you feel like this, just come find me. I’ll squeeze the sadness right outta ya.” His words, though playful, carried a weight of sincerity that made your heart ache a little less.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil stood before you, his expression unreadable, though his eyes held a rare softness. “You’ve let yourself reach this point of exhaustion,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not your fault, but you shouldn’t have been forced to carry this burden alone.”

He knelt beside you, his touch gentle but firm as he took your hand. “You’ve been strong for so long, but even the strongest need time to recuperate. Don’t mistake vulnerability for weakness. It takes great strength to admit you need help.”

Vil brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “You’ve given so much of yourself, but now, it’s time to prioritize your own well-being. I won’t let you neglect yourself any longer. Remember, even a diamond can crack if too much pressure is applied.”

Rook Hunt

Rook’s eyes sparkled with emotion as he knelt gracefully beside you, his usual exuberance tempered by an uncharacteristic stillness. “Ah, mon ami, you have been carrying such a heavy heart all this time,” he whispered, his voice a melodic lilt.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch light, almost reverent. “To be in a world so foreign, surrounded by danger, yet still you’ve stood tall… such beauty in your strength. But even the most resilient soul must rest.”

Rook smiled warmly, leaning closer as if to share a secret. “Let us lift this burden from your shoulders, together. You are not alone. I, too, am by your side, always watching, always ready to catch you should you stumble.”

Epel Felmier

Epel crouched down next to you, his face tight with concern. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, not used to comforting others but determined nonetheless. “You shouldn’t have had to go through all this,” he muttered, his country drawl creeping into his voice. “Crowley’s a real piece of work, throwin’ all that on ya.”

He reached out, offering a hand in his own shy way. “You’ve been tougher than most, and I admire that. But that don’t mean you gotta keep it all bottled up. It’s okay to feel this way. We’re all here for ya, and I’m not lettin’ anyone mess with you anymore.”

Epel’s expression softened, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got us, so don’t think you’re alone in this. We’ll face it all together.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim immediately rushed to your side, concern written all over his face. “Oh no! You’ve been carrying all this by yourself? Why didn’t you tell me?” he exclaimed, kneeling down and grabbing your hands with both of his, his usual exuberance tempered by a rare sincerity.

He gave you a bright, reassuring smile. “You’ve been so strong for everyone else, but it’s okay to take a break. You don’t have to do everything alone—you’ve got us! And I promise, from now on, we’re all going to make sure you’re okay too.”

Kalim’s warm eyes sparkled with optimism. “Let’s go celebrate once you feel better! Something fun and happy—just to take your mind off everything. I’ll plan the best party ever, and you can just relax, okay?”

Jamil Viper

Jamil crouched down beside you, his dark eyes watching you carefully, as if assessing your every emotion. He sighed softly, his voice low and calm. “You’ve been under more pressure than anyone should have to deal with, and none of it was your fault.”

He rested a hand on your shoulder, his touch firm and grounding. “You shouldn’t have had to bear all this alone, but you don’t have to anymore. I understand what it’s like to carry more than you should.”

Jamil’s eyes softened, though his expression remained calm and composed. “From now on, you can rely on us. I won’t let things spiral out of control again, and I won’t let Crowley push you to your limits anymore. You deserve to take a step back and breathe.”

Idia Shroud

Idia stood awkwardly at a distance at first, his usual nervous fidgeting even more pronounced as he saw you breaking down. He hesitated before kneeling beside you, keeping his hands to himself. “I, uh… I get it,” he muttered, voice quieter than usual. “Feeling like the world’s too much to handle? Yeah, I’ve been there.”

He shifted uncomfortably but spoke with genuine understanding. “You’ve been through way more than anyone should. And, uh, it’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to act like everything’s fine all the time.”

Idia’s blue flames flickered a bit brighter as he added, “If you need to… y’know, not deal with everything, I’ve got games and stuff to help you chill out. No judgment. Just… take it easy, okay?”

Ortho Shroud

Ortho hovered closer, his usual upbeat tone shifting to something far more gentle. “You’ve done so much, and I know it’s been really hard on you,” he said softly, his mechanical voice somehow conveying warmth.

He floated down beside you, his small hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “But you’re not alone anymore! You’ve got big brother and me, and we’ll help you through everything. You don’t have to carry all this by yourself.”

Ortho gave you a bright smile, his eyes glowing softly. “Let me help you feel better! We can work together, and you can lean on us whenever you need to.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus approached you slowly, his imposing presence softened by the genuine concern in his eyes. He knelt gracefully beside you, his voice low and soothing. “You have been through much, more than anyone should bear. It is no wonder you feel as though the weight is too much.”

He extended a hand, his fingers brushing gently against your arm. “You are not alone in this world. I understand what it is to feel isolated, but you have friends, and you have me.”

Malleus’s gaze softened further, his voice almost a whisper. “I am here for you, as are the others. Rest now, and let us share in your burden. No harm shall come to you as long as I stand by your side.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia floated down beside you with a lightness that contrasted the gravity of the situation. His usual playful demeanor faded, replaced by quiet empathy. “Ah, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with affection. “You’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

He rested a hand gently on your head, giving it a comforting pat. “You’ve done well, more than anyone could have asked of you. But now, it’s time to let go of some of that burden. There’s no shame in needing help.”

Lilia smiled gently, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “You’re not alone, not anymore. We’ll protect you. You can lean on us when you need to.”

Silver

Silver knelt beside you, his calm eyes filled with quiet understanding. “You’ve been strong for a long time,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing. “But you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his touch steady and grounding. “It’s okay to let yourself feel overwhelmed. It doesn’t mean you’re weak—it means you’ve been through too much.”

Silver’s eyes softened as he spoke. “You have friends here, people who care about you. You can rely on us. I’ll be here, watching over you, so you can rest.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek approached you with his usual fervor but hesitated when he saw your tears. His sharp voice softened, though it still carried his typical intensity. “Human! You have been through much, but you must remember—you are not alone in this!”

He stood tall beside you, his green eyes blazing with determination. “You have shown strength, but it is not weak to ask for help! Lord Malleus would never allow you to suffer alone, and neither will I!”

Sebek crossed his arms, standing like a guardian at your side. “You are under the protection of Lord Malleus, and by extension, my protection! No harm will come to you now.”

Crowley

Crowley fluttered over, his usual flamboyant demeanor subdued as he saw your distress. “Ah, my dear prefect,” he began, wringing his hands nervously. “It seems that perhaps I’ve… placed more on your shoulders than I should have.”

He knelt beside you, his expression uncharacteristically somber. “You’ve done so much for this school, more than anyone could have asked of you. And for that, I owe you a great debt.”

Crowley’s voice softened, uncharacteristically sincere. “But now, it’s time for me to take some responsibility. You’ve more than earned your rest. From now on, I’ll make sure you have the support you need.”

Divus Crewel

Crewel knelt beside you, his sharp eyes softened with concern. “You’ve been through hell, pup,” he said, his voice low but firm. “And it’s no surprise that you’re feeling the strain.”

He reached out and adjusted your collar with practiced precision, as if he could fix your emotional state as easily as he could fix your appearance. “You’ve shown remarkable strength, but even the strongest need a break."

Crewel’s voice took on a more gentle tone as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not expected to bear the weight of the world on your own, pup. You’ve more than proven yourself, but now it’s time for you to let others shoulder some of that burden. I won’t allow anyone to exploit your loyalty or determination again.”

He straightened up, his steely demeanor still present but tempered with warmth. “You’ve got me in your corner now. If anyone dares push you to the brink again, they’ll have to deal with me. Understood?”

Mozus Trein

Trein approached slowly, his usual stern expression softened with concern as he adjusted his glasses. “You’ve been under undue stress, haven’t you?” he observed in his deep, calming voice. “No one should be forced to handle such pressure alone.”

He knelt beside you, his demeanor fatherly as he rested a hand on your arm. “This world has not been kind to you, I see that now. But you’ve handled it all with remarkable resilience. However, even the strongest minds and hearts need time to recover.”

Trein sighed deeply, his tone softening further. “I will ensure that you are given that time, without further demands placed on you. You’ve done more than enough.”

Ashton Vargas

Vargas came over with his usual boisterous energy, but seeing you in distress made him pause. His expression softened, and he knelt down beside you. “Hey, hey! What’s all this about, huh?” he said, his voice a bit gentler than usual. “You’ve been holding up the team for too long, I see. That’s a heavy weight, and it’s no wonder you’re feeling tired.”

He placed a strong, reassuring hand on your back. “You’re tougher than you think, but even the toughest need a break sometimes. You’ve done amazing—really! But now, it’s time to rest up and let others carry the load for a bit.”

Vargas smiled warmly, his usual energy tempered with sincerity. “You’ve earned it, champ. We’re not leaving you behind. We’ll get through this together.”

Sam

Sam quietly appeared beside you, his usual playful smile replaced by something softer, more caring. “Well now, looks like you’ve been carryin’ quite the burden, huh?” he said in his deep, smooth voice.

He crouched down next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder with a firm but gentle grip. “You’ve been strong for everyone else, but you can let that go for a bit. No shame in feelin’ overwhelmed.”

Sam’s eyes twinkled kindly, and he gave you a warm smile. “Remember, you’ve got friends, and we’re all here for you. Anytime you need a little pick-me-up, you know where to find me. No more carryin’ this all by yourself, alright?”

Grim

Grim strutted over, his ears twitching as he noticed the tears on your face. “Oi, what’s this?” he huffed, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly concerned. “You’re not supposed to be cryin’. You’re supposed to be tough, like me!”

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to handle the situation, before awkwardly patting your arm with his paw. “Uh... stop bein’ all sad, okay? You’ve been through a lot, but you’re still here, right? And that’s ‘cause you’ve got me, the Great Grim! I mean, you’re my henchhuman, so obviously you’re tough enough to handle anything!”

He puffed out his chest, trying to inject some of his usual bravado into the situation. “I’ll take care of things next time! No need to worry. Just... stop cryin’, alright? It’s weird. I’m supposed to be the one gettin’ pampered, not the other way around!”

Despite his tough words, Grim stayed by your side, his tail flicking nervously. “But, y’know, I guess... if you need to cry, that’s fine too. Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Masterlist

[seresinhangmanjake]

kind of an angsty prompt, reader is one of feyd’s more “unpopular” concubines, never actually having been acknowledged by him and as a result is treated pretty badly since she is seen as “undesirable”. but one day when house harkonnen is having a celebration and other houses are invited, she catches the attention of paul atreides, who is desperate to take her as his own. the baron concedes, since feyd doesn’t pay her any attention, but over the years feyd gets to know more about her personality and falls for her, as she has more power as paul’s sole concubine and can assert herself much better than when she was his. kinda a “didn’t know what you had till you lost it situation”.

The Only One

Feyd-Rautha x concubine!reader

Warnings/Notes: I made it a little bit different, so I hope that's ok. The chronology of this is all messed up from the movies. People are alive who wouldn’t be, but just go with it. People being owned. Feyd is grumpy boy. Slight smut, so 18+. Angsty-ish, but lighter ending. Cursing.

Words: 3300

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Your mother once told you that love was wonderful. Just like that. Simple words, as if factual, as if love were so stunningly special that it didn’t need flowery language to prove it’s worth. Love is wonderful and one day you will see so for yourself. That’s what she said. But what did she know, really. She was a blip in the universe who promised you would partake in an experience that has done you more harm and little good. This love she spoke of—you’ve seen it. Worse, you’ve felt it. And it is nothing like she described. It has been anything but wonderful. 

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen does not love you. In fact, if he were to love at all, you wouldn’t even make the list of potential receivers of that love. There are many in line before you. Three, to be exact—his harpies. Were he capable of love, he would love them. They are the ones he visits in the night, not you. They are the ones he keeps at his side, not you. Like you, they are owned by him, but unlike you, they are paraded around while you are cast aside. 

You don’t know why he claimed you if he was never going to use you. He declared you a concubine—effectively forbidding any hands other than his on your body—only to leave you untouched for the better part of a year. Untouched. Unloved, in every sense of the word. 

Perhaps it is because you are not like them. You’re not from Giedi Prime and you fumbled to learn their customs, and maybe that was too unattractive. Maybe all he saw in you was a fool failing to adjust to the life he leads, and maybe he could not look past that to see how hard you were trying for him. 

Since you became his property, all you’ve wanted is for him to like you. Not even reciprocate the love you harbor, but simply enjoy your presence and come to you every once in a while rather than allowing the harpies to tend to him. It doesn’t seem like too much to hope for, but you know better. He doesn’t care for you. He paid no attention to you as your heart attached itself to him, and yet it attached with mighty strength anyway. 

You’ve stopped pretending like you don’t know where that leaves you. For some time, you played the mental game. He could grow to love me…one day. If only he paid me a second of attention, he would see my devotion and realize I'm what he’s always wanted. Fairytale stuff used to deflect your fate. But you know your fate, and it isn’t a life by the side of the cruel-hearted man you've come to love. It’s a life alone. 

—

“Care for a drink?” you hear. 

Without looking in the direction of the voice, you say, “No, thank you,” having been taught that as the sole acceptable answer to a man’s advances. No, because you belong to him. Thank you, because rudeness can start wars. 

“You’ve been standing here all night,” the voice continues. “You have to be thirsty.”

He must know who you are by now. The Hakonnens have hosted grand events before, and you’ve always been present. If the men who have approached you in the past did not know who owned you, they would learn rather quickly. A word from a nearby guard and a glance into Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s glare and those men would back off. 

You look Feyd’s way. He’s busy with the harpies. No glare in sight.

“My House brought our finest wines. I can guarantee you would enjoy a taste.”

You can barely hold back your groan. Your head whips in the direction of the voice. “Thank you, but–” You cut yourself off with a gasp.

Paul Atreidies chuckles. The emperor chuckles. “Bring her a glass,” he says to a Harkonnen servant. The servant hesitates for a second, which only you seem to detect. He has no choice but to obey the emperor, yet doing so may cost him his life. Yet, he heads off, disappearing into the crowd toward the refreshments.

“I apologize,” you say as you bow your head in shame. 

His finger crooks under your chin and lifts so your eyes have to meet his. “A pretty face should never be to the ground. Even a concubine’s.”

“You know who I am.”

“Of course I do,” he says. “I’ve seen you before.”

You flush with embarrassment. If he’s noticed you before, then he’s noticed you alone before, standing in this exact spot against the wall. And if he’s noticed you and is willing to talk to you, then he likely pities you. To have the emperor’s pity—a gift or a sign of weakness?

The servant returns, handing you a glass half filled with a deep maroon liquid. Paul Atreides lifts his own glass and clinks it against yours. The rim meets his lips. He takes his sip and then smiles as he watches you do the same. 

He raises a brow. “Good?” You nod. “Good. Would you like more?”

“No,” you reply after hastily swallowing. “Thank you.”

He grins again and then turns so you’re shoulder to shoulder, staring out into the mass of mingling bodies. “I don’t enjoy these,” he says. “My birthdays are more intimate affairs.”

You don’t know what he’s getting at, but insulting the birthday of the Baron’s most promising nephew makes your stomach drop. Were the man beside you not the emperor, and had anyone overheard him, he would have a blade run through him by the end of the night. 

“What good is spending your birthday with people you do not love and who do not love you?” he says, and with great restraint, you keep from spitting that a Harkonnen cannot love and so it makes no difference to them who is around. Then he says, “You know, I could make sure you always have plenty.” 

When you look at him, his head nudges to the glass in your hand. Your heart thumps. “I–I don’t understand what you mean,” you tell him, hoping that what you think you understand from his words is wildly incorrect. 

“You could be mine,” he tells you. “I would like for you to be mine. I would actually touch you, unlike him.” Unlike the man whose neglect has rendered you useless. 

“Surely your wife would not be pleased.”

“She’s used to it,” he says. You didn’t know what else you expected. You’ve heard of the famous Chani. “I intend to ask the Baron for you. Out of politeness, of course.” Because he could just take you if he wanted. He is the emperor, after all. But rudeness… “Would you like that?”

Not unless you like being separated from the organ that keeps your body alive. But then again, that organ has been mutilated to the point that not much else could damage it. 

Your eyes dart to Feyd. He’s watching you from his seat across the room, his blue irises darkened. He cannot do anything about the closeness of Paul Atreides. He wouldn’t, you know, but if he wanted to, he couldn’t. A harpy runs her hand across his cheek. A lump forms in your throat. You look away. 

“I think I would,” you answer. 

—

“He can’t have her!” 

You can hear him through the grand doors. You’re not supposed to be here, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know his reaction to you leaving, but you didn’t expect this. You figured he’d send a servant to pack up your belongings and set them by the entrance of the fortress right before shoving you outside with his own two hands. 

“He can,” the Baron says. Something crashes against a wall. Its pieces clink as they hit the ground. 

“She belongs to me! She’s mine!” Feyd shouts. “She–”

“You don’t use her. She’s no great loss to you. If the harpies are insufficient, you can find another elsewhere, but this one now belongs to the Emperor.”

“He's forcing her,” Feyd says. “He's stealing her from me!”

You wonder if anyone other than Paul Atreides knows the truth: that you were offered a chance to leave and have decided to take it. You’re not being stolen. The Emperor did not remove the collar around your neck simply to replace it with one of his own. He asked; you said yes. 

“She agreed,” the Baron answers, effectively ending your curiosity. It shocks you, not seeming like information necessary for an Emporer to tell one of his subjects. “Not that it matters,” he says, and you agree. 

“Make him give her back to me!”

“I’m not interested in increasing tensions between our Houses over some concubine, nephew. Find yourself a new one.”

You know he will. It won’t take him long, and he might actually put his hands on this one. You ignore the clench in your stomach at the thought of his touch on someone other than the harpies. Maybe she would be more like you—color to her cheeks, hair on her head. You hope you never meet her. It’ll make you sick. It would mean it really has been you. All this time, you were the problem. You were the defective one. Only you weren’t worth his attention.

When presence enters your space, you know it’s time. You face the Kaitainian guard, and he turns. You follow him away from Feyd. 

—

Feyd POV - One Year Later

You carry yourself differently around him. Your back is straighter, chin higher. You keep your hands clasped in front of you at all times. Feyd never made you stand like that, like someone shoved a stick down the back of your dress—your dress, which he hates. 

If you’re going to be dolled up like a present on his birthday, the least his cousin could’ve done was wrap you in colors he likes. Some silver chain or thick, black leather. Not this shimmery golden, flowy fabric of another planet. 

It pisses him off. Showing up in Paul’s clothes, doing your hair up as they do in Kaitain instead of letting it loose around your shoulders, standing as Paul wants you to stand—all of it is like a stamp on the memory of you being taken from him. 

You’re changed, but you no less belong to Feyd than you did before. The real you is still in this new woman somewhere, and he intends to bring you back. 

He’s been planning it for a year. It took him time to gain enough trust from his uncle to be granted full rein of the Harkonnen armies, but all he had to do was prove his ruthlessness and wait until his brother showed himself for the fool he is, and now he has a footing in Arrakis. Complete control over spice production, which he can manipulate from right under his uncle’s nose. Something Paul Atreides wants. 

—

Reader POV

The second he returns from his meeting with Paul, you can feel him. Watching you. Staring. Drinking you in. You try your best to ignore it, but you can’t help but wonder what he sees when he looks at you now. You’re not the same. For a year, you haven’t lived the life Feyd-Rautha made for you, and in that year, you’ve been exposed to the antithesis of that life. Finer clothes, better food, maidservants of your own, physical touch. You’re treated with kindness, and you have been used as you are meant to be used. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you are any more loved on Kaitain than you were on Giedi Prime. That place is for Chani. She permanently resides in the eye of the emperor, and you, just off to the side. But you’ve come to accept your reality. You’ve made your peace with never being someone’s first choice. What you haven’t made your peace with is Feyd. 

You wish you could say otherwise, but you still have those feelings stirring inside of you. Love, that even after another year of contemplation, you still don’t understand. He never gave you reason to love him. But you couldn’t help yourself. Watching him from a distance was enough. You fell in love with a man you witnessed show leniency and a form of kindness to women who weren’t you while imagining yourself in their place. It was, and is, pathetic. Yet, you continue to love him. And now you’re seeing him again, and he’s just as beautiful. 

You sneak a glance at him. His eyes are still on you. He’s alone, no harpies to his left or right. Your eyes scan the room. No harpies anywhere.

“Are you alright?” Paul asks as he comes from behind you to be at your side. 

“Yes.” No.

Paul takes a sip of his drink. “I know it must be awkward, but are you enjoying the party? I cannot tell by the look on your face.”

“I am.” You’re not. 

In your peripherals, you see him nod. “I have…” he sighs. When you look at him, his head is tipped downward. 

“You always say beauty should not face the floor,” you tell him. 

“I do,” he says with a smile, lifting his head. He takes a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.” An immediate sense of dread fills your gut. “He’s asked for you back.”

Your body freezes, and then your heart begins to thump against the wall of your chest. It pounds with the ferocity of a hundred drums, almost painful in its desperation for freedom, escape. “And?”

Paul’s eyes find yours. You see the silent apology. “I’ve agreed.”

“What!” is a hushed burst of air. You can’t draw attention to yourself, but you know if anyone is already looking your way, the mask of indifference you’re trying to keep on your face won’t fool them.  

“I’m sorry. He offered me something I cannot refuse.” 

You don’t have to ask if that something is truly more than your worth. By the sight of the emperor, it is worth more than ten times your value to him, and you can’t stand in your spot anymore. Your composure is being chiseled away at by the second, but this is not the place to fall apart. The emperor says your name and for the first time, you don’t respond as you walk off. 

Knowing your way around the place, you find a secluded corner just outside the doors of the grand room. Your breathing is uncontrollable. His. You’re going to be his…again. Or you already are. It sounded as if the deal had been made, signed, and done with. You’re not leaving Giedi Prime at the end of the night. You’re not going back to luxury, comfort. You’re staying put. Once again, ignored and treated as a useless object. Once again, a low member on the list of those Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen wants. 

Suddenly, a stream of light blinds you, the muffled voices rise in clarity, and then both are gone. No light. Dimmed voices. You blink. Feyd is in front of you. 

Scoffing, you say, “What do you want?”

He stares at you some more—a long interlude that makes your nerves wiggly under your skin. Then he walks, he enters your space, he puts his hands on your cheeks, and he kisses you. 

The very first kiss. And you wish it was awful. You wish it didn’t send a zingy shiver down your spine or raise the hair on your arms, but your body doesn’t feel like your own as his lips meld with yours. You’re simply along for the ride, taking what he’s giving. 

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours. “I should’ve kissed you before,” he says through a ragged breath. “You’re so fucking sweet.” And then he goes in for another kiss. Another kiss that you don’t return because you’re too stunned to do so. 

Coming to your senses, you plant your hands firmly on his chest and shove. He stumbles. The surprise of it doesn’t last long. 

“Don’t,” he snaps. “You’re mine again.”

“Why did you do this?” you spit. 

“I never should have been forced to lose you,” he tells you, but you don’t really hear him as your words continue to tumble out of your mouth at a rapid rate. 

“You don’t need me. I’m a waste to you. You never touched me–”

“I didn’t want to ruin you,” he says. “That’s why–”

“You only touched them–”

“Because you were something pure.”

That, you do hear. “Pure!” you shout. “You liked me pure? If so, then you’ve wasted trading whatever you had to have me back. I’m not pure anymore. And do you know why?”

Feyd’s blue irises darken a shade. “Stop.”

“Because I was his,” you say, a whimper in your throat as you reminisce about the ease of the past year of your life. “And he actually used me.”

“Stop!” He grabs your arm. You fight his grip, but it’s a waste of energy—he’s too strong for you—and then you’re being pulled into the closest room. He tries to press his lips to yours and in that moment of vulnerability, you’re able to pull yourself free from his grasp. 

“Don’t you dare! Go to your harpies.”

“They’re dead,” he says, reaching for you again. You leap back, but he manages to catch you. He pulls you close and your chest slams into his. 

“Why?” you say as you struggle, your body wiggling in the circle of his arms. 

“I killed them when you were taken from me.”

Your spine goes rigid. You blanch. “W-Why?”

Feyd groans as if he’s tired of you playing stupid, as if he’s tired of you wasting his time on ridiculous questions with obvious answers. “Because you made them tolerable. I thought of you whenever I had them, but then you were gone, and I couldn’t think about you without thinking I was never going to have you.”

Your lungs lock in all oxygen, and suddenly, against your will, a crack splits the hard shell of your anger. It’s not so simple to believe what he says. That he always wanted you? That you were too precious for him to touch? You think it’s more likely your appeal increased when he lost control over you, but his words are distracting, too much to comprehend in the limited time you have before he’s kissing you again. This time, you soften in his hold. You kiss him back. 

Your hands slide up his chest to the back of his neck. His mouth moves to your cheek, your jawline, your neck. He bites down on sensitive flesh. His touch trails down your spine, over the swell of your bottom to your thighs, and he lifts you up. 

It’s a few steps to the foreign bed. On your back, you yank up the skirt of your dress as he rips his shirt off and undoes the fasteners of his pants. He pulls them down just enough to free himself. His arms curl under your knees. He jerks your body to the end of the bed. One hand goes to your waist. The other pumps his member twice before he guides himself inside of you. 

It’s not like Paul. Not even close. Thicker. Longer. You watch Feyd where you didn’t watch Paul. Through your own pleasure, you examine his. The pinch of his brow. The parting of his lips. The breath that leaves them—it’s heavy and yet soft. The way he stares at you. Always staring. 

You love him. 

“You will be the only one,” he says. He leans down to connect your lips. “The only one.”

[steveseddie]

sweet as pumpkin pie

steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,1 k | cw: none | tags: dustin & steve, dustin & eddie, eddie knows how to bake, steve has a crush, getting together, first kiss, steve pov

for @steddie-spooktober day twenty-four, prompt “pumpkin” 

read on ao3

Pounding at the door has Steve scrambling to his feet and hurtling towards the front door. He glances at Eddie on the couch and is relieved to find he’s still napping soundly, unbothered by the noise. 

Steve doesn’t want him to wake up, not when Eddie showed up an hour earlier looking exhausted after nightmares kept him up all night. The last thing Steve wants is for Eddie to lose any more sleep because whoever is at the door grows impatient and knocks harder. 

So he fumbles with the lock and swings the door open to reveal–

“Dustin?”  

“Steve, we have an emergency!” Henderson shrieks, his loud volume making Steve flinch.

His annoyance is immediately replaced by worry as the kid’s words register. His body tenses up, his fingers itch for his nail bat. “An Upside Down emergency?” 

“Worse!” Dustin says. Steve’s stomach churns and he feels sick. He tries to think what could be worse than an Upside Down emergency– “A baking emergency!” He finishes before Steve can spiral. 

He blinks at him. “A baking–” he starts in incredulity. “Henderson! Jesus fucking Christ, man.” He reaches over and flicks his stupid Thinking Cap. 

“What?” Dustin protests, swatting Steve’s hand away.

“That’s not worse than an Upside Down emergency! Nothing is worse than an Upside Down emergency!”

“Fine, but it’s up there,” Dustin argues stubbornly.

“Whatever,” Steve says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wishes Eddie was awake so that they could share an exasperated look. “What’s the matter, shithead?”

“You know my mom isn’t home this week, right?”

“Yeah, she’s visiting family or something.” She told Steve as much when she called and asked him to keep an eye on her Dusty. 

“Right, well, the science club is in charge of the baking sale this week and she volunteered to bring something, but she forgot it was this week!” 

Steve blinks at him, failing to see what the problem is. “So? She left you money, right? Just buy some cupcakes at Melvald’s and bring those.”

Dustin gasps, affronted. “Steve, it’s a bake sale! Not a store-bought sale!”

“Things at stores were baked at some point too, butthead,” Steve argues, but Dustin keeps looking at him like he’s being stupid. “Geez, fine, what do you want me to do about it anyway?”

“I need you to bake me something, duh.”

Steve snorts. “Sure, yeah, I’d love to, except I don’t know how to bake.”

Dustin frowns. “Bullshit! You cook for us all the time!”

“Yeah, cook like actual food, not pies and shit,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the door.

“It’s the same thing!”

Steve thinks back on the time he tried to bake brownies for Nancy and how he almost burned his house down in the process. “It’s so not,” he says in a bitchy tone. 

Dustin groans, scrubbing his hands down his face. “But Steve, I need a pie!”

“Sorry, kid, you’re gonna have to ask someone else. Maybe Mrs. Wheeler or–”

“I can do it.”

Both of their heads snap towards the living room entrance where Eddie stands, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

Christ, he’s cute, Steve thinks, and immediately feels his cheeks heat up. He hopes Eddie is still too groggy from sleep to notice. “Do what, Eds?” 

“Make Henderson a pie,” Eddie says, waving his hand at the kid. 

Dustin blinks at him with wide eyes. “You know how to bake a pie?” 

“Yup.”

Steve finds himself asking, “How?” 

Eddie snorts amusedly. “We have ovens in the trailer park too, rich boy,” he snarks but his words lack any heat. “Though I might have to borrow yours for this, ours hasn’t worked since the turkey incident of ‘84.”

Dustin and Steve exchange a look, equally shocked by what they’re hearing. 

“So,” Eddie goes on, clapping his hands together. “What kind of pie do you need, Henderson?” He asks as slides his Reeboks on, which he left by Steve’s door when he showed up. “Cherry, pumpkin, apple?”

“Uh, pumpkin?”

Eddie flashes him a dimpled grin. “My favorite,” he says, grabbing his car keys from the table at the entrance. “Let’s go then, shrimp.”

“I thought you were gonna make it here,” Steve says, confused by Eddie leaving.

“Gotta go shopping first, Stevie,” Eddie explains, van keys spinning around his finger. “And I gotta dust off the old recipe, it’s been a while since I used it.”

“Ugh, but I hate grocery shopping!” Dustin whines, earning a smack on the back of his head from Eddie.

“It’s your pie, Henderson. Suck it up.” 

Dustin scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie turns to Steve, batting his long eyelashes at him. “You mind cleaning the oven for me in the meantime, sweetheart?”

Steve should protest that he didn’t agree to help, but with Eddie’s big doe eyes staring at him like that and him calling him sweetheart, all he can muster is a weak, “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie grins, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he grabs the back of Dustin’s neck and pushes him towards his van. “Be back in a few, honey!” He calls back to Steve. “And then we’re baking a pie!”

Steve watches them go and closes the door once the pair gets in the van. 

He’s in the kitchen, ready to clean his oven for Eddie when his words register in Steve’s brain.

“Wait– we?”

***

Eddie and Dustin come back an hour later, carrying everything they need. 

Dustin dumps his bags on the counter and immediately tries to retreat to the living room but Eddie moves faster. He grabs onto the handle of his backpack, pulling him to an abrupt stop, Dustin’s limbs flailing like a puppet on strings. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, tugging Henderson back into the kitchen. “I told you, it’s your pie so you’re helping.”

“But my mom never forces me to help!” He protests, trying to shrug off his backpack to escape. 

Eddie wraps an arm around his neck instead. 

“Yeah, well. Your mom is a saint, I’m not,” he says, letting him go once Dustin stops struggling and handing him a whisk and a list of ingredients for him to mix. 

Begrudgingly, Dustin accepts them and sets off to work on making the filling while Eddie and Steve work on the crust. 

Steve has to focus really hard on following Eddie’s instructions correctly. Not because the instructions are particularly complicated or anything, mostly it’s just ‘add this’ or ‘measure that’ or ‘hand me those’. It’s because Eddie is very distracting like this– with his hair tied in a messy bun, the sleeves of his flannel rolled over his forearms, flour smeared on his face.

And then there’s the familiarity with which he moves around Steve’s kitchen after spending so much time here, helping Steve cook or just keeping him company. And the confidence with which he measures, mixes, and adds ingredients, or tells Steve to do it. 

Steve always had a thing for competence. It’s why he was so attracted to Nancy, whether she was getting all of her chemistry flashcard questions right or shooting monsters in the face. It’s why he started crushing on Robin after she cracked that Russian code. Steve knows that if he had been there when Eddie played the most metal concert ever, and he had seen him shredding his guitar the way Dustin describes it, he would’ve been too busy drooling over him to fight Vecna. 

Eddie knowing how to make a pumpkin pie from scratch is no different– and if it weren’t for Dustin, Steve probably would’ve already pinned Eddie against the kitchen counter to sloppily make out with him. 

For now, Steve tries his best to pay attention to what Eddie asks him to do and not get distracted by thoughts of kissing him or dragging him upstairs or–

He realizes he fails when Eddie has to smear flour on his nose to get his attention. 

“Hey,” Steve protests weakly, going cross-eyed trying to stare at the white powder on his nose.

Eddie chuckles. “There you are, I’ve been talking to you for like, five minutes.” 

“Oh.” Steve must’ve gotten distracted staring at Eddie’s arms as he expertly kneaded the dough and rolled it into balls. He glances down at the counter and realizes he’s done already. Then he glances around the kitchen and notices it’s just the two of them. 

“Where’s Henderson?”

“Well, the filling is ready and we have to leave these babies in the fridge for two hours,” he says, holding up one of the dough balls. “So I sent him to pick a movie for us to watch in the meantime.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve says, wondering how he could’ve been so deep in thought that he missed all of that happening. He grabs one of the dough balls while Eddie grabs the other one, following him to the fridge. “Do we need this much pie crust?” He asks as Eddie opens the door. 

“I thought we could make two pies so I doubled the recipe. Henderson can take one and we can have the other,” Eddie says, sticking the dough in the fridge. “That way you can try it and I can take some back to Wayne. I don’t think we’ve had any homemade pumpkin pie since my mom died.”

Steve hums. “Is this her recipe?”

The smile Eddie gives Steve over his shoulder is a little sad. “Yeah, she taught me how to make it years ago.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” Steve says softly, knocking their shoulders together. 

Eddie spins on his heels, leaning back against the fridge. “I just hope I didn’t fuck it up, it’s been a while,” he chuckles, hanging a hand from his neck. 

Steve shrugs. “You can always blame me. Or Dustin.”

Eddie throws his head back, laughing. There’s a streak of flour on his neck and Steve has to fight the urge to clean it up with his tongue. “Nah, Stevie, you two are doing a great job,” Eddie says with a dimpled grin, “even the kid with his fucking attitude.”

Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. “Right? You’d think he’s doing us a favor.”

“Entitled little shit,” Eddie mutters, but the corners of his mouth tick up.

From the living room, Dustin yells at them, his voice dripping with annoyance. “You guys are gonna watch the movie or what?” 

Steve and Eddie share a look and start laughing. 

***

Two hours later the two of them are back in the kitchen, rolling out the pie crust. 

Or at least, Eddie is. Steve keeps messing it up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters as he screws it up again. “You know what? You do it.”

“Come on, Stevie, it’s not that hard,” Eddie says, knocking his bony hip against Steve’s. 

Whatever protest Steve is about to make dies in his throat when Eddie leaves his perfectly rolled-out pie crust and moves to stand behind him, pressing his body against Steve and Steve’s body against the counter, his arms wrapping around him so he can guide his hands on the rolling pin. 

“You gotta start at the center and work outwards,” Eddie says, speaking into Steve’s ear as he shows him how to do it. Steve can barely focus on anything that isn’t the entire length of Eddie’s body pressed against him. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Christ,” Steve mutters. Eddie’s words whispered lowly into his ear are making Steve’s head swim with all kinds of ideas. It’s a good thing that Eddie seems oblivious to it. 

“Now you do it,” Eddie says, letting go of Steve’s hands and holding Steve’s waist instead. 

Steve’s movements are a little jerky, but he manages to finish rolling out the pie crust successfully, even with Eddie standing behind him the entire time. 

“Great job, Stevie,” Eddie says, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder to look down at the counter. 

Steve makes the mistake of turning his head, leaving their faces only a few inches away from each other. Steve’s breath hitches and his heart starts jackhammering against his ribcage. It feels like it might explode out of his chest when he notices Eddie’s eyes unmistakably flicker down to his lips. 

And of course, that’s when Dustin comes barreling into the kitchen. 

“Are you guys done?” He asks, his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. 

Steve drops the rolling pin and Eddie jumps back a few steps. Dustin’s eyes dart curiously between the two. 

Eddie clears his throat. “We’d be done sooner if you helped us,” he says, his voice coming out a little strangled. 

Dustin gives them an innocent look, eyes wide like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. “But you're doing such a great job, Eddie.” 

Eddie doesn’t fall for it. He snorts, throwing a kitchen cloth at his face. “Shoo, you gremlin!”

He doesn’t wait for Eddie to tell him twice, hurtling towards the living room. Steve watches in silence as Eddie carefully places the pie crust on the pan and pours the filling Dustin made.

“Now we wait?” Steve asks once both pies are inside the preheated oven. 

“Now we wait,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve. His eyes catch on something and then he reaches out to wipe flour from Steve’s cheek, his thumb lingering on his cheekbone for a second too long. 

His eyes flicker to Steve’s lips one last time before he goes to join Dustin in the living room. 

***

“I present to you," Eddie starts, spinning around on his heels, holding the pie in his hands, “your pumpkin pie, my good sir.”

Dustin grins, letting out something between a laugh and a snort. “Dude, it looks so good!”

“I told you I could bake,” Eddie says, grinning smugly. 

“Hey, we helped,” Steve says with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie sets the pie down on the counter so he can crowd Steve against it. “Oh, I know, baby, I could never have done it without you.”

Heat builds up in Steve’s cheeks. It’s a good thing that Eddie gets distracted by Dustin rounding the counter and wrapping his arms around his middle in an unexpected hug. “Thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie ruffles Dustin’s curls. “You’re welcome, kid.”

Before Steve can protest once again that he helped, thank you very much, Dustin lets go of Eddie and hugs Steve too. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Of course, buddy.”

“I’ll tell Mom to have you both over for dinner when she comes back,” he says, adjusting his Thinking Cap. 

“Hell yeah,” Eddie says, licking his lips like he’s already tasting Mrs. Henderson’s cooking. “You just earned yourself a drive home, mister.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, no way I’m letting you ruin my–” Steve clears his throat, “ our pie by taking it home on your bike.” He grabs Dustin’s shoulders, and once the kid grabs the pie, he steers him in the direction of the front door. “I’ll come back to help you clean up,” he tells Steve over his shoulder. 

“You better.”

With a wink, they disappear through the kitchen archway, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts. 

And he can’t help but think about Eddie– his eyes on Steve’s lips, his thumb softly brushing over Steve’s cheekbone, his chest pressed against Steve’s back. 

He forces himself to start cleaning up, just so he can stay busy and not drive himself crazy thinking about what might happen when Eddie comes back, now that Dustin won’t be here. 

He’s elbow-deep in rinsing water when he hears the front door open, followed by Eddie’s whistling as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” he says, waltzing in, “I told you I’d help!” 

Without turning around, Steve shrugs. “Grab a cloth, you can help me dry.”

He hears a cabinet open and close as Eddie presumably looks for a clean kitchen cloth but when he appears next to Steve, he’s got a plate with a slice of pumpkin pie on it. 

Steve purses his lips. “That’s not a kitchen towel,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Nope, but I couldn’t wait to try it,” he says, leaning back on the counter, facing Steve. 

Steve gives the slice of pie a pointed look. “Well?”

Eddie grabs a forkful of pie and shoves it into his mouth while Steve stares expectantly at him, waiting for his reaction. It comes in the way of a sinful moan that makes Steve want to shove his head into the water to stop the heat from creeping up his cheeks. 

“I- uh,” he clears his throat, “I take it we didn’t fuck it up?”

Eddie licks his lips, and Steve’s hands tighten around the bowl he was rinsing. “Nop, it’s perfect. Just like my mama used to make it.”

Steve smiles at Eddie’s smug little tilt of his head as he shoves another forkful into his mouth. 

“Hey, I wanna try it too,” he says, nudging Eddie’s side with his elbow. 

He expects Eddie to feed him some pie since his hands are still under the rinsing water and it’s probably what Eddie intends to do, he scoops some pie up with his fork–

But then he hesitates.

His eyes dart over Stece’s face, searching for something. He either finds it or gives up, dropping the fork back onto the plate and placing it on the counter next to him. 

Steve cocks his head, puppy-like, but before he can get a word out, Eddie grabs his cheeks and kisses Steve square on the lips. 

He instinctively kisses back– or does his best to do so considering his hands are still in the water. He moves his lips against Eddie’s and when Eddie laps at his bottom lip, Steve opens his mouth, letting Eddie’s tongue slide inside. 

He tastes like pumpkin pie, is Steve’s first coherent thought, followed by– holy shit, I’m kissing Eddie.

It’s that realization that makes Steve retrieve his hands from the sink, dripping water all over the floor, to wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. He kisses him more deeply, chasing after that taste of pumpkin pie, and smoke, and cinnamon, and Eddie. 

They pull back when they finally need to come up for air but stay wrapped up in each other. 

Steve’s eyes dip down to Eddie’s lips, red and slick with spit. He hears them moving but realizes he didn’t hear whatever Eddie said from the blood still rushing through his ears. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “I said, what did you think of the pie?” 

“Oh, um. Good, it’s–” Steve licks his lips. “It’s good.” 

Eddie’s mouth twitches with a hint of a smirk. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm but, uh, I think I need– I need to give it another try, you know?” Steve stammers out, watching as Eddie’s eyes go a little dark at that. He licks his lips and Steve does his best not to let out a whine. 

“Come here then, pumpkin,” Eddie says, pulling Steve forward, mashing their lips together. 

Neither of them points out it would be easier for Steve to grab a forkful of pie– they’re too busy chasing after the taste of it on each other’s mouths to even try. 

[floralcyanide]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day one ⛧ cockwarming

Cillian Murphy x Reader

A routine Zoom call between you, Cillian, and his parents gets a little interesting.

warnings: smut, cockwarming, penetrative sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, milking, unprotected sex

word count: 930

author's note: welcome to day one of kinktober! I'm so excited for this year and can't wait to write as much for this challenge as possible. I was going to have weeks planned out, but fell ill with pneumonia, so I'm two whole weeks behind. hopefully I'll complete the challenge! fingers crossed. if I don't, there's always next year! I hope everyone enjoys!! feedback is always appreciated (: (keep in mind most of the kinktober works will be short.)

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

When Cillian tells you to pull up your dress upon entering his office, you expect him to drop to his knees before you. Instead, he waves you over to where he’s sitting on his desk chair, motioning for you to sit on his lap. You look at him, confused for a moment, before doing as he wordlessly asked. You can feel Cillian fumble his hands behind you, his cold watch brushing against the warm skin of your tailbone that’s exposed from your lifted dress. You hear his zipper come undone, and that’s when you realize what he’s wanting. Cillian adjusts you on his lap so you’re hovering, and he aligns his length with your clothed entrance, teasing your clit through your underwear. He pushes the fabric to the side with his fingers, allowing his tip to brush against your wetness. You slowly push yourself onto him, and Cillian guides himself into you at a snail’s pace. You aren’t quite wet enough yet, so he takes his time. Once he’s wholly sheathed inside your warmth, Cillian grabs your hips so you can’t move.

“What are you doing?” you half laugh, half ask curiously.

“I want you to just sit here and be a good girl, alright?”

“That’s kind of hard with you inside me, Cill.”

“You can do it, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You shiver at his words as you watch him fiddle with his computer, opening Zoom. You gulp nervously and hope he isn’t about to have a sort of meeting while you’re warming his cock. You aren’t sure what you’d do if you had to act normal while Cillian’s thick, now-throbbing length is being squeezed by your walls. 

But something even worse happens- Cillian opens Zoom with his parents. You forgot it’s Sunday, which is the day he usually calls them. You gulp down your nervousness, trying to appear presentable.

“Oh, hi!” you grin at the sight of his mother popping up on the screen, trying not to react to how Cillian’s fingernails are digging into the delicate skin of where your hips meet your thighs.

“How are you, darling?” his mother asks sweetly.

Cillian thrusts into you, disguising it as a minor shifting in his chair, and you have to clear your throat to stifle a moan, “I’m well, thanks! And you?”

“Oh, we’re just fine,” CIllian’s father chimes in, “Taking good care of my son, I see?”

“Of course,” you nod your head, rubbing your palm along Cillian’s thigh out of sight, “He’s being a good boy as always.” you joke.

Cillian rolls his hips slowly, causing your hand to pause its movements and your nails to dig into his slacks. He then engages in conversation with his father as you maintain a healthy combo of eye contact with his parents and looking at Cillian behind you.

“Are you sitting on his lap, dear? Are there no chairs in his office?” Cillian’s mom asks out of the blue, a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Still no extra chairs or furniture in here,” you poke Cillian’s cheek, “I’ve been telling him ever since we moved in, Mrs. Murphy.”

“Stubborn old thing,” his mother scolds playfully, “A new home needs its furniture!”

You begin to feel restless on Cillian’s cock, wishing for nothing more than to fuck him senseless. You want to end the call, spin around, and bounce on him for hours. But of course, until he gives the word, you can’t move.

“Well, we were just checking in to see how you were doing. We best be headed off now; love you,” Cillian waves to his parents.

They wave back, bidding farewells before Cillian ends the call. Silence fills the room, and all that can be properly heard is the sound of your ragged breathing.

“Please,” you whimper, “Let me move.”

“Then move.”

You shakily raise your hips until Cillian is almost outside you before slamming back down, your thighs hitting his. He lets out a strangled moan, hands gripping your sides tightly. 

“I’ve been wanting to teach you a lesson,” Cillian says through gritted teeth, letting you slowly lift and lower yourself along his cock, “About patience.”

“Lesson learned, then,” you sigh, spinning around to face Cillian, “I hear you loud and clear.”

You grab his cheeks as you pick up your pace of bouncing on his length, gaining a nice and steady rhythm. Cillian looks at you with glazed-over eyes, his tongue darting from his mouth to run over his lips. 

“Was the lesson worth it? Or was the patience killing you more than me?” you smirk.

“I'm not sure. There were times I wanted to take you over the desk on the call.”

“Really?” you wonder, “Maybe next time.”

“Not when on the phone, though,” Cillian warns.

“Alright,” you sigh, swiveling your hips around as your orgasm creeps into your stomach.

“Gonna cum,” Cillian mumbles lazily, thrusting himself into you in time with your movements.

“Please do, I’ve been waiting,” you pout.

Cillian twitches inside you, spilling his seed deep inside your cunt as you ride through your own impending release. Cillian lets you fuck yourself as much as you please despite his overstimulation, letting you milk him as your walls clench from your orgasm. You stop moving, catching your breath as Cillian watches you compose yourself.

“Definitely worth the wait,” you gasp, pushing hair from your face.

“Agreed,” Cillian exhales, leaning back in his chair.

“Can I stay here, though?” 

“On me?”

“Yes.”

Cillian pauses, weighing the pros and cons of you warming him as he does some emailing, “Fine.”

taglist:

@cillianswifefr @ins0mniac-whack @multifans-things @no-fooking-fighting @mypoisonedvine @madnessandobsession @Daviddeu @tiredkitten @lolabunny222 @gimmefood @preparedfruit @thecherrycocktail @thequeenoftheisleofavalon @lilyembry @scarlettlight06 @Gramelda @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @dunklerkeks1611 @reggxe-a @aviamulier @berlyrecords @dorknerdbeautiful @scribbuluswrites @ecstaticforus @vampireluck @doitmour1r @sharrren @desert-springtime @tuffy-floral @hllywdwhre @Death-by-bowie47 @moompie-blog @langdons-slut @cillymyfavdilf @generalvoidthing @luna047 @mg-i-have-issues @darlingsfandom @devotedly-sassy @banshailey @notevenellastein @cillsmurphys @ch3rry-co1a @elegantfacetree @ilikefictionalmen @juleshadalittlelamb @madnessandobsession @ceirinen @treac @Vrfilms @cillian-murph @sstar_ggirl @ecstaticforus @flwrs4aust

(if you signed up to be on the taglist and do not see your name, your tag failed or you may have typed the wrong url.)

[bekolxeram]

Continuing on the theme of things I've missed while S7 was airing, we have to talk about the (failed) first date. I admit it gave me too much second hand embarrassment that I usually skipped it on a rewatch. Once I managed to brave through that I realized I did miss something important, so here is another scene breakdown. Again, it's just my own interpretation.

The title of 7x05 is You Don't Know Me, that seems to be the theme of the episode: the Wilsons figuring out Mara's trauma, Eddie finding out Marisol's former nun training, Buck trying to navigate the whole dating a man thing, but they all end up making an effort to make the relationship work.

The date scene starts at the end of the actual date. We don't see much of the getting to know each other stuff, but judging by their faces, it's gone pretty well. At this point they don't know about each other's movie preference yet, so Tommy picks a place where they can decide on arrival, with Buck's input. That also signifies the nature of this date, they're literally "keeping their options open" and just seeing where it goes, without any major expectation.

Buck still seems visibly nervous, but Tommy reassures him that they're just two guys having dinner, it's a very ordinary thing that nobody cares.

Buck pretends he's at ease, Tommy points out he seems a little tensed, but he understands Buck's worry. Tommy speaks about the masculine nature of their job and tells Buck that people are more accepting than he thinks, which sounds awfully like it's from experience.

I think Buck sees it too, so he asks Tommy, who seems perfectly confident in his sexuality and masculinity, if he's been always out on a job. Tommy tells Buck about the 118 under G*rrard, this explains to the audience why Tommy seemed to be straight and a part of the boys club back in S2.

So Tommy was at least aware of or questioning his sexuality at the 118. Mr. "my girlfriend is totally coming next week" and "single is much easier than scaring women" was full blown lying about his sexual orientation. Chances are he does understand Buck's nervous fumbling, as he's probably done worse in the past.

Here comes the seemingly recurring theme of Buck making things all about himself, whether you agree with this or not, he does have a tendency to get stuck in his own head. Tommy assures him yet again that he's not accusing Buck of anything, he's just sharing his own experience to empathize.

Tommy looks a bit surprise when Buck tells him it's his first date with a dude. It's probably new information to Tommy.

And then Buck tries showing Tommy that he holds no prejudice towards queerness because he's an ally, completely oblivious to the fact that he's also one of them. Tommy tries to follow as much as he can.

Tommy senses that Buck is spiraling, trying to pull out random stuff just to bring the date back on track, so he flirts with him just to lighten up the mood and for the third time of the night, reassure him of his interest in him and the rest of the night.

Then Eddie and Marisol walk in, and Buck panics. I know Buck tells Maddie later that he "makes it seem like they were just hanging out", but if you go back to this scene, Tommy is the one who covers for Buck and takes the initiative to agree with Eddie and tell him they're just doing normal bro hangout stuff.

7 seaons in, we all know Buck doesn't have the best luck with first dates. The more he likes someone, the more likely it is for him to mess it up. So of course he has to self-sabotage here and drag Tommy into the closet with him, even though Tommy's already covered for him and Eddie is ready to move on. Tommy doesn't like mad here, he looks disappointed.

For what it's worth, Buck's hot chick comment actually makes things worse. Look at how confused Eddie's reaction is.

This snarky joke from Tommy has caused some controversy among part of the fandom. Some believe that Tommy could've outed Buck with it, but I beg to differ. Eddie knows Buck very well, Buck has always dated women. On the other hand, Eddie has never heard of Tommy dating a woman, he might have attributed it to the recency of their friendship, but that's why he immediately makes the connection in his head that Tommy is gay when Buck comes out to him later in the episode. Even if Eddie had superhuman intuition and understood the double entendre of this closet comment, Tommy would be outing himself, not Buck.

Here is another controversial moment: Tommy doesn't explain anything to Buck until the Uber is here, and he just leaves him there. First, Buck is a grown man, he can get himself home, there is no concern for his safety. Second, Tommy has every right to leave the date if he doesn't vibe with it. When Tommy tells Buck he's adorable, I don't think he's referring to Buck's overall demeanor. I think he means that Buck's nervous fumbling into queerness doesn't scare him, he actually finds it quite endearing. But after reassuring him 3 times, even going as far as telling Eddie, someone they can trust, that they're just hanging out, Buck still feels the need to make the hot chick comment and push them both into the closet, Tommy realizes that things would not go any better if they continue the date. Buck has not fully processed the fact that he's bisexual and he's dating a man. I'm sure Tommy really likes Buck as well, he want to make it work, so to him, the best course of action at the moment is to take a step back and let Buck figure things out himself first.

To Buck this may sound like Tommy is letting him down easy, but I think Tommy is consciously not shutting anything down here. He absolutely will see Buck around, he's still Eddie's friend. Tommy knows they will have to talk about it in the future, but for now, it's best to put a pause on things just to give Buck some space to process. What Tommy doesn't know is that Buck has been dumped so many times that he thinks this is it.

Therefore, not only does Tommy never intend to out Buck during the date, he is willing to keep things ambiguous for Buck's comfort. Ultimately, it isn't enough for Buck, so Tommy takes a step back for Buck to figure things out on his own.

[themareverine]

A KING & HIS CASTLE ▹ IN YOU, MY FORTRESS

— oldman!Logan x fem!OC drabble

SERIES SUMMARY: Breadwinner. Bring-Home-the-Bacon. King of the Castle. He's heard it all before, but it's never been true of the Wolverine. Until her. Coming home to her is the only thing to live for, the only thing keeping the heart behind his ribs spinning.

SYNOPSIS: Insane, sick. Straight to hell if that’s the case—he couldn’t think of worse torture, and he’d outlived excrutiating. He knows it more intimately than he should, living it every day. Leaving his small Eden behind, in the biting Mexican dust that wilds it away in the glass of his rearview, it’s hell beyond the little limits of everything he, now, holds close.

warnings: drabble series, day-in-the-life, dad!Logan, age gap, angst, domesticity, pregnancy, babies, children, Logan is a boy dad because I said so.

a/n: based on this. and I have to dedicate this to @1800-fight-me for that post, which changed my brain chemistry and prompted my first oldman!Logan.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

On days like this, Logan could kill. 

Redlight. Redlight. Red, again. Red fuckin’ light. 

He could see them in his fuckin’ sleep. At a little after four, a text from a bunch of digits suggests a phone number—Chicago, if his guess was right. You booking rides? like it’s normal business hours instead of ass o’clock in the morning, like he hasn’t just passed out in bed after getting home and standing beneath a lava-hot shower for all of a handful of minutes—managed three and a half hours of fucking, much-needed racktime. 

Need a limo for five, 7:15. $1k green. 

Squinting into the screen without readers had been like staring into the sun, but Logan had managed. Dimness dropped to low as hell—fine, i'll be there with slow thumbs that burned, felt as if the weight of US-57 had been chained to every fiber of his skin structure. He’d managed to arrange a call time without so much as hammering his phone through the floor, a small mercy—place was barely standing as-is. Hauling old bones from bed was just short of crawling from hell, the warmth of under-covers and threadbare sheets more alluring than Egyptian gods. 

Hair not dry from his first shower, smothered against a thick, hard pillow for the three hours of sleep he’d managed, he stalked his ass back into the shower. Tried to work the cold irritation at humanity swimming in his veins beneath more hot water, failed—wrangled into only-slightly wrinkled slacks and jacket, may as well have been like roping steers. Skipped shaving, fuck that, started the hunt for another of his damn socks. Fumbling about the room like a green linebacker, he didn’t even feel the bed stir. Tangle of sheets around feet, the low moan of a curious, half-asleep lover. 

“Logan?” Drowsy, she props her pretty self up on an elbow. He can see her squinting into the lowlight of the room, thick streams of light from the moon creep over the bed in an otherworldly, nightingale kind of way—half bathed in lunar milk, he couldn’t miss the slight pull of her satin nightdress for anything as she sits up, scrubbing a hand down her face. She asks him what’s up, “Haven’t decided to finally leave me, have you?” 

Insane, sick. Straight to hell if that’s the case—he couldn’t think of worse torture, and he’d outlived excrutiating. He knows it more intimately than he should, living it every day. Leaving his small Eden behind, in the biting Mexican dust that wilds it away in the glass of his rearview, it’s hell beyond the little limits of everything he, now, holds close. Never in a thousand lifetimes would Logan ever imagine being that guy—the guy who fortresses a home. The man who makes vows. Oaths before heaven, whispers sweet nothings and pretty everythings to a heart that beats like his. Never was one for wishing on stars or counting them, slow in a different kind of way—slow in sense of the half-dead, way that smells roses hardly fathomable. If anyone would’ve told him his heart would beat for someone else, for living—-in this shell of a body, this phantom of a man, he’d have laughed. Never believed, no sir. Not him, not the Wolverine. 

Her slow, half-drunk chuckle off the statement claws at his aching ribcage. Fingers brushing what feel like a wad of socks, Logan moves to stuff them into his pocket. Swipes shoes from where he’d dropped them not long ago, slips through the darkness carefully. Where she’s risen from bed comes up quickly, and he blocks the milk of light swathing over their bed from view—fingers her hair away from her face, wild from where it’s fallen from her usual satin cap. 

“You’re dreamin’,” he hums, can’t deny the hint of a mile as she manages a rough, morning-dry chuckle. It sits low. Rattles around the adamantium in his chest. “G’back to sleep, baby—it’s early.” And if that isn’t the God-awful truth, he isn’t sure what is. 5:34 glares back at him when he checks the screen of his phone, not missing the pretty smile laughing back at him from the lockscreen. His lips brush her forehead lightly, hand firm at the back of her neck as his thumb skips over the steady thrum of her pulse. 

Lithe, curious fingers reach for him in the night. As always, they find him—her nails scratch lightly through his unshaven face, skin that’s dewy. An idea of Irish Spring still floats in the air around his nose, but it’s overpowered by the scent of her—the flow of her blood, the oil of her skin. Frankincense she uses in her hair before bed claws at his chest, unmistakable hints of petroleum jelly on the plush of her lips lights cravings in the back of his throat. Even today, after years, her touch still trailblazes through him like wildfire—cuts trails through the jungle of his unknowns, his hesitations. Three days away had felt like fallout, she’d been asleep like any sane person at 3 in the witching hour when he’d dropped into bed.

Blood pistoning to his cock reminds him how long. He’s been a starving man, deprived of her honey—her fruits. 

“You’ll be back?” Her palm against his cheek is God’s gift to humanity, may as well have carved the peak of mountains. “You just got in, Lo,” even in the light of stars he can see the worry mottle pretty features, the depth of her eyes couldn’t be masked by any amount of midnight the universe knew. “You sure you’re okay to drive?” I can drive, if you need me to. She hadn’t driven in years, not since—

“M’fine,” he nods, “don’t you worry ‘bout nothin’ honey.” Slipping her hand into his, he lifts it to press an airy kiss the heel of her hand. It’s soft, for the most part—only partly chapped, mostly from the dry. Dry, and the in-and-out of the desert sun. Keen senses can still taste the brush of earth on her skin, dirt from good hours spent outside. Laughing, running. Playing pretend, exploring the mesa. Like a child, like innocence. 

“Be back tonight,” it comes off a thick cough, “don’t have to wait up.” 

Her snort is sharp. “ I’ll wait. Hate this BS,” the nod is resigned though, knowing. A deep sigh puffs out her cheeks, blows hot against his lips as she looks up at him. “Need you here, Logan,” I know, don’t I know—guiding her arms around his middle, her cheek falls against his chest. Her weight against him reminds him he’s alive, still breathing—reminds him that this, right here, is his. He can feel her hum low at the bottom of her ribs, and rests his chin in her hair, rocking her back and forth lightly. Relishing her heat, the slip of satin. The spring of curl cream in her hair, the zip of adrenaline and sex in his blood. “Want you here.” 

As 5,000 volts as the day he met her, all those years ago. Logan can still taste the rain in the air, the sting of sour sweat and testosterone in the bar. The bite of the steel cage. It’s still clear in the back of his head, glancing at her on a barstool in the corner—more of a drowned lizard than a girl, as the bartender had so aptly noticed. Tired, pretty in the eyes. Broke as hell and as lost as they came—he’d never forget the smile she gave him as he’d tucked her back into that ancient Jeep as long as he lived. 

And she’s still pretty in the eyes, even if they are a little deeper. Haven’t aged a day in all the years she’s been chasing shadows, stalking the sun by his side—racing to die, chancing to live. As Wolverine as they came, in a different kind of way. Unkillable, like him. God’s gift to him, certainly—an Eve for his unkillable Adam, to taste the sun. Lifetimes and mementos of the forgotten behind them, this is his castle. His home— life that, had finally, birthed. 

Wrapped up in pretty satin and swaddling clothes. “I should check on little man,” and there it is. The nail in his coffin. Mention of their son—his son, it’s like a slow poison. Logan never, in any of his days, would imagine that the idea of a child, his offspring would do such devastatingly good things to him—he can’t remember when it changed, how it happened. But it stabs at the mesh of his ribs unlike anything he’s ever felt all the same, toys with his pleasures like a cat with a mouse. Her head tipping back greenlights the pad of his thumb gently pulling at the plush of her bottom lip. Looking up at him with a teasing smile, through low lashes undoes him in a way that should be sin. 

And he kisses her the way she likes, slow. Hard. When her arms snake around his neck, pulling him close, he loses his composure. Deepens the kiss, moans against the heat of her tongue playing with his. “Careful,” he smiles through every languid stroke of her tongue, every little breathless gasp, “don’t start somethin’ we can’t finish, pretty.” 

“Who says we can’t?” 

“When I get back, baby.”

Her pleasured hmmm, heady whispers in dark shadows light him up like a firecracker, but he can’t. Can’t stay, can’t go—trapped in situation’s limbo. Hell of a thing, really. His finger traces the curve of her hip, up—falls in line against her bottom rib, tugging at the skin beneath satin. Erupting in a fit of ticklish giggles, her fingers tug at his hair, play with damp at the nape of his neck. “Logan—not fair!” her breathlessly sharp whine—it fucks his brains. 

“Plen’y fair,” another kiss, one more taste of her, and he steps back. Creates a chasm and his pulse jumps, almost flatlines. Fingertips linger against his as he moves for the door—her tongue chases over kiss-fat lips, and Logan swears to God he can see the fire dancing in the cradle of her womb as she follows after him. Once they hit the door, he kisses her again—it’s the only thing that will keep him alive. 

“I love you, kid,” kid. Hasn’t called her that in awhile. She still smiles at the name, like she always has. It’s true but isn’t—he’s 200 years older than her, another sin on his growing list of indiscretions with God. But she’s lived enough life at his side for it to count, seen enough blood. Heart racing behind his ribs, waiting—breathlessly. All too damn breathlessly for a man who couldn’t give up his breath if God asked. 

“Love you more,” a Betty Crocker kiss to his cheek and she slips away, into the darkness, opposite direction. Nursery, the quiet pull of the innocent. His feet point to the kitchen, to the reckless hour of the world’s morning. 

Twenty-seven steps. Out the door, sink into the limo. A text lights up the phone he’s tossed to the passenger seat as headlights cast lowbeams into witchy darkness. Foot on the brake, he fumbles the breastpocket for hardly-new readers, ignoring the tag still hanging out on the templepiece. Grabbing it, opens the photo attachment. Her, and his child—his son, his side of the bed. His never-in-a-million-years, impossible-to-the-stars family—

— his fortress, the castle to which he returns. Lucky son of a bitch. 

tags: @fandomxo00 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

[johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend]

hamzah missing you on vacation

talk to me - hamzahthefantastic x reader

—————————————

contains: fluff, smut, reader is female, you read the rest and find out

word count: no clue rn but its short

story below the cut

hamzah: hi baby sorry i haven’t been texting n stuff i’ve been busy with martin and mandy yk but i love you sm and i miss you

you: i understand completely :) have fun and dw about me ily too

hamzah: i just got back to my room, u wanna call?

you: ofcc

—————————————

hamzah had gone on vacation to curaçao to relax and film videos for youtube and the podcast. he had brought the trip up to you, asking if you wanted to go. unfortunately, you had work and couldn’t take time off because this was one of their busiest months. you were both obviously disappointed, but he understood and you wanted him to go without you and have fun filming. (#securerelationships) when he got off the plane, that was the moment you realised that it was going to be difficult with extra work and no boyfriend, but you were managing so far. however, today you just got home and boy were you exhausted.

your phone went off as soon as you had sent him the last text. you wait 10 seconds before answering it. “hellooo?” you hear hamzah say. “heyy” you reply, matching his energy. “whats up?” “nothingg, i just missed you” this man knows just what to say. “wait facetime me” he says, while the button pops up on the screen. you answer and see someone else with him. “well hello martin” “y/n! how are you?” “i’m good, how has the trip been for you and mandy?” “so good, she loves it. but this guy here is constantly yapping about how much you would love it too.” “aghh, i know, it looks like a lot of fun, much better than what i’m doing haha.” “alright well i’m gonna go back to my room, cya guys.”

martin leaves hamzah’s hotel room to go back to his own. he turns his camera off, but you didn’t think much of it at the time. you can hear fumbling on his end of the phone. “so, tell me about your day.” you think hard, not even remembering what you did, but start giving him a little summary. you hear a zipper while you talk, but continue as he was probably just changing. you hear him release a groan, “hamzah? are you okay?” “yeah i- just wish you were here right now. hearing your voice isn’t enough.” you finally caught on.

“are you… jerking off right now?” his breath hitches a little. “i’m sorry- i just can’t get you out of my head baby. imagining you in a bikini just makes it worse.” he breathes out. your cheeks grow redder, thankful he wasn’t there to see it. the truth is that you needed him badly too. “well, what would you do if i was there?” you ask him in a more lustful tone. he stops palming himself through his boxers, and removes them instead. “i would pull the string from your- top” he starts slowly stroking his dick. you start taking off your oversized shirt, not bothering to wear a bra because you were home alone. “and then, fuck, i would kiss you everywhere and touch your boobs.” you start massaging your breasts, moaning a little. “mhm, and then what?”

he whimpers, barely audible on the phone. “i wish my hand was yours right now baby. i would probably- m’ take off your bikini and fuck you so good.” he groans out while you take off your panties. you insert a finger into your pussy, ”uh shit, hamzah” you moan out, wanting to help him reach his high. his breathing gets heavier, and all you can think about is if he was the one fingering you right now. “you make me so fucking hard babe-“ you push in another finger, rubbing your clit slightly faster. “keep going hamzah” you praise him, making him involuntarily buck his hips into his hand. “i bet your pussy would taste so good right now.” he says, and you stretch yourself more.

“i can’t hold it,” “just let go y/n” that last sentence made you moan loudly and release your orgasm, panting to try to catch your breath. he groans out, cumming on himself, relieved. “i love you so much.” “i love you too” “you’re definitely coming on the next trip no matter what.” you start getting stuff ready to clean yourself up. “i will, and i think im gonna take a shower now baby.”

“mmm, part 2?”

—————————————

thank you for the request im so tired and drained rn but hopefully this will hold you guys off for the next one. ;)

[sniigura-archive]

imagine that somehow adam runs into judas or lucifer, and since adam is alone standing there (he is waiting for his family) they make fun of adam thinking that his relationship with reader in college didnt work "ha!, that bitch couldnt stand youre lazy ass, i knew it" and before adam could tell them to fuck off, reader appears with all of their 8 kids that go to hug him and judas or lucifer has the most WTF face ever and adam is SOO smirking while pics one of his kids in one arm and holds reader waist with the other. This encounter fills up his ego so much worse

that inspired me to write this. it’s like roughly 5/6 years post college graduation

cw/tw: pregnancy, children

Even though it was close to dinner and bed time for the children, the sun was still mercilessly beating down on Adam. He stood under the shade of a tree, his bag laid by the tree trunk.

The boys were on the playground, while you and Eden were at the restroom right now.

„No way! Adam, is that you?“ A familiar voice called out.

Adam turned around, Judas and Lucifer were really the last people he expected to see. Great.

„ 'Sup?“ He tried to sound as casual as possible.

„Adam, my old friend, what are you up to these days?“ Lucifer asked him, taking a good look at Adam. Since Lucifer and Lilith have been completely cut off, it must be hard for them to keep tap on him.

„Eh, you know. Have been here and there.“ The last thing he wanted was to share any personal details with the demons.

Judas smirked, which was a bad sign, „You here to pick up chicks? Lots of hot single moms around.“

Ah. His wedding ring was getting cleaned right now.

„You speaking from experience?“ Adam asked him back with a raised brow.

„Sure, buddy.“ The way Adam wanted to punch Judas for calling him buddy, „It sucks being single, don’t you agree?“

Why can’t they ask if he’s still banging you like normal people?

„Daddy! Do we really have to go home now?“ The 4 year old, curly headed girl asked him while running up to Adam.

Adam immediately went to bend down, picking up his first born. He gently pushed the hair out of her little face, smiling at her. Her hair was neatly put into french braids.

„Sweetheart, when your Mommy says we have to go home it’s time to go home.“ The girl pouted at Adam’s answer, resting her head against Adam’s shoulder.

She sighed heavily and mumbled out a detached Okay. The way Lucifers and Judas mouths fell open wasn’t missed by Adam.

„The children are too quick for me now. Being outrun by toddlers is really embarrassing.“ Lucifer and Judas whipped their heads back to look at you.

Your sundress hugged every curve perfectly, while your hands rested below your very pregnant belly. You’ve perfected the waddle at this point. Brushing past Judas and Lucifer, you let Adam wrap his arm around you to give your forehead a kiss.

„You remember Lucifer and Judas, right?“ Adam said to you.

You bit your lip at that, stifling your laughter, „How’s it going guys?“

„They’re here to pick up hot single moms.“ Adam told you with laughter.

You sided eyed both of the men, while they fumbled for words.

„It’s not like that!“

„Adam is just messing around…“

The silence was painful. Adam enjoyed it tho. You shifted around on your feet, while Adam went to rub a hand over your stomach.

„…How is the family life treating you both?“ Judas asked, his eyes focused on your stomach.

„It’s good. Nothing is more satisfying.“ Adam told them.

Eden started to squirm around in Adam’s arms.

„Can we gooOooo?“ She whined, rubbing her eyes.

You and Adam nervously exchanged a look. She was close to a tantrum, since it was getting late and she was tired and hungry.

„Boys! Let’s get going!“ Adam called out to the playground.

„There are more…“ Judas mumbled under his breath.

„Lili and I are also trying for a child right now! How long did it take you guys to convince?“ Lucifer tried to keep the chat going. He couldn’t come home without information for his own wife.

„We…never really tried?“ You nervously said.

The twin boys kept digging in the sand, not a care in the world.

„I fucking swear they have selective hearing.“ Adam grumbled out.

Putting your index and thumb together, you placed them under your tongue to let out a loud whistle sound. The boys whipped their heads to you immediately and started running towards you immediately. Even Eden turned around to look at you.

„Good boys! Thank you for listening! It’s time to go home now.“ You ruffled the twins heads.

„Aww. Really?“

„Mama, five more minutes?“

„No. Get going.“ You pushed them towards the way to the car.

The boys immediately started running again, pushing each other while screeching. Eden whined some more, and Adam let her down. She immediately forced her way in between her brothers, easily out running and pushing them.

„Let’s go. I’m pretty sure I have to pee again.“ You groaned, wrapping your arm around Adam’s. Pressing your cheek against Adam’s arm you looked up to him.

„Yeah, we also need to get those little terrorists into bed. It was..Sure fucking something seeing you chumps again.“

And with that you and Adam went after your children.

[cheolhub]

FIRST DATE — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. mingyu doesn’t usually fuck on the first date. emphasis on usually.

wc. 3.5k

warnings. MINGYU W/ A MASSIVE DICK, size kink, oral (m. receiving), deep throating/face fucking, shy baby!gyu (at first ;)), tears ofc, pet names (baby, angel), unprotected sex, mating press, gyu is a needy, pussydrunk boy(but reader is worse lol), slight dumbification, kinda romantic but it’s literally just needy sex— MINORS DNI 18+

note. THIS WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS LONG…. um anyway!! happy birthday mingoo <3 — also @ hyuk4ngel ily dedicating this to u n gyu & thank u to my lovely lu ( @ bowmonde ) for beta reading this!! happy gyu birth to you all <3 (pls excuse typos)

“i-i don’t usually do this on the first date,” mingyu stutters as you kiss down his neck, nipping and biting at his skin. he lets out a shuddered breath because he can feel the marks you’re leaving. he swears you’re trying to spell your name and it’s making his cock throb in his already tight jeans.

you mumble into his skin, “i don’t either, but, fuck gyu… you’re so sexy, i couldn’t hold back..” your hands find their way under his shirt, feeling him up and moaning when he whimpers at the not-so-subtle touch. 

gyu. you’ve called him by his nickname and you barely know him and, for some reason, it really turns him on. 

he wanted to be a gentleman– wanted to walk you to your door, peck your cheek, and whisper goodnight– but your mutual attraction got the best of you. one thing led to another and you were kissing him outside of your door as soon as he’d agreed to your invitation to come inside. 

you parted from his neck briefly to get inside so none of your neighbors would come outside to see the two of you eating each other alive. as soon as he’d stepped inside and closed the door, though, you pressed him right against it.

“we should move to–” he tries, but he’s interrupted by your lips. you slot them into his and your hands wander down his torso, down his abdomen, down till they reach his belt. 

“what do you wanna do, mingyu~” you seductively whisper against his lips. 

he shudders again, “anything. we can do whatever you want.”

you smirk, “you’re such a gentleman, gyu… you were so sweet at dinner. you picked me up, paid for my meal, walked me all the way to my door… i just wanna make you feel good.” you tell him, unbuckling his belt, but before you move to unbutton his jeans, you ask permission. “can i do that, gyu? can i make you feel good?” 

you can’t be real.

“fuck, y-you don’t have to, i want you to feel good, too.” he replies, words breathy as he finds himself chasing your lips.

you moan just at his words, leaning in to give him what he wants.

you must’ve done something redeemable in your past life to have accidentally met mingyu in a cafe. he may or may not have been on his phone while walking out and you may or may not have bumped into him while he was leaving. needless to say, his piping hot coffee ended up all over you and him, staining his white button up and your cute new top in the process. 

he’d asked if you were okay— if you were hurt or burned— profusely apologizing with a nervous stutter. when you finally noticed how beautiful the man before you was, you couldn’t even care about the irrevocable stain made on your shirt. 

you ultimately ended the conversation with, “it’s okay, you can pay me back with a date maybe?” to which he gave you an incredulous look. when he realized you were serious, he nodded shyly and exchanged numbers with you.

and the date went swimmingly, truth be told. probably the best date you’d ever been on. he made you laugh like no other and you made him blush with your playful teasing and easygoing aura.  the chemistry was undeniable.

which brings you back to the now— his tongue shoved in your mouth and your fingers still fumbling to unbutton his jeans. 

when you finally get them undone, you break from the kiss again and mingyu hates that you keep doing that, letting out a whine every time it happens. 

“wanna suck you off.” you tell him bluntly and his eyes widen in shock, puffy lips parting a bit. “can i?”

“are you sure?” he asks, meekly– a bit too shy for a man of his caliber. “i can eat you out instead…”

your core pulses at the words because, fuck, that sounds good too. you have no doubt in your mind that mingyu is a god at eating pussy if it’s anything like the way he kisses you.

but, no, you’re adamant on getting his dick in your mouth, so you shake your head. “you can do that for me another time… i really wanna do this. you’ll let me, won’t you?”

and how the fuck could he say no to that? he nods his head letting out a shaky, “ok.”

you nearly squeal, excitedly dropping to your knees and as you hit the ground, your eyes are leveled with his alarmingly large bulge. you unzip his jeans, pulling the denim and cotton boxers down his thick thighs till his cock pops out, slapping against his clothed abdomen. mingyu hisses as his length is free from the confinement and met with the cool air circulating in your home. 

and, honestly, you think you start drooling because holy. fucking. shit. he’s intimidatingly big. 

no, big is an understatement. he’s huge. massive. likely to split your body right in half if he tried to put it inside of you. but, really, what did you expect? mingyu himself is big. you’ve dated many men who were bigger than you, some even bigger than him— but none of their dicks compared to the one currently twitching in front of you. 

his leaky tip was flushed red and the veins running through his length were prominent. you could nearly feel the weight on your tongue and you hadn’t even touched him. 

“you’re so big,” you whisper looking up at him and he swears he’s gone bright red at the comment. 

“‘m not that big…” he mumbles, eyes averting from yours. if he looks at you on your knees any longer, he may cum untouched. “is it too much? i really don’t mind taking—“

you shake your head vigorously . if anything, you wanna take him down your throat even more. “it’s not… it’s not too much— i can take it.” you tell him and he inhales sharply because he’s fucking sure you could take it. “do girls not tell you you're big, though? why are you so humble about it?” you ask, hands slowly coming to wrap around his girth. 

he gasps at the unexpected contact, eyes finally coming back to you to find what may be a faux pout etched into your lips.“t-they do… i just- i don’t think it’s that big.” he reiterates.

“well it is. you probably wouldn’t even fit inside me,” you admit, voice hushed. your mouth hovers over his tip, letting a trail of spit out to lubricate him.

he curses, cock twitching in your light grip. “fuck, really?” the thought of not fitting in your cunt because he’s just that big has his mind reeling– has him excited. he wants to see if what you’re saying is any true (it is). 

you hum, nodding your head, slick hand effectively moving up and down his cock. “mmh, might break me without any prep– but you’ll make it fit, right, gyu? you’ll fuck me well?”

he lets out a gaspy moan, throwing his head back. “yeah, baby, i’ll make it fit– i’ll fuck you so well. shit, i’ll do anything you want.” his parroted words come out breathy once again. 

you exhale sharply, cunt clenching around nothing at his words and the thought of taking his cock. your hands quicken their pace before you move to wrap your lips around his blushing tip.

this man will give you anything you want and you’re willing to do the same for him. men like mingyu are nearly impossible to come by and you want to keep him all to yourself, so if that means choking on his dick till you can’t breathe, so be it.

you move your mouth down his cock and before you can reach the base, he’s already hitting the back of your throat. 

right above you, mingyu is losing it. he feels the way you constrict around him and it’s already taking him out. he hadn’t expected to be so sensitive, but he just can’t handle how warm and wet your mouth is and he definitely can’t handle how tight your throat is. he can only imagine how much tighter your cunt must be. 

“fuuuck,” he groans, hands flying to your head, tangling his fingers into your hair. “you’re so good.” 

the subtle praise heads straight to your core and you can’t stop the moan that vibrates his entirety. a pitchy whine rips from his throat and he fortuitously thrusts into yours causing tears to prick at your eyes as you let out a strident gag. 

he gasps out an apology, “‘m sorry.” he panting relentlessly and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was about to release into your mouth. when you look up at him with your mouth full and tears clouding your vision, you see that he isn’t really sorry. “‘m so sorry, angel, fuck, ‘m sorry.” he echos over and over with his face pinched in pleasure, yet his hips won’t stop bucking into your mouth. 

you try your best to breathe, but his massive cock makes it hard as it fills your mouth and throat completely. his hands holding your head in place makes it impossible to move, but he sounds so pretty whining and desperately moaning out your name– you don’t even want to back off of him. 

your hands find his bare thighs and you grip them for dear life, fingernails digging into the flesh, sure to draw blood if he doesn't ease up any second now. he hisses at the feeling, ripping you off him with a tug on your locks. 

“need to fuck you now,” he groans, his cock throbbing angrily at the loss of contact. “can’t cum like that, ‘s too embarrassing.” he picks you up, making you stand on your feet. he notices how your mascara runs and your lipstick is smudged, but somehow, you’re still the prettiest thing in the world.

your ego naturally inflates at the comment and you smile cheekily. “i would’ve been flattered if you came that quick.” the words come out raspy thanks to the way his cock bruised your throat. 

he chuckles breathily while pulling up his pants, “i‘m sure you get guys that cum too fast a lot. especially with a mouth like that. ”

you shrug, taking his hand and dragging him to your bedroom on the opposite side of the main entrance. “sometimes, but none are as pretty as you.” you tell him truthfully as you guide him inside quickly, shutting the door behind you. “or as big.”

your face to face with him and he whispers, “yeah?” 

you tug him close to you by his sweater. “yeah,” you whisper against his lips. “dunno how you haven’t been locked down yet, you’re so attractive ‘n sweet– and… y’know, you’re huge.”

“just waiting for the right person to come along, i guess.” he whispers back, hands finding purchase on your waist. “think i’ve found them, though.”

your heart skips a beat and your breathing picks up, “yeah?” you echo breathily back at him. 

“fuck yes,” his grip tightens, pulling your body flush to his. you feel his cock pressing into your abdomen and you let out a whimper at both the coded confession and the way your pussy throbs at his touch. “c’mere, baby.”

you melt at the pet name, closing the gap between the two of you. you count back to how many times you’ve kissed him tonight and you’re almost scared that you’re addicted to the feeling of his lips on yours. the thought quickly dissipates when mingyu begins to pull your dress up by the hem, though. the two of you walk towards the bed, mouths still attached till you fall on the plush comforter, mingyu toppling over you. 

you giggle into his mouth at his body crushing yours. “gyu.”

“sorry.” he scrambles, standing up so you can get your dress over your head. you throw the fabric to the ground, leaving your body adorned in a pretty, white set. typically, you wouldn’t dare pull out one of your favorite sets for anyone– especially not for a first date– but you think mingyu is the most beautiful– most deserving– man to exist. he should get to see the set. 

and he does see it. he can’t stop the way his eyes ogle your lace covered body. “you’re so beautiful.” he pants out much like he’s in heat. 

and he just might be. he quickly and clumsily kicks off his shoes and pulls his pants back down, revealing his aching cock to you again. you curse to yourself when his shirt comes off shortly after, his big chest and toned abdomen on full display. 

god really took his time with kim mingyu. 

he doesn’t waste any time, practically lunging at you and hovering over you with blown out pupils. “look like an angel– fuck, you’re so pretty.” 

you pout, feeling your brain turn to mush at the endless compliments that seem to flow past his swollen lips. the dull ache and sporadic pulse in your cunt remind you how needy you are, though, so you express that to him by bucking your hips up. 

“gyu…” you whimper. “want it so bad.”

he groans, hands pinning your hips down and grounding you to the bed, “i have to prep you, baby– you said it yourself, ‘m not gonna fit.”

you shake your head ceaselessly while squirming in his grip, “no, i don’t care, just give it to me or else i might die.”

“but you said–”

you interrupt him before he can say anymore. “give it to me… please.” the plea comes out hushed and your words are laced with the utmost desire. so much so that it’s almost impossible for mingyu to deny you. you can see some doubt lingering on his face so you tell him exactly what he needs to hear. “‘m so fucking wet for you, mingyu… i’m sure it’ll just slip in– it’s okay. you won’t hurt me.”

he shakily exhales before nodding. “o-okay…” his fingers nimbly tug at the soaked panties, signaling you to raise your hips so he can roll them off your legs. 

mingyu’s pulse thumps erratically in his ears as soon as he sees just how wet you are. your pussy glistens under the soft lamp light and he wants a taste– to drown in your pussy– because he just knows you’re fucking delicious. 

“wanna taste you…” he moans and your walls clench around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal trickling out of you. 

you teeth catch your bottom lip to stop the whine bubbling in the back of your throat.“next time…” you croak. “just need your cock inside of me right now.”

he nods his head at the promise of a next time– he’ll hold you to that. “condom?” 

“iud and ‘m clean,” you confirm, knees knocking against your chest as you pull them up. 

“same.” he says mindlessly as he grips the back of your thighs and spreads you open. “well, i don’t have an iud, but i’m clean, too.” 

he’s cute, you think before you remind yourself that this cute, big man is about to absolutely wreck you. 

you smile, “good,”

one of his hand wraps around his throbbing length, running his flushed tip between your soaked folds to collect wetness. you whine at the contact, praying that he finally stops this unintentional teasing.  

when he drags his cock to your drooling hole, he asks, “are you sure?”

your eyes squeeze shut and nod, “uh-huh, please.”

he lets out a wobbly sigh before pushing his fat tip into you, biting his lip as he watches the way your cunt stretches open to swallow him up. you gasp, back arching at the burning sensation in your core. you really have never taken anyone so big. 

he stops only half way when he’s met with strong resistance. “talk to me, angel,” he whispers to mask his wavering voice. “are you okay?”

you mewl, “g-gyu…” 

“baby, do you need me to pull out? you’re so fucking tight,” he grunts, his cock twitching between the gummy walls that suffocate him. 

your hands grip the sheets under you and you shake your head, letting out the most incoherent sentence ever. “n-no, just– slow, go slow.” 

but you’re completely coherent to mingyu. “relax, pretty. ease up for me– i want it to feel good.” he coaxes, voice soft.

his attempt in helping you relax proves to be futile when you clamp tighter around him. the action elicits a moan from the both of you. 

“j-just fuck me– please, just move.” 

he gives you a weary look, but does what you ask for anyway. he pushes past the resistance, sheathing himself further inside of you. and, fuck, you swear you’re just about to cum when he’s finally bottomed out, both of your hips flushed against each other. you’re impaled on his fat cock, stretched open and completely full of him. 

he’s very hyper-aware of how you're squeezing him while he’s balls deep inside of you and his mind can’t stop reeling. he moans out your name and a few curses, holding himself there till you adjust to his size. 

and you’ve gone dumb at this point, unable to make a comprehensible thought about anything other than the cock you’re split open on. “s-so big. oh my, god, mingyu– you’re so big.” you almost sound like you’re overexaggerating, but it’s true. you can feel him everywhere. 

he can’t stop the way he jolts at the comment, inadvertently driving himself into you. you sob at the doing, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“shit, sorry. still good?”

“mhm, ‘s good– ‘m good.” you tell him as the uncomfortable burn slowly melts to pleasure. “you can move, baby.”

mingyu groans, hands coming back to grip the backs of your knees pushing them against your chest before he slowly pulls out and pushes back in.

you let out the prettiest moan, his name tumbling past your pouty lip and, now, he thinks he’s lost it. 

no, he’s definitely lost it because his speed quickens without a second thought. he drives his cock in and out of you, listening to the way you cry and mewl mixed with the sound of his balls slapping against your wet cunt. 

“Y/N, you’re so fucking good. pussy’s so fucking good– takin’ me so well,” he nearly cries, gripping your flesh tighter. “god, you’re mine now.”

his?

it shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but the way your stomach flips and walls tighten verifies that it does. 

“and you’re mine.” you moan in response. 

and the reassurance that you want him to be yours has him lurching in to sloppily kiss you, moaning into your mouth while he keeps a rapid tempo. you let him swallow your whines and your arms envelope him, pulling him closer. 

his cock finds your sweet spot and when you gasp, he knows to keep hitting it with precision. 

“gyu! gyu, i’m gonna cum.” you warn against his lips.

he growls, thrusts increasing in pace as he’s adamant on getting you to your high. “cum for me, baby– cum all over my fucking cock.” 

his words and impressive speed trigger your orgasm. the tightness in your tummy dissolves as you completely unravel under his big, buff body. you seize, back arched and head thrown to the pillow as you cum and clench around him uncontrollably. 

“that’s it, fuck,” he moans, continuing his assault on your poor pussy.  “you’re gorgeous, angel, so fucking pretty when you cum.”

the onslaught of pleasure is almost too much, body beginning to shake in overstimulation. “w-wan’ you to cum,” you slur, a cry following the words. “please please please, cum on me!” you beg. 

and mingyu is at your beck and call. he knows he’s  just met you, but he’d do anything you asked of him because the grip you (and your pussy) have him in is nothing short of insane. 

that’s why he’s quick to pull out, releasing you from his bruising grip to fist his arousal-drenched cock up and down. he throws his head back and moans out your name again as he releases hot, white ribbons of cum onto your stomach. 

after a few minutes of panting and coming down from his high, he chuckles airly. “i’m so glad i spilled my coffee on you, if i’m being completely honest.” 

you giggle, hiding your face in your hands, “it was a cute top, though.”

“well, you look cute without it on.” he smiles, leaning down to pepper your face with soft pecks. 

“mingyu!” you blush, playfully slapping his bare chest. “be serious!”

“i am!” he laughs. “speaking of being serious… when’s our next date?”

you hum, “well, it depends. when are you free and what do you wanna do?”

there’s a playful glint in his eyes when he looks at you, “i’m free now… and y’know how you said i can eat you out next time?”

your breath gets caught in your throat, but you nod your head remembering the promise you’d made. 

“well… what do you say? can i treat you to a second date? say… right now?”

“i’d love nothing more.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

taglist 🔖: @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @rckwithyou

[moonsandmobilityaids]

The Joys Of Hypermobile Joints

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: Dislocations aren't new for you, but they are for the boys Warnings: Non-graphic description of a dislocated knee Series Masterlist

You're sitting up, your legs drawn under you and a fire crackling nearby, providing warmth against the winter chill. It's a rare moment of peace that you cherish, despite not being able to join James, Sirius, and Remus outside in the snow. But the boys have made sure you're not alone; they keep you company as you remain indoors, tucked away from the cold. The room is filled with their presence: James on the floor, Sirius sprawled across your bed, his legs tangled with yours, a book lying half-forgotten on his chest.

Remus is close, his arm draped around your shoulders, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your skin through the fabric of your shirt. It's a simple gesture, but it grounds you, bringing a sense of calm and warmth that's become familiar. You lean into him, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax fully for the first time since you woke. James rustles a Quidditch magazine, occasionally pointing out an interesting play to Sirius who hums in response.

You shift your legs slightly, seeking a more comfortable position against Remus, when you feel it—a sharp, familiar pain shoots through your right knee as the joint slips out of place. You gasp, your breath hitching in your chest, and your muscles tense instantly.

Remus stiffens beside you, his gentle touch faltering. "Love?" His voice is laced with concern. "What's wrong?"

The moment stretches thin, and you can feel the shift in attention as all three boys turn to focus on you. The comfortable atmosphere of the room tightens, the air thickening with unspoken worry. You grimace, trying not to wince because of course this would happen now.

"Just my knee," you say, attempting to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flare of pain. "I think it's...dislocated."

A collective gasp fills the room. Sirius is sitting up in an instant, the book he'd been reading discarded without a second thought. James lets out a low curse, his magazine slipping from his fingers. Their concern hangs heavy in the room, but you lift a hand, halting their impending flurry of movement.

"I’ve got it," you nod, cradling your knee with one hand while the other fumbles for your wand. The pain is a hot spike in your leg, but this is familiar territory, a battle you've faced many times before. "It happens occasionally—genetic gift from my mum." You manage a half-smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "She taught me how to handle it before I even got diagnosed. Hypermobile joints, they're a blast."

"Are you sure?" James starts to rise, his brow creased with concern. His glasses have slipped down his nose, and he pushes them up absently, his gaze never leaving you.

"I'm sure," you reply, your voice carrying a note of finality. "It's easier if I do it myself. If others try to help—" You hesitate, searching for the right words. "Well, you're all brilliant, but it's... complicated."

Remus shifts, his gaze intense and worried. He looks like he wants to help but is unsure if his touch will bring comfort or more pain. "Is this... Does this happen often?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Only in winter," you respond with a faint smile, trying to infuse the moment with some semblance of lightness. You hold your wand over your knee, murmuring an incantation for warmth. "The cold makes everything worse—knees, ankles, thumbs. Sometimes even my shoulders if I'm pushing myself too much in the chair."

Sirius grumbles under his breath, something about winter being a "real pain", but his eyes never leave your knee. He watches every twitch of your muscles, every flicker of your wand as if he could will it back into place with his stare alone.

The spell provides a gentle heat that seeps into your skin, soothing the raw edges of your pain. It's not enough to completely dull the ache, but it grants you the strength to reach for the next step. Your fingers close around a tiny vial on your bedside table, its contents shimmering under the dimmed light. A pain potion—you down it in one swift motion, grimacing at the bitter taste before setting the empty glass aside.

You press your fingers against the muscle surrounding your knee, massaging gently in an attempt to coax your body into submission. This is routine, a dance you've performed time and again, though never with an audience quite like this.

"Blimey, you're taking this well," Sirius murmurs, his voice a mix of admiration and concern. His brow furrows as if he wants to reach out and help but restrains himself.

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you continue to work. "When you've had to pop joints back in place as often as I have, you learn not to panic."

James grimaces, running a hand through his hair. "That's... intense. How do you even learn something like that?"

"Practice," you answer simply, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "My mum has hypermobile joints, too. She taught me how to handle dislocations when they happen. Knees and ankles are usually the problem spots for me."

Remus's hand returns to your other thigh, a silent anchor in the storm, but he doesn't attempt to take over. He knows you need to do this yourself. You grit your teeth and massage around the dislocation once more, trying to coax it back into alignment.

"Ready?" you whisper to yourself more than anyone else. With a deep inhale, you brace for the pain, then give a gentle push.

A dull pop resonates through the room, almost drowned by the sound of your own relieved exhale. The sharp agony subsides, leaving a throbbing ache in its wake that is blissful in comparison. You sag against Remus, his arm instinctively tightening around you as your body relaxes.

"Done," you breathe out, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering discomfort. You lean back, seeking the warmth of Remus who obliges, encircling you once again with his strong arm, now even gentler than before.

"Blimey," Sirius breathes, breaking the thick silence. His eyes are wide, a blend of awe and lingering worry. "That was bloody intense, love. Hard to watch, but..."

"...incredible," James finishes for him, though his complexion is still a shade paler than usual. He turns to you, his brows furrowing in concern. "Does it hurt much?"

"Only when it happens," you reassure them, shifting to find a more comfortable position. "It's fine now, just needs some rest. The protocol is RICE—rest, ice, compression, elevation—but I've always skipped the ice. Not much point when cold makes me swell up like a balloon."

Remus presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his body still tense with worry, though visibly relaxing. "We can help with the rest, right? Compression and elevation?"

You chuckle, nodding. "Yes, that part’s no problem."

"Great." Before you can draw another breath, James is already reaching for a pillow to prop under your leg, and Sirius rummages through a drawer to find a suitable bandage. The sight brings a small smile to your face, a warm glow spreading through your chest despite the circumstances. They might not understand everything, but they're here, trying their best to help.

“So,” Sirius says, his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he kneels by the bed with the bandage, his gaze lifting to meet yours—a strange blend of admiration and concern etching lines across his forehead, “how long has this been going on?"

You let out a sigh, sinking back against Remus who's tracing patterns over your arm, an absent-minded motion that anchors you to the moment. "I was born with hypermobility and had my first dislocation just after I turned two. My joints have been popping in and out ever since."

James's brow furrows, a question sitting on the tip of his tongue, but it's Sirius who speaks first, disbelief colouring his tone. "Two? Blimey, you must've been tiny."

A soft laugh escapes you, and you nod. "I was. My parents handled it well, though. They began teaching me how to pop them back in when I was about eight." You pause, looking down at your hands. "They wanted me to be able to manage on my own if they weren't around."

Remus stiffens ever so slightly behind you, his fingers pausing mid-concentration. "Eight seems young for that," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his words hangs in the air, unspoken implications lingering like the aftertaste of a bitter potion. He doesn't say it, but you can hear the echo of his own childhood struggles, of learning to cope with pain and fear far too early.

Shrugging, you attempt to keep the mood light. "It wasn't so bad. At first, they helped me, but once I got the hang of it, it was just something I had to deal with. Normal for me."

James slowly rubs the back of his neck, his brow furrowed as if he's trying to unravel a particularly challenging puzzle. "I can't even begin to imagine," he admits, his gaze flicking towards your knee as though it's a foreign object he can't quite comprehend. "You've been living with this since... for almost all your life."

"Pretty much," you reply, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards in a faint smile. "By the time I was eight, it was just another thing. Annoying, yes, but I knew how to handle it." You pause, glancing down at your hands. "It's just part of being me."

Sirius's expression tightens, the lines of his face hardening into something akin to resolve. He remains crouched by your side, one hand still resting on yours—a comforting presence despite the gravity of the conversation.

"You shouldn't have to handle it alone, not anymore," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're here for you, and we'll help however we can."

You squeeze his hand in response, touched by the sincerity in his words. It's warm, a stark contrast to the chill that seems to have settled in your bones. "I know," you murmur, "but sometimes it's easier to manage on my own. Trust me, it gets awkward when someone else tries to step in." A weak chuckle escapes your lips, muffled by the steady rhythm of rain against the windowpane. "You lot are brilliant, but I've got a system."

"Even so," Remus murmurs, his breath a gentle caress against your skin, "you don't have to shoulder everything alone. Just because you've always done it doesn't mean you should."

Your head tilts back slightly, seeking the warmth of his gaze, its steady affection a balm even now. "I know, love. And I'm not alone. Just... let me handle the dislocations, okay? You can tend to the rest."

The shift in atmosphere is palpable as James' posture relaxes, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "So we're on compression and elevation duty, then?"

A grin flickers across your face, pain momentarily forgotten. "Exactly."

Sirius, ever the watchful guardian, glances from the bandages he holds to your face once more. His features are etched with concern, but there's a firm resolve there too. "Alright, how do you want this done? And don't say 'I'll do it myself.' If we're allowed to help with the rest, then I'm bloody well doing this part."

A bark of laughter escapes you, despite the lingering pain. "Alright, alright. Just wrap it snug but not too tight. I know what works best for my body."

Sirius starts to bandage your knee with deliberate care, his movements gentle, belying the brash confidence he usually wears like a second skin. James watches his every move, his forehead creased in concentration as if mentally cataloguing each step, ready to replicate it should the need arise. Remus remains behind you, his presence a sturdy pillar you can lean against without tipping over into the abyss of helplessness.

When Sirius is done, he secures the bandage with a final tug, then looks up at you, brown eyes seeking approval. "How's that?"

You give your leg a tentative flex, testing the level of support the bandage provides. Relief washes over you as the pain reduces to a manageable throb. "Perfect. You're a natural."

His lips curve into a triumphant smile, and he sits back, dusting off his hands with a flourish. "Told you. I'm brilliant."

James chuckles, shaking his head, and repositions the pillow under your leg. "There we are," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "That's the proper elevation."

The relief is immediate and profound; your grimace melts into a sigh as the throbbing in your knee subsides to a dull ache. The fire crackles merrily in the background, casting dancing shadows across the room, and for the first time since you stumbled and twisted your knee, you feel yourself beginning to relax.

"Is there anything else you need?" Remus asks softly, his hand still resting protectively on your shoulder.

You shake your head, managing a weak smile. "No, this... this is perfect."

Silence settles over the four of you, broken only by the occasional pop from the fire. James leans back against the bedpost, his gaze watchful. Sirius sinks down onto the floor beside you, his arm brushing against yours. And Remus—Remus pulls you just a fraction closer, as if to shield you from any further harm.

It's a moment of peace you hadn't expected—not with them, not here—but it wraps around you like a warm blanket, soothing away the last remnants of tension in your muscles.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," Sirius says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You chuckle, the sound raspy with fatigue. "I've had plenty of practice."

"You really are," James insists, his own glasses pushed up to rest on his forehead, leaving his hazel eyes unobstructed as he leans in closer. "You've been handling this stuff since you were a kid. It's bloody impressive, love."

There's no mockery in his tone, no jest in his words. For once, James Potter is entirely serious.

You glance between them, their sincerity washing over you like a warm tide. The impact of their words is not lost on you, but it's difficult to reconcile with your self-perception. You've never thought of yourself as strong—you've just done what was necessary.

Yet the way they're looking at you now, with admiration and something akin to awe, suggests they see something in you that you've never considered.

"Well," you hedge, your voice barely above a whisper, "I had to. But I'm glad... I'm glad I don't have to do it alone anymore."

The last part comes out with more force than you intend, a truth you've held close for too long. Remus's fingers tighten around yours, a silent promise that you're no longer alone. And in that moment, it feels as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

[subskz]

Hii! So I've been thinking about something. Imagine lino waking up desperate, in the middle of the night from a wet dream. His personality is so tricky and confusing, it makes it really difficult to guess what he would do. He is too spoiled to do the job himself, that's for sure. He would probably feel shy and embarrassed about waking you up and asking for help, because he knows that if he does, then he'll have to tell you about his dream, which will definitely lead to you teasing him. Or, he would probably shamelessly wake you up and tell you to touch him, not even asking nicely, just straight up comands you to make him feel good. But who knows, if he is needy enough, he might ask nicely and even say please🤔he is unpredictable, idk.

hellooo <3 spoiled needy lino not being able to get off on his own…you know the way to my heart

ur so right abt him being unpredictable, i think he’d love to keep you on your toes bc it makes him feel like he has the upper hand (please indulge the playful kitty) sometimes he’ll be absolutely shameless just to get a reaction out of you, other times he gets strangely shy and cant even make eye contact 🥰 his body always tells on him though, whether it's waking up all sticky and flushed from a wet dream, or his ears turning bright red when you tease him for it. he’d have to decide if it’d be more embarrassing to softly nudge you awake and plead for you to help him, or try handling it by himself only to give up w a frustrated whine when he can't make himself feel good like you can (or even worse, him accidentally waking you up with all his fidgeting and heavy breathing so that you catch him in the act of fumbling w his dick or rutting against his pillow)

if he’s feeling too needy to play his usual games, he turns into the sweetest most pliant thing. he’d sound so irresistible asking you in that soft, sleepy honey voice to make him feel good bc he can't do it himself, and the way his eyes are so dark and dilated in the low light makes it hard not to give him what he wants instantly 💔 but if the lil brat tries to demand that you take care of it for him…he’s in for a long night of edging and denial until he finally learns to say please like a good boy hehe. or you could play along and tell him to demonstrate for you so you can know exactly what how likes it…and then just watch him pitifully try to get himself off until he breaks and starts begging without you having to lift a finger

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

sandor clegane x reader

Chapter 6

Previous chapter here

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for this chapter- Threatening, Joffrey (we know why), mention of sex, breathing restriction, 18+ language.

Your arm is linked with sansas as you walk through the city courtyard seeing the gold, white, and red decorations. You look up seeing the banners, seeing them draped from windows and strung across the walls. Walking into the town square the space has been cleared and the severent are working to continue the decorations. 

You see joffrey barking orders as merryn trant and hound stand behind him. He notices the two of you and adjusts himself before walking over. 

“My lady sansa. Lady clegane.” he says 

“Your grace” you both say. Your eyes glance up at Sandor before focusing on the king when he speaks. 

“Wonderful don't you think..i think this is just what kingslanding need the festival!'' Joffrey says. 

“It's beautiful.” Sansa acts. 

“Yeah sure, it should be completed in 2 days time i hope the food will be good, come with me my lady, I want to show you where the fool will be performing.” Joffrey says, holding his arm out to sansa. Who takes it? He takes a step as the other two men begin to follow. 

“Not you dog, stay, keep an eye on the bloody workers if they can ever fucking move fast enough.'' Joffrey says before walking off leaving you Sandor and the other guard who assisted you and Sansa on the walk to the courtyard. Sandor nods his head to the guard who must be new by the way he shakes when he sees his superior, and the guard scurries off to fill his place with Sansa and joffrey.

Sandor turns watching as the servants continue to work. It's quiet for a bit before he turns his head to you looking at you. You notice he's looking at you so you look back at him. 

“What?” you ask, his hardened expression doesn't change. 

“What?!” you exclaim as he turns his head back forwards. 

“Are you hurting?” he asks reluctantly. You frown in confusion not understanding what he means until he speaks again. 

“The first time is usually uncomfortable, '' he says. Your ears burn as you realize he's talking about last night in public. 

“O-oh..i'm alright, s-sore. I should ask the same for you.” you say looking up at him. 

“Mm. just cat scratches i've had worse.” he grumbles. 

“I'm not hurt, you know. You didn't hurt me sandor, like you said.” you say taking his hand, his rough palm in your soft one. He looks down to you, feeling your hand in his. 

“The marks…do those hurt?” he asks. 

“Not at all if anything…I kind of like them.” you say blushing lightly. A short chuckle leaves his lips as he looks back to the servants. 

“Your cape is back in the room.” you add on. 

“Hmm..last night wasn't enough for you then little fox?” he asks. 

“N-no! I mean yes– i-I it was enough- i enjoyed myself- i hope you did as well- i'm just suggesting- n-no i'm not. NO i mean ah…” your face burns as you fumble over your words. 

“If you'd like it b-back you're going to have to get it yourself. My maids are terrified of you so they will not return it by mail.” you say pulling your hand away from him.

Amused at how easy it was to fluster you but less so that your hand is gone from his. 

“Fine then..” he huffs and holds out his arm to you. 

“I'll get it myself.” he says, waiting for you to take his arm. 

“Good” you say and hold his arm in yours. You turn your head away, opening your mouth to speak again when you're hit from behind, causing you to almost fall forwards if sandor hadn't caught you. Three men run by you, the last one running into you. Sandor grabs the third by his neck lifting him. 

“Watch where your fucking running boy! You've hit the princess. Watch it or I'll use your entrails as a damn jump rope!” he barks out, resorting back to his usual roughness. The man whimpers in fear once the hound puts him down. 

“M-m-my apologies milady!” he says bowing before running off to his friends. 

“You alright?” he asks you. Going back to you facing you. Your hand rests on your shoulder where he hit you. 

“Yes. Thank you for catching me.” you say. He nods, bringing his hand  up to your face, tucking your hair behind your hair, spotting the marks he left on your neck. He lifts your chin looking at his handy work. 

“Fucking pigs running through the streets nearly ran into me!” you hear jeoffrey's whining voice. Sandor pulls his hand away from you before turning to face the sound of the king. 

“You just stare at the fuckign flags waving in the air you mutt?” Joffrey asks, not really wanting an answer from sandor. 

“Sure.” he says 

“Mm whatever entertains your boring scared ass. Honestly I don't know how you entertain yourself around him.” joffrey says walking passed you both making sandor roll his eyes with a sneer mouthing a mockery of joffrey. Making you press your lips together suppressing a laugh. 

“Come along dog, we have to look in the bakery.” Joffrey says not really having to do so; he's probably just hungry and wants food. 

—-----

You continue the rest of the day and and the next exploring the festival decorations ever going as far out as the the towns square only with two f your hand maidens. Sneaking out of the castle with out a gaurd is no easy feat and often times with in the hour a gaurd who bring you back to the castle. Every guard its been has been Sandor.

you admire the decorations the towns people have done and the hope they share for a good and well festival even spending some time with the local children in the orphanages. Playing games and reading to them. Until you are once again escorted back to the castle.

But now you are on a different mission you walk into the seamstress house.

“Excuse me?” You ask a woman

“Oh! My princess!” She says and bows down.

“Shh no no i-im not supposed to be outside of the castle walls without supervision please get up.” You say begging her. She raises.

“Can you please make something like this. Black gold and yellow?” You ask

“A black dress milady? Was th’re a death in the family?” She says her thick accent almost missing words.

“N-no i want to wear it for the festival would you be able to make it for me?” You ask handing her paper with the sketch and your size.

“ o’course i can.” She says with a smile.

“Thank you i apologize for the short notice um. Here” you say placing a little pouch of coins on the table next to the paper.

“OH why mildly id’a do it f’free” she says you shake your head.

“No no. Your dresses you make are far too beautiful to not be paid for.” You say and smile.

“I’ll do me best, I’ll ‘ave it sent into the ca’sle on the day.” She says you nod smiling at her before hurrying off having heard that the guards were looking for you.

————

Walking down the hall you reach the library on your usual rounds to keep yourself entertained. When you’re stopped by two guards thier armor shiny and unbent letting your know they are new.

“Hello there little lady.” One speaks as the block your route to the library.

“Excuse me ser’s” you say and try to pass but to no avail you cant pass them, more like they wont let you.

“Whats a pretty thing like you doing out alone eh?” The other says hes got a Scottish accent.

“You’re blocking my way. Excuse me i wont ask again?” You say sternly looking up at them.

“Oh so fierce. Eh the little minx bites then does she? Id like you to use those teeth for something else then eh?” He speaks again. A disgusted look falls upon your face.

“She dosnt bite, but i do.” You hear the familiar gruff voice behind you.

The immediately straighten up.

“What are you two bastards drivleing on about.” Hound speaks again.

“N-nothing ser.” He  says. 

“Making s-sure the lady princess is safe on her w-way..” the other speaks.

“Fuck off or i‘ll cut off your cock and balls myself and shove them so far down your throat you’ll be coughing each others semen for a week.” He says shifting in his stance. The men bow to you before they scurries off. 

You turn to him facing him looking up at him. 

“You alright?” He asks. You nod in response. 

“We’re you following me?” You ask a small smile on yor face. 

“No.” He says immedetly before starting to walk off you smile at him skipping up to him. 

“You were weren’t you?” You smile looking at him as you walk. 

“No I wasn’t I was just walking the same way as you were standing.” He says 

“That..that sounds like watching me.. Don’t you think its also familiar that every time i’m out of the castle walls you’re the one to come a retrieve me?” You say. He stops and turns to you. 

“No, and if i was following you.” He says you smile up at him taking a step closer. 

“Why?” You ask, knowing that he was, placing your hands against his armored chest. His hands remain one at his side and one as his sword. 

“Because little fox…” he trails off you nod your head waiting for him to finish. 

“Because this city is not safe half the time.” He says. A toothy grin forms on your face as you realize what he’s trying to say. 

“You’re worried for me arn’t you?” You ask he huffs. 

“You are! Sandor you’re worried. Well you needn’t worry becuase i have a strong personal gaurd that follows me wherever i go.” You say. His dementor changes his soft gaze hardening. 

“You, Sandor. You follow me.” You say poking at his chest. He grunts and begins to walk away from you. 

“Will I see you tonight?” You ask out to him leaning your head to the side. 

“why?” He asks 

“The festival?” You ask 

“I have to be there.” He says 

“Good.” You smile. You watch as he turns to walk off again but turns back to you taking a few steps twords you due to his long strides and leans down to you kissing your cheek before turning and finally walking away.

————

You stand in front of your mirror, your maids interchanging dresses for you to look at as you wear to the festival tonight.

“What do you think of this, my lady?” one asks as she holds out a pink and white dress. 

“It's too…young I would look like a strawberry and cream pastry.” you reply. 

Your handmaidens giggle as one retorts to you. 

“Maybe the lord clegane would find you good enough to eat.” she says as they all giggle your face flushes with heat as your mind backtracks to the night. 

“This my lady?” she asks, holding up another dress. 

“Too green.” you say 

“My lady the dress you ordered came in?” she asks again, holding out a new dress.

You look at it for a moment recognizing the colors; it looks like sandors house banner. The black dress with yellow accents and golden corset display.

You smile about agreeing to it when the doors open and your hand maiden walks in with one of the queens holding out a dress crying in your presence. 

“Her grace the queen has requested you wear this for the night my lady.” she says holding out a red gold and white they would more than likely be restricting as hell. Your smile fades when the black dress is taken away from you and the maids help you undress in the current one. Your eyes glance back at the other dress before you're completely stripped of the dress you hand on and you step into the dress cersi told you to wear. 

The dress slips on perfectly, the collar coming up slightly around your neck, not leaving any room for slouching. As the maiden laces the corsets your breath becomes more and more restricted. 

“F-fuck.” you curse under your breath as she fully tightens the corset. You grab onto the desk side as she tugs pulling your waist in more and more. Until the ties are tight enough. 

“Are you alright my lady?” she asks, concerned. 

“Y-yes i'm fine.” you say your hand resting on your stomach now sucked into the heavens. She nods. She bends down to fix the trail of the dress so you can fully see the results of the garment. A knock at the door can be heard. 

“Enter.” You call out as the door opens. Sandor walks in. Causing the maid who opened the door you hurry a step backwards. You turn to see him in new armored gear. The white and gold armor shining against his dark hair and features. The intricate patterning on spikes and swirls reside on the shoulder pieces and in the middle of his chest the crown symbol. His white and gold cape flowed behind him. But what shocks you the most is his face, he shaved, but more so most likely forced too. And a boy about 16 or so follows close behind him.

A smile forms brightly on your face as your mouth drops open a bit. When you fully turn to face him. His grumpy resting bitch face still present as he sneers a look at the maid from cersi’s hands and she squeaks past him to return to the queen. His eyes hit you seeing you in the dress and his eyes immediately soften. 

“Did you shave?!!.” you ask excitedly. He doesn't answer his eyes just wander your garments growing colder again

“Ive been poked and prodded and shaved down i have uncomfortable armor and they gave me a fucking squire…im not in the mood for jesting. If anything all i want is to cut the fucker who did this to me in half and feed his shit to jeoffry for ordering it.” he says slowly. 

You walk to him only now noticing how heavy the dress is. 

You stand in front of him looking up at his face then down to his squire. 

“And you are?” you ask if the boy seems stunned to be in your chambers more than anything. 

“J-joss stillwood milady.” he bows. 

“Pleasure to meet you. Has my lord husband treated you well?” you ask. 

“Yes milady. Of course.” he says, actually telling the truth. You look back at sandor. 

“You look very handsome sandor.” you say. 

“Shut the fuck up.” he grumbles his heart burting at the compliment. You give him a small smile.  “Cersi has asked that i escort you into the banquet hall as a guard, as lord ...and as a husband” he says your eyes widen ever so slightly.

“Well you certainly look the part then.” you say he sighs and holds out his arm. For you you take it and exit the chambers walking to the banquet all seeing other guests walking the same way.

————

Holding onto sandors arms you can hear the faint gossip from others as you walk towards the doors. You feel the looks as people stare. 

“y/n.” you hear sandor speak. You look up at him seeing he’s already looking at you. 

“Ignore them. That's what I do.” he says, having noticed your discomfort. You nod. 

 You reach the doors and are announced. 

“I present princess y/n of house clegane and her lord husband, kingsguard, Sandor “the Hound” Clegane.” Everyone stops what they are doing and bows to you. As you enter. You see cersi, joffrey, tommen and sansa sitting at the head banquet table waiting for you. 

You both walk down the aisle that will soon become a dance floor to the table. You lift your skirt ever so slightly to climb the few stairs to your seat. Sandor pulls out the chair for you and you take a seat. He stands behind you slightly to your side. 

“Welcome my dear, i'm so glad the dress made it to you in one piece you look ravishing, Doesn't she look beautiful clegane?” cersi says turning to sandor to ask. 

“Yes, your grace.” he answers coldly. She picks up her knife and cups tapping the metal utensil against it. Quieting everyone. 

“It is with great pleasure that I have invited you all here tonight. We have music, fine wine, food, dancing here and in the courtyard. This festival brings us all together. Please enjoy yourselves." She says everyone cheers before the music begins. She sits back down and food is placed on the table. 

Everyone begins to eat but you sit and poke at the food. Cersi takes notice of this and leans to you. 

“Are you well my dear?” she ask

“Yes, your grace.” you answer. 

“I hope as well, my maidens told me of you and sandors consummation, I do hope those markings amount to your body healing well.” she says. 

“...y-yes your grace i haven't needed a maester.” you say she nods. And leans back to her seat you looks up at sandor you stands like a brick wall watching and scanning the room. You watch as everyone enjoys the party and dances and eats. You manage to eat a small amount before not wanting anymore, just a few raspberries and strawberries. You've sat at the table half board and half content for an hour or so before Sansa gets up and walks to you.

“y/n..dance with me?” she asks, standing next to you.

“Oh i don't think..” you say 

“Come on!” she says holding out her hand you sigh and nod standing up and taking it. Sandor follows close after you both to watch as a guard. She leads you out through the open doors to the court yard where more music plays and others are eating and dancing. 

A new song begins just in time as you both take your place. You admire Sansa's dress. A flowy blue dress no doubt Joffrey has chosen for the golden landed bodice shines against the outside lighting. The dance begins and you hold up your hand turning along with sansa. 

“I can't breathe in this dress.” you say to her. 

“Neither can i” she says, giving a small laugh. 

“My hand maids tied it so tight I can feel my heart beating in my throat.” she continues. You laugh and nod. Turning to the side to switch partners as part of the dance, it's a young man around your age as he smiles at you, surely admiring you. 

“You smell good my lady if I may interject.” he says. 

“Thank you my lord.” you answer. 

“Willow berry and prose is such a fine scent of a beautiful princess.” he says linking your arms with his as part of the dance requires. 

“Y-yes.” you say.

“I'm lord of the hotel house , segal.” he says. 

“A pleasure.” you say before returning to sansa. 

“Who?” she asks. You shrug giving her a pained expression. 

“Sandor doesn't seem to have taken a liking.” she says gesturing over to where he stands by the doors. You see him looking at you, his gaze hardened at the sight of the man who was making conversation with you. You also watch as joss nods his head enjoying the music in his place next to sandor.

“Oh no..”you say Sansa laughs as the dance shifts once more bringing you back to the lord. 

“Pleasurable once more.” he says. 

“The dance, yes of course.” you say. He chuckles, shaking his head. 

“No my princess, you are.” he says 

“I appreciate your kind word my lord for I am promised to another, sealed in fact.” you say looking over at the 6’7 monster of a guard and husband standing glaring. 

“Ah..well a dance will not hurt then.” he says. Before you can answer the dance ends and you curtsy as he bows to you. 

“May I have the next one?” he asks

“I really dont think-” you begin glancing at Sansa who has already been caught up by joffrey. 

“Please my lady, dance. one.” he says holding out his hand you nod taking it. The music begins again to play a very upbeat song known for lots of movement and dancing which you don't know how you will complete in the dress. He pulls you into him and begins to lead the upbeat dance. 

Not being able to last the entire song you break away from him gathering your dress and walking off trying to catch your breath. 

“My lady?! Are you alright?” he asks, you hold out a hand to tell him to go away but too out of breath to speak, but before he can place a hand on you he is grabbed by sandor. 

“Fuck off.” he speaks gruffly. 

“Excuse me sir but I am a-...” he trails off seeing Sandor fully and runs off. 

“Are you alright little fox?” he asks you to look at you. You place your hand on your stomach as you walk farther away from the music and dancing. You walk out onto the side view balcony hearing the faint music. Still struggling to breath your lack of air causes your vision to blur black spotting in your vision. The dress becomes heavier by the second causing you to lose your footing and hit the side barrier, you gasp about to fall off the side when you're caught by sandor he pulls you into him. 

Your knees give out as he holds you. He kneels to the ground. His hand is placed on your waist feeling the hard boning of the corset and hearing your labored breathing.

“Shall i call the maester ser?!” Joss asks worriedly.

“No…For fucks sake” sandor curses before he pulls out his dagger and cuts the corset down the middle allowing for a gush of air to return to your lungs. You grab onto him as you can finally breathe again. You blink as your vision clears. The color also comes back to your face as he places his hand on your cheek. You give him a weakened smile placing your hand over his. His eyes scanned to make sure that that was all that was causing your discomfort. 

“You're alright now little fox.” he says, kissing your forehead. Helping you stand before lifting you into his arms he carries you away from the party back to your chambers.

READ CHAPTER 7 HERE

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Crumb Together

Prompt Day 27: Coffee Shop AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Modern AU, Meet-Cute, Platonic Stobin, Coffee Shop/Bakery AU, Fluff, Steve POV

Steve is carefully filling the bakery case. He's been here since three a.m., and it's still a half-hour until opening, but at least he's on time and not behind schedule for once. 

"Hey dingus, do we need more muffins?" Robin hollers, banging through the double-doors from the back to the front. 

"No, I have enough, thanks so much," he snaps. He's snippy this morning, pretty mad she ever talked him into this whole coffee shop scheme. Sure, they're retail pros, but small business owners? He should have said no fucking way. But she was excited, and he wanted her to be happy. That’s always his downfall.

He's definitely re-thinking that now that they’ve completely lost their social lives by keeping these insane working and sleeping schedules. They only see each other, which isn't the worst thing in the world, other than the fact that he doesn't know the last time he's touched boobies. Or dick. He's not picky. 

He needs to get laid, and he can’t do that stuck inside this coffee shop slash bakery hell with his best friend.

He's about to turn and sass her, when someone taps on the front door and he jumps, throwing a chocolate muffin up into the air, fumbling it around, before finally regaining control. 

He didn't drop it, but it looks a little worse for wear. He can't sell it like this. 

Well, fuck.

If he was a hired hand, he'd ignore the annoying tapper until the official opening time. Which is twenty-nine minutes from now. But as the owner, he puts down his tray and walks towards the door. They could use the paying customer, even if they’ve shown up way too early, like a rude asshole.

He looks, but he can't see anyone out there in the dark. Maybe he should ignore it.

He doesn't, instead he unlocks the door, and there's a guy standing there. 

"Hey, nice catch," the guy says, smiling. 

Steve forces a smile in return, "How can I help you?" 

"I know you're not open yet, but I saw you in there juggling the muffins, and I'm on my way out of town and really need a cup of coffee. My coffee maker decided this was the morning to croak," he says, slashing his whole hand across his neck, making a throat-slitting motion. 

He's rambling, like Robin.

Steve finds it a little cuter on him, than he does when Robin does it at this ungodly hour. 

Steve sighs, and opens the door wider to let him inside, "You just want black coffee?" 

"Please," the guy says. 

"I'll have to brew it. It'll just take a minute." 

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver," he says, and Steve can see that he's looking at Steve's chest, looking for a name tag. But Steve's not wearing one. Because as the owner, he finally doesn't have to. 

Robin is booting up the point-of-sale system, "Black coffee?" she repeats. 

The guy nods. 

"For?" 

"Eddie," the guy answers. 

"Good thing you asked him, I'd never know who to hand it to," Steve snarks at Robin, starting the coffee machine.

Eddie laughs.

Robin doesn't.

When it's done, Steve places the cup on the counter, and Robin immediately picks it up and writes Eddie's name on it. 

Which, that's stupid. They all know it's Eddie's coffee. Then, Robin sacks up the slightly banged up muffin and hands it to Eddie.

"You scared him and caused him to squish it. So, it's yours. On the house!" she says, far too chipper for this time of morning. 

"Thanks, I'll try to drop by and scare him more often," Eddie says, reading his name on his cup, grinning. Then Eddie slides a ten dollar bill across the counter, waving off his change. 

As soon as the bell on the door jangles, signaling Eddie's departure, Robin turns and slaps Steve on the arm. 

"What the hell? That cute boy wanted to flirt, and you totally dropped the ball, dingus!" 

Steve scrunches up his forehead, "Huh?"

Robin just shakes her head, annoyed, and heads back towards the kitchen.

Is Steve so rusty that he missed flirting? Goddamnit. 

Steve has just turned the front door lock, and flipped the sign to closed, when he hears his cell phone ringing somewhere in the distance. He follows the sound, and when he picks it up, it's a number he doesn't recognize. Great. More telemarketer bullshit. 

He goes to swipe the decline button, when Robin shouts, "You better get that!"

He looks back at his phone and cautiously accepts the call, not knowing what the hell she's done now.

"Hello?"

"Is this Steve? From the coffee shop?"

"Yeah, this is Steve," Steve says, suspicious. He has no idea who he's talking to.

"Good, good. This is Eddie. From this morning. The coffee jerk that made you open early."

"Oh, uh, okay. Um…"

"How did I get this number?" Eddie asks, laughing.

"Yeah, that was what I was thinking," Steve admits.

"Well, somehow it ended up written on my coffee cup this morning, with your name and a time to call."

Steve shakes his head, Robin is such an asshole, but Steve smiles.

"Well, I'm not sure how that happened," Steve says, teasing back. Flirting. 

"Big mystery," Eddie teases, "but since I've got you on the phone, would you like to grab dinner or drinks. Coffee?"

"No coffee," Steve laughs, "but yes. To the other two, for sure. But be forewarned, I eat really early. Like an old person. Early bird specials are my jam. And I go to bed by nine. Eight-thirty if I can get away with it. I gotta be here by three to get ready to open this place."

He's learned to get that info out of the way, early. 

"Well, that sounds perfect. I get up at four to get to my jobsite. I'm in construction," Eddie says.

Steve smiles, it's been a while since anyone has understood his schedule.

"So, dinner? Four-thirty or five?" Eddie asks, and Steve laughs.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ☕

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!