#roads were flooded up to the waist

[fairywithgremlintendencies]

what a nightmare.

[lvstrucks]

breaks

lando norris x reader

Being a couple both of whose love languages were physical touch, you and Lando were no strangers to a bit of playfighting. Lando loved nothing more than to tackle you onto the soft surface of a sofa or bed and watch you squirm playfully, collapsing into a fit of giggles as you tried to take control of his strong form and make him do what you wanted. It was perhaps the only time Lando would allow his competitive side to slide, letting you pin him down and sit on his toned stomach in victory.

So it was nothing out of the ordinary when he leaned against the doorframe, watching you pad around the kitchen making dinner in one of his Quadrant t-shirts he felt a familiar burst of love begin to creep up his abdomen. It was a quiet Friday night before the Monaco Grand Prix, the both of you enjoying the comfort of being in your own apartment before what was sure to be a hectic weekend.

As soon as you put down the wooden spoon you'd been using to stir the dinner, he makes a beeline for you.

"Lovie," he half mumbles, half laughs into your shoulder as he scoops you off the floor.

"Lando!" you giggle, making a feeble attempt to shrug him off. "Stop, I'm making dinner," you protest, while really having no intention of making him stop.

Lando twists you around so he's holding you horizontally, gripping onto your waist and starts to spin you around so you can't reach to push him off.

"You just look so cuddly and cute dressed like that," he defends, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Just wanna love my girl a little."

You both shriek with laughter as he begins to spin you even faster. Lando's certain that hearing you laugh like that because of him is one of the best feelings he's ever had. He feels like he might be flying a little, until your left arm flicks out with the force of being spun and the sound of a crack against the marble counter stops him in his tracks.

"Baby?" He asks uncertainly as he sets you gently on your feet.

"Ow." you blink back tears. "That hurt. But I'm fi-"

You cut yourself off as your hearing becomes muffled.

"Lan, I can't..." you put both hands up to your ears, pressing as if to try and restore your hearing. It comes flooding back, along with a throbbing pain in your wrist as it pushes against your head.

"Fuck, baby. Fuck!" Lando says, snapping into action. Not only is his girlfriend clearly hurt, she got hurt under his care, and it was his fault too.

He grabs a bag of frozen peas from the freezer, pulling you gently over to a chair at the dining table and sitting you down. He hands you the bag of peas, gesturing for you to rest your hurt hand on it.

"Did it...always bend that way?" He asks quietly, face going pale as you both assess the situation. The tears begin to fall as the full brunt of the pain begins to hit and Lando is quick to lead you downstairs, getting you buckled into his car and running around to the driver's seat. 

It takes a little while longer than normal to get to the emergency room, as lots of roads have been closed off in preparation for qualifying tomorrow, and Lando drums his fingers impatiently on the wheel.

"Not long, baby. We're gonna get you some help, and they can give you something to help the pain, ok? I'm right here with you." He tries to reassure you.

Good as his word, Lando doesn't leave your side once. He holds your hand whilst they set your fractured wrist back into place, gritting his teeth and keeping quiet as your nails dig into the calloused skin of his hands. He rubs your back softly as they wrap a pink (as requested) cast around.

You sleep on the way home, suddenly exhausted now the pain meds have kicked in. Lando watches you quietly each time he stops at a red light. He feels sick to his stomach as the red glare catches the streaks of dried tears on your cheeks.

Once back in your apartment, Lando carries you bridal style up to the bedroom. He undresses you quickly, taking care not to bump your wrist as he pulls one of his shirts over your head, one of the softer ones that you love to sleep in.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles into your hair as he wraps himself around you. "I'm so, so, sorry."

You shake your head softly, waking up a little.

"I know you are, Lando. It was an accident."

"But I promised I'd never do anything to hurt you, and I broke it. I broke you." He frets.

You lean up and press a kiss to his pouty lips.

"It was an accident, both of us were being silly. I'm not upset at you, just upset it happened. So please don't beat yourself up about it, okay?" you say and Lando nods solemnly, snuggling down so your head is laying on his chest. He strokes your hair softly and you breathe in his scent, closing your eyes.

"Does it hurt? A lot?" Lando asks quietly into the darkness.

"No." you lie.

Although you'd assured Lando you were fine in the morning, ready to come and support him during qualifying, you were quickly deteriorating as the day dragged on. You found yourself sinking into a cushioned seat in the McLaren hospitality, beginning to shiver as the ache from your wrist travels up your arm. Lando is busy preparing for qualifying, but Adam is talking to an engineer and notices his son's girlfriend fading into herself and walks over to check on you.

"Everything ok?," he questions you. "Should I get Lando for you? He gave strict orders to interrupt him at any time if you weren't feeling well."

"I just need my next painkillers, I think." you say, trying to smile in a way you hope is reassuring. "Do you know where they ended up? I didn't bring a bag so Lando had them in his pocket when we arrived."

Adam tells you he will go and hunt down your meds, but unsurprisingly Lando spots his dad looking around and excuses himself from talking to Zak in the garage and jogs over to the hospitality.

"Baby, are you OK?" He asks, wrapping you in a gentle hug. You sigh, sinking into his chest and allowing him to hold you up.

"It's just..it's really starting to hurt now." you say, and his heart sinks at the sight of your bottom lip beginning to wobble.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he says truthfully. "Do you want to go home and take a nap there? I can get someone to drive you now."

You shake your head stubbornly.

"I want to stay and see how you qualify. I just need some pain meds."

"They're in my driver's room with my clothes." He explains. "Do you want to come with me? I have that fold-down bed in there now, you can have a quick nap?"

You nod, allowing him to lead you into his room. Once there, he hands you your meds and then slips his comfy cable-knit sweater over your head to stop your shivering. He does his best to tuck you in all comfy, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I'll come and wake you up in about an hour or so, ok?"

As he shuts the door behind him, he hears a soft "Thank you, Lan." He blows you a kiss, heading back to the garage.

When Lando comes back to wake you up, he's met with a much happier looking Y/N. You sit up on the bed, kissing his cheek and stretching.

"Do you have a pen anywhere? Or do you know where I can find one?" You ask.

Lando frowns, but gestures that he'll be one minute as he slips into Oscar's driver’s room for a second, returning with a Sharpie and handing it to you.

"What's it for?" He asks. "Are you going to vandalize McLaren to get me back?"

You giggle, standing up from the bed.

"I'm heading over to Red Bull," you explain, as if that would make any sense to Lando. "I'm going to see if I can get Max Verstappen to sign my cast. Ooh, and maybe I'll look for Charles too after."

"What?!" Lando splutters. He can't believe his ears. "You want Max and Charles to sign your cast before your own boyfriend? I know they were your favorites before we met, but have I made no progress?"

You laugh, flopping into him and leaning against his legs.

"It's because I don't want to exploit you, baby. I'm going to enjoy their signatures and then maybe sell the cast on eBay once it's off."

Lando bursts out laughing at your explanation, eyes squeezing shut as he holds you tight.

"My little businesswoman. Can I please be the first to sign it?" He asks.

You hand him the Sharpie, holding out your wrist to him. He takes it ever so gently and his tongue peeks out his mouth as he concentrates.

Twisting your arm around to read it, you grin as Lando looks proud of his work. Instead of signing as he would sign a hat or shirt for a fan, he's simply printed his name, followed by a collection of kisses and one wonky love heart. He lightly kisses your exposed fingers, then pats you cheekily on the bum as you pass him.

"Go get your signatures, baby."

thank you for reading! feedback is always appreciated <3

[shuafiles]

young lust [y.jh]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | you and jeonghan couldn’t wait until you got home so he pulled over at the side of the road

PAIRING | idol bf!jeonghan x afab!reader

CONTENT | smut with no plot, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (dont), dick riding, nipple play?, slight choking, swearing

WORDS | 1.9k

A/N | heavily inspired by diet pepsi. im so glad jeonghan isnt bald (yet). this is for my girlies who miss him <3 NOT PROOFREAD

you absentmindedly fiddled with jeonghan’s fingers resting on your lap as he chatted with the boys. your mind began to wander as their laughter filled the air, likely over something funny mingyu had done on stage. it was the company dinner, a celebration of their successful concert, and you were more than happy to be invited by jeonghan and the rest of the group. watching your boyfriend interact with the people he cherished most made you smile. his concert makeup was still intact, he had joked about wanting to show you how pretty he looked up close. though you were used to his humor, you couldn’t help but agree—he really did look so pretty.

amid your thoughts, jeonghan’s hand gently slid from your hand to rest on your thigh. you didn’t mind—it was a familiar gesture between the two of you. he always loved holding you in some way, whether it was his hand on your waist or your fingers intertwined. as long as you were beside him, he felt at ease.

"y/n! what did you think of the show today?" seokmin's voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to face him with a smile. you had grown close with the boys over time. after nearly two years of dating jeonghan, it was only natural that you formed a bond with the people who surrounded him the most.

"it was amazing! you guys always—" your words faltered as jeonghan’s hand slipped beneath your skirt, his fingers brushing against your clothed entrance. your eyes widened, and your thoughts derailed completely. seokmin noticed your sudden pause and tilted his head with concern. 

"are you okay?" he asked, drawing the attention of several others at the table. all eyes were now on you as your breath hitched, jeonghan’s fingers continuing their slow, teasing glide along your core.

"everything alright, my love?" jeonghan’s voice was sweet, but the mischief in his eyes betrayed his innocence. he knew exactly what he was doing, yet acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. it wasn’t his fault that you walked into the room with a fitted black top that perfectly hugged your body. in fact, you knew he loved it when you wore skirts that flared out with your every move. he couldn’t wait to have you all to himself.

you cleared your throat, shaking your head slightly. “i’m fine, sorry. just a bit under the weather.” worried eyes watched you, but sooner or later, everyone returned to their own conversations. making sure that nobody was paying attention to you, you glared at your boyfriend, who wore a triumphant smile on his face.

jeonghan leaned closer to you, his hands cupping your pussy in the process, making you let out a tiny gasp as warmth flooded your body. “i can’t wait to take you home,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with a teasing undertone that made your heart race. his eyes darkened as he stared at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up

as you slipped into the passenger seat of jeonghan’s car, a rush of excitement roared through you. jeonghan settled into the driver’s seat, and as he turned the ignition, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. he turned to face you, grasping your chin between his fingers to place a soft kiss on your lips. body warm in anticipation at the thought of having him. your body leaned closer to him, settling into his touch. he hummed against your lips before pulling away, “let’s get out of here before i can’t control myself.”

the rest of the car ride was pure torture. traffic flooded the streets, and you grew even more frustrated. jeonghan wasn’t helping as he continued to excruciatingly tease you. his hands sliding between your legs, spreading your arousal around your entrance. your underwear starting to feel uncomfortable from the wetness pooling between your legs. at every stoplight, jeonghan would lean over the console to kiss you with such possessiveness, his hand by the nape of your neck just to feel your lips even closer.

“jeonghan,” you breathed out. “i want you now, please.” desperation lacing your voice, jeonghan couldn't help but groan at your needy state.

“hold on, baby.” as soon as the lights turned green, he hit the pedal and pulled up on the nearest empty lot. “get in the back.” your stomach fluttered at his low voice. thank goddess for his spacious car because you hopped in the back with ease, while he stepped out of the car and followed you into the backseat.

you climbed on his lap the second he was seated. lips colliding with one another. his hands roamed your body, sliding the strap off of your top and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. letting the cloth fall, his lips attached to your neck instantly. one of his hands reaching for your breast, giving it a light squeeze before his fingers took hold of your nipple, circling the bud with his index finger and thumb.

“so fucking beautiful.” jeonghan whispered against your skin before entrapping the other nipple in his mouth. moans escaped your lips as your hand flew out to grip his hair, pulling on the strands, which made him grunt against your breast.

you feel his cock grow stiff beneath you, making you grind your hips against his. he pulled away from your nipple, making a light pop sound, before returning his lips to your mouth. his tongue caressing your lips before pushing it between to meet your tongue. you sighed in contentment, pushing your body towards him even more. you felt his hands pull your skirt up your thighs, your soaked underwear on full display for him.

jeonghan pulled his lips away from you, making you frown. he grabbed the hem of his shirt before lifting it off his body and discarding it somewhere in the car. he lifted your hips so that you were hovering above his legs. “how much do you love this pair?” his tone was mischievous as his fingers toyed with the waistband of your lacy underwear.

“i could always just get a new one.”

“good girl.” he smirked before gripping the fabric with his fingers and ripping them apart. you gasped at his actions, not expecting him to be so rough. his eyes darkened with a mix of desire and satisfaction as he admired his work, the now-torn underwear fully exposing your pussy to him.

“i could’ve just taken them off!” you swatted his shoulder, but he only laughed.

“where’s the fun in that?” his hands made their way to the button of his pants, undoing it before sliding the fabric down his thighs, leaving him in his boxers. his cock strained against his underwear, the tip peeking over the waistband, leaving your mouth watering at the sight. you sat back down on his thigh, hand palming him through his boxers. grabbing the waistband of his underwear, you pulled it down with the rest of his pants. his cock sprang against his stomach, tip red, and veins showing all over. “need to get you ready for my cock, princess.”

jeonghan spread his legs, leaving the space below your pussy open. his fingers reaching for your entrance, making you gasp and rest your head on his shoulder. his digits spreading your arousal through your folds before pushing two of them inside you.

“fuck!” you cried out once you felt him curl his fingers, hitting your g-spot perfectly. he knew exactly how to make you feel good. you grind your hips down to meet his hand, desperate for any kind of friction.

jeonghan tutted at your movement, a cocky grin plastered on his face, “so wet for me, baby.” he teased, his fingers pumping in and out of you in a painfully slow manner.

pulling your head away from his shoulder, you glared at him. “jeonghan, please,” you whined, “stop teasing me and just fuck me already.”

he chuckled at your plea, pulling his fingers from your cunt and leaning back against the seat. “my pretty girl, so needy for my cock.” he wrapped his hand around his cock, your slick transferring from his fingers to his length as he pumped himself. “c’mere.” he grasped your waist, lining up your entrance to his cock.

jeonghan rubbed the tip along your folds, grasping his shoulders, you slowly sank onto his cock. you moaned at the feeling of his length expanding your walls. he watched as you bit your lip, face twisting in discomfort and pleasure.

“slowly, baby.” his voice soothed you. soon enough, discomfort turned into pure pleasure, feeling his entire cock inside you.

“oh god, hannie.” you whimpered. his hands fell to your ass, gripping the skin as you slowly began to bounce on his cock. he hissed when you circled your hips, your pace getting faster once you got used to his size.

jeonghan helped you by meeting your thrust, lifting his hips to thrust into yours. your nails digging into his shoulder blades as you held onto him for assistance. gasping at every bounce you did as his cock perfectly kissed your cervix.

“you feel so good, pretty girl, fuck.” jeonghan moaned, eyes trained on your breasts as they bounced along with your movement. he brushed your hair away from your neck, exposing the skin to him, and he couldn’t help but latch his mouth to your chest, sucking and licking the supple skin. toes curling at the sensation, you picked up your pace, relentlessly fucking yourself with his cock. each thrust, leaving you craving more.

jeonghan pulled your body close to him, chests pressing against each other. legs burning from the constant movement, you halted for a second before proceeding to grind yourself on him. his cock deep inside you as you continued to move your hips.

“fuck! i’m so c-close, hannie.” you cried out. rocking your hips in a quick manner. feeling your stomach tighten.

“that’s it, baby,” he whispered, loving the way you’re using his cock to make yourself feel good. his hand reached up to grip your throat, applying just enough pressure. “say you love me, princess.” you gasped as his other hand fell to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud. ���say it.”

“i-i love you! oh my god, i love you so much.” your face scrunching up from his touch. “please, i want to cum, jeonghan!”

“look at me, and i’ll let you cum.” your eyes locked to him. the moonlight perfectly shining on his face, seeing a smile form on his lips as you tried to keep your eyes open. his finger working on your clit. “my perfect girl, let it out, cum all over my cock.”

as if it was on his command, your vision turned white as you came all over his lap, cursing his name in the process. nearly ripping his skin off as your grip on him tightened. feeling you clench around his cock made him release inside you. his warm cum spreading across your walls.

your body collapsed, head falling on his shoulder as you attempted to catch your breath. feeling his hand lazily dragging itself up and down your back to console you. you cringed at the feeling of fluids dripping out of you and onto the seat of the car.

in one sudden movement, jeonghan lifted your body before thrusting you back down, making you yelp. “keep my cum inside, princess, unless you want me to fill you up even more.”

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

→ premise: marc could get possessive, very possessive infact and when that happens he cant seem to hold back.

→ pairing: marc sceptor x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, face sitting, thigh biting, oral [f receiving], nicknames [mine, my girl, sweetheart], possessiveness,

→ a/n: kinktober 06

Marc tended to be a little hotheaded and possessive when it came to matters involving you. It was normally Steven taking the brunt of it, though it made no real sense for him to get jealous. Though in instances that didn’t involve Steven, you were normally able to pull him aside and calm him down.

this was not currently one of those times, the two of you were attending a work party at your office. A coworker of yours had practically pulled you from Marc's arms to go talk. Though his version of talking was him flirting relentlessly and trying his hardest to get you to leave the party with him.

By the time Marc found you again, he was seething in anger at the man. As he walks up he starts noticing your coworker was flirting with you and trying to touch you. Marc had been tired and ready to go home so he let his possessive nature take over, though he knew once it did it was hard to shut off.

“Yeah, hey bud she's with me and we're leaving now” he nearly growls out at the man as his hand snakes its way around your waist when he walks up next to you. His sudden and fuming presence beside you makes you jump slightly though you were grateful for the save.

With a small scoff and not so cleverly hidden eye roll, your sleazy coworker stomps off. You barely have time to question the latter half of Marc’s statement about leaving before he rushes you towards the exit.

The ride home is silent besides the soft hum of the car and the sounds of the night flooding the air through your open window. Marc tight knuckled the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as his gaze was fixed to the road ahead. You’d normally be worried or scared in a moment like this with someone else, but with Marc you knew he wasn't mad at you. He was protective as well as possessive and so he was more pissed off at your scumbag coworker who didn't seem to grasp the concept that you were taken. You were sat clenching your thighs, he looked so good in that damn button up shirt you made him wear to the party that you were ready to stay home, so you were more than happy to be headed back.

In the blink of an eye you’ve made it back home and Marc is quick to jump out of the car and rip open the passenger car door, pulling you out of the seat and throwing you over his shoulder. “Guess I’ve just gotta mark you up sweetheart, that way you go into work tomorrow and all those men you work with know you’re my girl” he explains as he walks towards the house, holding you up on his shoulder with one hand on your waist and the other across your thighs right under your ass. You loved when he marked you, proudly showing them off when you could, though you could never show them off at work sadly, and he knew that.

“Marc I could’ve just walked inside on my own- hey!” He cuts off your protest with a short but solid smack to your ass.

You let out a huff and try to ignore the ache settling deep in your core at the action, your pussy already aching for his touch. You’ve never told him although he already knew that you secretly liked it a lot when he’d get like this. It made you feel wanted, even if Marc had no problem telling you and showing you in a million and one other ways just how much he wanted and loved you.

You let out a squeal when Marc drops you on your back onto your shared bed, you bounce slightly catching yourself by leaning back onto your elbows. Marc stands at the foot of the bed, eyes already full of lust and lidded as they raked over your body. “Strip sweetheart, you’re gonna sit on my face” he commands, his voice oozing with impatience.

You move fast to peel your clothes off along with your soaked panties, quickly un-clipping your bra and letting It fall off your shoulders, discarding it all on your bedroom floor. He's on you within the blink of an eye, maneuvering your bodies so he is laid out on his back, your thighs either side of his head and your pussy hovering over his face.

“My girl, all fucking mine nobody else’s” he growls and grabs ahold of your leg, opening his mouth and biting the inner plush of your thigh. You let out a gasp in both surprise and slight pain, squirming in his grip. He switches over to your other thigh when he is satisfied with the mark his teeth leave behind. He hums against your thigh as he bites down, rubbing softly at your leg to try and soothe you. The pain morphs into pleasure the more you get used to it, the indents of his teeth in your thigh makes your core tighten.

While you're lost in your own train of thought, Marc’s mouth lets go of your thigh with a small pop. He licks over the mark of his bite, a smirk growing on his face, he knew they wouldn't show as you couldn't wear short skirts to your office but he has never been more graceful for an HR rule than that one. Being pleased with his marks he now focuses all his attention on your leaking cunt above his mouth. With his grip on your legs he pulls your body down onto his face, licking a strip through your folds, drinking up your slick.

You moan out in response as your hips involuntarily grind against his mouth. “Mhm! Fuck Marc.. baby~” you whine out as his nose nudges your clit when his tounge licks and pushes through your folds. Vibrations float through your body as he tries to mumble out something against your pussy. Threading your fingers through his messy hair you use that leverage to pull his face away from you. “What was that love?” You question, using the shirt moment his mouth is off you to catch your breath.

“Maybe I’ve gotta put a ring on ya’ finger, that way those assholes at work will definitely know your spoken for, that youre all fuckin mine” he groans and pushes against your grip to dive back in and resume his mouths asssult on your throbbing cunt. His tongue pushing through tour slit distracts you from his statement about potentially proposing to you. Finally giving your aching clit attention, wrapping his lips around it and sucking, even biting softly at the bundle of nerves. His teeth send shivers down your spine, your thighs slightly shaking at either side of his face, he uses his hands gripping onto your legs as leverage to pull you even further down, forcing all your weight to be put on his face.

→ a/n: this wasn’t proofread, i rushed it and i kinda hate it lmao but I needed to get this out, i can already feel my effort and motivation for kinktober dwindling a bit.

[feyascorner]

jealousy looks good on you

summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.

warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. I love morons in love,,

You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.

You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.

You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.

But now here you were, not watching him, but her.

Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.

You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.

She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.

You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—

Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?

You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.

You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.

A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-

The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.

You should trust him, you think.

He's had more experience in this than anyone else.

You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.

“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”

He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.

“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”

Somehow, your face gets hotter.

Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.

“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”

Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”

“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”

“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”

“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”

“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.

Dusting her off.

And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”

He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”

“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”

“Charming.”

You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”

“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”

“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”

“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”

“Why? This feels horrible.”

“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”

You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”

“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”

Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.

The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”

“Silly darling.”

You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.

[lordprettyflackotara]

worthy || sam golbach

The camera was long discarded on the dust filled floor, its light the only source providing illumination of the ancient room. Through its lenses was the sight of Sam’s sneakers, his pants and boxers shoved down to his ankles. In front of him was you, your skirt and panties shoved down to your matching vans. The camera was still recording as he snapped his hips into yours, his cock abusing your g spot as he pleased. “W-what if Colby comes looking for us? We’ve been gone for too long,” You stammered. Sam placed a sloppy kiss against your shoulder, one hand circling your clit while the other cupped your breast. He had you bent over a table in a haunted library, the rows of endless books shielding you from any possible onlookers. “He won’t and if he does, he’ll just hear you moaning my name and he’ll fuck off,” Sam grinned mischievously. He had been teasing you all night, from gripping your waist to rubbing against your clothed cunt in the car.

“But what about the video?” You whispered, whimpering as he squeezed your clit. You were anxiety filled, the dust flooding your nose and eerie faint sounds of dripping water enough to make you nervous. It was erotic and terrifying. “Fuck the video. You’re worth it,” Sam panted. He shoved you fully down on the table, your chest colliding with the wood. “Now be a good girl and shut up and take this dick,” He grunted, ramming into you. You tried to hold back your sinful noises, Sam’s hands grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back. He drew faster circles around your clit, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. His thrust were mercilessly, your short little skirt sending the blonde into a frenzy. “Sam i’m so close, fuck,” You cried. Sam kept his thrust even and steady; relishing in the feeling of you squeezing him tighter. “Cum for me babygirl, cum on my dick. Let the ghost know how good I make you feel,” He teased. Once the two of you were done you continued filming, Sam making a mental note to delete the footage and continuing on with filming the video like nothing had happened.

You both met up with Colby in the car, filming the outro and heading home. You were curled up in Sam’s lap in the backseat, fast asleep as his cum filled your panties. “Find anything crazy?” Colby asked. Sam shrugged, brushing some stray hairs out of your face. “Our camera went out for a bit, but we got some good stuff,” Sam lied. Colby put the car in reverse, driving out of the driveway. “Damn. I’ll take a look and see what happened when I go through the footage,” Colby said. Sam tried to have a poker face, his eyebrows slightly furrowing. “Huh?” He asked. Colby put the car in drive, driving down the old dirt road. “You don’t remember? It’s my turn to edit. I’ve been putting it all on you lately man, i’m gonna make it up to you and have it done by tomorrow morning,” He grinned. Sam gave him an uneasy grin trying to play it cool. Colby gave him a mischievous look in the rearview mirror, before turning on the AC.

“Besides, fuck sleep, seeing that footage is worth it.”

[hawkinsbnbg]

Rockstar Eddie who was obsessed with model Steve and collected every issue that had Steve on the cover.

He had disdained the Harrington’s little prince at first until he hate-watched every interview of the so-called talentless nepo baby and realized that yeah, he was so fucked.

Meanwhile, Steve had no interest in the metal scene, much less a random rock band named Corroded Coffin.

But Nancy said the paycheck was good and Robin had guaranteed that the band’s frontman was definitely his type, so featuring in their MV wouldn't do him any harm.

That was why Steve was here, fishnets and leather shorts, high heels and handcuffs, straddling Eddie Munson who was devouring him with those dark wild eyes.

They were shooting a scene where the two of them met in a strip club with Eddie being a heartbroken man and Steve being the stripper.

To say Eddie was his type was still an understatement. The man was literally his teenage wet dream with those tattoos and sharp handsome features.

Steve had to restrain himself from doing anything unprofessional like catch those plump lips in a heated kiss and said fuck the consequences.

He could barely focus on the camera as he rode the toned thigh while those large hands roamed his bare skin and kneaded his cheek through the leather.

"Been a fan of your work, sweetheart," hot lips trailed down his neck in open-mouth kisses.

"Need me to sign anything?" Steve twirled a curl with his finger.

"Yeah," Eddie smiled playfully and winked at him. "Even better if you use those lipsticks of yours."

Steve would've kissed him right then and there had the director not yelled, "And... Cut!"

And their bubble burst just like that.

Before he could get up from Eddie's lap with disappointment, he was hoisted in a pair of strong arms, steady hands braced under his thighs like he weighed nothing.

And god was it hot to wrap his legs around Eddie's waist and let himself be carried back to his trailer, ignoring everyone besides winking at Nancy’s exasperated eye roll, Robin’s dorky thumbs up, and that pretty blonde Chrissy’s impish smile.

Because hell yeah, Steve was the one scoring a fun night with the Eddie Munson here. Keep talking and looking bitches.

"Wait, what about the MV?" He asked as Eddie settled them both on his couch.

"Don't worry," Eddie pecked his chin softly. "The strip club is our part for the day. We'll only have one scene left tomorrow."

"So what are we gonna do now, Mr. Rockstar?" Steve raised his eyebrow, drawing lazy circles on Eddie’s chest.

"Whatever you desire, sweetheart," Eddie grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss on its back.

And well, Steve would be ashamed if he passed on such a golden opportunity.

So he hooked his arms behind Eddie’s neck and leaned in to whisper against those plump lips.

"Then ruin me, hot stuff."

When the MV was out, it caused a crash on YouTube and was flooded with countless comments about Steddie—the internet’s ship name for a certain rockstar and a certain model who had been together for months and blissfully lost in their honeymoon phase without a care for the world.

Their names were top trending on Twitter and the MV had become a hit thanks to their through-the-roof chemistry.

When they eventually announced their marriage to the world, they received well wishes from their fans, friends, and family.

And a few years down the road, everyone would know about them as that one happily and disgustingly in-love couple.

Til the rest of their lives.

[natriae]

10:23pm

"can i tell ya a secret"

"sure" you whispered in response as you snuggled deeper into Atsumu's neck. The two of you had just gotten home from a long day at work and were ready to fall asleep in each other's arms.

"i thought," he started, giggling a bit, "i thought ya had a crush on sunarin for a long time" you felt him shake his head back and forth lightly before continuing, "i was stupid though"

Without seeing his face clearly you could tell he was scrunching his nose remembering how oblivious he was to your love.

"nah he's not my type," you teased as you moved your body completely over his using him as a bed.

"oh yeah, what is your type?" 'tsumu questioned, wanting to see you face flush from embarrassment. His hand reached for your hair petting it to convince you to lean up and look at him in the face. You lifted your arms up and used your forearms to keep you lifted above his head. Subconsciously, his hands wrapped around your waist keeping you stationed over his lean body.

You giggled as you leaned down so your noses touched as told him, "i like boys who are loud and kinda annoying," you watched his face pout at the comment before leaning down and giving a soft kiss on his lips, "and i like boys who are twins, and love to play volleyball," you furthered your reasoning with your hands playing with his hair.

"oh well that doesn't set me apart to much," he prodded. You moved your legs so they rested on each side of his waist and felt the beginning of a boner form in his boxers. You shook your head and kept talking knowing how much this was fulling his ego.

"i like boys who seem come off as gay," you commented, reminding him that you thought he had a thing for Sakusa before you really knew him. You smiled at his reaction before whispering, "i like boys who have really pretty brown eyes that look a little yellow in the sunlight. I like boys who get pouty when someone does something kind for them," immediately thinking of when he started tearing up at the fact that you and osamu worked hard to make him nice lunches for the Olympics.

"i love boys who have big egos even though it gets on my nerves sometimes," you watched his pouty lips turn into a smirk as red flooded his face in pride. You smiled back and grinded lightly into him as you spoke your next words, "i love boys who are such gentlemen, but whisper dirty comments to me when we're supposed to be serious," you couldn't help but let out a big smile thinking about all the times he's ruined professional dinners by accidentally making you blush to hard. You leaned down and left little kisses up his neck to his jaw, "i looovvee boys who have big bushy eyebrows,"

kiss

"boys who have big meaty thighs"

kiss

"boys who always have a big smile on their face just to cheer everyone else up"

kiss

"and i especially love boys who are super protective and possessive,"

"still can't tell if yer describin' me" he teases with his hands interlocked behind his head and his eyes closed.

"oh really," You leaned up, "i like boys who are lowkey perverts, but won't admit to it,"

His body immediately shot up and held you on his lap, "hey! that's not nice," he shouted with his eyebrows drawn together. You laughed at his reaction before holding his face in your hands.

"i love boys who love their family," you said to cool him down leaving a light kiss on his nose.

Reaching down between you body you pulled his hard cock out of his boxers and moved your panties to the side before inserting it.

You left the joking aside and continued your affirmations as you tried to sink further down his cock without being prepped. "i love boys who's name's start with A, and who love dying their hair because it sets them apart"

"i love boys who love animals and will always swerve on the road if it means the animals are safe." you moved further down his cock, but the moment wasn't sexual. He turned the two of you over so you were on your back as he held himself on top of you. It was nothing more then two people in love.

You stared into his eyes and said, "my type is you and only you". The strong man leaned down and left a small kiss on your lips before letting himself relax complete over your body. He was like a big soft weighted blanket. One arm you had wrapped around his back while the other messaged his hair. "'sumu," you whispered into the night air of the master bedroom, but there was no response just quiet snores from the man on top of you. You giggled and continued to message his scalp.

Moments like these were important, moments where Atsumu was recognized for himself. Miya Atsumu a man who loves his mom more than anything, and would drop everything if his brother needed him, not Miya Atsumu MSBY star setter, not Olympic champion Miya Atsumu, not Osamu's twin, or the golden fox, but his own ordinary person. Who was important for just being himself. <3

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 12

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Cassian and Y/N both have a nightmare and look for comfort within each other. Spending a week out in pure bliss of cooking, meeting with a sweet Illyrian girl and snuggling in bed the couple hit a snag in the road.

Content Warning: Nightmares that depict murder, Asphyxiation, mention of wing clipping and scars. Weaponizing trauma against a victim and cliffhanger

Word Count:4.6K words

Banner used by @saradika

A/N: the last few sneak peeks I posted about are not in here but will be in the next one, I'm so sorry this took so long I was in a funk I couldn't shake! Though I'm not sorry for the cliffhanger.

ACOTAR MASTERLST

My arms were pinned above my head with Xavier’s hand gripping both of my wrists tightly. I writhed under him as he pawed at me. “Dolls, don’t move this much.” With his free hand he gripped my neck and forced his tongue down my throat as he pressed his length against me. Tears warmed my cheeks as my moan of agony was swallowed up by his mouth. “Shhh. It’s alright, it’ll be over soon.” He whispered over my lips as he slanted them down over mine again and I began to squirm. Xavier released the grip of my neck, his leather clad finger touching down my naked body. Until he reached my clit, and I gasped causing him to slither his tongue into my locking me tightly into place as he began to play with me like a toy.

I kept my eyes open as his disheveled blond hair fell forward from his face and tickled my collarbone. He moaned in my mouth as he slid a digit inside me, and I tried kicking my legs. Only the sharp sting of his hand against my core caused me to pause. “Stay still or I will get the spreader bar.” His blue eyes bore into mine with a seriousness that chilled my blood. “Do you understand?”

I steadied a breath, “Yes sir.”

He smiled, kissing me again, the feeling of his mouth on mine made me feel dirty and made me want to shrink into myself. Having enough I bit down on his bottom lip hard. He released me and I rose to my feet and tried to flee. His hand gripped my hair and I screamed, “No!” As Xavier yanked me back and forced me to my knees. “Get off me!” I shrieked.

“Let’s fix that mouth of yours, shall we?” He pressed the tip of his cock against my lips, the precum coating them, He released my hair only to pinch my nose. It didn’t take very long for my lungs to cry out for air, and I opened my mouth. Before he could do anything, a growl emulated from the corner, “Do not touch her.” Cassian’s voice grounded out. His siphons were the only thing I could distinguish as my vision was beginning to go out of focus.

Cassian had come for me, and when I turned to see him, silver glimmered in the illumination of the moonlight, and I screamed but it was too late. Graysen had taken the steel and sliced Cassian’s wings. “Cassian!” I cried out as the assault to his beautiful wings continued. I reached out for him only for Xavier to loop his arm around my waist. “Cassian!” He groaned on the floor, blood pooling underneath him. As I made another attempt to reach out to him. To have my fingertips reach his. “Please wake up, please wake up, Cassian.” I sobbed.

Bolting awake sweat raced down my back and face as I took in my surroundings, realizing I was in my room in the cabin and not in human lands. A little voice in the back of my mind kept saying:

Find him. Find him. Find him.

Rising from my bed I padded my way to the door to go find the General of the Night Courts Armies.

Cassian’s POV

 Screams erupted all around me as my brothers and I raided the camp in search of my mother. Her screams flooded the camp, and I locked eyes with Rhysand and with a dip of his chin I bolted to the sound of her screams. My lungs were burning as I pushed myself to run faster thought my mother's screams were still so far from me. The night breeze pierced my skin as I pushed forward as the outline of the camp came into view.

As I entered the threshold of the camp another bloodcurdling scream rang through the camp, no one stirred, no one came to her aid. Weaving through the makeshift cabins the silhouette of male and a kneeling female caught the corner of my gaze. I changed course and headed in the direction where my mother’s beautiful face came into view. Terror consumed her features as tears ran down her face. “I’m sorry, my sweet boy.” Her voice cracked and Cassian collapsed to his knees. Mother pulled his face close to hers, “Look at how you’ve grown, Sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” She connected her forehead to mine, and I shut my eyes and took in her scent of snow and wildflowers.

“Cassian.” The voice caused my eyes to shoot open, and no longer was my mother’s eyes looking back at me but the familiar hues of Y/N. “Cass.” Her voice was shaky, and her fear was palpable.

I felt arms loop around mine and angrily yanking me back from the youngest Archeron sister, “No! Get off me!”  I thrashed as the two Illyrians pulled me away and the male that was behind Y/N lifted his battle Axe. My siphons roared to life and red power blasted from my body. The two warriors release me and I bolt toward, Y/N as the Axe slices through her neck.

I fall to my knees as the assassin drops the axe, “Long live the queen.” The male murmured barely falling to my ears as the gruesome scene laid bare in front of me.

I could feel the presence of my brothers as they approached and my tears turned into sobs as I lifted the body close to mine, Ignoring the fact her head was not attached and sobbed.

I bolted awake, sweat coating my skin and along my hair line. Pulling my hair up in a bun I sat at the edge of my bed trying to catch my breath. It took a few minutes before I took in my surroundings and realized that I was in the Cabin. Y/N’s room was right next to mine and just needing her in my arms I stood up and headed to find her.

Opening my door, I stepped out to find Y/N emerging from her room. Her face met mine and I could see the tear-soaked cheeks and her gaze met mine. “Hey.” She said tucking her bottom lip between her lips.

“Hey, you.” I gave her a small smile; I rubbed the back of my neck. “I was actually coming to find you.

“Oh?” She gave me a small tilt of her lips upward. “I was coming to find you too.”

Something warmed my chest at her words, and I held out my hand, “Come on, Princess.”

Y/N hesitated, then in a flash she slapped my hand away and wrapped her arms around my waist. Pressing her face into my chest. I heard her release a soft sigh as I coiled my arms around her. “I had a terrible dream.” She murmured.

I pressed my chin to the top of her head taking the scent in. She was here, she was alive, she was in my arms. “Me too,” my hand slides up her back and runs through her hair.

She sniffled and my body went rigid, “Graysen chopped your wings.” She whispered. She pulled back to look at them, her gaze was assessing, and I stilled as I realized she was checking for injuries.

I stroked my thumb against her cheek grabbing her attention, her eyes filled with worry.  “I’m okay, Princess, I flexed my wings so she can see they are uninjured. “My wings are perfectly fine.”

Y/N nodded, “What about you? You said you also had a nightmare,” Her voice a soft whisper and she gripped my hand, her soft fingers a stark contrast my calloused ones.

“I’m alright.” Her brows furrowed causing a little indent on her forehead. I leaned down pressing my lips where that crease resided and pulled away. Satisfaction bloomed in me as her face relaxed slightly, the wrinkles disappeared. I took her hand in my own and I quietly led her back to my room.

“Cassian What are you doing?” She questioned me as I opened my door.

“You have ruined my sleep schedule, Princess. If it’s alright with you, I would like you in my bed.”  Her cheeks tinted with the lightest shade of pink though panic enraptured her eyes, as if she was going back to a memory with Xavier. I tugged her hand lightly, “Hey no,” I leaned down to meet her eye level as my free hand gripped the back of her neck. “Come back to me, Sweetheart.” She blinked once… twice and there she was, my girl.  “I just want to hold you while we sleep.  Your presence comforts me.”  I chewed on the inside of my cheek at the admission.

Y/N gave me one of her toothy grins, one that could make me fall to my knees. “I’d like that. I sleep better when you’re close.”

I pressed my lips to hers for a moment and then kissed the tip of her nose, “Let’s get you to bed.” I adjusted my hands to hold her back and under her knees and picked her up and held her close to my chest. She gripped her arms around my neck and her Jasmine scent immediately calmed me.  “You died.” I whispered as I kicked the door shut behind me and continued and made strides to the bed. I placed her down at the edge of the bed.

Crawling in next to her, she laid her back, her kind warm eyes never leaving mine. “I what?”

Lying on my side and wrapping my arm around her stomach pulling her close. I nuzzled my face in her neck, peppering it with soft featherlight kisses moving up to her jaw and pressing my forehead to the side of her face, “In my nightmare.” I murmur against her skin. “I watched you get slaughtered in my dream. It started off with me looking for my mother and when I found her, she morphed into you.” I could hear her heart begin to race and I tried to rub soothing circles against her clothed side to calm her. “I watched you die. I just…” I paused and released a sigh, pulling away from her. Laying on my back fanning out my wings holding my hand out and felt her soft hand slip into mine and my fingers curled around hers. “I just needed a reminder that you were ok, that you were alive.”

“Darling,” Y/N whispered shifting on the bed and could feel her facing me. “Look at me.” I refused, she pulled her hand away from mine and her cool delicate fingers found my cheek and she lightly pushed my face to meet hers and her eyes held nothing, but warmth and comfort and I could feel a tug at my chest. She sat back, adjusting the pillows against the headboard as she sat back. Her hand still touching my face she lightly tugged, “Come here, Cassian.”

The tone of her voice made me move, and I braced my arms on both sides of her hips, a few loose strands falling from my bun. She swiped them out of my face and then she patted her chest, “Lie down,” My body obeyed her command instantly my arms slid around and gripped her back. My ear pressed against her breast where her heart held a steady strong beat. She was showing me that she was alive. She tugged the bun from my hair, and it cascaded down in every direction. As if she could sense my need for her touch, she began running her fingers through my hair. “Feyre would do this for me when I had a bad dream. Especially when I left Xavier. This was the best thing she could come up with to calm me.”

“Remind me to get her flowers before we go home?” I grumbled, snuggling my head deeper into her chest. “This is nice.”

Y/N kisses the top of my head and begins to hum a soft tune, after a few moments the hums turned into words, and she began to softly sing in my ear. A lullaby I was unfamiliar with. Though I can’t focus on the words as her soft melodic tone seeped into my bones and wrapped around my soul. Her beautiful voice, her fingers massaging my scalp and her strong pulse ringing in my ear my eyes grow heavy. Before slumber can pull me under, I could have sworn she whispered, “It belongs to you anyway.” Then sleep consumed me.

I stirred the next morning to find my head pressed against a pillow.  I lifted my head up blinking away the sleep and found the side of the bed cold. Pans collapsing and clanging on the ground in the kitchen followed by a slew of curses had me sliding out of bed, tying my hair back and following the sound. Making sure to quiet my footsteps I leaned against the door frame leading into the kitchen. Y/N was grumbling picking up the scattered cook wearing her hair in a braid that looked disheveled. Her cheeks were flushed, and I couldn’t help but admire her plump ass as she bent over to put things away, fighting the urge to collide my hand against it with a sharp slap. As she stood, and grabbed something off the counter, I made my presence known, “What’s going on in here?”

Y/N must not have noticed I was here because she jumped and in doing so the contents of the bowl she was holding flew in the air and landing all over her. She turned to look at me and pushed out her bottom lip, “You ruined my surprise.” She mumbled, shaking her head to get the flour out of her hair; a plume of flour swirls around her.

I pushed off the doorframe and approached her as I fought the laughter from escaping my lips. I looked at the contents on the table and my chest heaved. “You were trying to make breakfast?”

The youngest Archeron sighed in defeat, “You were upset last night because of your dream, and you made breakfast for me when I was upset. I was trying to do the same.” She looked at the mess in the kitchen, “Clearly, its not working out and I woke you up in the process. I’m sorry.”

This time I do laugh, and she tucks her head down in embarrassment. I lift her face and wipe some of the flour off her face. “My sweet, Princess. You’re cute. How about this. You go get cleaned off. I will clean up here and we can cook together.

Her face lit up, “Really?” I nodded and she smiled, “I’ll be right back.” She bolts out of the room and called out, “I’ll bring you down a shirt.”

I chuckled and began cleaning up.

The smell of eggs wafted through the kitchen as Y/N whisked the mixture for pancakes and I fried our eggs. She was swaying her hips dancing to whatever melody was in her head, “Do you always do that?”

She turned continuing her little dance moves as she poured the batter onto the pan, “Do what?” Pulling away when she gets a few perfect circles on the pan.

“Dance when you’re doing something?” She looked up and the dancing stopped as she thought about it.

“I guess I never noticed before.” She placed the bowl down, and held out her hand, “May I have this dance, General?” She wiggled her eyebrows her hair neatly put up a Violet bow in her hair wearing her leathers.

I flipped the eggs and glanced at her from my periphery and her eyes shifted from playful to soft and pleading her lips pushed out in a pout. Knowing that I could deny her nothing I tucked in my wings and gripped her hand in mine and my other around her waist as her hand rested on my bicep. I began to sway with her in the kitchen, flexing my bicep muscle every now and then. “We might burn the food.” I pointed her out as spun her around and pulled her back into my arms.

“We might,” She hummed. She smiled, “But we’ll at least have some fun.”  

I rolled my eyes and tapped her butt. “I don’t like wasting food, back to the pancakes, Princess.”

She grumbled and crossed her arms but made her way back to the pancakes and flipped them. Y/N proceeded to swish her hips and as we finished making breakfast, I found myself moving my hips along with her and getting swept up by the invisible beat she was dancing to.

When we finished eating our breakfast, I pressed my lips in a tight line watching as the sun gleamed on Y.N as if the mother was praising her handy work in how beautiful she made her. My lips turned upward as she furiously scratched words into her journal. She was focused and I rubbed at my chest trying to ease the tightness there. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

Y/N looked up from her journal and the sun glinted around her hair like a halo, “Sure. What’s up?”

“The other day when I had to leave because there was an incident that happened at the camp.” She tilted her head and I continued, “A little girl had her wings clipped. It’s a terrible tradition my people have when a girl has their first bleed. They take away their ability to fly, so they can focus on doing housework. It was one of the first thing that was banned when Rhys came into power, but the leaders of the camps still find work arounds.”

There was a tick in Y/N’s jaw, her eyes becoming glassy. She cleared her throat, “That’s horrific. We can discuss that later though, what’s the favor?” She shut the notebook and straightened her posture she reminded me of a solider waiting for orders.

“The little girl, Grace is her name, asked if I could bring you over to visit.” I smiled as her face shifted to one of shock. “She wanted to meet the human who saved her and her family.”

Y/N stood up and pressed a hand to her chest, “I would be honored. Can we go now?”

“Of course, Princess. Let’s get going.”

 We landed back into the camps and placed Y/N down and gripped her hand and walked her over to one of the cabins. She squeezed my hand and took a deep breath. Once we reached the front door Y/N knocked twice and waited as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “You, okay?”

She simply nodded and before she could speak the door opened and both of us had to look down to find Grace looking back up at us. “Hi Cassie! She ran up and hugged my legs. I pressed my hand on the back of her head, my grin growing wide.

“Hi, Little one.” I said and got down on a bended knee and held her tiny hands, “How are you feeling?”

Her eyes beamed, “I feel so strong, though my wings hurt when I stretch them. Will that ever go away?” I opened and shut my mouth unsure what to say but then Y/N cleared her throat and saw Grace realized there was another person with me. “It will pass, with time though every now and again it will throb. It will be more uncomfortable than painful.” She whispered and got down on her knee. “I’m Y/N, I heard your name is Grace.”

Grace lit up at the sound of her name, “Cassie, you kept your promise!”

I placed a hand on my chest in mock offense, “I’m sorry as your General I always keep my promises.”

Grace moved from my embrace and walked toward Y/N grabbing her hand and leading her inside the cabin and I followed behind the two girls. I was greeted by Grace’s mother, her brown hair pinned up, her wings tucked tightly, and she pressed a hand on my arm, “Thank you, General. She hasn’t stopped talking about being brave for her Cassie. Your kindness has made this whole situation easier for both of us.”

I held her hand gently in mind and gave it a squeeze, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t there sooner. I wish I could have prevented it.”

Grace’s mother provided a small, “It may not have been preventable, General.”

“Please call me, Cassian.”  I smiled.

“Diana,” She returned, “Go on Gracie. hasn’t stopped talking about you bring Y/N here.”

I walked deeper into the cabin in the common living space to see Gracie drawing and Y/N coloring alongside her. “Y/N where you hurt like I was?”

I stilled and watched as Y/N’s posture stiffened though she gave a smile, “Yes, a bad man hurt me. I have scars on my back because of it. But we do share one thing in common with each other.”

Grace eyes grew wide, “We do?”

Y/N nodded her body relaxing once more, “Cassian came to help us, when we needed him most.” Gracie looked over to where I was standing. Y/N’s gaze was burning the side of my face and when I met her stare she smiled.  

“He is like a knight in shining armor saving the princess!” Gracie squealed. “We were the princess!”

I smiled and walked into the room, “You sure are!” Grace ran up to me and leapt into my arms and I was quick to catch her.  “Cassie, are you going to marry Y/N?”

Y/N coughed the air becoming tight with uncomfortable silence. I cleared my throat, “I have to know, curious girl, why would you ask that?” I tickled her sides, and she began to giggle.

“Well, you saved her from the bad man, and you were holding her hand when you walked in. You clearly love her.”

I looked at the woman in question her cheeks were flushed but she said, “Well, Cassian is a good male, he will always help someone in need. As for him holding my hand he is aware that I get nervous and fidget, he was trying to bring me comfort.”

Grace furrowed her brow, “But you two must get married. I know you love each other.”

Y/N smiled, “Tell you what we can revisit marriage when we come and visit again.”

Grace gasped, “You want to come visit again?”

I flicked the child’s nose, “Of course we’re coming back, I have to check the bravest female in windhaven.”

Grace puffed out her chest in pride. “I won’t let you down, Cassie.”

I nodded, “You never could!”

“Would you two like to stay for dinner?”

Grace smiled, “Yes they would,” there was no room for argument, and we stayed for dinner.

The next week, Y/N and I fell into a routine, meals together, she would go in the study and write as I went to the camps. We still had not heard from Rhys so I had to assume that they were still in the Summer Court. When I get back Y/N and I would make dinner together and then she would get into one of my shirts and I would hold her close to my chest and we would simply fall asleep.

One day I left for Windhaven to discuss some plans with Devlon and enforcing that the females are aloud to train.

Devlon crossed his arms, “They will train after their chores, Is that simply not good enough?”

I snarled, “They deserve to have the choice to not do the chores if they don’t want to.”

Devlon snorted, “Says the male who is parading human trash around, and she follows you around like a little pup.”

I bared my teeth at him, “Mind your place, Lord. She is under the protection of your High Lord. Your just mad she bruised your pride.”

Devlon lifted his chin the sign of pure arrogance, “I could care less of an opinion of someone beneath me as a human whore, who is sleeping with a bastard born brute.”

I clenched my fist as my jaw ticked, “I will not tolerate your tone, step out of line again, and I will be personally mandating all your men doing the chores while the girls will train.” I took a step closer to him, “I hear you say one more thing about Y/N Archeron, I will not hesitate to sink your teeth in. Are we in an understanding.”

Devlon walked around me and made sure to collide with my soldier, “The females will train. Get out of my Camp, General,” He drawled out my title and left the tent.

Frustration pent up I followed him out and took to the skies to head back to the Cabin.

Once I reached the Cabin, I noticed the fae lights still on, I was later than I anticipated, but I walked in and kicked the snow off my boot and slammed the door behind me. The anger stirring in my gut was festering and I didn’t want my princess to be subjected to that. I stomped up to my room and slammed the door. I sat on the bed and pressed my palm against my eyes to try to relieve the pressure that had started to bloom in my head.

There was a soft knock on my door. “Cass? Are you okay?”

“Go away, Princess.” I murmured and pressed my palm deeper into my eyes. As the door opened.

I heard her footsteps growing near her and I pulled my hands away from my face and leveled a glare at her. She paused and retreated a step, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She spoke quietly, my eyes glazed to her hands where she was picking at her nails, she was nervous. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. I want to be alone.” I barked out. Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair.

When I looked back at her she looked stricken, as if I hit her.  She pressed “Cass, let me help.”

I snorted my rage boiling over as I rose to my feet, and she took an instinctive step back. I barely registered the fear in her eyes, “Tell me, Y/N, how could you help me. You can barely help yourself. Always hoping someone will save you; Rhys, Az, Feyre, are you that incompetent of taking care of yourself. That you resorted to sleeping with an abusive-“

I didn’t get the sentence out before her hand collided with my cheek. “You know I was coming to check if you were okay. I did not expect you to be a prick. I made dinner all by myself, so you came home to warm meal.” Guilt washed over me at her words, “Whenever you feel like acting like a grown adult; come join me.” She turned and headed for the door, “I don’t need a reminder about how low and insignificant I am.” She taps her head, “I hear those words repeatedly in my head, and yet Nesta had never failed to remind me of just how worthless, and beneath her I am.” Her voice cracked and it matched the ache in my heart, “I never thought you would stoop so low.”

Looking up at me I could see the hurt in her tender eyes. “Princess, Wait.” Her shutting the door; the solitary clicks of the door meeting its latch, was the only sound in the room.

For a moment I stared at the empty space where she had stood, then I crumpled to my knees. Tugging at my hair, my brain began to whirl, Hurt, Hurt, Hurt. You Hurt her. I had made her feel the same way she felt with Xavier and Nesta. “What. Have. I. Done?” I whispered as I curled in a ball my wings cocooning me, trying to block out the sobs I heard coming from the other room.

I am a monster.

Chapter 13

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655 @azrielsmate3 @nebarious @tele86 @chelsiemp @fightmedraco @blackgirlmagicforever @fullmoon-94 @thehighlordishere @jenniferpendragon @ray4hotchner @phoenix666stuff @misskennygirl @whitewolfsbitch @highladyivy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @packsvlog @heyyhelloohii @parabatai-winchester @julesofvolterra @lilah-asteria @lyanna133 @mp-littlebit @nickishadow139 @milswrites @eve175

[hees-mine]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬

𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 ⚥ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: smut, unprotected sex, stalking.

Sorry for late updates. I'm feeling under the weather. I’ll finish Kinktober and then start updating regularly again! Hope you like this one. The plot isn’t my strong suit, but I tried. Also I’m not posting in order since I missed so many days :/

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 who sits on the bench at the dog park with binoculars pretending he’s watching the birds, but he’s actually watching you the whole entire time cause ever since he laid eyes on you at the one coffee shop down the road, he couldn’t stop tracking your every move unbeknownst to you of course.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 that approaches you pretending he’s interested in your dog, but in reality, he just wants to get closer to you, and you, being completely unaware of his motives, welcome him with a smile, letting him pet your puppy while you make small talk.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 Before you leave, he’ll pretend to be all shy, mentioning the fact that he’s seen you around before and he thinks that you’re really pretty and would like to get to know you more and so when he asks for your number, you give it to him cause he was sweet and cute and you were actually looking for a boyfriend so why not.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 who puts his number in your phone and quickly checks the names of all your socials so he can stalk you on them later.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 sets up a date for you two later that weekend, and the whole time, he was nothing but the perfect gentleman opening the door, paying the bill, treating you to dessert. He’d excused himself to open a “text from work” on his phone, telling you that he’s in business and that he’s very busy, to which you understood and it’s actually true he is a very busy CEO, but the reason for checking his phone was not to answer texts it was so he could take multiple pictures of you to save in his collection for later.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 later that night, wows you to his bedroom, and even though it’s the first date you feel safe with him enough to remove your silky red dress, revealing your body to him as he hungrily licks his lips at the sight and good thing, he has cameras set up in his room so he can relive this moment over and over again when you leave in the morning.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 wastes no time taking off his clothes, dick so hard its uncomfortable cause he’s been waiting for this for so long, and his dedication finally pays off when he has you under him, a wet moaning mess while he eats you out like a starved animal to then later taking you raw on his silk bedsheets fucking into you slow and sensual so he can memorize every inch of your tight and smooth walls.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 that’s moaning uncontrollably because you feel too good, and the idea of having you all to himself after all this time makes his dick twitch before a flood of cum invades your pleasured walls. Your back arches, and you grip his waist, bringing him closer to your body, forcing him to go as deep as possible until your tiny cunt is brimming over with his thick creamy load, and you panting his name helplessly as he massages your clit to bliss.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 who gives you the best after care a man has ever given you, praising you down from your high with delicate kisses and soft whispers about how good you were for him and nearly slips up about how long he’s been waiting for this night.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 who cleans you up, lets you wear his clothes, and cuddle on his chest all night telling you he’d like to take you on another date if that’s okay, and of course, you say yes because who wouldn’t want to go on another date with him, he’s literally perfect.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐞𝐞 that smiles from ear to ear when you say yes, and as you slowly drift off to sleep, he takes multiple, if not hundreds of, pictures of you while you sleep to add to his collection, which is in the floor bored right beneath the bed where you sleep.

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Scallion (The Surprise, Part 16)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, pregnancy times, vague mentions of sex, very vague mentions of past trauma (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.3k

Summary: You're almost at the third trimester, and Emily decides to take you on a surprise babymoon. The catch: she absolutely will not reveal where you're going. Road trip fluff ensues.

Week 26: The Scallion

You floated somewhere in between sleeping and waking, reluctant to move, relishing the weight of Emily’s arms around you, the warm solidity of her body pressed into your back. It wasn’t often these last few weeks that you woke up with her next to you. She was early to work and late coming back. You knew she was just trying to get everything in order, so that when she went on parental leave, her team would be okay. But you’d missed this, you’d missed her.

You blinked your eyes open, fighting off a stretch so as not to disturb Emily, but jerked up, throwing the covers off when you saw the time. Emily grabbed your arm instinctively, protectively, bleary with sleep.

“What!?” she called, blinking into the sun that streamed through the curtains. “What is it!?”

“It’s 10:30!” you yelled, waddling as fast as you could toward the closet and fumbling as you pulled on a pair of shorts. “I’m supposed to be at work! You’re supposed to be at work!” You poked your head out of a t-shirt, staring at Emily with a mix of frustration and panic. “Why aren’t you at work!? You always get up first. I know because I get up when you get up.”

“Sweetheart, calm down.” Emily chuckled, standing to squeeze your hands in hers and plant a kiss on your forehead. “I’m not going to work today.”

Your annoyance gave way to a flood of concern.

“Are you sick?” you asked, looking at her a bit more closely and placing the back of your hand on her forehead.

“No,” she said, leading you to the bed, even as you were fidgeting to get to your home office and log on to Slack. “You’re not going to work today either.”

“Oh, but I am,” you argued, trying and failing not to get drawn in by her lips tracing down your neck. “I’ve got important stuff to do. Not, you know, catching-serial-killers important, but a little important. It’s kind of hard to play hooky when you work from home. My boss will kill me.”

“What if I told you I already talked to him?” Emily teased, and you pulled back, taking her face in her hands to see if she was being serious.

“You talked to my boss?” You were incredulous. Emily had only met your boss a handful of times, at the company holiday dinner, where they flew you in and put you up at a hotel.

“I did.” Emily placed a warm kiss on the corner of your mouth and stood, leaving you confused and honestly a little worked up. She disappeared down the hallway, her voice trailing back to you. “And you’re not going to work today. Or tomorrow. Or next week.”

She reemerged, rolling two suitcases behind her, presenting them to you with an expression of such self-satisfaction, such unbridled joy and devotion, that you would have acted thrilled even if she’d said she was taking you on a trip to the laundromat.

“Emily Prentiss,” you exclaimed, standing and tucking her hair behind her ear. “Are you taking me on a surprise vacation?!”

“I’m taking you on a surprise babymoon,” she clarified, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing you.

Emily refused to tell you where you were going, not then, not even as you dug into a box of Cheez-Its she’d packed for the road and watched her merge onto I-95 South.

“South?” you commented, handing her a few Cheez-Its as she held out her hand. She nodded, then shrugged.

“Not too far South, I hope,” you said, staring out the window. “I know you didn’t grow up in the South like me, but I meant it when I said Florida’s not safe for us.”

“I’m not taking you to Florida, Y/N,” she scoffed. “I wouldn’t take you somewhere you didn’t feel safe.”

After a few minutes, she continued. “Also, you know I’ll always keep you safe, no matter where we are. I mean, fuck, I’m packing!”

“You are?” you said suggestively, twirling a finger through the hair at Emily’s nape.

She blushed. “Not that kind of packing. A gun!”

You leaned over the center console to kiss her cheek, massaging her shoulders. “Yes, Emily, love of my life, I know you’ll keep me safe, even in Florida.”

You drove in silence for a while when a horrible thought struck you. “You did bring the stuff for the other kind of packing, right?”

“What is this, amateur hour?” Emily replied. “Of course I did.”

You loved road trips. You were a passenger princess down to your very core. You loved choosing the podcasts and the music and handling the snacks and holding Emily’s hand as she drove. But you weren’t used to being six months pregnant on a road trip. You had a hard time getting comfortable, shifting and squirming in your seat. And you had to pee all the time.

You’d already stopped for lunch and a bathroom break once, but you were starting to feel the pressure yet again. You were passing through Norfolk, Virginia, and the further South you got, the more conscious you were of cities. You’d stopped at enough rural Southern gas stations to know that sometimes it was hard to find ones that felt safe. You knew that’d be doubly true now, as a visibly-queer, pregnant couple. Emily alone could pass as straight, except around other queer people, who clocked her almost immediately. You, on the other hand, looked queer. It was dangerous enough for you in the South, depending on where you were. Pregnant? And with a wife? You knew it’d be worse.

“How much longer?” you asked.

“What are you, six?” Emily teased.

You huffed, pouting. “No, I’m six months pregnant with your baby, and I have to pee all the time and my back is killing me.”

You immediately regretted snapping as you watched Emily’s face fall. “I’m sorry, honey,” you said, rubbing the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry. You’re doing something so nice for us, and all I can think about is my next pee break.”

She cracked a smile and lifted your hand to her lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. “It’s okay,” she assured you. “I forget the little rapscallion is taking up all your bladder space. We’ve got about two hours left. I’ll find somewhere for us to stop.”

You gasped and pointed out the window to an exit sign. “Emily, look, look, look! Cracker Barrel!”

She gaped at you. “That’s where you feel safe peeing?!”

“They’re LGBTQ-friendly,” you protested. “And they’ve got those candy sticks like Little House on the Prairie.”

As you pulled into the parking lot, she looked apprehensively at the rocking chairs, the old, straight couples making their way in, the several lifted trucks.

You clambered happily out of the passenger seat, Emily trailing behind you, hand lightly grazing her concealed carry holster. She felt nearly assaulted by kitschy Southern goods upon walking in, making sure you’d made it to the bathroom before looking around. So much stuff. All with dumb sayings like, “Bless your biscuits and gravy,” or “All I need is Jesus and coffee.”

It was moments like this that Emily realized just how different your upbringing had been than hers. Of course, Emily’s childhood was anything but normal, but her home environment had been–she thought–rather generically American. But you! You’d expanded her ideas of the South as a racist, bigoted, ignorant monolith because you were none of those things. You were one of the smartest people she knew, the kindest and least judgmental. She hated when people made assumptions about you based on where you were from or on the fact that you said “y’all.” She hated even more that, a decade ago, she would have made those exact same assumptions.

“Hey,” you said, startling her. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Emily breathed, conscious and a little sad to notice how you stopped yourself from looping your arm with hers, from using pet names, from doing anything to suggest that you were more than friends. “Did you get your prairie snacks or whatever?”

“Yep!” You grinned and held up a fistful of colorful, striped candy sticks.

Another hour in the car and you were dutifully sucking on a strawberry lemon candy stick, bouncing your head in time with Salt-N-Pepa’s “Whatta Man.”

“This song makes me think of you,” you observed out of the blue.

Emily cackled. “What!? Why!?”

You grinned. “Because you’re crazy and you make me laugh and I do want to have your baby!”

She laughed, and it made your heart soar. She was so pretty when she laughed, really laughed. It was something not a whole lot of people got to see.

“So I’m the man in this scenario?”

“No!” you argued. “Sometimes I’m Whatta Man. Just depends on how I’m feeling. That’s what’s great about being gay.”

“Mm, I don’t know, I can think of a few better things about being gay,” Emily said, squeezing your thigh.

As the car approached a bridge and a big, blue expanse of water, you sat up straight and craned your neck.

“Water!” you exclaimed, looking for signs to identify it. “The Currituck Sound?” Your heart leapt and your stomach did somersaults.

You turned to Emily, nearly falling on her to lean over the console. “Are we going to the Outer Banks!?” you squealed.

Emily nodded, smiling big.

You were nearly bursting with excitement. “That’s where my family always went! Before…” Well, before your family hadn’t been able to go anymore.

“I know it is,” Emily said, holding your hand. “I got us a little beachfront house with a balcony and a hot tub right down the street from where your family used to stay in Nags Head.”

“How did you know where it was?!” you asked, breathless, bringing Emily’s hand to your lips and kissing it again and again.

“I called your mom,” she smirked.

“God, I love you so much.” You rolled down the window and hung your head out like a dog, much to Emily’s amusement, smelling the salty, briny air that was so familiar and so nostalgic to you.

Half an hour later, you were pulling down a sandy drive on a street that was synonymous with childhood happiness. Your mom had grown up here, and you’d spent your summers as a young child tramping about the marshes, boogie boarding, identifying shells, and building sand castles. You remembered fish fries on the back porch, how you always hid from your grandfather as he cleaned the fresh-caught flounder and red drum. You remembered ice cream cones dripping down your fingers, washing them off in the surf. The fresh, almost sandpapered feeling of emerging from a shower after a day spent outside. The way your body still rocked with the waves when you crawled into bed at night.

You were beyond thrilled to share it with Emily. It was as if you were inviting Emily back in time, to a place you had felt so deeply yourself. You couldn’t wait to be there with her. To show her all the shell shapes and watch the sunrise and tell her about the dunes and how important they are. You couldn’t wait to fall asleep rocked by Emily and by the memory of the waves.

As you stepped out of the car and followed Emily up the stairs and into the house, you both stopped and stared at the wall of sliding glass doors. The perfect ocean, mellowed in the late afternoon light. The sound of the waves crashing was music to your ears. You wrapped your arm around Emily’s and took her hand, planting a kiss on her shoulder and leaning into her. You didn’t know how it’d be possible to be happier.

And then it hit you–you could come back with the baby. You could come back again and again, just like you had when you were little.

“Em,” you said quietly.

“Yeah, baby?” She moved to wrap her arms around you from behind, resting her palms over your baby bump.

“Can we come back here? With the baby?”

You could feel Emily’s breath on your neck.”I booked this week in June for the next three years.”

And the fact that she’d brought you here, that she’d known this is where you’d want to be, where you’d want all of you to be–it brought tears to your eyes. She was starting a tradition. No, she was restarting a tradition, in a new way, that would fit your new family. It was perfect. She was perfect.

“Hey, now,” she said as you sniffled, wiping your eyes. “No tears.” She kissed you softly, lovingly, running her thumbs back and forth along your cheekbones.

When she pulled away, you were smiling, eyes twinkling and mischievous.

“You want to go put your toes in the water, don’t you?” Emily grinned.

You nodded, and grabbed her hand, pulling her after you. Out the back door, across the boardwalk that protected the dunes, running as fast as your little pregnant body could take you until you hit the water. It was cool and salty and strong and you felt happier than perhaps you’d ever been–especially as Emily joined you.

And as she watched you kick around in the water, hair blowing in the salt air, cheeks red with heat and excitement, she knew she’d done good. She’d done good with it all. With the beach house. The Outer Banks. With deciding to have a child with you. With choosing you. You were just right. You were perfect. She could watch you forever, content to bask in your joy. As if you were the sun. And, to Emily, you were.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Okay, I think the situation between Mama Spade and Lilia is absolutely hilarious! I can't but think of Silver and Deuce hearing rumors beforehand that Lilia is going to like to propose to her sometime at Family Day and then spying from out from bushes or trees if that is true and once it happens, it turns out that Lilia just was giving Mama Spade a Ring Pop because he is proposing they go out on a date not necessarily proposing marriage like the rumors claim. Maybe Lilia could also tease them a little or something because he thinks it's funny they assumed that he was actually going to ask Mama Spade to marry him, the silly boys😂

(Hope this request makes sense and I'm excited to see what you will come up with 🥺)

[Referencing this interaction! (Please be warned that it may be OOC; we hadn't formally met Deuce's mom at the time of writing that initial interaction.)]

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"I heard Deuce's mom and Silver's dad have something going on."

"I saw them flirting under the apple tree."

"He's going to propose to her before the day's over."

It was that flurry of rumors that the resulting worry that had led Deuce here: in the bushes, where the leaves and branches shielded him from sight. What he hadn't expected was to crash into another body, to be staring into a pair of aurora-colored irises in the dim space between the shrubs.

On instinct, Deuce opened his mouth--but Silver quickly clamped a hand over it, signaling with his other hand to keep quiet. The first year nodded obediently. A silent agreement was made; this was a mission they were in on together.

They peered out from their hiding spot and into the courtyard.

"You haven't had a chance to grab lunch?" Lilia Silver's dad was saying, brows raised in surprise. He addressed a woman with a navy bob, blonde stripes running through it.

She stuck out like a sore thumb among the other adult women in attendance. Instead of a dress or a pantsuit, she was in jeans and boots, a utility belt looped around her waist. Her jacket and cap were emblazoned with White Rabbit Deliveries' logo. A black spade earring shone on her ear, and her makeup was simple: nude lipstick and a faint golden shimmer on her lids.

"No, it's just been so busy today!" Dylla confessed. "I'm not used to sitting in so many meetings. It's usually me, the truck, and the open road. I got so caught up with everything else that eating must've slipped my mind."

"My, that's no good--no good at all. You need nourishment to keep your energy up," he said with the shake of his head. "I believe you're in luck though. I happen to have something to lift your spirits!"

"Really now? You managed to find time to prepare a surprise for me?" Dylla laughed. "Are you magic?"

"I can be, if you'd like." The reply was teasing, said in a tone that suggested something more.

"Haha, what is that supposed to mean?"

Deuce tensed.

Silver's dad was reaching into the pocket of his slacks. His hand, closing around an object he couldn't yet make out.

A ring? Deuce's stomach lurched. B-But...

His mom's promise hit him hard and fast.

“H-Hey now! I may have been a little swept off my feet by him, but I’m not marrying the guy!! No shotgun weddings here!! Wh-Who even marries a stranger they met in a day?!”

Mom... Did you lie to me back then to protect my feelings?

He began to shake all over, filled with an emotion that didn't quite have a label. No, it was all of his emotions at once flooding him. Silver frowned, laying a sympathetic hand on his underclassman's shoulder to soothe him.

"Dylla--May I call you that?"

"Yeah, of course. It'd be weird to keep having you call me 'Mrs. Spade' after all this time we spent together."

"Then I have an important question for you, Dylla. A question so important it may just change the trajectory of your life forever."

"What is it?" She leaned into him, lowering her voice to a whisper. Her eyes shone like pools of starlight. "You're being so mysterious."

He lifted his hand from his pocket, fingers still closed around whatever was in his palm. Deuce caught a glimpse of a sparkle between the index and thumb. His heart stood still.

"Dylla Spade. Will you do me the honor of--"

Deuce couldn't help himself. He tore away from Silver, launching out of the bushes with a roar, his arms flailing wildly.

"ST~OOOOOOP...!!"

The adults startled. Deuce stood before them, panting heavily, teary eyed, some leaves and a few sticks caught in his hair. He doubled over, clutching his knees.

"P-Please, Mr. Silver's Dad...!! If you want my mom's hand in marriage... YOU'LL HAVE TO GET THROUGH ME FIRST, SO PUT'M UP!!" Deuce raised both hands, clenched into threatening fists. In spite of his tears, he attempted to look fierce. "C'mon, let's GO!"

"D-Deuce?! Hold on, sweetie--what's this about?!" Dylla demanded.

An awkward cough sounded from behind him.

"I apologize for the intrusion, father... and Mrs. Spade," Silver muttered. "I tried to stop him, but..."

His father looked at Deuce, then at his own son.

Then he burst out into peals of laughter.

"Kufufufu! I see, I see. So this is what you were up to while we hit it off. Sneaking around and spying on the adults, are we? Naughty boys," he tutted. "What strange ideas you came up with and allowed yourselves to be taken in by."

Deuce blinked. "S-So... You're NOT proposing to my mom?"

"Proposing!!" Dylla smacked her son on the arm. "You're not serious, Deuce!!"

"B-But it really did look like he was going to..."

"Did I?" Silver's dad chuckled, opening his hand. Nestled square in his palm was a comedically large candy gemstone set on a plastic band. "I was merely going to offer this snack I had been saving to enjoy for myself later."

“… O-Oh.” Deuce turned as red as his dorm leader when he was livid. Embarrassment blazed in every one of his blood cells. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Silver sighed, relieved. “Thank goodness…”

“S-So sorry about that!!” Deuce hurriedly bent into an apologetic bow. “Please forget you saw anything!!”

“It’s alright. No harm, no foul!” Silver’s dad glanced at Dylla, his mouth curling. “Though of course, I was also intending to invite the lady on a no-strings-attached lunch outing if she was interested~”

Dylla’s eyes widened. “You really are a charmer.”

He winked back. “Oh, I know. Should I take that as an emphatic yes then?”

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” she said, roughly running a hand through his hair. It was left a mess, but he only laughed and popped the candy ring upon her naked finger.

Huh… I’ve never seen mom smile like that, even when she was with dad.

“… Hey, Silver-senpai?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think your dad and my mom are…?” He couldn’t complete the sentence. Didn’t have the courage to. “… Never mind.”

I don’t need to know right now. All that matters is that they’re happy as they are.

[megalony]

My Squad- Part 3

This is the newest part of my Evan Buckley series, thank you for all the lovely messages so far I hope everyone likes this next part.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@butlegendsneverdie@langdonzvoid@jennyggggrrr@rogmeddows@radiob-l-a-hblah@rogertaylorsbitontheside@chlobo6@rogertaylors-lipgloss@sj-thefanthefan@omgitsearly@luckytrashgooprebel@scarsout@deaky-with-a-c@killer-queen-ofrhye@bluutac@vousmemanqueez-blog@jonesyaddiction@milanosaurus@httpfandxms@saint-hardy@7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls@mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Series Taglist: @paramedicnerd004 @embersflame @allmybattleships

911 Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Evan hasn't been with the team long and has kept his family a secret, but now he is ready for the team to meet his daughters. All of them.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh, where's Cora gone, where is she? There she is!" A grin broke out on Evan's face as he moved his hands in front of Cora's eyes before waving his hands out at his sides and leaning down to kiss her nose. He loved the way she smiled and showed her two tiny front teeth when she grinned, gurgling and pawing at him.

He covered her eyes again with one hand before gasping and leaning down, laughing as she squealed and grabbed his nose.

"Let's go shopping," He murmured at her, lifting her from her carseat to tuck her up against his chest. He could feel her tiny hand grabbing at his chain like the magpie she was and it only made Evan smile more when she started to gurgle and make little noises into his cotton shirt.

With Cora safely nestled in his left arm, Evan shut the door and rounded the other side of the truck. He opened the front door so Angel could hop out before he moved to the back door to get Ella.

He had done a twenty-four hour shift yesterday and was desperate to spend some time with his girls and that meant bringing them with him to do the weekly shop. He'd left (Y/n) asleep on the sofa, satisfied that she'd managed to drink two protein shakes and felt a bit better than she did the other day.

Evan liked doing the food shop, he had a system and he was always in and out and the girls were good. They were all nervous in their own way and attached to him so they never strayed or played up which made life so much easier for him. Cora stayed in the trolley and Ella was tired so she would sit in the trolley too so she could be close to Evan. And Angel would help grab food off the shelf and load up the trolley.

They were a well-oiled machine.

"Off we go, girls. Stay close," Evan held Cora in one arm and Ella perched high on his other hip with her arms coiled around his neck possessively. And when he looked down at Angel, she stuffed her hand in his jean pocket so he could feel her close by and make sure she didn't wander.

He knew once the next girl- or boy- came along, the truck was going to have to be traded for something else. It was a six seater, three in the front and three in the back, but it would be too cramped to fit three car seats in the back as three of his girls would be under the age of six and Angel was still on a push up seat too.

Once they crossed the road, Evan watched Angel skip ahead and grab one of the larger trollies that they always used.

"Okay," Evan bent down so he could set Ella on her feet and kissed Cora's forehead while he moved her round to perch in one of the two baby seats at the front of the trolley. He cooed down at her, grinning from ear to ear while he untangled her hand from his gold chain she was mesmerised with and clipped the tiny belt around her waist. "Come here babygirl."

Ella wiggled into the seat, trying not to push or nudge Cora who had started to hang her hands down on the handle bar until Angel held out her teething toy she grabbed from the jeep.

A gentle smile flooded Angel's face when she felt her dad hold her shoulders and move her between his legs and the trolley so she could stay close and feel safe. Evan arched his back out, folded his arms over the handlebar that all three girls were holding onto, and started a slow walk into the shop.

They headed through the doors and turned the corner towards the fruit and veg. They had a system, they wandered down each aisle and Evan let the girls pick a lot of the stuff. He had a mental note of the main things they needed but it was always easier to quickly go down every aisle than follow a list and traipse round the shop three times for whatever was written down.

He tapped Angel's shoulder and pressed his finger and thumb together into the okay sign, moving his hand from left to right before holding his index and middle finger out in a straight line into the fruit sign.

"Any fruit you want," He pointed towards the crates and nodded so she could dip beneath his arm and pick something out. "What about you baby, what fruit do you want?" Evan didn't need to ask, he knew what the answer would be which was why he pushed the trolley further ahead towards the berries.

"Strawberries," Ella grinned, watching her dad mouth the same word at the exact same time with raised brows and curved lips. He grabbed a punnet and placed it behind her in the trolley. "Daddy…"

"Ella," Evan repeated in the same sing-song voice as he moved his hand to hold hers that had moved out towards his chest. He waited patiently for her to meet his gaze with those big blue eyes and fluttering lashes and that same perplexed smile she had when she asked him random questions.

"You know mummy's new baby,"

Evan's eyes narrowed but his smile remained while his intrigue heightened. He watched his middle daughter take his hand and hold it out in front of her like she was examining it. She traced her fingertip over each finger and moved to draw the lines and creases in the palm of his hand before she looked back up at him.

"I do, what about it, girlie?"

"Is it a girl?"

For a brief second, Evan turned and looked over at Angel, nodding when she held out a honey melon for approval before she delicately placed it in the trolley. When he saw she was holding the edge of the trolley, he slowly pushed his weight on the handlebar and they started walking further up. Angel grabbed the veg Evan pointed to while he reached his thumb out to brush against Ella's chin, making her smile.

"I don't know, it might be. I can't exactly choose, why'd you ask?" He knew there was a reason behind her sudden curiosity and he wanted to know what Ella actually wanted to ask. She was building up to it, he could see it in her eyes that were finally looking up at him.

"Make it a boy, daddy." Her eyes flitted around, searching for some sort of confirmation in his blue orbs but when he grinned, Ella whined and tugged on his hand.

"Why a boy? You want a brother this time?"

When they were expecting Cora, Ella didn't really understand what it meant or what was happening. She had always patted (Y/n)'s growing stomach and curled around it but she didn't comment or ask questions. Not until she saw Evan walking in the front door with a new bundle in his arms and she immediately started to cry. Up until that point, she had been his little girl and Cora changed the dynamics.

This time, Ella had more of a grasp of the situation. She understood that there was a baby in (Y/n)'s tummy and that there would be a new baby in the house soon.

It was different with Angel, she didn't have the same jealousy that Ella possessed. Angel liked playing with Cora and dressing her up like a doll and she liked looking after Ella and being the big sister. Plus Angel knew she was the first born, she remembered auntie Maddie always telling her she was called Angelica because Evan fell in love with his 'little angel' the moment he laid eyes on her.

Evan had different connections with each of his daughters, Angel was his first girl, Ella was his clingy baby girl and Cora was his sweetheart who always stopped crying the moment he picked her up. And when the next baby came along, he would have a new dynamic with them as well.

"No more girls daddy. No."

"Oh, are you giving me an order, Eleanor?" Evan curled his fingers and pointed his index finger at her until she squirmed and whined. "Explain."

"Baby should be a boy, you have girls a-and if you have another, I won't be babygirl anymore." Ella pulled his hand until she could nuzzle her cheek against his palm but she frowned when Evan chuckled at her. He wasn't being fair, he was laughing when she was being serious, she knew her dad could do anything. He was a brave firefighter and he could make the new baby a boy if he wanted to. If she wanted him to.

"Ella, listen to me baby," Evan kept his elbows on the handlebar and moved both hands to cup her face. "Angel is my big girl, my first Angel. Then there's someone called Eleanor, who's my babygirl. And I've got Coraline, my little button, and mummy who's my best girl. You'll always be my baby, if we have a girl I'll find another name for her and if it's a boy, I will be shocked. Okay?"

Part of Evan had felt guilty when Ella was born. He was guilty that he called his first daughter Angel because he thought when they were older Ella would be upset or felt he was favouring Angel for her nickname. He had never really called Angel babygirl, she was always his little star, his angel without wings.

And Ella had always been called his babygirl, something she was attached to and answered to every time. Cora was his button because of how delicate and small she was when she was born, and referencing the movie (Y/n) loved.

Whether they had a girl or a boy next, Evan would find a nickname for them and it would be unique and especially for them. Although he would be gobsmacked if he had a son for the first time after three beautiful daughters. He wasn't so sure he was supposed to have sons, he was a girl dad through and through so far and he was committed to it. The girls were his life, his team, his squad and they meant everything to him.

"Okay daddy,"

"Alright, now let's do some shopping." Pulling her close, Evan pressed a sloppy kiss to her temple before he sped up the pace and headed down the next aisle with Angel trotting at the front of the trolley. Happily oblivious to the conversation they were having.

Every few seconds, Angel turned around and pointed at some bread and biscuits and crumpets on the shelves, waiting for a thumbs up from Evan to know what to put in the trolley. And Ella would whine and make grabby hands at whatever she wanted which Evan would check and approve to make sure she wasn't allergic to anything in them.

He was starting to get worried at the growing list of allergies Ella had which neither Angel, Cora, (Y/n) nor Evan were allergic to. She was a mystery.

Moving the trolley to the end of an aisle, Evan grabbed a pack of eggs and kissed Cora's temple when he put them in the trolley. He held her grabby fist that was always reaching for him and swayed her hand for a minute before he went to get something else.

"Cake? My cake?" Ella held her left hand out flat and curled her right hand into a claw and started to bash her right hand down on her other palm. Making the sign for cake to her big sister who was stood near the large display of cupcakes.

Angel nodded and turned towards the shelves, scouring through until she found some vanilla cupcakes that looked like the special ones they bought. They always bought cakes that didn't contain milk rather than have special cake for Ella and different ones for the rest of them. It didn't taste too different and it was safer in case Ella got confused and ate the wrong one.

Grabbing the box, Angel turned on her heels and lifted her chin towards Evan who was heading back to the trolley.

"Daddy?" Her voice was meek and timid but she caught Evan's attention when she held up her hand, pressed her thumb to her forehead and pulled her hand away. The sign for dad.

Her fingers half-bent and her thumb curled into her palm for the sign of E before she held the cake box out and made a claw with her other hand, tapping her hand down on the box. She didn't want to put them in the trolley if they weren't the right cakes for Ella.

"Pass them here," Evan scrutinised the fine print before he nodded and put them in the trolley.

"Thank you," Ella pressed her fingers to her chin and made the sign at her sister.

Evan cooed at Cora again and bent down to rub their noses together when she started to squeal and make a few strange noises around her teething ring. He steered the trolley down the meat aisle with Angel half a pace in front of him and rounded into the tins.

He threw a few things in alongside Angel before she turned towards him. She curled her hand into a fist, holding out her index finger and moved her hand in front of her, curling her finger repeatedly. The sign for cereal.

"Go ahead, but stay close." Evan didn't like Angel wandering too far ahead of him.

It was easier if she was behind him because he could turn and sign and talk to her but if she was in front, it was harder to gain her attention and she didn't always turn around often. Sometimes he had to run up behind her and gently grab her shoulder so she knew it was him and not some stranger sneaking up on her. But Angel knew to stay close to him wherever they went and she was too nervous to stray far from her parents anyway.

"Jelly, daddy, mummy wants jelly for baby," Ella tapped the shelf beside her and watched Evan card through the packets until he found the raspberry one. (Y/n) didn't normally like jelly, the texture was off-putting but their newest baby had a craving for it.

"Yes she does, what one do you want baby?"

Angel dragged her fingertips along the edge of the shelf, feeling the different boxes quake and move beneath her touch as she scuttled to the end of the aisle. The cereal was on the next aisle to the right and she wanted some of the chocolate cookie cereal (Y/n) had bought her last week.

She barely turned round the corner when she collided with someone. She stumbled back a few steps, coiling her arms into her sides and closing her eyes for a second before she dared look up and see who she had ran into. She hadn't expected anyone to be that close to the corner she was curving around.

Her eyes looked up to see a man a bit older than her dad, staring down at her with intensive eyes that unsettled her and a curling lip like a dog snarling at her.

Angel could feel her hand trembling as she curled her fingers into a fist and quickly brushed her fist over her chest in repetitive circles, whispering a quiet 'sorry' along with the sign. She didn't like talking in public, she couldn't tell how loud she was being or if she was being too quiet and her pronouncing was very off. She could only tell by her parent's approving nods or their tentative smiles whether she was correct or needed a bit of tweaking to her words.

Her eyes darted down to the floor and her mouth fell open when she saw she had knocked two boxes of cereal and about three small boxes of teabags out of his hands by mistake. Without thinking, Angel squatted down and reached out to gather the items up that had spread across the floor.

Her skittish eyes dragged around the floor to see if she had grabbed everything but she couldn't hear him telling her to stop.

Adrenaline burst through her chest and a scream left her lips when she suddenly felt a hand coil around her shoulder and give her a sharp shove. Her trembling hands dropped everything back onto the floor and she tipped backwards on her heels and fell back onto her bum.

The impact didn't hurt but she could feel tears welling in her eyes as she looked up at the stranger like a deer caught in the headlights.

When he leaned down like he was about to either shout at her or try and touch her again, Angel whipped her head to the right and locked her eyes on her dad. She could see the thunder burning in his eyes and how red his face was starting to turn but she couldn't work out what he was saying. His lips were moving too fast for her to work out but he looked like he was shouting.

Her hands shook so badly she could barely hold them out straight. She held her left palm out, curled her right hand into the thumbs up sign and started to bash her fist down onto her left palm.

Help.

Evan's heart pounded in his chest as he bolted down to the end of the aisle, leaving Ella and Cora a few feet behind him in the trolley so they were close by but not next to whatever scene was playing out with his other daughter. He could feel the fury radiating through him when he noticed Angel was crying and she was shakily trying to sign for help.

As soon as he was beside her, Evan grabbed her beneath her arms and picked her up. He placed her a few feet back and stood in front of her with his left arm curled behind him, holding her hip to keep her safely behind him like a human shield for his girl.

He could feel her fingers curling around his trouser leg and her face buried in his lower back just next to his left hip.

"Did you just touch my daughter?!" Anger dripped off Evan's tongue like venom as he looked the elder man up and down.

He was an inch shorter than Evan with hair fading to grey and stubble covering his chin but it was the displeased look on his face that sent Evan reeling. He looked at Angel like she was some kind of inconvenience or a child terrorising him. But Evan had seen his daughter try to pick up whatever was on the floor so he guessed she had bumped into him by mistake.

He heard the stranger angrily tell her to stop- which she couldn't hear- but he went livid when he watched him push his daughter. How dare he think he had any right to try and touch her or get stern with her. She was being kind, she was being considerate picking his items up off the floor when she didn't have to.

"She ran into me-"

"Yeah, by accident and she was trying to apologise."

He held his hand out and shook his palm to try and get his point across while his other hand stayed behind him and rubbed up and down Angel's back to calm her down. At least she couldn't hear what was happening. He let his eyes dart back to the trolley where Cora was gurgling and Ella was watching with worry in her eyes. He had to keep watch over all his girls and keep them safe.

"I told her not to, she should have been careful-"

"No, I don't give a fuck-" Evan curled his hand into a fist and pointed his index finger at the stranger who was really starting to rub him up the wrong way. He was being snarky and inconsiderate and Evan was going to lose his temper. "You do not lay a hand on my daughter or talk to her like that. Get the fuck back."

He pressed his palm into the man's chest and gave him a rough shove back to add some space between them. He had no right to push Angel or try to grab her, he had frightened her when he should have let her pick the items up and hand them back to him. She said sorry and she made amends, he was in the wrong here.

"Don't touch me-"

"Don't touch my daughter."

"She needs to learn some manners."

"Manners?!" Angel took a step back when Evan let go of her and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt. He shoved him back into the shelf behind and pinned him up against the baked goods. "She's deaf and she was signing for help because you frightened her! Manners is having some respect for a child and letting her pick up the shit you dropped. If you want manners, you apologise to my girl before I deck you."

"Help daddy," Angel made the sign for help twice before she raised her thumb to her forehead and signed dad. Her eyes locked on three familiar faces just down the next aisle. The colleagues from her dad's place of work.

"Buck, what're you doing?"

Bobby let go of his trolley and ran towards the scene along with Eddie and the pair of them grabbed one of Evan's arms each and pulled him back before he did something he would regret. Their large shop for the station meals was long forgotten when they moved over towards Evan. While Chimney held Angel's shoulder and moved her a few feet away towards the trolley where Cora was making strange noises and Ella was repeating 'go daddy!' not understanding the situation.

"I'll call the police-"

"Go ahead and I'll tell them some stranger thought he had the right to grab my daughter in the middle of the shop and push her!"

Evan riled in their arms but he held his hands out and sighed when the man shivered and stormed off. He knew he wasn't going to win this argument and if the men let go of Evan for one second, he knew he would be caught up in a fight he didn't really want. He was in the wrong and everyone would know that if the police got involved.

"Buck, wanna explain what that was all about?" Bobby patted his shoulder while Eddie dragged him a few feet towards the girls and away from the crowd that was starting to gather.

"Angel bumped into him and he fucking pushed her down, he frightened her I- I thought he was gonna hit her." His chest heaved and pounded to gain back his breath but he froze when Angel pulled away from Chimney and shot forward to wrap herself around his legs.

He bent his knees and scooped Angel up into his arms, sitting her safely on his hip so she could curve her arms around his neck and burrow down into his chest like she was a toddler again. Evan cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer so he could merge his lips with her temple and reassure himself that she was indeed alright.

"I've got you, Angel."

"Come on, we'll do our shop alongside yours." Bobby patted Buck's shoulder and motioned towards Eddie to go and grab the trolley they left behind. It would be wise to follow Evan for the remainder of his shop in case anything else happened while they were all here.

"Aren't you a cutie?" Chimney whispered, tuning out of the conversation and into his own interaction with Cora who had taken it upon herself to grab his hand and start gnawing on his index finger.

***

A groan bubbled up at the back of Evan's throat and he moved his head, nuzzling his face down into the back of (Y/n)'s head to try and get comfy again. He could feel he had his right arm draped over her waist and he used it to his advantage and pulled her closer until her back was glued up into his bare chest.

He brought his knees up until they were curved beneath (Y/n)'s bent legs and his groin was pressing up into her bum.

He let his hand smooth up and down her bare stomach for a minute while he breathed in her scent and tried to get comfy again and settle back down. There was no streaks of light creeping through the curtains and his surroundings were dark so Evan knew he wasn't about to get woken up by his alarm just yet.

He could feel (Y/n)'s breathing change when he grinded into her again and when she slowly turned onto her back, Evan took full advantage. His leg looped over hers and shimmied between her thighs to part them and he wormed his way over until his upper half was laid on her chest and his face was buried in the crook of her neck.

It felt heavenly to have (Y/n)'s hand lazily reach up to card through his curls and scratch his scalp. He knew she wouldn't stay on her back for very long, she was never comfy laid like that and with the amount of time (Y/n) spent being pregnant, she didn't like laying on her back with the baby pressed down on her.

His hand moved up to cradle the back of her neck when she turned onto her side to face him. She let his knee press up between her legs and she looped her thigh over his own like they were playing a game of jenga with their limbs.

But just as Evan groaned and ran his hand down from her neck to her bra, his eyes shot open and his whole body jerked when he felt an arm curl around his neck from behind him.

"Fuck!"

"Babe…?" (Y/n) kissed Evan's chest and moved her hand to rub up and down his bare chest, wondering why he suddenly moved like he had been possessed. She could feel herself about to fall back asleep until she felt her husband moving around again.

"Jesus, it's Angel, she's in here with us."

When had she snuck in bed with them?

Evan usually knew when either Angel or Ella tried to sneak in the bed, he could hear Ella clamber onto the bed and huff. She tried to be stealth and quiet but she fidgeted a lot and he knew when she laid on his chest and fell asleep on him. Angel was a lot quicker and quieter and she usually stayed on the edge of the bed and slept where there was a gap so they didn't know.

This time he didn't feel her clamber into bed. She could have been there for a few hours for all Evan knew.

Evan was slow and careful as he sluggishly twisted round and laid on his back so he could look down at his eldest girl. She had been glued to Evan all day since the incident at the store, Evan couldn't even get a shower without Angel hanging by the door waiting for him to pick her up afterwards and cuddle with her. He had stayed with her while she fell asleep and now she was back in their bed for comfort and love.

"Alright girlie, I'm here, I've got you." It didn't matter that she couldn't hear him, she could sense him and that was all Evan cared about.

He flopped like a fish onto his right side and reeled his arm around her so he could tug her into his chest. His lips smothered the top of her head and he nuzzled Angel into him, feeling her arm curve around his torso and her nose brush against his sternum.

He shuffled back a little until he finally felt (Y/n)'s stomach pushing into his back just above his hips and her arm fell over his waist. She knew he wanted touch to be able to go back to sleep again and (Y/n) wedged her leg between his thighs for added comfort.

When Angel fidgeted in his arms, Evan gave her a bit of room to get comfy. She curled both her arms around his bicep and pressed her lips into his arm, clinging to him for dear life.

Even as his mind was starting to switch off, Evan worked on automatic. He curled his middle and fourth finger into his palm, leaving his pinkie, index and thumb sticking up and he pressed that hand against Angel's back. Letting her feel the sign he was gently patting into her skin.

I love you.

[quizzicalwriter]

Can u Dallas winston x reader where the reader catches dally flirting with a girl so she ignores him getting mad and he says he loves her makes up and ifyw make it a smut x

Jealousy

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas and his tendency to run away from situations when they get serious leads to hurt feelings, and some pleasure.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. This is filthy. Angst, just a smidge. Kissing, touching, fingering & titty attention. (both reader receiving.)

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 4.2k

Being carted off to a party with Dallas was nothing new in your relationship, or ‘situationship’ - you weren’t sure which fit the situation better if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been seeing Dallas, exclusively, for around five months. It was enough time for you to get relatively close to the guys, most of whom seemed to pity you whenever parties came around.

You’d tried convincing yourself that Dallas’s behavior didn’t bother you, but it did. Anyone with eyes could see the way you’d glare at him whenever he entertained another woman, how he’d smile down at them with his hand loose on their waist. Occasionally one of the guys would come over to distract you, usually Ponyboy or Johnny, both of them knowing Dallas well enough to know his behavior wouldn’t shift just because you were present.

Eventually, you’d get tired, slam a few drinks back courtesy of Buck or whoever hosted the party you found yourself at, and then either leave or find someone to dance with yourself. It was toxic, you knew that, everyone knew that. But the nights when Dallas would hold you, whispering words into your skin as he fucked himself into you, it somehow made it all bearable. In truth, if you were able to come even near the realm of ecstasy Dallas could have you in you’d likely have moved on.

But beyond the pleasure, there were moments that you knew he didn’t share with others. How he’d come to you after a rumble, knuckles bloodied with a busted lip, allowing you to patch him up in silence. You’d check him over, gently cup his jaw in your hands, and look at him, the two of you exchanging silent words until you pressed a kiss to his forehead. Those nights would usually culminate in him resting against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around you as he fell asleep to the steady thump of your heartbeat, finding that his own synced up to yours perfectly.

Just like any other weekend where neither of you had anything to do, you found yourself clamoring into Buck’s T-Bird that Dallas so eagerly stole whenever he had the chance, not that Buck minded it, you never saw the man drive it himself. The way the smoke from his cigarette curled with his smile as he greeted you left you breathless, nearly forgetting to buckle yourself in as he took off toward the direction of a nearby party. As always, whenever you drove with Dallas, one of his hands rested calmly against the steering wheel while the other grasped at your upper thighs, fingers brushing against your clothed cunt whenever he felt the pull to do so - which was often.

After nearly fifteen minutes of driving he pulled up to a house you didn’t recognize, one flooded with various greasers. Despite being parked on the side of the road the heavy scent of cigarettes and cheap liquor flooded your senses, causing you to involuntarily wince as Dallas led you up the lawn, greeting a few people who seemed thrilled to see him. His fingers tucked into the back of your waistband, ghosting over your ass as you both climbed the steps into the house.

If the outside seemed chaotic, the inside of the house was the seventh layer of hell. Not that you hadn’t been to chaotic parties, you were with Dallas for Christ’s sake, but this was a whole different level. The floor felt sticky in various spots, couples all but fucking against nearby walls and corners, the air foggy with a mixture of cigarette and marijuana smoke. Yet somehow, amidst all of the chaos, Two-Bit spotted the both of you, quickly pulling Dallas into a drunken hug before leading you both toward the remainder of the guys.

They all liked you and had been kind enough to you during your relationship with Dallas, some of them feeling a fair bit of pity for you regarding Dallas’s behavior. It was something you noticed but preferred not to mention, you didn’t want to be the focus of their pity or some girl Dallas carted around. Luckily for you, both Ponyboy and Johnny seemed to like you the most, the two chatted you up as soon as you made yourself visible, both speaking about something they’d come across earlier in the day.

You made yourself comfortable, which was easy in their presence, moving to sit on the couch beside them as you chatted back with them. Time always seemed to pass quickly whenever you were around all of them, they felt like a second family to you, something you appreciated more than you could say. As you crossed your legs under yourself, Ponyboy said something funny, making you tilt your head back as you laughed, you then quickly looked for Dallas, knowing he would’ve found it funny as well.

Only he wasn’t there.

The density of the crowd made it impossible to seek him out, you turned to the side, looking between the rest of the guys in hopes that he was possibly speaking to one of them. But he wasn’t. Johnny quickly picked up your behavior, patting your shoulder as he began speaking about something else, hoping to take your mind off of it. But your mind didn’t register anything he said, your heart sinking in your chest the longer Dallas was out of your line of sight.

“I’m sorry, Johnny. I’ll be right back.” You murmured, gently smoothing your hand over his shoulder as you moved to stand. You hadn’t noticed that Ponyboy followed behind you, his eyes having caught on Dallas far sooner than yours had - and what he saw he knew would piss you off. So he did what he thought was best, he quickly moved in front of you, trying his best to guide you back to the couch. You lifted yourself onto your toes, having been through this charade with Ponyboy before. You looked toward the kitchen, figuring if anything Dallas could’ve gone to fetch himself a drink, it was just your luck that you could see over Ponyboy’s shoulder when you stood on your toes.

There he was, just beyond Ponyboy’s shoulder as the boy tried desperately to block your vision, an apologetic look written across his face. He seemed to sense it, you noticing Dallas, his smile quickly shifting into a frown as he backed away. There was nothing he could say, him or Johnny. What could they say to you at the sight of Dallas kissing another woman?

You weren’t sure what bothered you more, her hands on his chest or his fingers tangled in her hair. It reminded you of how you two were, how his hands often threaded their way through your hair whenever he couldn’t get enough of how you tasted. Was that what was happening with her? Was she just as addictive as you? Could he not get enough of her?

The thought made you sick, propelling you forward until you were ripping the random woman away by the back of her jacket, ignoring the plethora of curses directed your way as her side made contact with the lip of the nearby counter. Dallas seemed confused, angry even, until his eyes landed on you.

“Fuck.”

That was all he managed, and for some reason it made you laugh. Maybe it was the absurdity of it all, being driven to a party by Dallas only to witness him kissing a girl with such intensity that her lipstick was smeared around her lips - and consequently his. You backed away from him then, shoving your way through the dense crowd as you made your way outside. The shouts from the guys didn’t go unnoticed, but even they knew there was no stopping you.

The night air felt cool, near stark in contrast to the heat that burned against your cheeks and chest. Embarrassment, shame, and a twinge of jealousy. Jealousy at the fact that you weren’t enough, you never had been. If you could patch him up, hold him against your chest, reassure him whenever his mind became too much all for it to still not be enough for him, what else could you do?

You felt the tears against your cheek before your mind had even registered that you’d been crying, ragged sobs tearing their way from your chest. The parking lot was a mess, as it always was whenever greasers made their way to a party. You bumped into several cars, hands beside yourself to help you maneuver through them all through the tears.

It wasn’t too long of a walk home, you could make it, no problem. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself of as you wiped at your face yet again, thoroughly pissed off at yourself at the state of your makeup being smeared across your eyes. You’d almost made it to the street before you felt a hand wrap around your upper arm, causing you to jerk to a stop.

“Doll, please-“ Dallas started, voice strained as he looked down at you. You were having none of it, you were done. This was not going to be another night where he gave you a half-assed apology and you shoved down the emotions you desperately didn’t want to show.

“No, fuck you. Seriously-“ You groaned out, shoving him away harshly by his chest, causing his back to hit the metal of a nearby car. “Fuck you for making me think I’m anything more than a quick fuck.”

You could feel tears burning in your eyes, skewing your vision of Dallas as he stood with parted lips, cigarette burning down to the filter as the ash fell to the gravel below him. You wiped at your eyes, silently cursing at yourself to stop crying as you turned away from him, only to feel a warm hand against your shoulder.

“Doll, I-“ He started, his words quickly cut off as you shoved his hand from your body, anger, and disgust written across your face even as your cheeks were wet with tears.

“No, Dallas. You don’t get to apologize for this, I’m hurt. Okay? I’m hurt.” You replied, voice cracking as you stared up at him. “You don’t get to say something sweet and have this all disappear.”

You could feel anger burning in your chest, the taste creeping up the back of your throat, reminding you of when you’d been sick as a child. It burned as if it were bile, forcing every ill thought you’d stuffed down to creep to the surface.

“Do those women even care about you beyond what you can do for them in bed?” You started, moving toward him as you hastily shoved your hair from your face. “Do they, Dal? Is that what you want? Someone not attached? Someone who wouldn’t care if you disappeared?”

His jaw tensed, eyes flickering down to the road beside you two as he tossed his cigarette to the ground, snubbing it out with the heel of his shoe before shoving his hands into his pockets, chest heaving with each shaky breath his lungs allowed him to inhale.

“Talk to me!” You screamed out, voice hoarse from your near-constant sobbing. “Tell me what you want, Dallas. Do you want them? Or do you want me?”

The whole situation felt humiliating, as though you were begging him to love you, to see you as something other than a woman he could fall back on. You needed to be more than that, you weren’t sure your heart or mind could handle seeing him in the arms of another woman. No matter how the conversation ended, you needed closure and you needed for your heart to go a week without shattering into splinters within your chest.

“I don’t-“ He started, clearing his throat as he looked away. There was an emotion written across his face, one you’d only seen on nights when he’d crawled into your bed, silently crying into your chest - something neither of you had ever spoken about. “I’m scared, alright?”

You could tell he was putting on a facade, his shoulders rolling back as he spoke as if he were trying to shield himself from the emotions brewing within his chest. It was odd, seeing him be vulnerable, it was almost as though his body rejected it, his fight or flight kicking in and demanding for him to stonewall you instead of be truthful.

“Fuck, I- I don’t know how to do this, alright?” He looked to you then, brows screwed together with a frown evident on his face. “I want you, doll. But how can I know you’ll stay?”

You moved toward him then, wanting to encourage the vulnerability he was showing you. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing against his cheekbone as you turned his head to face you, determined to have his eyes locked with yours as you spoke.

“Tell me you want me and I’ll stay.” You whispered. “I can’t stand aside and watch you flirt with every woman nearby, alright? If you want me you can have me, but I can’t be with you if you’re going to do this.”

He leaned down then, arms languidly wrapping around your middle as he pulled you flush against him, breathing in the scent of you to help steady his thoughts. You could feel his fingers tighten against the back of your shirt, almost as though he were terrified you’d disappear in his hands.

“I want you.” He stated, tone wavering slightly as he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck, back leaned against the siding of some random car. You sunk into his arms then, resting your cheek against his chest as you wrapped your arms around him as well, letting your eyes shut as you savored the moment of being held by him so delicately.

You wanted to be sure, wanted his words to mean something beyond an empty promise. So you looked up to him, taking a moment to wipe your eyes before placing your hands against his jaw, causing his eyes to lock with yours once more.

“Promise me.” You urged, fingers subtly pressing into his skin. “Promise me I’m the only one. You promise me that and I won’t leave you, I’ll be here. I’ll be in your arms, I’ll hold you. I’ll love you.”

He leaned into your touch, exhaling a breath as his lips quirked up into a smile. “You’re the only one, doll. I only want you.” He brought his hand up then, twisting his pinkie around yours, causing you to laugh through a sniffle. “Promise.”

You leaned up then, capturing his lips in a kiss that tasted of tears and cheap liquor, but you didn’t mind it. Your mind was focused on the feeling of his hands settling on your hips, the way he’d promised you something so important in such an innocent manner. It was him, him in every way you’d seen him behind closed doors. You trusted him, his words, his actions.

Dallas was many things, careless, reckless, mean - all things he’d learned during his childhood just so he could survive. You’d heard enough horror stories from him to last you a lifetime, and yet whenever he looked down at you or whenever he laid in your arms you couldn’t help but feel your heart break for the child who’d just wanted someone to do what he’d just done for you - a simple pinkie promise that they weren’t lying, that they were truthful and that they cared for him.

The thought made you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, hands grasping at the front of his shirt tight enough to hurt your palms. You knew him well enough to know that it’d take a while for him to fully let you in, but in the meantime, he’d let you try - and that was enough. All you’d ever wanted was a chance.

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips, the words followed by a shallow gasp of air as your lungs filled themselves with much-needed oxygen. “I love you.”

He didn’t say it back, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before intertwining his fingers with your own. As he turned back to the house you stifled a groan, the noise catching his attention.

“We’re not going back inside, we’re going back to mine.” He replied through a soft laugh, dangling the car keys in front of your face as you both wove your way through the driveway to Buck’s car.

You’d both have to explain to the guys what’d happened when you left the party, but they could wait. As you climbed into the passenger side Dallas made his way over to the driver's side, plopping himself down before starting the ignition, the car humming to life on the quiet road.

The drive was quiet, your hand finding its way back to his, fingers intertwining once more as he pulled down a nearby street filled with vacant homes. One of those housing projects where they’d quit building right at the end, the eeriness of empty houses not being lost on you. Whenever the clouds cleared overhead the moon would cast a pale hue over the buildings, causing them to look more beautiful than anything, ivy growing along the broken windows and weeds nearly five feet tall somehow growing in between the porch boards.

After a few moments of calm silence, Dallas finally spoke, his words quiet enough that you might’ve missed them if you hadn’t been paying attention.

“I’m sorry.” He stated, turning his head to look at you. “I‘ve never been good at this- emotions, I mean. But I want to, I want to for you.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt, crossing over the center console to settle yourself on his lap, arms draped over his shoulders as you smiled down at him. “I know.” You replied, voice tender as you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

When his hands moved to your hips you quickly became aware of just how much you didn’t want to speak, as much as his voice soothed you - you didn’t want to spend the next hour talking over something that had already been solved. A different part of your body called out to him, one that needed to be reassured physically, reassured in a way only he could accomplish.

As if he were able to read your thoughts, his hands slid up your sides, brushing your shirt up with it. Each inch of your skin that was left exposed to the night air quickly became alight with goosebumps, his touch only causing the sensitivity to heighten. His hands moved behind you, unclasping your bra in one swift movement, letting the fabric fall between you before he leaned down to capture your breast in his warm mouth.

Your hands found their way to his hair, a soft sigh falling from your lips as you grasped onto the dark brunette strands, hips subtly rocking against his lap as his tongue swirled around your nipple. As he sucked and kissed along your flesh his free hand moved to cup your other breast, gently kneading it in his grasp as his hips bucked up against you.

He was so, so talented with his tongue. It often left you baffled, unable to take in a breath without it sounding akin to a whine - just as he currently had you. Your hand moved from his hair then, smoothing down his chest to his lap. Unzipping his jeans had all but become muscle memory, something you could do without looking. As you pressed kisses along his forehead and temple you unzipped his jeans, dipping your hand into his boxers as you began pumping him.

A silent curse fell past his lips, his hips bucking up into your palm as his grasp on your hip tightened, the other squeezing harder at your breast, fingers gently tweaking your nipple as he focused his attention on the other. You could feel him growing desperate, precum dribbling from his tip as he groaned against your soft flesh.

Your hand tightened around his cock as he teasingly bit at your breast, pulling a grunted-out laugh from his chest as his hands then moved to your jeans, unbuttoning them before pushing his hand inside of your underwear, cupping your sex as he trailed kisses between your breasts.

His fingers trailed lazily over the wetness of your cunt, barely touching your clit enough to grant you any true satisfaction as he continued kissing along your breasts. You knew he could feel your hips grinding down against his fingers, but it didn’t seem to deter him any, he continued his teasing, slowly leaving love bites along your chest as he gently pushed his middle and ring finger into your waiting cunt.

He groaned as you clenched around his fingers, hardly giving him a second before bouncing yourself on his fingers. You’d been desperate before, but everything paled in comparison to the current fire racing through your veins. He kissed up your neck, nipping at your pulse point as he pushed his palm up against your clit, letting you grind down against his hand as you continued to pump him.

Before long you couldn’t stand it, his fingers perfect, just not enough - you needed more, needed him. You leaned back, hastily pushing down your jeans to which he quickly helped, tossing the bundled-up denim into the backseat of Buck’s car along with your soaked underwear.

It was far from the first time you two had fucked in a car, your knees on either side of his thighs feeling like home for you, his tip teasingly pushing along your slick folds making you grasp onto his shoulders, fingers pressing into his skin as you lowered yourself down onto him.

The stretch caused you both to moan, his head falling back against the headrest of his seat as you bounced down onto him, the sound of your moans accompanied by skin meeting skin filling the night air. You could feel your arousal coating your inner thighs, practically dripping down his cock onto his thighs as you rutted against him.

“F-uck.” He grunted out, lips parted as his hands grasped at your hips, feet planted against the floorboard of the car as he thrusted up into you. “So fuckin’ good, doll. Fuck-“

As you rode him his right hand moved between your legs, thumb circling your clit, your skin soaked with your arousal. He watched as you bounced on his cock, utterly entrapped by the sight of his cock disappearing within you, a white sheen of your cum coating his cock, dripping down the base and onto his thighs.

The feeling of his thumb circling your clit coupled with his cock hitting deep within you left you whining, tears of pleasure flooding your eyes as you let your head fall back, quickly feeling his other hand threading his fingers through your hair, harshly grasping at the base of the threads as he began roughly fucking himself up into you.

You practically went limp, moans forced from your chest with each brutal thrust of his hips, arms dangling at your sides as you let him use you. You could feel your orgasm building at a fever pitch in your lower stomach, causing your moans to pitch up an octave as he fucked you.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock, doll?” He grunted out, voice strained and hoarse as he let go of your hair, hand then moving to your jaw as he pulled you down for a needy kiss. He bit at your bottom lip, tongue slipping into your mouth as he rolled his hips up into you, to which you tried your best to match his tempo.

All you could do was nod, cumming with a broken cry of his name as his thumb steadily worked at your clit. The pleasure quickly turned into overstimulation, causing you to whine into the kiss as your hips stuttered in their movement, cunt squeezing around his cock. He didn’t pull away from the kiss, instead grunting into it as he continued rutting up into you, flooding your cunt full of his cum.

He slowed his movements as his cock twitched inside of you, hands still guiding your hips against him, slow and steady rolls of your hips milking him dry. He pulled away from the kiss, lips a rosy hue as he looked up at you, eyes blown with desire. You felt his breath against your face, his hands soon moving up to cup your jaw as he leaned up to press a shaky kiss to your lips.

“I love you.” He murmured, thumb brushing against the soft skin of your cheek. “I love you.”

You smiled into the kiss, a quiet laugh passing your lips as you pressed a plethora of kisses to his lips, cheek, and jaw. The action pulled a laugh from him, his eyes fluttering shut as he brushed his fingers along your spine.

“I love you too, Dal.” You responded, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you both caught your breath.

You both were sweaty, sticky, and thoroughly coated in cum along your thighs. But you wouldn’t have had it any other way, besides, it was completely like Dallas to admit his feelings for you while still buried in your cunt.

“Think we stained the seats.” Dallas grumbled out through a laugh, the comment causing you to laugh as well, neither of you making a move to move away from each other. “Fuck it.”

A/N: So sorry for the length of this, or am I? I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, went through a lot of revisions, but I’m happy with the end product. You can catch all of my work over on my ao3 under the username “Unscriptural.” Thank you guys again for reading or skimming through, whatever ‘ya did I’m thankful for the interaction!

[lostsyren]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kildare killer

{a/n: happy halloween! this was purely self indulgent but i hope you like it anyways! thanks for helping me with the suggestions of what rafe and sofia would dress up as! it helped a lot! this isn’t canon rafe, sofia and barry (since the writers decided to pretend barry doesn’t exist this season) but rather them from the world of my fic ‘ephemeral’ on ao3. if you haven’t read that, there will be a couple references you won’t get but it’s not important! anywhooo i hope u enjoy!}

{summary: rafe and sofia decide to spend halloween at barry’s trailer, where spookiness ensues}

⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾

It was Halloween in the Outer Banks and Sofia wanted to dress up, much to Rafe’s dismay. He’d let her choose the costume (after he’d suggested her be a playboy bunny and him be Hugh Hefner to which she slapped him across the arm), so she finally settled on Romeo and Juliet from the 1996 movie.

Descending from the swirling staircase at Tannyhill, Sofia hitched her flowing white dress up, her straightened hair falling just past her décolleté, feathery angel wings adorning her shoulder blades and her face shimmering with silvery glitter.

Rafe had put to use the suit of armour gathering dust in the hall, wearing the arm plates and chain mail along with his jeans and regular sneakers. He waited by the door for Sofia to get ready, impatiently tapping his foot feeling stupid in the costume. It was Halloween. That meant parties, drinking, getting wasted– not looking like a lanky tin man.

They were meant to be heading to Topper’s for his (in his own words) legendary Halloween rager. But Rafe wanted to stop by Barry’s first (he’d promised Kelce some weed). Although with the way Sofia was taking her time, maybe he’d have to skip the trip.

“Sof! How long you gonna be?” He called, swivelling around, his words cut short when he saw her float down the mahogany steps like a literal angel.

“Sorry! Had a bit of trouble getting the wings on.” She apologised, nearing him with a resplendent smile. Rafe just about managed to stop his jaw dropping.

“Wow…you look…beautiful.”

Sofia’s face lit up with joy, casting her in an even more heavenly glow.

“You don’t look too bad yourself Romeo.” She teased, nudging him gently. “It’s still crazy to me you just had a suit of armour just lying around– that’s like the kookiest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“Oh shut up and come on, we’re already late.” Rafe wanted to throw an arm around her but the angel wings were in the way, so he opted to just slide a hand around her waist.

“You don’t mind if we make a stop at Barry’s do you?” He asked as they got into the car.

“Oh please, I don’t even want to go to Topper’s party, I just wanted a reason to dress up. And besides, I haven’t seen Barry in ages, I miss him.”

Rafe grumbled in the drivers seat, the annoyance at Sofia and Barry’s little friendship returning.

She just laughed, finding it funny to rile him up. “Rafe come on, you’re friends so why can I be his friend too?”

“You’re my friend– not his.”

“Oh so we’re friends now?”

“You’re not acting very angelic you know?”

“And you’re not acting very chivalrous.”

The continued to bicker playfully as they drove down to Barry’s trailer, Rafe’s eyes continually straying from the road just so he could see Sofia gleam in the half-darkness in the car, looking like a seraphic vision of beauty. On second thoughts, he didn’t mind the costume after all.

⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾

Sofia stepped out the car, the long grass ticking her feet, the sandals she was wearing not suitable for the switchgrass and weeds.

It was a strange feeling being back in the same place she was nearly kidnapped in, but oddly nostalgic too. There was something intoxicating about the warm light flooding out of Barry’s trailer, the smell of the sweet vernal grass faint in the air and the steady hum of the breeze and chirp of the crickets that evoked a stirring in her heart.

But this time there was the added smell of smoke, crackle of embers, and a heady glow emanating from behind Barry’s trailer that wasn’t there before.

Rafe and Sofia followed the floating ashes, to see Barry lounging in a lawn chair. He was nursing a fire that rose from an old steel drum, the ribbons from the joint he was smoking mixing with the thick plumes from the flames.

“Country club and Dora!” He yelled as a greeting, getting up out of the chair. Sofia rolled her eyes playfully at his nickname for her, poking fun at her inquisitive nature. Barry’s face grew in his signature smirk, golden tooth flashing in the firelight.

“Hey Barry,” Sofia smiled, as he grabbed her hand and held it up in the air, swirling her around in circle.

“Dora all dolled up huh?” She laughed as he wolf whistled, Rafe once again bristling in annoyance beside them.

“Ok ok that’s enough,” he tugged at Sofia’s wrist possessively.

“Romeo and Juliet huh? Didn’t know you were into Shakespeare Rafe?” Barry mused, as he bumped fists with him.

“It was Sofia’s idea.”

“I figured– so what can I do for y’all today? On this ol’ hallows eve? Got someone after you again?”

Rafe shifted his weight on to the other foot, gaze furtive and snappy, “no just, you know…”

Sofia eyed the two of them as they exchanged a silent passing of glances, clearly not saying whatever it is they wanted to say because of her presence.

She rolled her eyes, staring a her boyfriend with a disparaging expression. “Rafe I swear to god, if you’ve come here to for drugs I’m not going to that party.”

He groaned exasperatedly, annoyed she caught on as if he wasn’t being entirely unsubtle in front of her just now. “Fuck, look Kelce just wanted some weed ok.”

“No Rafe, tell him to get it himself. You’re not gonna act like some seedy dealer– no offence Barry.”

“None taken,” he held his hands up, smirking slightly as he watched the two of them argue, acting like it was prime reality TV.

Sofia crossed her arms, mouth thinning, “fine, if you do, I’m not going with you then,” she said, her ultimatum making Rafe cock his head to the side.

“Oh yeah? Where are you gonna go instead huh?”

“I’ll stay here with Barry. You don’t mind do you?” She asked, glancing over at him.

“Of course not– mi casa es tu casa.”

“What the fuck Barry help me out here.”

“Don’t look at me dawg– I’m just Switzerland.”

“Fine, we’ll both stay here, you happy now Sofia?”

“Very.” She huffed. Barry just continue to chuckle softly to himself, as Rafe dragged out two extra seats for them, and despite being angry, he still unfolded and set out the lawn chair for her.

The three of them sat in the cold October air, grateful for the crackling fire before them.

“You cold?” Rafe asked her, his suit of armour flickering like burning gold in the aureate light.

Sofia couldn’t stay mad at him for long, “I’m ok.”

“Well this feels very juvenile, campfire on Halloween? We just need some marshmallows.” Barry snickered.

“Or some beer.” Rafe grumbled.

“Sofia why don’t you go inside and get the six pack, then you can grab whatever you wanna drink from the fridge alright?” Barry suggested, knowing she didn’t like the taste of beer.

“Yeah ok.” So she got up, walking around to the trailer door, unable to make out what Rafe and Barry where whispering about as soon as she left– probably something illegal and unsavoury, she thought with a bitter scoff.

She returned a couple minutes later, handing over the pack to Barry, settling down in her seat between them, grateful for the circle of warmth. Perhaps wearing a skimpy dress in the middle of autumn wasn’t the best idea.

“So what were you both conspiring about?” She asked, opening her can with a soft hiss.

“Barry was just talking about the story of the Kildare Killer.” Rafe said with a nonchalant sip of his beer, eyes gleaming in the firelight.

“The what?”

Barry’s eyes shot up dramatically, “you don’t know about the Kildare Killer?”

“No…should I? I don’t like the sound of it.” Sofia also didn’t like the way Barry and Rafe had become solemn, their visage cast in fire and darkness, shadows stretching and straining across the planes and slopes of their faces.

“I keep forgetting you’re not from around here Dora…why don’t I let Rafe here begin the story– he loves true crime.” Barry goaded, to which Rafe responded with a dismissive middle finger.

“Rafe tell me,” She said, curiousity piqued, ignoring Barry’s teasing.

Rafe nodded slowly, licking his beer stained lips, “ok then, the story starts back in 1985–there was a drought that lasted all summer– the grass was all dead, the tanks all dried up; it was the hottest summer in North Carolina history. Well, small island like this, people left their windows wide open as they slept, tryna let in the cool night breeze.” Rafe explained Sofia nodding eagerly.

“Well one night, super dry, kinda like this one– the police were called. The cop cars pull up to the house– you can still visit it today actually, it’s not too far from here– and they hear screaming, the blood curdling type. The officers approach, scared shitless. it’s a small town, nothing bad ever happens, but in that moment, hearing that scream, they thought the worst.”

Barry, who’d been quietly listen to Rafe cleared his throat, “well the cops finally entered the house.”

Sofia turned to face him, listening intently.

“They notice nothin’ outta the ordinary, but then hear someone weepin’…they follow the cries down to the bedroom and see two girls, still dressed in their nightgowns being clutched by their mother, who’s cryin’ over them.”

Barry’s voice was low and raspy, Sofia having to lean in close so she could hear.

“It takes a while for the cops to notice, the room still dark, but they quickly realise the girls aren’t just sleepin’– they’re dead, their nightgowns covered in blood.”

Sofia’s eyes were like saucers completely entranced by the story.

“Turns out a patient from the metal asylum on the mainland escaped on the ferry to Kildare. He killed six girls that night, climbin’ in through their bedroom window and slitting their pretty throats. He got the death penalty, fryin’ in that chair on Halloween night. The legend round these parts goes that sometimes on all hallows eve, the Kildare Killer’s spirit comes back to haunt the islanders…he scours the streets, lookin’ for pretty girls in white dresses to make his seventh victim, waitin’ to come up behind and slit their throat.”

Barry smiled evilly, taking a swig of beer, eyeing Sofia who’s thus far been wholly transfixed on the story.

The goosebumps that splayed across Sofia’s skin faded away, rolling her eyes in disbelief, “you’re such a liar, stop trying to freak me out– that did not happen–“

She suddenly felt two large hands grip her sides, shaking her erratically, a bellowing yell “boo!” coming from behind her. Her nerves were already shot through from the boys’ stupid story, so a screeching scream instinctively spilled out her mouth as her body shuddered in terror. She nearly toppled out of her chair from the jump scare.

“Rafe!” She yelled, “that’s not funny!”

But Barry and Rafe clearly thought otherwise, erupting into a fit of laughter as Sofia was left reeling in the lawn chair, her heart beat wavering uncontrollably.

“Shittt Dora, you shoulda’ seen your face,” Barry grinned, laughing so hard he began tearing up.

Rafe’s arms wrapped around her bringing her into him, “sorry baby, we couldn’t help it.” He apologised with an impish grin, as Sofia tried to pry his hands off of her.

“Pinche pendejos,” she cursed, finally letting a small smile creep up on her.

Rafe shook her gently, his forearm hooked around her neck and face pressed against her own, with a honeyed laugh. Sofia’s hands trailed up to meet his, whilst Barry continued to chuckle, looking relieved that Sofia found it funny.

The three of them continued to laugh and talk late into the night, their faces illuminated by the ever burning fire as grey ropes of smoke swirled into the star peppered sky.

Eventually it got late enough that Sofia began to yawn, her eyelids growing heavy.

“You knockin’ out there Sofia?” Barry said, rolling up another joint with his soot stained fingers.

Rafe glanced over at his girl, curled up in the lawn chair, droopy face resting on her hand.

“Sof? You good?” He asked.

She blinked open her eyes, giving Rafe a dopey smile, “all good.”

“Yall can sleep over if you want, if you’re too drunk to drive.” Barry offered, lighting up his rolled paper with the flames from the fire.

“You sure Barry?” Sofia asked, not wanting to impose.

“Of course Dora, spare bedroom’s still yours.”

So that’s what they did. Rafe stripped out of his chain mail and armour, leaving it in the trunk of the car, in bed with just his T-shirt and jeans whilst Sofia slipped out of her angel wings, ready to just collapse right there with him.

Barry disappeared into his room a while ago, probably knocked out too– it was late after all, nearing midnight and they were all drunk and exhausted.

Sofia wrapped her sweater around herself, that she got from the car, pattering into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. The trailer was dark, only a solitary lamp left on, drenching the walls in a dull, orange glow. Sofia manoeuvred through the gloom and filled up a cup with water, eyes glossing over the window above the sink.

She was about to turn around and retreat back into the bedroom when she saw something move outside the kitchen window, a blur of darkness, like a shadow puppet flashing across the glass. Sofia froze, eyes glued on the screen, waiting to confirm what she saw. But the night was now still, everything unmoving. Sofia levelled her breathing, about to scurry back into the room to tell Rafe– he could go out and check– when a scraping sound rattled through the trailer as if someone was running their nails across the metal exterior.

“I swear to god guys stop messing around,” she called out, trying to sound intimidating. But if Rafe and Barry were in their rooms…who was outside?

The sound of the scratching began to get progressively louder, sending chills slithering down Sofia’s spine. She thought of that stupid story they told her earlier. It was Halloween night and she was still in a white dress…her heart froze in her chest as she attempted to level her breaths. At least the window was shut.

“Rafe,” she called out, his name coming out in a shaky warble. But he didn’t reply. Sofia set down her glass of water, about to dash back into the bedroom, when suddenly a hand slammed against the window, ghost-white palm splayed across the the grimy glass, the sound knocking the air out if her lungs. Sofia gasped as if a frigid wave of water had submerged her insides, her terror only increasing tenfold when the door to the trailer slammed open, too quick for her to turn to face the intruder. Before she knew it, their arms wrapped around her waist, a shrill scream of horror hurtling out of her oesophagus.

“Happy Halloween!” Her assailant whispered in her ear, Sofia turning around to see Rafe’s imposing figure envelope her completely.

“You’re such a jerk!” She cried out, untangling herself out of his caging grip. Barry followed his lead, entering the trailer a moment after.

“Shit Dora, you real jumpy aren’t you?”

“Yeah because of you two idiots,” she grumbled as Rafe draped an arm over her frame, Barry knocking a playful fist on her shoulder.

“Oh come on, you know you love us.” Rafe smiled, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead, as Barry continued to wheeze with laughter.

Sofia pushed passed the two of them, heading into the bedroom, “that’s it, next Halloween I’m saying at home.”

⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾

[fantom-as]

He's Psychotic | Feyd-Rautha

fandom: Dune: Part Two (2024)

pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x irulan corrino

description: He’s psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. And she was about to marry him.

word count: 4k

warnings!: smut, wedding night, loss of virginity, rough sex, knifeplay 🔪, bloodplay🩸, where's my wife?, who did this to you?, concubines, blood and injury, praise kink, marriage.

He was psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. An animal, a beast, a sort of soulless creature no living woman could bear to stand.

And Irulan was about to marry him.

This wasn’t the plan, of course. She was supposed to marry Paul Atreides, Duke of Arrakis, but fate had different plans. Her fate took an unexpected turn the moment Paul’s lifeless body fell to the floor, with his enemy’s blade deep in his guts. In that moment, Feyd-Rotha’s black eyes bore into her and the smile of his was just as black.

Her father said, “You’ve won. What would you like in return for this victory?”

She shuddered, unable to take her eyes off the man before her as he walked back to Paul’s body, ripped out the blade from it and pointed the sharp tip towards her, the blood still dripping from it—drip, drip, drip.

“Had the Duke won, he would’ve gotten the princess. Now, as the victor, I have the right to her. I want your daughter.”

Her father didn’t oppose. Perhaps he wanted to but had nothing else to offer. Alas, Irulan was the thing he could give, in his mind, he had already given her up to Paul Atreides.

And so, three days later, she was dressed in traditional bridal garments: the ivory dress of the finest silk, a modest scoop neckline adorned with beading, with long fitted sleeves cascading down her arms with sheer panels, the skirt flowing out from the waist in a graceful line. To finish off, she wore a dramatic veil that framed her entire form and was held up by an ornate headpiece.

She was to be sacrificed to a demon.

Irulan walked down the isle, surrounded by a flood of the same harkonnean faces, all of them bald and pale and muscular, neither of them familiar, only one, at the very end, waiting for her, watching her every step, even the slightest movement of flesh underneath her garments – Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her were like a hawk’s. She shuddered.

The road to her future husband in this hall at Giedi Prime. She walked, and walked, alone and exposed, and it seemed that the distance between him and her remained the same. But no, she was getting closer, because now she could see him better. His robes were of tight shiny leather with silver lining, they clung to his body like a glove. He stood tall and regal, a neutral expression on his face. Except for his eyes, of course. He held his hands in front of himself as if he was imprisoning his own body in one spot, as if he was trying to stop himself from eating away at the distance between them himself, as if he had to keep his hands from reaching out for her.

Irulan finally stood in front of him and, while the Reverend Mother spoke words of matrimony she couldn’t understand (she could understand the language, undoubtedly, only in that moment she wasn’t capable of understanding the meaning behind them), she watched Feyd-Rautha in all his glory. His dark gaze demanded attention. The only comfort was the veil that covered her face from him.

Sometime in the middle of the ceremony, Irulan heard a strange hissing sound. She turned her head very slightly to see three women standing behind her soon-to-be husband. All three of them looked the same—bald heads, black eyes, blackened teeth and pure hatred, addressed to her—different only in height. It took a few moments for Irulan’s frightened mind to realize that these were Feyd-Rautha’s concubines who were hissing at her. No one else, besides Irulan, paid them any attention, so she learned to ignore the hissing too.

However, Irulan was so focused on the concubines, she didn’t understand that the Reverend Mother spoke the last words of the matrimonial ceremony until Feyd-Rautha lifted his hands and unveiled her. She flinched, caught off guard, feeling small and vulnerable before him. His face moved closer to hers very slowly, as if he didn’t want to frighten her. The initial moment of his kiss felt like a butterfly’s touch to her lips—soft, tender, barely there. When her mouth opened to him in surprise, he explored it with his tongue, and the kiss soon turned passionate, wild all-consuming. It lasted far longer than a dutiful wedding kiss should’ve lasted and it left Irulan breathless once it ended.

She stared at his lips, now red from the kiss, even more so in contrast with his paper-white skin. His breathing was just as heavy as hers, their chests heaving in tandem, but he soon regained his wits, reaching out his hand for her, which she wasn’t cautious enough not to take.

He started walking her out of the hall and down the dark empty corridors, leaving the Harkonnens and the rest of Giedi Prime behind them. He led her to a spacious minimally furnished room but she could tell every single item there must’ve cost a fortune.

Feyd-Rautha let go of her hand only when she was standing in front of a canopy bed. Then he disappeared from her sight, and she was too nervous to turn around. He’s psychotic, she had to remind herself. One wrong move and he might attack like an animal.

She felt her headpiece being lifted from her head together with the veil. She saw his pale hands put it aside carefully. She turned her head slightly only to see he had taken off his top garments, and she saw his naked chest, tattooed with thick black lines. He watched her face as she peered into his nether region, then grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him.

“Are you scared of me, princess?” he asked.

Irulan looked into his eyes, searching for madness there, or for empathy. She found neither.

Swallowing thickly, she held his gaze.

“No.”

She couldn’t let him know how frightened she truly was.

Feyd-Rautha’s and moved to the back of his bottoms and he took out a knife, ornate and beautiful, like a piece of art. Irulan’s eyes widened in fear, her body shivered violently outside of her control. Her reaction put a smile on his face. As Feyd-Rautha moved his knife to the fabric of her dress, she closed her eyes, daring herself to get through whatever pain he was about to inflict on her. Most importantly, she couldn’t show panic.

She scrunched her nose, waiting to get stabbed, waiting for the blade to pierce her skin, then dig into her flesh, she waited for him to draw her blood, make her scream—until she heard fabric ripping in half. Irulan opened her eyes, drawing in a lungful of air like a man lost in dessert, breathing in oxygen for the first time. she felt the dress fall of her body before she saw her own nakedness, blushing from shame. She noticed Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her even if she didn’t see him, she felt his hot breath on her exposed skin. Her nerves were akin to violin strings—tout and resonant—as he stood behind her like a looming threat.

As Irulan tried to calm her respiration, Feyd-Rautha’s fingers dug into her scalp, kneading at her hair and messing up the fancy braids that formed a bun, until her hair was freed, falling down her back in waves. She felt his fingers brush through her locks—once, twice—and then, to Irulan’s grave horror, he brought the knife to her neck, his other arm holding her down by her waist, pulling her bottom into his groin. She gasped at the cold sharp blade on her delicate skin there.

“Still not scared, princess?” he spoke lavishly into her ear.

This was a trick. He wanted a reaction out of her. But he wasn’t going to truly hurt her, otherwise he would’ve done so already. She wouldn’t let him trick her.

“No,” she repeated, although a slight tremor in her voice betrayed the truth.

He pulled the blade away from her, grabbing her by the throat with his other hand. His lips touched her jaw tenderly and she closed her eyes at the feeling.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

His hands guided her to get on the bed, slowly and barely pushing her as she complied. She lied on the bed on her back, feeling her hair fall around her like the sun. Feyd-Rautha’s widened eyes roamed over her body possessively, taking their time to appreciate the curve of her neck, her shoulders, her round breasts, her flat belly, until they landed on her apex. His gaze was hungry, wild, untamed, which she took as a compliment.

Still holding the knife in one hand, he unbuttoned his bottoms with the other and took them off. His cock caught Irulan’s attention immediately—long, thick, and veiny, monstrous just like its’ owner. Seeing where her gaze had landed, Feyd-Rautha smirked, kneeling on the bed as she moved away to give him space, but he grabbed her thighs, pulling her close. He spread her thighs, putting her ankles onto his shoulders, his black gaze boring into her sex. His lips parted as if he was trying to imagine how she would taste down there.

Irulan was hot, so very hot, and the way he stared at her, the way he handled her body was of no help at all.

It was the moment his fingers touched her burning center that she realized how sensitive and wet she truly was. Feyd-Rautha hissed, realizing that very same thing. He began playing with her flesh as if he was a boy with a toy, and she heart the sounds of her own sex dripping and parting for him whichever way he wished.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, making her even wetter. This was affecting him too, it appeared—his cock was so hard and aching it was slowly turning red.

But of course, he couldn’t leave his knife behind. As he brought the knife closer to her core, Irulan panicked, kicking at him and trying to get away, but his grip on her thigh was like vice, she couldn’t move.

“Shhh,” he said, caressing her thigh. “There’ll be nothing but pleasure, wife.”

Irulan was certain that his definition of pleasure differed from hers, so she kept squirming. Only slightly annoyed, Feyd-Rautha gripped his knife tightly by the blade and pushed the handle past her nether lips.

Irulan released a prolonged moan when his thumb found her clitoris and began rubbing circles while simulteneously thrusting the handle of his knife in and out of her.

“That’s it, wife,” he groaned, watching the way her face furrowed in pleasure. “Take my knife like a good girl.”

And she did. His moves grew aggressive, but even the sight of his blood as the sharp blade tore the skin of his palm where he gripped it did not deter her—she was too focused moving her hips in tandem with his thrusts, chasing her pleasure.

Only when she was at the precipice of her own release did he stop abruptly, pulling out the knife out of her and throwing it on the ground. Irulan was irrationally angry and disappointed, but that feeling soon ceased as Feyd-Rautha fondled her body, mostly her breasts and bottom, with his hands, leaving a bloody trail wherever he touched her.

Once finished, he began stroking his now-turned-blue cock, watching her soiled body as a mesmerizing painting. He then lined the head of his cock with her entrance and she tensed without meaning to. He put only the tip in, but Irulan tensed furthermore. He towered over her with his entire body, but not threateningly, it was more like a promise to keep her safe. Feyd-Rautha caressed her cheek, pushing in more, and she hissed from the pain that not even his tender movements helped soothe.

He was patient with her that night, but he wasn’t that patient, so after a few minutes of trying to slowly push into her, Feyd-Rautha thrust all of himself into her while kissing her at the same time, catching the pained scream that tore out of her with his mouth. He kept kissing her and moving inside of her until he was sure she wasn’t going to scream and that the pain eased a little. He pulled away slightly just to watch her breasts move at the rhythm his hips had set.

“Such a good wife I have,” he praised. “Taking me so well.” Irulan whimpered when the pain in her lower abdomen was slowly replaced with pleasure. “That’s it,” he said, moving his face closer to hers. “I want you to look at me as you come on my cock, princess.”

She did.

Irulan woke up. Her body ached and she felt disoriented, reaching out for the warm body that kept her close the whole night. She found the other side of the bed empty.

She washed off the blood from her thighs—her blood—and his blood from all the other places. It was foolish of her to expect Feyd-Rautha to stay until morning as a loving husband, but the abandonment still hurt.

She found a dress to put on and then sat down to brush her hair when a knock came.

“Princess Irulan, na-Baron is calling for you,” a servant said.

“Tell him I’m preoccupied with something.”

“I’m afraid this isn’t an offer, princess.”

And so, two minutes later, she was following the servant down the clinically sterile yet dark corridors, until he led her to a door, saying, “Na-Baron is already waiting for her.”

Na-Baron was actually not waiting for her at all, if his physical state was any sign of that. When Irulan got into the room, she found Feyd-Rautha in no need of any more attentions from another woman. He lied sprawled on a divan while his three concubines attended to his needs: two of them were sucking on his cock as if it were a candy while the third one kissed, but and nibbled on the skin of his chest, neck and shoulders. However, his cock, no matter what they did, remained flaccid.

Irulan reddened at the sight but more than anything she was furious. She would’ve turned on her heel and left right then, if Feyd-Rautha hadn’t already caught her with his eyes.

“There you are, wife,” he spoke to her. “After the magical night I spent with you, my concubines seem to be unable to satisfy me properly. I thought it would help the mattes at hand if you joined them. So, princess, care to join?” he motioned at the tow women sucking his cock. None of the three of them paid her any mind but she felt wrath emanating from them all the same.

Irulan didn’t move a single muscle. “I am your wife, not one of your whores, Feyd-Rautha,” she said coldly and tightly.

Feyd-Rautha merely chuckled at her defiance. She stayed in place like a tree grown into the ground, undeterred by his charming laughter.

“Of course not,” he said, still smiling. Then, in a voice that was firm and commanding, “All of you, leave.”

 The concubines obeyed immediately, pulling away from him. The one who had his cock in her mouth took it out with a loud pop. They hissed as they passed her, and Irulan waited from them to leave from out the door, not foolish enough to have her back to them. But, just as she was about to leave, she heard, “Not you, wife. They are only pets. You are not one of them.”

Irulan turned back to him, regaining her composure.

He smirked at her. She noticed his cock was beginning to harden.

He beckoned her closer, “Come.”

She took slow steps toward him as he watched her every move with unblinking eyes. Irulan came to stand in front of him, raising her chin. “What do you want from me, Feyd-Rautha?” she demanded.

His grin only widened. “I want you to satisfy your husband. You didn’t like seeing me with my concubines? Then you do the job. Let me have all of you. Let me ruin you.”

Irulan stared down at him, seemingly unaffected by his words, although her insides were burning. However, he seemed to be seeing right through her. Neither of them said another word, both staring at one another, waiting for who will star first.

Irulan couldn’t handle it any longer, not when his cock was now as hard as ever and her own arousal was practically running down her inner thighs.

She leaned down and lifted her skirt just enough so she could straddle him. She didn’t sit on top of his cock, only the outside of their nether regions was touching. As she wore no undergarments, she could feel that his flesh was hotter than hers, almost feverish.

The smile disappeared from Feyd-Rautha’s face, giving space for a deeply focused expression. She moved her hips to tease his swollen cock and he hissed from the stimulation, grabbing her hips instinctively and hoisted your skirt enough to have her bared for his eyes only.

“Don’t tease me, princess,” he groaned. That was enough for Irulan. She lifted her hips and sank down onto him, eliciting a prolonged moan from the both of them. She was still sore and he was huge, but she soon found a comfortable rhythm that brought waves of pleasure to her core. Feyd-Rautha watched her intensely with his black eyes, but when your thighs began to give out and the strain on your muscles seemed like too much, he took over, thrusting into her from below, grabbing her by the back of her neck to bring her lips to his. He kissed her like a starved man, all the while untwining the braid she had quickly put together before running off to him. When her hair was freed, he sunk his fingers into it—she remembered him giving special attention to her hair last night too. It must’ve been one of the things his concubines couldn’t give him.

Whereas Irulan’s moves were slow and sensual, Feyd-Rautha set a vicious pace, one she couldn’t catch up with, so she let him grab her arms by the wrists and pull them behind her, taking full control of her entire body. She moaned and mewled on top of him, her breathing growing labored. She was on the edge of her climax, but stopped herself from coming, watching as Feyd-Rautha’s expression grew violent as he neared his own end. And just as he was about to come, she told him, “You won’t lie with your concubines anymore. They won’t entertain you and you won’t give them special treatment. If you want release, you will come to me and me only, is that clear, Feyd-Rautha?”

His face twisted from pleasure and Irulan leaned in closer, touching his forehead with her own as he thrust into her the last few times.

“Yes, yes, anything you want, my wife…” he answered breathlessly.

Satisfied with her work yet careful not to show him, Irulan pulled away from him and his cock, standing back up and fixing her skirt. Feyd-Rautha, still heaving, reached out his head as if to touch the fabric of her dress or the ends of her hair, but she had already found her way to the door, leaving him all alone.

As she walked down the dark corridors, Irulan was lost in thoughts of the scene that just passed between them, and so she didn’t notice someone lurking for her in the shadows. Three figures then stood in her way, and even though it was dark, the three concubines of Feyd-Rautha were hard to miss. They were hissing at her, fury evident in their abnormal features as they lunged at her, baring their black teeth. Before Irulan managed to scream or shout for help, one of them forced her mouth shut with her hand, the other grabbed her by the hair and held her hands down, and the third gripped her right hadn’t, exposing her forehearm. Irulan saw the sharp silver blade glinting in the low light. Her eyes widened and she squirmed, trying to free herself, but to no avail.

The concubine brought the blade to Irulan’s veins and spat in her face, “Na-Baron is ours,” before slicing her flesh.

Unimaginable pain reddened Irulans’s vision. She screamed and thrashed until all strength abandoned her, and, sensing that, the concubines released her, letting her fall to the ground. When her head hit the ground, Irulan was drowned in darkness.

Irulan regained consciousness in an unfamiliar room with an never-before-seen face in front her and a dull ache in her arm.

She blinked awake and tried to sit up in bed, but the man before her held her down softly. “Easy, princess. You’re very hurt.”

Irulan then noticed that the man was slicing a needle through her already mutilated flesh. The white thread that sealed her wound contrasted with the red-brown blood. She was sleepy and her mind was working very slowly, but all sleepiness evaded her once she heard a voice outside the room shout, “Where’s my wife!”

No one was there to answer Feyd-Rautha’s command, and they needn’t be—a moment later, he burst through the door like a sandstorm.

His eyes found her lying form immediately as he strode forward until he was right beside her. There was no smile on his face, nothing but ferocious outrage. His black gaze eyed the wound in her arm.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, his voice low with rage.

She scoffed. “I won’t tell you. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Who,” he repeated.

Irulan narrowed her eyes at him. “They must have been listening behind the door as we… spoke.”

That was enough for him. After another moment of intense eyeing, Feyd-Rautha turned around and left. No sooner had the man that must’ve been her healer finished stitching up her wound that her husband was back.

“Come with me,” he said, reaching out his hand for her to take. “It won’t be far.”

She took it, despite how tired she felt.

Feyd-Rautha led her to a room with black walls and floor, and she noticed the three women lined up with their heads bowed low, their white skin glinting in the black darkness like fog. He made Irulan stand in front of them as he took his knife from the table besides and then came back to her.

“Which one of them hurt you?” he asked.

Irulan swallowed. “If I tell you, next time they will surely kill me.”

Without taking his eyes off her, without even moving—Irulan only saw his right hand slice the air swiftly—but it didn’t slice air, it slid the first concubine’s throat. Blood poured from the wound as the woman grasped at her throat in panic, trying to desperately stop the bleeding. She fell to the ground with a thud—the same way Irulan had mere hours ago.

“Was it this one?” Feyd-Rautha asked, never letting his eyes leave her.

Irulan shook her head. “She held my mouth shut.”

The other two bowed their heads even lower, visibly shivering.

The fury that overcame him was more visible by the way his muscles twitched under his skin. The second kill was just as smooth and barely visible, the same scenario repeating itself—Feyd-Rautha sliced the throat of the concubine and she fell dead.

“This one?”

“She grabbed me by my hair,” Irulan said.

He took a step toward the last of his pets, not sparing her a single glance, and the woman fell to her knees before him, “Na-Baron, I did nothing wrong, I’m begging you, she’s lying!”

Feyd-Rautha looked down at his concubine with nothing but wrath in his eyes. Then looked back up at Irulan.

“Did this one draw your blood?”

She swallowed, then nodded, watching with wide eyes as Feyd-Rautha’s blade sank into the left eye of the concubine. She screamed as blood poured from it, trying to stop the flow just like the other two before her. He pulled the blade out and repeated the process on the other eye. Then, more driven by a wish to end this as soon as possible rather than a sentimental feeling of mercy, he slit her throat, ending the third life.

Irulan watched in awe at the three bodies at her feet but Feyd-Rautha’s presence was the only one that demanded attention.

She looked up at him. He stepped closer, taking her face in his palm while the other hand held the bloody knife.

“I promised you, wife,” he said. “Anything you want.”

THE END