#she's beauty she's grace she can't even turn her face

[edensrose]

Well you absolutely gorgeous, aren’t you, sweetheart?

Such delectable choice and taste of aesthetic and formatting. Pretty little thing we got here huh?

Could I be lucky enough to request a little something for the strongest himself?

How ‘bout a sweetheart reader, blissfully unaware of the hearts she’s got beating twice the normal drumbeat.

And yet Satoru joins the game of chase for fun, to see if he could make her feel something for him. He went in thinking he wouldn’t fall. But he did, he fell bad. And she doesn’t see it— making it turn into a little obsession for him to get it to click for her.

Thinking ‘bout some indirect kisses too? Subtle hand touches, until it becomes full-blown in a messy, desperate attempt to get her to see it. Whatever this delves into, I think I’ll leave to you. Sweetheart.

˖ 𑣲 𝓐 ll the ways you ruin me

˚₊‧꒰ა satoru gojo ﾉ sweetheart.ᐟ reader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ he's always known that you were too good for him — but what happens when he tried to make you fall and you're not noticing? his desperation and desire keeps growing, but you're not batting an eye ꒰ ᡣ𐭩 ꒱ lovesick toru ˖ smutty end ˖ oral ( f. receiving ) ˖ 1.4k

໒꒱ ‧₊˚ eden , anon you want me so bad don't you? it's okay no one's lookin we can kiss

. ۫ᯓᡣ𐭩 TEASER .ᐟ “Can't do this anymore,” he heaved. Ragged, rough, nothing like the man you know. His lips felt like fire and his tongue like ice. “Need you to see me. Need you to need me.”

She was a charmer, they said.

Look into her eyes and you've lost, they said.

But Satoru Gojo never knew what it meant to back down from a challenge. You were beauty, grace, power — all three of which he's admired since your shared years in Jujutsu High.

He'd watched you grow into the woman that you are now. Claw your way to the top with pretty, charmed nails and glossy lips wretched in that smile both parts insane as it was beautiful. He'd seen how the masses fell for you; the woman they once turned their back on.

Your charm was what intrigued him. He didn't quite remember that from high school. Oh, how you paraded yourself like the definition of elegance — as you deserved, because you were. How you smiled to get what you wanted, allured just because you thought it was fun. Men, women, you didn't care, it's not like half of it was intentional in any case.

Satoru felt something he hadn't quite experienced before. A certain tug and blister to his soul. Jealousy, of you? What would he need to be jealous of, he's the strongest. Even your title, the second, is a nod to him.

No, jealous for you. The way you batted those pretty lashes and crooned at the next poor fool who was ready to play into your hand. How your charms pulled even the most stoic of faces and touched the coldest of hearts. He wished it was for him; and it was. Your little flirtationship and pointless competitions were solely for him, no one else could fit his shoes after all.

But they weren't only for him, and that's when he decided: wouldn't it be fun to charm the charmer?

It started with amped-up flirts. Compliments that lit up your face and twinkled your eyes. Suggestive brushes when you'd sway those dangerous hips into his office with files for your newest shared lesson. He asked you out for dinner, once, twice, thrice — hadn't you seen him staring at your lips all night?

Couldn't you see the way his fingers ached for you? Your hands, your waist, those thighs you hardly hide in silk dresses and preppy skirts. Surely, his blue eyes spelt out every desire for you. If you'd let him his tongue could too —

Woah, where'd that come from? That's not how it was supposed to go. This was another competition, a silly little game. But how can he play when you're cheating with those stunning eyes, plush thighs, damning voice and a brawn that matched his? How could he play with the only sorcerer that came close to his strength and turned it to putty in your pretty, dainty hands?

Suddenly, he didn't want your affection and attention for the sake of some bet he made for his pride. He needed it like a lifeline. Like the air that left him whenever you were around. Like the food that tasted bland if you weren't opposite from him.

But you hadn't made a move on him. At best he got your hand tight around his collar after a teasing, flirtatious jab. How close you held him, face-to-face. He could have died in your palm if it meant to be consumed by you.

You still flirted with others. Still held several hearts in your hand without even trying nor intending. His heart. His soul. Why couldn't you see what you'd done to him? Why couldn't you see what you turned him into?

It felt like he was losing his mind. He waited for cataclysmic curses so that you'd be assigned on his missions. Counted the seconds for some free time to rush to your door for a 'surprise visit'. But you took everything with a grain of salt.

Were you playing with him?

Is this what they mean when they called you a siren?

His last thread of control snapped one fateful night in his office. Your hands brushed with an exchanged document, his slid to your wrist, trapped it in his large hand. And you smiled, tilted your head and bid him goodnight, tried to slip from his hold.

As if you didn't see his eyes, didn't feel his hands, feel the weight of his need. Here you were again, trying to flutter out of his grasp.

He trapped you like a helpless butterfly. Pinned your wings to him. Crashed into you with the force of a flame that grew tired of a moth's antics. Your gasp into his mouth stroked a satisfaction deep within him. You both stumbled through the dim office. He caught you on his desk, one hand fixed behind your head and the other on your waist.

"Can't do this anymore," he heaved. Ragged, rough, nothing like the man you know. His lips felt like fire and his tongue like ice. "Need you to see me. Need you to need me."

"Satoru — "

"Yeah, just like that baby."

You melted into his hands as if you belonged there — no, you did. Your lips moulded on his just right, your tongue submitted to his, thighs fit in his palms like they were the arms of your throne, his face was naturally the seat.

His name came again. This time paired with desperate fingers in his white hair and your sweet taste he'd been dreaming of since this stupid self-bet started. Your panties looped on one ankle, leaving your pretty pussy completely exposed to his tongue.

Eager and firm as it swirled your clit and drew pantings down your slit. The sheer size of his hand allowed his thumb to nudge against your clit in angry little circles. As though his frustration poured out into overstimulating your pretty self.

"Just for me, right sweet girl?" He slurred into your heat. Drinking and gulping down your juices like nectar. Eyes half-hung and hopelessly yours as they stared in a daze at you.

He pinched on your clit when you didn't look down. Still not giving him your attention? Is he a fool for you? "Look -" he heaved, parting with a pop. Your slick glistens his lower face and bobbing throat. "Look at me. Fucking — keep your eyes on me."

You comply, shakily. He can't remember when last he saw you so weak. He can't remember when last he felt so weak. His face buried again. Tongue circling your wet hole then shoving in to fuck you on the pink muscle with reckless abandon.

Strong hands dragged you closer. Sat you flush on his face as you arched into the desk for dear life. He couldn't bear to not have his flesh against yours. Not even for a second. Yet even muffled, the lewd slurps and wet squelches filled his office. How he wished to record the exact moment you gave yourself to him.

"toru - ah - toru oh god —"

"Tell me."

He whined, parted his tongue with syrupy strings connected. He swirled them on your throbbing clit and shoved two fingers into your pussy instead. Pumping, curling, needing you to seal the deal and mess his face. "Tell me you need me. Tell me I'm yours."

"You're - fuck — y-you're mine," your eyes looped back from the onslaught of harsh sucks on your clit. A silent, louder, so you oblige. "You're mine - Satoru-! Mine - mine, 'm yours, ah." Your hands tightened on his hair and your wetness ground on his face in sloppy, pathetic hip rolls.

He's trapped your clit. Messily thrusting his fingers and angling them on a spot he shouldn't even know, yet fucks so expertly. Spraying your juices and trickles of cum all over his face. Evidence that he's yours now.

His eyes looked up as if in search for light. Sure enough, yours shone down upon him. The perfect image of sin as you stuttered your hips into his albeit slower, but still working tongue and fingers.

"This -" you heaved, raking through his snowy hair. "This is your way of confessing?"

Satoru chuckled and the vibrations into your poor cunt elicited soft whines. He huffed, a small pop! resonating as he parted. "Can you blame me? You're as oblivious as sheep." You squeezed your thighs around his head for that one, he groaned and pressed closer. Pink muscle feathering licks on your dripping slit.

"Thought maybe my tongue would spell it out better." He laves a kiss to your clit, sweet and sensual before his hands abruptly shoved up and gripped onto your ass, dragging you back onto his awaiting mouth.

"You thought we're done? Gotta make up for lost time, sweetheart. Arch a bit more, this time."

That damned wink. And he called you the charmer.

© 𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 . no copying, translation or plagiarism authorised

[sarahisslytherin]

villain and violent.

joel miller x reader

summary: joel grapples with the weight of his past and its effect on his relationship with ellie. he can't help but wonder if you could truly ever love a man like him, a man who has done what he has.

contains: lots of angst, talk of violence and murder, ptsd and a panic attack.

a/n: i hope y'all like coffee cos here's one big-ass shot of depresso. but fear not, fluffy ending as per usual. listen to adrienne lenker while reading for maximum effect. gif by @djo.

word count: 1.2k

He wakes in the night with a strangled gasp. He is still holding the gun, still weaving his way through the maze of dark hospital corridors. He is still looking into Ellie’s glazed-over brown eyes as he feeds her lies. He is still cradling Sarah as she bleeds out in his arms, as the light fades from behind her eyes. And then he is in a dingy bedroom lit only by the rays of pale moonlight that manage to slip in through the cracks in the shutters.

He turns to the sleeping figure beside him, quickly recognizing the familiar sight. He does his best to time his shallow breaths to your even ones as you stir, revealing your face to him. He leans down to press a desperate kiss to your temple, the feel of your skin beneath his grounding him in the present. An almost imperceptible smile graces his lips as you mutter gibberish to yourself, lost in some soft dream far more pleasant than his. He resolves to leave you there for now, quietly hauling his exhausted body out of bed and cautiously shutting the bedroom door behind him. 

Your house in Jackson is modest, with vintage wallpaper peeling and leaks in the ceiling here and there, but it's safe. And the moment Joel Miller set foot in it, it became a home. You still remember the feeling when you saw him that first time, embracing his brother with tears in his eyes. Even from afar, you could feel his warmth. If you’d never worked up the nerve to speak to him weeks later, you would’ve probably lived off the stolen glances and accidental brushes of hands for as long as he would have let you. You never would have learned that he had wanted you just as much as you did him. That he didn’t want to scare you off, him being older and all that. You would never have been able to shut his running mouth with a charged kiss, or fall asleep in his arms every other night. Nights like this one.

You turn to nestle your head in the nook between Joel’s bicep and his chest, but find nothing but an empty mattress and ruffled sheets. You force yourself up and feel your way around the room you’ve come to know like the back of your hand until your hand finds the doorknob. The lamplight in the living room is dim but still harsh on your eyes. You can’t help but screw them shut tight as you wrap the blanket snug against you and call out for Joel.

“I’m here, baby,” he answers, his calloused hands coming up to pull you flush against his chest, “I’m right here”. Your head falls against his chest, and it’s impossible not to note the way his heart beats wildly inside. You step back so that you can truly look at him. He isn’t here at all. His graying hair is disheveled, his cotton shirt wrinkled. Mostly, his brows are tightly knit with worry and lined with a sheen of sweat. And his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes; they’re unfocused, pupils blown wide. You know instantly what thoughts are running through his mind like wild horses, gallops thundering louder than anything else. Yet you hold out hope they’ll let him hear your voice.

“Joel, you’re safe.” You whisper, scared to spook him like a wounded animal. “You’re home with me. Everything is okay.” You let the blanket fall to the hardwood floor as you take his shaking hands in your own and press kisses to his knuckles. “Breathe with me, babe. In… and out… nice and slow.” Joel concentrates on filling his lungs with air and expelling it, chest heaving more and more steadily with every motion. 

“Thank you.” He manages to choke out as tears well in his eyes. He presses a kiss to your hair before turning to settle down on the couch. “Go back to sleep, okay?”

You scoff at that, picking the discarded blanket back up as you sit by his side. The ratty couch whines beneath the weight of you both perched on its edge. “Wanna talk about it?”

This time it’s Joel who scoffs. “Nothing you don’t already know.”

“Joel,” you sigh, and he turns to look at you with glassy eyes, “what’s going on?”

You don’t pry him open, just let the question hang in the air. His eyes dart around the room and his hands rub anxiously at his thighs. You rest a hand on one of them and let him intertwine his fingers with yours at his own pace.

“I’m scared.” He admits after what feels like an eternity of silence.” There’s so much I’ve done that haunts me. Not that I regret it. If I had to, I’d do it all again. It was for her. You know that; you know It was all for her. But it haunts me all the same.” Now he brings your hand to his lips , mirroring your earlier action as if searching to ground himself in what is real and here in front of him.

“I’ve failed her. I failed Sarah and now I’ve failed her. And now I’m scared I’ll fail you too. I’m scared one night you'll wake up and realize you’ve been sleeping next to a monster. Sleeping next to a fucking villain.”

“You’re neither of those things, Joel.”

“You don’t know what I am. I don’t think I know it myself,” he sucks in a sharp breath a tear slides down his cheek, “but I know what I’ve done. What I’ve seen and heard. I’ve taken lives, lives like yours and hers. I-”

“You are the love of my life, is what you are.” You cut him off, taking his bearded chin between your knuckles as your eyes find his. “You are a hero. To Ellie, to me. That kid needs you. I need you. And you’re right, Joel. You’re a lot of things to a lot of different people, and your past will always be a part of you. But guess what? People are going to love you anyway. They’re gonna see the part of you that you keep hidden away and still choose you. I’m gonna keep waking up next to you and seeing the man I fell in love with. And she’s going to keep seeing the man who saved her.” 

The silence that follows is almost tangibly lighter, as if you’d physically chasen his fears away. If only it were that simple. Joel says nothing; instead he kisses each one of your knuckles one by one, his eyes closed as he turns your words over in his head.

“Do you promise?” He asks, his voice gravelly and thick from holding back tears.

“Promise what?” You hum as you lean your head against his shoulder and let your eyes flutter closed.

“You’re gonna keep on lovin’ me?” he mutters. If you weren’t so tired, you might even say he sounds shy. You resolve to give him shit about that in the morning.

“Unfortunately for you, old-timer,” you yawn as you arch your back like a cat, “you can bet your ass I will. The nickname earns you a playful jab to the ribs as Joel scoops you up like a bride in his strong arms. The giggle you let out as he sets you back on the bed might be the most beautiful sound Joel thinks he’s ever heard. But he’ll tell you that in the morning.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @sheraayasher @remusandlunakinnie @arianmock13-blog @redroomproperty @bug-boy32 @snow30285 @unicoroncrack @sweet-lies-4me @iamlittlesparkler

[alphynix]

April Fools 2024: The Curious Case Of The Chunky-Necked Ceratopsians

Much like the aquatic Compsognathus featured here a couple of years ago, not every novel idea that came out of the Dinosaur Renaissance was a winner.

And one of the oddest examples came from author/illustrator John C. McLoughlin.

His 1979 book Archosauria: A New Look at the Old Dinosaur featured an unusual interpretation of ceratopsian dinosaurs' characteristic bony frills, proposing that they were actually muscle attachment sites for both powerful jaw muscles and enormous back muscles to help hold up their large heavy heads. This would have completely buried the frill under soft tissue, giving the animals massive thick necks and humped shoulders, and resulted in an especially weird reconstruction of Triceratops with a grotesque sort of wrinkly sewn-together appearance.

This concept didn't entirely originate from McLoughlin – three years earlier in 1976 he'd illustrated Ronald Paul Ratkevich's book Dinosaurs of the Southwest, which seems to have been the inspiration for Archosauria's fleshy-frilled ceratopsians. A few paleontologists had also proposed jaw muscles attaching onto the frills during the 1930s and 1950s, and there's even a book from as far back as 1915 that also shows the top of a Triceratops' frill connected to its back! But McLoughlin's Archosauria image is still by far the most extreme and infamous version of the idea.

There were a lot of things in Archosauria that were actually very forward-thinking for the time period, such as putting fuzz and feathers on small theropods and depicting non-avian dinosaurs as active fast-moving animals. The unique ceratopsian reconstructions, however, never caught on for several big reasons:

Firstly, all that hefty muscle tissue would have locked ceratopsians' heads firmly in place, unable to move at all, which just doesn't make sense biomechanically. Then there was the lack of skeletal evidence – muscles that big should have left huge visible attachment scars all over the frill bones, and there was no sign of anything like that on any fossil specimens. Finally, it turns out the ceratopsian head-neck joint was actually highly mobile, suggesting their heads were free to make a wide range of motions in life.

As wrong as they were even at the time, McLoughlin's ceratopsians were still an interesting speculative idea, and notable for advocating for fleshier dinosaur reconstructions at a time when paleoart was trending towards shrinkwrapping.

Further reading under the cut:

A Very Alternative View of Horned Dinosaur Anatomy, Revisited – https://tetzoo.com/blog/2020/11/22/alternative-view-of-horned-dinosaur-anatomy

Trope of the Buffalo-Backed Dinosaur – https://tetzoo.com/blog/2020/11/27/trope-of-the-buffalo-backed-dinosaur

Vintage Dinosaur Art: Archosauria - Part 3 – https://chasmosaurs.blogspot.com/2013/10/vintage-dinosaur-art-archosauria-part-3.html

Vintage Dinosaur Art: Dinosaurs of the Southwest – https://chasmosaurs.blogspot.com/2016/11/vintage-dinosaur-art-dinosaurs-of.html

The Forgotten John C. McLoughlin Book – https://www.manospondylus.com/2021/03/the-forgotten-john-c-mcloughlin-book.html

[eraserbread]

you and your husband, nanami, have endured your fair share of struggles but, nothing held a flame to postpartum

week three of being a mother was the hardest.

all those sleepness nights between you and kento have finally caught up to you, and your body is fully, finally spent. minds are on a limb, and most days with you and your husband are spent transactionally.

it doesn't help that you woke up this morning with the worst, most painful lump in your breast. you noticed it and decided to feed baby girl on your freezer stash. going about the fast-paced morning with it in the back of your mind, deciding not to burden your husband.

he's already completely out of his element when he's cleaning up after the night shift and nursing breakfast on the stove so you can get your daughter situated. you couldn't bother him—not now.

not until you're kicked back up in bed, nursing pillow around your waist as your newborn suckles helplessly at your reddened, bruised nipple. research you've been scrolling through tells you to keep feeding from it - that the clog will come out with force, but your baby is just too gentle. gumming and suckling at your nipple did nothing but make fires erupt in your breast, face twisted up in agony as you toss your head back to the headboard.

"don't mean to interrupt." kento pushes into the bedroom with a sprawling breakfast tray in his hands. he's carrying a burp cloth on his shoulder, shirtless as he approaches you. "what's wrong?"

"think my milk duct is clogged," you reply, breathless. you've had enough of the pain, so you sit up just enough to switch your daughter to the other nipple - the nipple running on fumes, trying to keep up with the exclusive use.

kento leans over the bed, tracing his finger across his daughter's soft, suckling cheek. she has a tendency to fall asleep while nursing, letting dribbles of milk spill from her little lips. kento loves this, never understanding why you get so flustered about it. when she's asleep like this, the face she stole from him starts to fade into something reminiscent of yours.

"ju- just take her," you whine, trying to gather your composure as you massage the throbbing lump.

kento does whatever you say, now. he immediately takes your daughter into his safe, strong hands, turning and placing her at the bedside bassinet. It's a seamless maneuver; she doesn't even stir.

"i'm going to go crazy. i feel like i'm scrambling and drowning." you're starting to bead sweat at your hairline, deciding to stop in the meantime and pull your bra back up. "thank you for the food. love you so much."

"hey." kento sits down at your propped legs, massaging his hands across the covered skin. "you have me, and I know it's not very comforting to hear when you feel like this, but I will do everything I can... I love you, too."

"no, you're perfect. you're so patient and understanding - dealing with so much of my shit and still working full-time."

"you just birthed a human, give yourself some grace."

"but it's impossible when my body repeatedly fails me."

kento's seen you in many states, but the way you act regarding your daughter is a new kind of monster—a beautiful, passionate monster clawing at your skin that he can't feel; he can only see it.

so, he reaches for his safeword. "what can I do to help?"

"okay." you're shuffling in bed, sheets bunched around your body. against your propped knees he leans, giving you a reassuring kiss over your jaw. "just... just suck, please. you don't have to swallow, I'm sure a lot of milk won't come out."

"it's okay," he nods, helping you push your strap over your shoulder. you're clutching your breast, fingers ghosting over the rock-hard clog just above the nipple. he leans forward and takes it between his lips, warm lips covering the expanse as he starts sucking gently.

even his gentleness is 10x stronger than his daughters, and it makes you throw your head back in a hiss. "Ow, ow, ow, ow—keep going."

so he does. he's holding you, running his hand over your side for some comfort as he works your nipple over. you peek down to look at him, mesmerized by the hollows in his cheeks. you tangle your hand in his hair, swollen with admiration for him as his throat bobs down your milk.

he's flushed and enjoying this, and if it didn't feel like you were being branded by a hot iron, you'd enjoy it, too.

you're crying by the time you feel a pop, then instant relief. it makes you shudder out a thankful moan. "ah, keep going..." you rush, hand massaging back over the softening lump until it's fully dissipated. "ugh, iloveyousomuch, you got it."

kento pulls away with flushed lips, licking over them to bring some moisture back. you pull him into a thankful kiss, trying so hard to hold back hormonal tears when you look at him.

every time you think he cannot get any closer, he's helping you change out your postpartum underwear, standing behind you when you can't see your birth stitches and clean properly. he never mentions more than what he knows you need to hear, and that quiet, thoughtful stoicness is exactly what you need.

his unwavering patience and love were formed in the darkest of times, only to shine light on the happiest.

you two sit side by side and share a cold breakfast, no words breaking the sanctuary you created. he just wants to bite pieces of fruit between your teeth and kiss your sweetness away.

whispering as your daughter starts to stir with hunger,

"you amaze me."

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

The cut that always bleed✧.* - what was i made for?

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any grammatical errors that this story may have.

Y/n L/n was a far cry from Y/n Wayne. Despite both last names, each carrying the weight of a turbulent history, "L/n" felt surprisingly lighter. Both names reminded you of the haunting shadows cast by your mother and father, yet they bore different emotional tolls. As you stood before the mirror, a somber reflection gazing back, you pondered on the 13 years—a whole decade and three more—that seemed squandered on people who couldn't hold your gaze for more than fleeting moments.

Of course, the toll it took on your emotional health was immense, but there was nothing you could do about it. You knew that no matter what you did, you could never capture their attention, not even for a moment. By the age of six, you took up martial arts, hoping your family would be proud of you for sharing their passion. But all you received was a pat on the shoulder from Dick when you won a gold medal.

At ten, you delved into video games, hoping to bond with Tim. You spent four days learning all the rules and knowledge about the game, and two whole weeks mastering it. But when you finally mustered the courage to ask Tim to play with you, he stared at you with bored eyes, barely registering your presence. After twelve minutes of rambling about the game, he sighed, pinched his eyes, and said, "I can't. I'm busy, okay?" before leaving your small room. The video game stayed in a box, forgotten and dirty, for thirteen years, a testament to the same treatment you received over and over.

You took every opportunity, every chance to learn something they were talented in, hoping to catch a glimpse of love in their eyes. But all you got were bored, empty stares. Every hobby you had was dedicated to them, except for one: ballet. The art of dancing, with its sharp and strict moves, dancing on your tiptoes, chin up, and a graceful smile on your face. Nothing could take this away from you, not even Cassandra, who was the apple of her family's eyes as she danced on stage. You loved dancing; it filled your heart with joy and bliss. You believed this was the one thing they could never take from you. That's what you thought.

Ballet demanded strict poise and discipline, watching every bite you took and every drink you swallowed. Your mother was a beautiful woman, enchanting enough to enthrall your father. Her eyes could charm thousands of men and bend their morals to her desire. She was like a siren, captivating men with her ethereal beauty. Your father was no different, dazzling people with his money, perfect white teeth, and undeniable allure. He made heads turn and people giggle at his mere presence. So why did you feel as if you were nothing like them? Created by a goddess and a god, yet you turned out to be so unsightly that your mother sneered and threw you out of her arms, forcing you into the embrace of an unknown man.

You panted lightly, staring at your features in the mirror. Why? Why? Why? Why are you like this? Why can't you feel beautiful? Why can't you be beautiful? Why can't you be a sight for sore eyes like the men and women around you? Their features blended so well with their faces, but you? You felt like a pig with makeup on. You saw beauty in everyone but never in yourself.

Your performance is in about a few more days and you haven't eaten anything healthy for the past 3 days, you're starved, you're pressured, and your family hasn't even answered your text in which you, inviting them to please come watch your performance. Dragging your body to walk home, Alfred unfortunately can't drive you home as he is too busy with work (helping your family with their nightly activities) you hiss as the cold wind blew against your fresh scars-the result of you scratching your face with your nails due to resentment for yourself because of the question in the back of your mind: “why can't you just be good enough?”

The harsh glare of your ballet dance teacher only added more pressure, intensifying the burden on your weak shoulders. You carried the lingering thought that your family didn't care about you and the nagging feeling that you would never be good enough for them. The performance was just a few days away, and you hadn't eaten anything healthy for the past three days. You were starved, pressured, and desperately longing for your family's support. Yet, your texts inviting them to watch your performance went unanswered.

Dragging your exhausted body home, you felt a deep sense of despair. Alfred, who usually drove you home, was too busy with work, assisting your family with their nightly activities. As you walked, the cold wind bit into your fresh scars, the result of scratching your face with your nails out of self-loathing. The question haunted you: "Why can't you just be good enough?"

Your footsteps echoed in the empty streets, each step a reminder of your solitude. The streetlights cast long shadows, mirroring the darkness that seemed to envelop your soul. You could hear the distant laughter of families and friends enjoying their evenings, a stark contrast to the silence that filled your life.

But even though you're killing me

Arriving home, you unlocked the door with trembling hands. The house was quiet, as it always was when you were alone. The once warm and inviting living room now felt cold and unwelcoming. You dropped your bag and collapsed onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a release of the pent-up frustration and sadness. Gasping for breath as you dragged your shivering legs to your cold, small bed room as you dropped your exhausted form to your squeaking bed, staining your pillows with your tears.

I need you like the air I breathe

In your heart, you still held onto a sliver of hope that your family would show up to your performance. You envisioned them in the audience, watching with pride as you executed every move with precision and grace. But reality was harsh, and you knew deep down that their absence would cut deeper than any physical wound. But you needed them. They were the salt to your wounds yet you still crave for their attention. It's not too late right?

Please.

You spent the next few days in a haze, practicing relentlessly for the upcoming performance. Every pirouette, every leap, and every graceful move was tainted by the thought of your family's indifference. You pushed your body to the limit, hoping that the pain would numb the emotional agony. Again, again, again– again y/n! You need to perfect this! This could be the chance for you to prove to them that you're worthy of their attention! That you belong in this family just as much as they do! You can't give up. Stop trembling. Stop acting so weak. If you don't stop acting like a child then maybe they'll eventually throw you out of the house too.

Please

The day of the performance arrived, and you stood backstage, nervously adjusting your costume. Your heart pounded in your chest as you peeked through the curtains, scanning the audience for familiar faces. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear that your family was not coming. Your lips trembling, your brain can't fathom the idea of them not coming to this performance—of course you'd expect y/n to be unsurprised by this behavior but it's not fair! You worked so hard for this only for them to answer you with nothing but silence.

I need you more than me

You destroyed yourself for this; for them! You worked every bone in your body and stretched every limb of yours, starved yourself for days, just for them to dismiss your one request to just be there. You just wanted that family where they were all so supportive of you, they all loved and adored you. The worst part is they are just not to you. And you had to learn that the hard way.

I need you more than anything

Summoning every ounce of strength, you stepped onto the stage. The spotlight shone brightly, and for a moment, you felt a surge of confidence. The music began, and you moved with the grace and elegance you had practiced so hard to perfect. Each step was a testament to your dedication, a silent plea for recognition and love. Tears threatening to spill from your eyes as a feeling of pain and happiness surged through your chest.

As you danced, the audience watched in awe. To them, you were a vision of beauty and talent. But inside, you felt empty. Every jump, every turn, and every sway of your limb was dedicated to them. With trembling lips you swallow the lump in your throat and ignore the pain in your chest as you play your part of the performance. The applause at the end of your performance was hollow, a reminder that the ones you longed to impress were not there to see it. Backstage, you received praise from your fellow dancers and instructors, but it did little to lift your spirits. You longed for a simple word of encouragement, a sign that your family cared. Instead, you were met with silence. You smiled faintly at them thanking them and exchanging a few compliments here and there. At this moment you couldn't feel anything. You were numb from all the pain you have suffered from this family.

Please, please

That night, as you lay in bed, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on your chest. You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of inadequacy. The question echoed once more: "Why can't you just be good enough?"

"Those days are over," you say to yourself as you pack your bags and place your belongings into boxes. You've grown, and after 13 years in the manor begging for scraps of their attention, you've realized that what you want will never become reality. It took you a whole decade and three more years to come to this realization. You shake your head softly and smile sadly. What were you thinking? Of course, they wouldn't care about you. Your normalcy and mediocrity never appealed to them, and you’ve decided those days are finally over. It was time to move out and discover what you were truly meant for.

"What was I made for?"

you ask yourself. This question feels so much better than constantly wondering, "Will they finally look at me?" You take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air of your new home. You breathe in and out, closing your eyes for a moment. This was it. You had made it. Slowly, you open your eyes and look at the people surrounding you, those who truly cared for you and saw you through your scars of insecurity, your perfect little hobbies, and your flawed personality. To them, you weren't Y/n Wayne, child of a billionaire, nor Y/n L/n, child of a prostitute. You were just Y/n, who tried so hard, failed, but ultimately succeeded.

The manor has been noticeably quiet for the past few days. The silence weighting discomfort as if something was wrong–as if something was missing. It was surprisingly first noticed by none other than Richard Grayson himself. The first Robin of Batman, the irreplaceable side kick, the first son of Bruce Wayne, and the darling of the crowd whom everyone loves and adore. As he walked through the large halls of the home he grew up in, he felt something was out of place. Like something wasn't in place or rather something was missing. It took him some time to figure it out as the clock ticks

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

Aha! He's got it! It was because there wasn't any classic orchestral music playing through the thick walls of the manor. The soft music of pyotr tchaikovsky wasn't heard anywhere around the corners of the walls. That's strange. The sweet melody of violins and cellos wasn't found in any room at all. He didn't know why but it bugged him. He sighs as he disregards it, nevermind he said, must be Alfred playing his favorite old songs. He walks around the manor to look for his siblings and father and somehow stumbled upon this.. Unknown and empty small room. “wow this is.. Something” he muttered under his breath. He inspected the room and saw multiple trophies decorating the room. It was impressive how someone can achieve this many gold medals and such. His gaze traveled across the room and saw a box full of webs and dust, and got interested as he opened it to see an old video game and thought that it must have been Tim's before he decided to throw it away out of boredom. With no more much to do he slid through the doors and whistled his way out of the room, unaware of how many memories a person created in that very same room withering away.

Tim and Damian recognized the absence of humming and the pattern of footsteps that used to echo around the house from an unknown room. The silence made them uncomfortable. They had grown so accustomed to the faint noise that it had somehow brought them comfort. The melodic lullaby of humming painted a serene picture of paradise, lulling them easily to sleep—a struggle they had faced all their lives as vigilantes, or in Damian's case, as an assassin. Their heartbeats aligned with the rhythm of the faint noise.

For Tim, it was a sweet form of salvation from the demons that haunted his nights and kept him from a good night's sleep. For Damian, it was the comfort he never knew, a stark contrast to the heavy stare of his grandfather and the weight of expectations placed on his shoulders by his mother's watchful gaze.

Jason couldn't care less about what happens around that manor. He hated that place. It made him rethink all the moments he wished he could take back. Jason Todd is a hateful man but a good soldier. He destroys in order to protect. He kills in order to let another live. A morally gray person. In his eyes he was what Bruce wayne–Batman couldn't be. But even a man who goes out at night to protect needs a break. So when he came to the manor and went straight to the library and saw that the usual piled up classic books weren't to be seen at their usual spot he found it.. Unsettling per say. The books written by Jane Austen that were filled with marked pages, sticky notes, and annotations not found in the main table of the room were strange to him. He didn't even know who did it but it made him feel like he was home. The silly doodles and random words written on the sticky notes, careful not to dirty the book, made him chuckle every time he saw it; so where was it now?

Cassandra was into ballet. She grew up silenced, observing others, forever cautious. as to why she expresses herself through dancing: ballet. A moment where she can breathe and let go. Where she can freely pour her heart into dancing. Every point, every movement, she releases her unsaid emotions. She was raised that way. Except then she was thought to swallow her words and release her pent up emotions into bad things instead of gracefully dancing. She was completely in love with dancing. Whenever she went to collect her ballet shoes there's always an extra bandage, extra shoes played on the floor. She never knew why and she never questioned it. Just ignored it. But now she somehow froze at her spot to see nothing but her shoes and not next to the light pink ones that had a small bow to compliment its design. Ever so stunning; the person who wears it must have been the same kind of persona-wait.. Person? There's another one.. Oh.

Bruce Wayne was a busy man. By day, he handled his company, Wayne Enterprises. His days were filled with paperwork, meetings, and managing marketing strategies. But by night, he never slept. No, he donned the mantle of Batman, the prince of Gotham City, the guardian of Lady Gotham. He didn't have time for anything he deemed unworthy of his attention. He noticed every tiny mistake, be it at work or on the streets of Gotham. At work, he spotted grammatical errors and unstraightened lines of decorative mugs. As Batman, he detected the slightest hint of lies in a criminal's eyes. So, yes, he noticed that something—or rather, someone—from the manor was missing.

As dick whistled his way out of the room unable to find his family members, he decided to go to the batcave and have a little fun while being alone. He did all things he could think of. Look for more cases to solve, dig some stuff out criminal records, blah blah blah.. Then he decided to check the manor's CCTV.

As dick was checking the cctv's of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage-about 2 weeks ago of a person..? Packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible.. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates, it's impossible. Unless..

Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled and his eyes dilated..

It can't be.

You.. Y-..y/n? What were you doing? Where are you going? He bit his lips harshly as he watched the footage like a hawk. His hands came to fidget with his hair. Was that really you? You look so grown.. Several thoughts ran through his mind as he pondered on what you were doing. After a matter of time he somehow remembers. Oh yeah! Your contact number. His hands trembling, in a hurry he pressed your name in his phone and.. Shoot. His eyes widened at the several missed calls and texts from you. Not even a single response from him. Come to think of it, when was the last time he talked to you? Like, really talked to you? He quickly text you “heyy baby birdddd I miss you! Let's hang out right now!” while biting his thumb as he bounced his thighs up and down from anticipation. And then suddenly.. He remembers! The room! It was yours! Before he even knew it, he was quick on his feet and ran like a mad man towards your room. He panted slightly at the face of your door and harshly opened your room unaware of his strength. He went through every corner of your room. He explored every side of your room to find something-anything that can give him even a spoil of information about you. And that was when he found a tiny pink notebook. He chuckled softly, out of breath, hair messed up like a mad man but dick didn't care, no because he finally found your one and only diary! Filled with bows and pink glitters.. Hah..you were so cute. He went through your diary, invading your privacy and saw all of the things you've said. The way you praised him, the way you adored your family, your little adventures, your previous ballet performances (you did ballet? Wow, you're just so talented.. Oh his little bird.) he suddenly heard a high pitched ping! And scrambled to his phone as he expected a response from you but instead all he was met with was “y/n has blocked you”.

What..? Why? Didn't you want to spend time with your precious big brother? His blood shot eyes twitched and sweat ran down from his face. The suddenly a deep voice said:

“dick? What's going on here?”

Note: as promised! Here is the chapter yall asked forrr tell me what you guys think!

[youryanderedaddy]

Pandora

tw: female reader, non-con, free use, sedatives mentioned, prolonged captivity, meta

You often think about your old life, even though you promised yourself - and keep promising yourself, that you won't. You think about all the little joys and freedoms you took for granted - the small, cozy flat you were renting for cheap in a shabby, but hip neighbourhood. Choosing whether to go to a lecture or skip it, those hazy mornings when you'd wake up with your head pounding and a cold compress plastered on your forehead by a caring friend after a wild night. What a privelege it is, you realize now, to be at the center of your own life. To have sugar for breakfast or coffee at midnight, to fuck whoever you want and go out every weekend - to hold your friends and your loved ones close, and to have the option to be picky, very picky, to choose who gets to be in your life. Because for normal people, for all those other star-eyed 20-something year old girls, freedom is the default, a statement of enpowerment, liberation, living the life - for the first time, as an adult.

And you want to spit at their pretty faces. You feel the same way towards yourself from the past - you want to take her by the shoulders and shake her until some wisedom falls off, because she, they, don't know how good they have it. That autonomy is not always a mere state of being, but a continuous figh against the forces gripping it with tooth and nail, making you a slave, a shell of your former self. And he is no different.

He crawls onto the bed with a complete lack of grace, making it creak, the soft foam sinking in under his weight, and you fight a tired groan, imagining the same heavy, sweaty mass of a body laying over you, drowning you in a sea of pretend-softness, of pillows and bloodied feathers, into a dip that could be both a sex hollow, and your personal coffin, eventually. And although you wish you still had the tact to find your own bleak thoughts distateful, the severe repetitivness of this little "exercise", you're assured, would turned even the most sensible into cynics.

"Shh, it's okay." He whispers, covering your mouth with one warm, sweaty palm, muffling all the little sounds you can't help hissing through your already fried vocal cords, while the other strokes your hair gently, but all you can think about is grease. Grease, because he hasn't let you leave the bed in approximately eight days, give or take, ravenously hungry for your flesh. Grease, because he's still wearing that wretched blue uniform, soaked in machine oil - because if you close your eyes, you feel like it's dripping down onto your face and into your mouth through the gaps of his thick crooked fingers.

"It's okay, baby, be good now. It will over in a second. Just lay back and relax." Matt explains slowly as if you're stupid, as if you haven't been in this situation before, in this exact position on your back like some animal in heat, and God, you really hate his name. It's so simple, so honest - sounding, almost sweet, and it makes you want to reach out and claw his eyes out.

Now that you think about it, you hate his eyes too. They are brown, if slightly warm when the sun hits, but no matter how you look at it, there is nothing extraordinary about them. Or about his nose, or his lips, or his ears, or his cheeks; through and through, he's completely ordinary just like every other man on this planet. And perhaps you hate that the most, because in your dreams, in your nightmares, monsters are inhuman. Either inhumanly terrifying with big ugly horns and teeth as sharp as a dagger, or inhumanly beautiful, with hands so soft they pull you in before they devour you. Monsters are not boys like Matt. And things like this don't happen to normal, ordinary girls like you. And yet.

"Shit, you're so tight, n-ngh." In the heat of the moment he grabs the fat of your thigh, squeezing it for leverage - and it allows him to thrust into you harder, harder, pumping in so fast it almost frustrates you.

He's completely obsessed with you, keeping you tied down to his bed day and night, trembling over the possibility of you somehow breaking free. He fucks you as much as he wants, whenever he wants, because there is nothing you can do about it, besides lay there and take it. You'd scream if his hands weren't in the way. You'd fight if you weren't numbed down to your very bones with sedatives, unable to move an inch. But despite all his twisted efforts, the sadistic thrill of seeing you fully at his mercy, only a tad more human than a blow-up doll, he's never satisfied. Never slows down, never tires - over and over and over again, and you're exhausted.

"A-angel, you have no idea h-how perfect you look like this. F-fuck, I want to be inside you forever." Matt moans, breathing into your hair, staring at you forehead-to-forehead from above, and for a split second, you stare back.

And just for a second, you let your hell break loose. Somehow rehearsed, somehow repetitive, familair tight warmth washes over you, starting from your abdomen and spreading well into your lungs, making it hard to inhale. It's as if your throat muscle clamps down, refusing to let the tears go, to let them pop in and show their ugly heads to the world that, frankly, can't see you anyways, because he took you and hid you deep into his tower. And no one can see them now.

"I can't believe I found you, my love. I am never, ever letting you go. We never have to part again. Now we can truly be together forever." He mumbles feverishly, shoving into you with sloppy frenzy as he always does when he's close to climax. He pushes your whole body down and brings your legs up, bottoming out just to jut in again with newfound ferocity. And then he kisses your temple softly, very, very softly, as if to apologize for the entire thing. But it hurts nonetheless.

As the tears gloss over your eyes, burning your retina with acidity, you wish you could scream. Alas, dolls can only sing when their key is turned - and yours already sinked to the bottom of the ocean, never to be found again.

[cap-winter-barnes]

Hangman's Sister (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Y/N is Hangman's little sister - everyone on the Dagger Squad knows she's dating Bob, except for her big brother.

Warnings: mentions of PDA? Little bit of sass from Bob.

The Hard Deck is teaming with Naval personnel when you arrive in the early evening. The drive in gave you enough time to prepare for the onslaught of friendly greetings from the rest of the squad - your friends. Well, first and foremost they are your brother, Jake Seresin's, team and friends. Yet as Maverick's assistant, they welcomed you onto the team as if you were just another Lieutenant.

As it was technically your day off and the weather was overbearingly humid, you'd opted for a small blue summer dress, the colour coincidentally the same shade as your favourite Lieutenant's eyes. As you enter the bar, you make a beeline for Penny, grabbing a bottle of water from her as you ask her how the crowd has been so far. "Nothing too rowdy yet, but then again, Maverick hasn't shown up yet." You both chuckle at her remark before she points out the Dagger Squad over by the pool table. With a brief hug and a smile, you make your way over to the team.

"Hey, if it isn't little Seresin!" Fanboy makes your presence known as the rest of the squad cheer at your arrival. Bob's attention is immediately on you as he takes in how beautiful you look in your dress, smiling as you make your way around the team, greeting everyone with a brief hug - yet your eyes stay on him until you're standing in front of him.

Bob pulls you into a tight hug, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he does so - he's missed you.

"How's my favourite Weapons System Operator doing?" You make sure to hold onto him longer than everybody else, appreciating the feel of him holding you tightly.

"Better now you're here, beautiful." He never fails to make you giddy with his terms of affection. As you pull away, he presses a chaste kiss to your temple - eyes meeting as you move apart.

"Alright, Baby on Board, I think that's enough physical contact for you." The sound of your brother's voice automatically has you rolling your eyes as he pulls you into a headlock.

"Jake, don't be an asshole."

"Sorry Robert, I didn't mean to offend."

"And yet somehow, you always manage." You can't say you're not impressed at the snide remark comes from your boyfriend. The rest of the team, equally surprised at this comeback too. "You know maybe she likes the physical contact with me?"

The group fall silent at this next remark. Your heart thunders in your chest as you stare, shocked at Bob's face. There's a confidence there that you rarely see, but my God, you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.

"What the hell did you just say?" All playfulness leaves Jake's voice as he lets you go, straightening his body to tower over Bob.

"You heard me, Bagman."

The tension in the Hard Deck is ridiculously thick, an uncomfortable silence slowly spreading throughout the bar. Without hesitation, you throw yourself between the two men, pressing yourself against Bob as he refuses to break eye contact with your brother. His arm immediately wraps itself around your waist, hand resting firmly on your waist, fingers deftly clinging to the material of your skirt. You lean into his touch, "Bobby, please. That's enough." Bob's gaze immediately turns to you, his forehead pressing against your own as he nods.

"M'sorry, darlin'." A small smile graces your lips as you savour the feel of his lips on your skin. All the while, Jake looks like he's going to combust.

"I'm sorry. Am I missing something here?" Both you and Bob chuckle, leaning into each other's touch as you turn to look at your older brother. The smile never leaving your face. With a sneaky glance to your boyfriend. " Do you want to tell him? Or should I?" A mischievous look passes over Bob's face as he moves his hand lower, gently resting it on the curve of your ass. "Nah, let him figure it out."

With arms wrapped around each other you, you giggle moving to pass your brother as he stares dumfounded, his brain trying to comprehend his little sister and Bob being together.

"C'mon Bagman, we thought you were smarter than this."

"Bobby!"

"Sorry, darlin."

**Author's Note: This isn't my best but I wanted to start writing for Bob because I can't get him out of my head...

[cherry-coffees]

Silk Ribbons and Captured Hearts

Caitlyn x girly girl!reader

cw: 2K words | no warnings, just Caitlyn and her lovely femme <3

Caitlyn is infatuated with you.

Your relationship with Caitlyn is somewhere on the line between acquaintances and friends, running in the same high circles. Your family, much like the Kirammans, is respected and known within Piltover. You've met Caitlyn on many occasions: galas, banquets, other fancy events your parents had dragged you to. 

Most of your time spent together had come from conversing casually at events, or during council meetings whenever you both had been waiting for your parents to finish their work. You’re a few years younger than Caitlyn, so she had offered to help you with any work you had been doing at Piltover Academy. You were a good student as well, matching her intellect. Caitlyn, despite trying to focus on your homework, would find her gaze drawn to you. Watching your eyes light up whenever you talked about something you were interested in, a small, unconscious smile gracing your lips, had easily captivated her.

That was when you were both younger, though. Now, she can't help but take notice of the beautiful woman you had become. All short skirts and fitted tops, sundresses and carefully chosen accessories, you’re like a warm sunbeam that Caitlyn can’t draw her eyes away from. 

It all starts with Caitlyn going shopping in the main streets of Piltover, and she steps into a local boutique filled with cute clothes and handmade jewelry. It's not really her style, but her eyes catch on a stand filled with silk ribbon, and it reminds her of the ribbons you occasionally wear in your hair. And oh, you'd just look so pretty in that shade of purple and-

She leaves with three of them.

A few days later, you’re at a statue unveiling of some old general in Piltover’s army, and Caitlyn sees you again. And fuck you just look so pretty in your white maxi skirt and cropped tank that shows off just a hint of midriff, and Caitlyn can’t stop staring. She finally gets herself together, glancing down at the lavender silk ribbon in her hand. Should she give it to you now? Should she wait? What if you didn’t like it? Worse, what if you don’t like her even after figuring out she’s smitten with you?

Caitlyn immediately clams up, deciding it’s better to give it to you anonymously. She darts off to the area where everyone’s bags and coats are under the guise of finding something she had forgotten in her bag. Once there, she grabs a notepad from her own bag and writes a note:

I thought this would look lovely on you. 

Yours,

Anonymous 

After attaching it to the ribbon and quietly slipping back into the crowd, Caitlyn can’t really focus on the ceremony. She tries, she really does, but the sound of your casual laughter in conversation unwillingly draws her attention. She also tries not to eye you when you politely make conversation with Caitlyn’s own parents, but, well, she’s long since given up on that one. Maybe she’ll have better self-control in the future.

|------» ~~~ «------|

Any thoughts of self-control die the moment you step into the coffee shop where Caitlyn is sitting with Jayce. Because you’re just so beautiful, wearing some lavender sundress and sandals and holy shit is that-?

Caitlyn’s mouth goes dry at the sight of the silky lavender ribbon in your hair — the one she had bought for you — tied around two pigtails hold your hair half-up. She can’t tear her eyes away, even as you step up to order and smile brightly at the barista. So much so that Jayce turns around to see what she’s looking at before turning back to her with a puzzled expression. “Uh, Cait? You good?”

She snaps her jaw shut, nodding tightly. “Yeah,” she lets her eyes linger on you for a second longer. “Everything’s perfectly fine.”

Jayce glances in your direction once again before a knowing smile dawns on his face. “Oh,” he turns back to Caitlyn, eyes smug and teasing. “You like-"

“Shut up,” Caitlyn hisses, glaring deeply at him, half because she doesn’t want you to overhear this and half because she doesn’t want Jayce to have another thing to hold over her. 

Jayce just raises his eyebrows, taking a sip of tea as if waiting for her to explain.

Caitlyn just sighs, glancing down at her own pristine teacup. “I- how can I not?” She mumbles, glancing at you. “She’s, well…perfect.”

|------» ~~~ «------|

And because you just had to go and look so ridiculously, effortlessly, beyond gorgeous in the lavender ribbon, of course Caitlyn has to go and buy five other colors. Because who is Caitlyn if not willing to spend her seemingly endless amounts of money on the little things her love crush likes. A tiny part of her also preens at seeing you so happy to wear something she gave you, as if she’s subtly showing everyone that you’re hers. But she’d never admit to that, of course.

And every time she manages to slip you a ribbon, she leaves another tiny note.

These suit you so much, I thought it would be a shame not to have more.

I think this color will look so nice with your hair.

Please take these ribbons as my way of telling you how beautiful you are.

Your ribbon collection continues to build: baby pink, forest green, crimson red, the lightest grey that reminds you of clouds on a cozy winter morning. You smile every time you find a new one in your bag, keeping the notes safely tucked away in a small box in your closet. You read them from time to time, gently tracing a finger over the words as if you can feel the affection they convey. 

Experimentally, with all this ribbon, you don’t confine it to just your hair. You tie it around your ankle, thinking it looks cute (Caitlyn agrees, smiles way too long when she sees it on you in passing). Then, around your wrists: a pair of bows. And when you show up at her house to drop off something from your family to the Kirammans, Caitlyn’s eyes go wide when she catches sight of the ribbon carefully tied around your upper thigh — just peeking out from the short skirt you’re wearing. 

Holy fucking shit is all Caitlyn manages to register in her mind. She doesn’t pay attention to whatever you’re talking about with her mother. She just pays attention to the gift she gave you, a symbol of her, tied around your thigh. She’s highly tempted to step forward and grab the end of it, untying it just to replace it with her hand and squeeze-

Pull yourself together.

And she does, barely. Manages to mumble out a few weak words as you depart, missing the smug smile that graces your features as you turn to leave. Misses the way you turn a little faster than necessary so your skirt spins and she gets another view of the ribbon wrapped around your thigh. You leave, Cassandra goes on with her business, and all is normal again.

You’re a strong presence in Caitlyn’s dreams that night.

|------» ~~~ «------|

And then one day, there’s a knock on Caitlyn’s office door, and she calls an official-sounding “come in” only for you to enter. Caitlyn stands up a little too quickly, clearing her throat and straightening her uniform. She moves out from behind her desk to face you. “This is- uh- a surprise,” Caitlyn murmurs, eyes flitting to the navy blue ribbon laced through your high ponytail, your hair half up. She’s sure she hasn’t bought you a navy ribbon yet.

“My father sent me to ask if the gala for your mother’s birthday next week will still be in your ballroom?” You ask, shifting nervously. It’s a simple question, one that you don’t really need an answer to.

Luckily, Caitlyn is too distracted to notice. She just blinks, forcing her mouth to move. “Um, right. Yes, it’s going to be held there.”

You nod, your eyes locked with her piercing blue ones. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry for the interruption, I just happened to be nearby and he, uh, wanted to know.”

Even still, Caitlyn only half registers your weak excuse. Her eyes narrow at the ribbon. It’s different than the silky ones she’s bought you: thinner and less shiny. So, instead of formulating one of her usual, sensible responses to you, she can’t help but let her curiosity spill out. “Your ribbon.”

“My-" you touch your hair lightly. “My ribbon?”

“Where is it from?” She asks, flatly. For the past weeks, the only ribbon you've been wearing has been the ones she's been giving you. Was this an old one of yours? Did you buy it recently? Or is it from someone else? Something in her chest tightens at the last idea.

She’s not prepared for the smile you flash her. “Well” you sigh, tilting your head a little as if the answer is obvious. “I thought that since my anonymous gifter keeps buying me ribbon, I should have one in her color.”

…

Wait.

It takes a second of blank staring before Caitlyn’s jaw drops. “You-" she stumbles in her wording — an extremely rare occasion she’s been taught to avoid. But all her composure is lost with you.

“Me,” your smile holds a hint of satisfaction that Caitlyn kind of just wants to scream at. Or kiss off your face. Either one.

“You knew?!” Her tone is incredulous, like she’s been so secretive that she can’t conceive how you found out she was the one gifting you these ribbons. “How?!”

“First of all, I know your handwriting. Remember how you gave me corrections on my schoolwork when we were younger and our parents had council meetings?”

“I-" Caitlyn stutters, a hue of pink dusting her cheeks. 

“And second,” you continue, not quite done. “You haven’t been very subtle about it. You seem to forget something in your bag at every event we’re at together, and then the ribbon happens to appear in mine after you come back.”

Caitlyn’s quiet for a few moments. “Oh.”

You smile. "Yeah, oh."

Caitlyn's blue eyes meet your own, devoid of her usual composure to show her slight nerves. "So...?" her voice is almost anxious.

"So," you repeat, gently reaching up to touch the navy ribbon in your hair again. The one that perfectly matches her navy Enforcer's uniform she's wearing right now. "I wore this...for you."

Caitlyn takes a shaky breath, heart pounding. "Does that mean-?"

She's cut off by your soft lips against her own. Your kiss is gentle and chaste, just a peck, and she barely has enough time to process what's happening before you pull away. "I like you," you say, your smile turning shy.

Caitlyn blinks at you, dazed. She's normally always so in command, so in control of her every action — whether that's in her Enforcer duties or her sharpshooting competitions or just her life in general — but with you, all hope of control always seems to fade. 

She steps even closer to you, gently reaching out a hand to trail along your cheek. "I like you too," she murmurs, and this time, you fear you're the one that's losing your composure because her gaze looks so loving and tender that it makes your cheeks burn. 

And when Caitlyn kisses you again, deeper this time, you allow yourself to sigh against her lips. She kisses you as if you're something fragile, something to be treasured and cared for. And you know, in that moment, that she'll do anything for you.  That, if you asked for the moon, she'd personally find away to fly amongst the stars to take it for you. 

"Are you mine?" Caitlyn asks the second she pulls away with a gentle nip to your bottom lip that makes you shiver. 

"I always have been," you mumble, letting yourself bury your face in her shoulder to hide your flushed cheeks. 

And Caitlyn just smiles, her arms snaking around your waist to pull you against her chest. "That's all I could ever ask for, darling."

[storiesforallfandoms]

moved on ~ thomas shelby;peaky blinders

word count: 2213

request?: no

description: in which his ex comes back after two years, and his fiancée is worried about what this means for their engagement

pairing: thomas shelby x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Tommy didn't expect to fall in love after Grace had ran off. He had loved her more than he loved anyone, and he thought he'd never find that love again.

Until he met (Y/N).

They met at an event Tommy had to attend. He only went to make an appearance, and was looking for a way to leave when he spotted her. Right away, he was taken by her. He spent the rest of the night talking to her, and even drove her home at the end of the night.

Within two months, Tommy had proposed. He couldn't risk losing this one. She made him feel even better than he had with Grace. (Y/N) was the one, he was sure of it. So, he asked her to marry him, and he was beyond ecstatic when she said yes.

Everything was perfect, until the day Tommy took (Y/N) to the races.

It was a scorching hot day in Birmingham. Tommy and his brothers were set to go to the races, and obviously he had asked (Y/N) to come with them. She was wearing a summer dress that Tommy had bought for her and, as he had predicted, she looked breathtaking in it. He couldn't keep his eyes - or his hands - off of her.

"You're going to cause a scandal," (Y/N) teased as Tommy's hand made its way under her dress again.

"No one's looking, love," Tommy assured her, moving her hair from her shoulder so he could start kissing her neck.

(Y/N) fought the pleasure his actions were giving her to push him away. As good as Tommy made her feel, she was no going to let him have his way with her in public.

"Can you get me something to drink?" she asked. "I'm parched, and quite hot."

"Of course, darling."

Tommy gave her a quick peck before going to find a concessions stand.

He was waiting for their drinks when a familiar voice said, "Tommy?"

He thought he imagined it, but he realized that couldn't be it. He hadn't even thought of her in years. There's no way he would suddenly be imagining her again. So, he allowed himself to turn, and there she was.

Grace.

Just as beautiful as the day she left him.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said.

"I didn't expect to see you anywhere," Tommy responded. "I thought you fell off the face of the Earth. Since I never heard from you and all."

A flash of guilt showed on Grace's face. It made Tommy happy to know she felt guilty for what she did.

"I can't apologize enough - "

"No, you can't," Tommy said. He was finally given his drinks. He took them and began to walk away from her.

"Wait!" She took hold of his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Please, let me explain. I'll tell you everything."

Tommy looked down at her hand. It was hard to miss the diamond ring on her ring finger.

"Will your husband be okay with that?"

She seemed to bristle a little at the comment, but she managed to keep her composure. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind me catching up with an old friend."

Tommy held his tongue from correcting her. He wanted to know the truth about what happened with Grace. Even if that's all their meeting was - which it would be - then it could at least be some closure for him. He agreed to Grace's proposal, but only under the condition that she meet him at the Garrison. He needed to have some sort of control in this situation.

It was only as Tommy was walking back to his seat that he realized he hadn't told Grace he was engaged. In fact, he had completely forgotten about (Y/N) for those few moments.

She was still in her seat wen he got back, eagerly watching the current race. The moment he laid his eyes on her, Tommy felt his heart swell. He realized that he felt nothing but contempt for Grace. He wasn't eager for their meeting at the Garrison as he would've been nearly two years ago. It was nothing more than a business meeting to him now, because his heart belonged to one woman.

(Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. "You've been gone for some time. Did you get lost?"

He smiled back. Instead of responding, he sat with her and kissed her cheek. (Y/N) giggled and leaned into him.

Tommy thought about telling (Y/N) about Grace, but he wasn't sure how to. He didn't want her to get upset over Grace's appearance, and their agreement of a private meeting, but he knew there was no way to bring it up without (Y/N) getting upset. He couldn't blame her either. If the roles were reversed and one of (Y/N)'s exes were trying to reconnect with her...well, that person wouldn't be around much longer.

(Y/N) looked up at Tommy and nudged him. "Are you alright? You look deep in thought."

"I saw Grace," he blurted.

"Grace? Like...the Grace?" Tommy nodded. "When? Just then?" He nodded again. "Oh, wow. What did she say?"

"She asked if we could meet up to talk about her leaving."

"What did you say?"

"I told her we could meet at the Garrison."

(Y/N) nodded, her face unreadable. "When?"

"Tomorrow night."

"And...did you tell her about me?"

Tommy was silent. He couldn't lie to her, and his silence was enough of an answer. She turned away from him to focus on the race again. She felt so many emotions that she couldn't even place them. She knew Tommy loved her, and she knew he was loyal, but she was also aware of Tommy and Grace's past. He told her everything about their relationship when they first got together. So she knew how intense Tommy and Grace's relationship had been, and how broken he was when she left.

Tommy reached over and put his hand on her leg. "Love, look at me."

(Y/N) reluctantly turned to face her fiance.

"I will call the meeting off if it makes you uncomfortable," he said. "Or you can come and be there when it happens."

She shook her head. "No, I think that will likely make it more awkward."

Tommy cupped her face. "Do you trust me?"

"My mind is screaming that I shouldn't, but my heart says I do." She chuckled and added, "That sounded so cheesy."

"It did," Tommy agreed. He pulled her towards him to place a kiss on her lips. "I promise this is nothing more than a meeting to get some closure. Any love I felt for Grace disappeared when she did. You are the only woman who has my heart, and that will never change."

(Y/N) smiled and leaned into Tommy. "I believe you. Just...tell her about me the moment she shows up, okay?"

"I will, love."

~~~~~~

The next night, (Y/N) was pacing her and Tommy's shared living room. Tommy had left for his meeting with Grace moments ago. He had kissed her and told her he wouldn't be long, and she had smiled at him but didn't speak. Once he was gone, she had stood and immediately began to walk around the house. Her nerves were making it impossible to be still.

She told Tommy she had trusted him, and that wasn't a lie, but she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of unease and jealousy. It was a cliche to say, but it was Grace she didn't trust. She didn't know Grace besides what Tommy had told her about their previous relationship, and the fact that Grace was now married. But would that be enough to stop Grace from wanting to make a move on Tommy? Would Tommy's engagement be enough?

Her mind would not rest. She was starting to regret telling Tommy she wasn't going to accompany him to the meeting. Even if it would've been awkward, at least her mind would've been at ease.

Before she could register what she was doing, (Y/N) was pulling on a coat and heading out the door. She started walking towards the Garrison. She knew it was a bad idea to just drop in on Tommy and Grace's meeting, but the not knowing was killing her. She couldn't just stay home and wait for Tommy to come back.

It was a slow night at the pub. There were a few men sat along the bar, and three men sat around one table. Harry was wiping down some glassware at the bar when (Y/N) walked in. He regarded her and nodded towards the private room that the Shelby's frequented, signaling that Tommy was still in there. (Y/N) walked towards the room, intending to knock before entering, until she heard a woman's voice on the other side.

"I never meant to hurt you, Tommy. I know I betrayed you, and nothing can ever change that. But you have to know that I did love you - that I do love you. I left Birmingham because I knew it would be better for you if I did, but I never stopped thinking about you."

"What about your husband?" came Tommy's voice.

"I love him, but I'm not in love with him. He has been a marriage of convenience more than anything. He was there, and he had a good job and a good life, and I hadn't hurt him."

There was silence. (Y/N) could only imagine what was happening on the other side of the door. She hadn't missed Grace admitting to still being in love with Tommy, and even if it seemed Tommy had. Or maybe was just ignoring the fact that she said it.

Or maybe he was happy to hear it?

"I've missed you so much, Tommy," came Grace's voice, soft. "I've thought about you every day since I left. I've been hoping for a day where I could see you again, just one more time, and as for you to give me another chance."

(Y/N) could feel her heart breaking. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she backed away from the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Harry looking at her. She wouldn't look directly at him, but she could make out the look of pity on his face. He must've known what was happening in that room, or had some idea anyways.

She was about to leave when she heard Tommy say, "Any chances you had left when you did, Grace."

(Y/N)'s ears perked back up as she moved back towards the door.

"I loved you once, Grace. If you had come back, even after admitting to me your betrayal, I might've taken you back. But I've moved on now. I have found a woman that I love more than anything in this world, and who loves me just as much. There is nothing and no one in this world who could convince me to leave (Y/N), not even you."

There was a silence on the other side. It wasn't until the knob started to turn on the door that (Y/N) realized Grace was leaving. She quickly stumbled away from the door just before it swung open and hit her. She was stood frozen as she looked at Grace - beautiful, blonde, elegant Grace, stood in a crimson red dress and her hair curled. Grace seemed just as shocked to see someone standing on the other side, but swiftly moved around (Y/N) to exit the pub as quickly as possible.

Tommy was sat at the table with a lit cigarette to his mouth. He didn't look surprised to see (Y/N). He took a long drag and blew it out of the corner of his mouth, before motioning with his fingers for (Y/N) to join him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to - "

"How much of it did you hear?" he asked.

"Well, I arrived sometime before her love confession."

"Which one?"

(Y/N) felt an angry heat rise in her face. "There were multiple?"

"There was two. Three, if you count her asking for another chance at the end there."

"Well, in that case I arrived before the second one."

Tommy reached out for his fiancée, gently touching her arm and pulling her to sit next to him.

"So you heard what I said to her, then?" he asked. (Y/N) nodded. "And you know I meant every word."

"Of course I do," she said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just shown up like this. I just couldn't settle down at home while I waited for you. I needed to be here."

"I did offer for you to sit in on the meeting." His tone was light and there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. That's how (Y/N) knew he wasn't being serious, or that he wasn't upset about her appearance.

"I know. I should've taken you up on that," she said. She leaned close to Tommy and kissed his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too, darling. Don't ever think that I don't."

"I won't. I promise."

[itsswritten]

butterfly kisses

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K (honestly it's just a little drabble)

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, lots of fluff, mating frenzy

Summary: Azriel just can't get enough of your wings <3

Wings Universe - More from this world.

Azriel wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky.

He had thanked the Mother every day since the bond snapped, and even more when you accepted it. When Mor had introduced you into his life only a couple of years ago, he never imagined this would be the outcome.

Azriel vividly remembered the first night he met you. It was another gathering at Rita’s, one of the many that had unfolded, now peace settled over the land. 

Mor with playful determination had pulled you over to their table, arm looped around yours– almost in a way that said she wasn’t going to let you escape. He had noticed the faint blush that creeped up your face to your pointed ears, merely from the proximity of your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. He recalled how you offered a shy little curtsy in their presence, that had led to the whole table stifling their laughter. Rhys kindly explained that such formalities were not necessary, especially not in Rita’s of all places. Azriel did his best to contain his mirth at the display, all the while chewing the inside of his cheek to stop the chuckle leaving his lips. He truly couldn’t get over how adorable you were, he'd found himself captivated by your endearing innocence. 

And that was only the start.

Mor explained how she’d met you in town one day and had essentially thrusted her friendship onto you, and it really didn’t take long for Azriel and his family to do the same. 

You were so sweet and caring, and slotted into Azriel’s life so easily that he found it hard to remember a time when you weren’t there at all. Your kindness towards the Archeron sisters, guiding them through the intricate transitions of fae life that they still at times struggled with. Nyx was absolutely enamoured with you, oftentimes seeking your company over his actual family. But they didn’t blame him, because they all did same. Your calm sweet nature was addictive to them all, especially Azriel.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Azriel found himself seeking every opportunity to unravel all your layers. He wanted to know everything about you. From your favourite foods, to the books that captured your attention.

His infatuation all made sense when the bond snapped. 

It was the last solstice.

Azriel had noticed how beautiful you were looking, as you always were. But you were clad in a breathtaking pale pink summer dress, the neckline delicately showcasing your décolletage. As you moved with a natural grace, the fabric billowed ever so slightly at the waist, accentuating your silhouette in a manner that held attention.

Or at least held Azriel’s attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

He watched you carefully navigate the chaos of the room. Nyx in one arm, giving Feyre some rest and reprieve in her pregnant state. Your other hand bringing in the cake Elain had spent all morning baking. Amidst the flurry of activity, you had been so close to dropping the cake. But Azriel's steady hand intervened just in time, grabbing the plate and taking it off you. Except in that moment your hands touched, grazed past one another in a way they had so many times before. 

But that time had been different.

It was Azriel’s turn to almost drop the cake. That all consuming warmth flooded his chest catching him off guard. A golden thread connecting itself to you. The mating bond. Finally.

And based on the bright red flush covering your cheeks, it was clear you’d felt it too. You’d fled the room then, overcome with emotion and what this new revelation meant. 

Though, it didn’t take long for Azriel to coax you round.

Ever the gentleman, he courted you. Taking you on the most thoughtful dates and spoiling you with bouquet after bouquet of flowers. He would leave little love notes and poetry for you to find. That it was really no surprise to anyone, when you decided to accept the bond.

That was only three weeks ago now.

Yourself and Azriel were deep in the mating frenzy. 

Rhys had kindly offered one of his private residences he had on the outskirts of Night. A smaller cottage, but with all the privacy you both needed. And Azriel had taken advantage of that privacy eliciting sounds from you that he would cherish forever and never tire hearing.

And then there were your wings. 

You had revealed them to him the first night after accepting the mating bond, and, Gods, was he done for.

Azriel had taken it upon himself, in the earlier months, to really vet you. His dedication to his role as Spymaster served as a guise for his self-indulgent exploration of you, delving into the intricate details of your being with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Not only had he discovered all the things you love, but he searched for details of who and what you were.

Finding himself holed up in the library at times, hours spent devoted to aquainiting himself to the type of fairy you were. 

He knew you had wings, was the type of fairy whose wings were the delicate kind. Most kept them concealed with magic. Yet, Azriel couldn't shake the thought that perhaps they were hidden not only for protection but also out of reverence for their breathtaking beauty. They were mesmerising. Enough to trap Azriel into some kind of trance. 

And perhaps possessively so, he was grateful not many males were privy to this part of you.

He was watching you now, laying on your front. Bare. Just how he’d left you when he took a moment to freshen up. You were giggling, your legs up and feet fluttering behind you while propped up over something.

“What are you doing, my love?” Azriel purred inquisitively, stepping closer towards the bed.

“Oh…Feyre was just checking in. Asking how much longer we might be,” he could hear you smile when you spoke, and watched as with the brush of your hand the magical parchment and ink disappeared that you’d been conversing with Feyre on.

“It’s not even been that long,”

“We’ve been gone three weeks–”

“And we’ll be gone 300 hundred more,”

You chuckled at his response, “Az, we do need to go back at some point. They need us.”

“I need you more.” There was no negotiating. Your family would be lucky to see you both before the next solstice at this rate.

Not that Azriel needed the frenzy to be satiated by you, but it truly was driving him. The primal need for you, overwhelming. The pair of you only stopped when you both fell into a slumber from exhaustion. And even then, there were many times you found each other in a sleep exhausted haze, tangled within and inside one another again.

The bed dipped either side of your legs, you were still on your front but could feel your mate over you. He had paused though, his eyes falling over your beautiful pink wings. The iridescent skin reflecting lights across the room. He had almost cried when he first saw them after you accepted the bond, mesmerised and overwhelmed by their beauty.

Getting to see this part of you, a part of you that was so private, stirred a gratefulness inside him. But there was something else too, a possessiveness that had slowly been creeping up his mind recently.

In the past three weeks, you had both done every possible maneuver, tried every kind of love making– fucking, screwing, mating. You’d even made him a crumbling wet mess just from playing with his wings. 

But he hadn’t touched yours.

No, they looked so delicate and soft, too beautiful to touch, that he hadn’t dared. 

You felt him situate himself behind you, his warm naked body lightly laying on you, his chest resting on your behind. His arms wormed their way under your hips to get comfy, and you splayed your wings flat against your back to fit him.

“Az?” you asked curiously, glancing slightly over at your shoulder to catch him in your peripheral.

He didn’t respond though, not with words. You felt his soft warm breath blowing on the membrane of your right wing, making your squirm under the touch. Your wing fluttering a little in the air.

“How sensitive are they? Too sensitive for me to touch?” You heard him behind you.

“Hm..” you tilted your head slightly to think, “They’re delicate, but you can touch them. Gently.”

You were waiting for him to wriggle his hand from out beneath you but instead you felt something warm and wet run against the bottom of your wing.

You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your lips at the soft touch. Azriel had taken it upon himself to use the tip of his tongue to explore this part of you, a part of you that was still very new to him. He felt you wriggle under him, and he shifted placing his full body weight on you so you couldn’t move.

His tongue traced the ridge of your wing, and he wasn’t letting up. Not when he’d made that sound from you. He wanted more of that. He moved and pressed his tongue flat against the delicate skin, evoking another moan from you.

“Does that feel good my little butterfly?” he purred, you could feel the smirk on his lips against your wing as he pressed a kiss on them.

You wanted to roll your eyes at his teasing, but it felt too good to do anything other than surrender to his touch.

“I want to hear your words,” he spoke a little more assertively this time, before swiping  his tongue along one of the tubular lines that spread like veins across your wings.

“Yes..” You huffed, before another moan slipped past your lips breathlessly. “It feels good Az…” You felt your body heat, your cheeks for sure rosy, grateful your mate could only hear not see the reaction he was having on you. 

He chuckled softly then, the vibrations from his lips skirting across your wings making them twitch.

“My sensitive little butterfly, ” the new nickname only made you squirm more, your core growing slick at his predatory attention.

Azriel moved his hand then, the one caught under your left hip, so effortlessly moving down to your core, cupping your wet slit as he licked the pink shiny membrane again. 

“Azriel…” you gasped, but his touch didn’t relent.

You knew this was only the start.

a/n: just some lovely little fluffy mating frenzyness! I just love these two, so I may expand a little more on the wings universe and their relationship if you guys would like to see that! Maybe some domestic bliss, or if there's any scenes you'd like me to write for them or parts of their story you're interested in then I'm happy to explore. Also this was written fairly quickly, so please ignore any typos, I only did a quick little check hehe - Lottie

p.s. also thanks to @thisiskaylin who inspired the nickname! She commented on the wings fic that butterfly would be the perfect nickname and I just had to use it <3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

[tregearix]

SINNERS

ITZY Yeji X Male Reader Smut

You sit quietly in the pew, trying to focus on the priest's sermon, but your mind keeps wandering to the stunning woman on your left. A really beautiful woman with porcelain skin seems to glow in the candlelight. You find yourself sneaking glances at her lips as she hums along to the hymns. You also notices a man sit next to her with a little girl on his lap. And then you realize they must be a family.

Get a grip, you scold yourself silently. She's married. Off limits.

But as the service drones on, you can't help but steal more peeks at the beautiful woman. The way her silky hair falls over her shoulders, the graceful curve of her neck, the cleavage beneath her modest blouse...

Your face flushes with shame and arousal. You shift uncomfortably, trying to will away the stirrings in your groin. This is wrong. I shouldn't be thinking about her like this.

Just then, the woman turns to you with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling. "The sermon are boring isn't it," she whispers conspiratorially.

You feel your cheeks burn as the gorgeous woman leans in close, her sweet breath tickling your ear. "Uh, yeah, a bit," you whisper hoarsely, trying not to stammer. Your heart races, pounding in your chest as you steal another glance at her thin, luscious lips.

Yeji giggles softly, her hand brushing against yours as she shifts position. "I'm Yeji, by the way," she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. "What's your name?"

Her touch sends electricity through your body, making your cock twitch in your pants. You swallow hard, struggling to maintain your composure.

You say your name a bit haltingly, your voice cracking slightly. "Nice to meet you Yeji."

Yeji smiles, her eyes roaming over your face appreciatively. "Likewise," she purrs. "You know, I've seen you here before. I always notice you sitting alone."

Before you can answer her question, she leans in even closer, her breasts pressing against your arm. You can smell her perfume, a heady mix of jasmine and vanilla that makes your head spin.

"Tell me something," she breathes, her lips barely an inch from yours. "Are you always this... distracted during sermons? Or is it just something about me?"

Her question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implication. You feel like you might faint, your heart hammering so loudly that makes you worried everyone in the church will hearing it.

You try to play it cool, but your voice comes out shaky. "What do you mean? I'm just... well, I'm not feeling too great today, that's all."

You shift on your seat, trying to will away the persistent ache in your groin. Damn it, not now. You pray silently, hoping Yeji doesn't notice the growing bulge on your pants.

"Yeah, must be coming down with something," You mutter lamely, avoiding her gaze. You can feel her eyes on you, studying your face intently.

Please, just drop it, You beg internally. I can't handle this right now. But even as you think it, you know it's a lost cause. Yeji has you under her spell, and there's no escape.

Yeji's eyes flick down to your crotch for a split second before meeting your gaze again, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, I think I know exactly what you're coming down with," she teases, her voice dripping with innuendo.

She shifts in her seat, crossing her legs slowly and deliberately. The movement causes her skirt to ride up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her smooth, creamy thighs.

Holy shit, you think, your mouth going dry. Is she seriously flirting with me right now? In church?

But even as the thought crosses your mind, you find yourself leaning in closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her scent fills your nostrils - a heady mix of perfume and something else, something primal and intoxicating.

"You know," Yeji murmurs, her hand coming to rest on your thigh. Her touch is electric, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body. "I have a confession to make."

She leans in even closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "I'm not happy in my marriage. My husband... he doesn't satisfy me anymore."

You glance nervously at Yeji's husband, who's sitting beside her with their daughter on his lap, fully focusing on the sermon, oblivious to his wife conversation with you. Turning back to Yeji, your eyes widen in shock and confusion.

"What... what do you mean?" You whisper hoarsely, voice trembling slightly. "You're not happy in your marriage? What are you talking about?"

You also glance around, worried that other congregants might overhear the hushed exchange between the both of you. Your heart pounds on your chest as you struggle to process Yeji's bombshell revelation.

Yeji's eyes gleam with mischief and desire as she leans in even closer, her breath hot against your ear. "Exactly what I said," she purrs, her hand sliding further up your thigh. "My husband... he's a good man, but he can't satisfy me the way I need to be satisfied."

Her fingers brush against the bulge in your pants, making you gasp involuntarily. You feel your cock twitch and harden under her touch, straining against the fabric of your pants.

"I see the way you look at me," Yeji murmurs, her lips grazing your jaw. "I know you want me. And I want you too. I want you so badly, and it hurts."

She presses herself against you, her breasts squishing against your arm as she grinds her hips subtly against your thigh. The heat of her body seeps through your clothes, making you shiver with anticipation.

"Meet me at the storage room in 5 minutes," she breathes, her hand cupping your hardness through your pants. "We can... talk more privately there."

With that, she pulls away, leaving you aching and desperate, your mind reeling with the implications of her words. You watch her turn back to her husband, plastering on a sweet smile as if nothing had happened.

Is this really happening? A beautiful married woman is trying to hook up with me? Your head is spinning, trying to process the incredible turn of events.

You watch in disbelief as Yeji gets up from the pew, murmuring something to her oblivious husband. She glances back at you, her eyes smoldering with desire, before sauntering down the aisle.

You adjust yourself discreetly, trying to ease the ache in your crotch. Your cock is rock hard, straining against the confines of your pants. You can't remember the last time you was this turned on.

As Yeji disappears around the corner, you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. This day was supposed to be a normal Sunday for you but then this is happening. Your mind is battling away - should you go or not?.

Seconds goes by, minute after minute, and you still can't make your choice. You glance at Yeji's husband and daughter anxiously.

Fuck, what do I do? You think to yourself, palms sweating. This is wrong, she's married. But god, the way she was looking at me...

You shift uncomfortably on your seat, your cock throbbing painfully in your pants. You know you should probably just stay put, but the temptation to following Yeji to the storage room is overwhelming.

Screw it, You decide finally, standing up on shaky legs. I'm going to see where this leads, consequences be damned.

You slip out of the pew, trying to act casual as you make your way towards the church annex where the storage room is located. Your heart pounding loudly in your chest, your steps quickening with each passing second, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

What am I doing? you think frantically, your mind a whirlwind of excitement and anxiety. This is crazy. I could get caught. Her husband could find out.

But even as the rational part of your brain screams at you to turn back, your feet carry you forward, drawn to Yeji like a magnet. You reach the door to the storage room, your hand trembling as you reach for the handle.

Taking a deep breath, you push the door open, stepping inside. The room is dimly lit, filled with dusty boxes and old furniture. But there, in the corner, stands Yeji, her eyes glittering with desire.

"I knew you'd come," she purrs, sauntering towards you. Her heels click on the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"I couldn't resist," you admit, your voice rough with need. "You're just... irresistible."

Yeji laughs, a low, seductive sound. "Flattery will get you everywhere, mister," she says, reaching out to trail a finger down your chest. "Now, why don't you show me just how irresistible you find me?"

Your breath catches in your throat as she presses herself against you, her hands roaming over your body. You can feel every curve of her, every soft inch of skin. It's intoxicating, overwhelming.

"Fuck, Yeji," you groan, your cock throbbing almost painfully in your pants. "You're driving me crazy."

With that, you crashed your lips against hers, kissing her with a hunger that steals her breath away. Yeji hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer and deeper. You kiss her like a man starved, like she's the only thing that matters in the world. And for this moment, in this dimly lit storage room, she is.

Your hands roam greedily over Yeji's curves, feeling the smooth, supple skin beneath her clothes. You palm her breasts, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh, feeling her nipples harden under my touch. She moans into your mouth, muffled by the sounds of furious kissing.

You slide your hands lower, skimming over her waist and hips, gripping her ass and pulling her flush against you. You grind your rock-hard cock against her, letting her feel how much you wanted her, how desperately you need to be inside her.

"Fuck, Yeji," You groan, breaking the kiss to trail your lips down her neck. "You will be the death of me."

She gasps, tilting her head to give me better access to her sensitive skin.

You continue to explore Yeji's body with your hands and lips, reveling in the soft moans and gasps that spill from her mouth. Your fingers slip under her blouse, caressing the smooth skin of her back, tracing the lacy edge of her bra.

"Please..." she breathes, arching into your touch. "Touch me..." she whimpers needily.

Her words send a bolt of pure lust straight to your cock, making it throb almost painfully in your pants. You slip your hand around to her front, cupping her breast and squeezing gently. Her nipple is hard against your palm, straining against the thin fabric of her bra.

"I need you too, Yeji," you growl, your voice rough with desire. "I need to taste you, to feel you..."

With that, you drop to your knees in front of her, your hands sliding up her thighs to bunch her skirt around her waist. You bury your face between her legs, inhaling deeply. The scent of her arousal is intoxicating, making your head spin with want.

You nuzzle against her clothed pussy, feeling the heat of her through the damp fabric of her panties. She tangles her fingers in your hair, tugging gently as she grinds against your face.

"Oh yes.." she moans, her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Oh god, yes..."

You hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties and tug them aside, exposing her glistening pink folds to your hungry gaze. You lean in, running your tongue along her slit, tasting her essence on your lips.

She cries out, her grip on your hair tightening as she rocks her hips against your mouth. You lap at her eagerly, savoring the sweet nectar of her arousal, your tongue delving deep to stroke her most sensitive spots.

"Fuck," she gasps, her thighs trembling around your ears. "Don't stop, please don't stop..."

You have no intention of stopping. You're going to make her cum, to make her forget about everything except the feeling of your tongue on her pussy. You're going to ruin her just like she desired, you're gonna make her crave you like a drug.

And as you redouble your efforts, as her moans grow louder and more desperate. You pull away from Yeji's dripping pussy for a moment, looking up at her with lust-filled eyes. "Shh," You whisper urgently, reminding her where we are. "Don't be too loud."

She bites her lip, nodding in understanding as she tries to stifle her moans. You grin wickedly before diving back in, your tongue delving deep into her tight channel. You lap at her greedily, savoring her sweet taste and the way her thighs tremble around your ears.

"Mmmph..." she whimpers, her fingers tangling in your hair as she rocks her hips against your face.

You double down your efforts again, determined to make her cum hard on your tongue. Your nose brushes against her clit as you tongue-fuck her, the lewd wet sounds filling the storage room. You can feel her getting closer, her pussy clenching around your tongue.

"Give it to me Yeji," You growl against her sensitive flesh. "Cum for me, baby. Let me taste that sweet nectar."

Her whole body goes rigid, her back arching as she throws her head back in ecstasy. "Fuuuck!" she cries out, her pussy gushing around your tongue as she rides out her intense orgasm.

You lap it all up, drinking down her delicious juices like a man dying of thirst. You don't stop until she's trembling and whimpering. Her thighs shaking so much, threatening to giving up.

You pull back, licking your lips in satisfaction as you admire your handiwork. Yeji is sprawled against the wall, her chest heaving, her eyes glazed over with pleasure.

"Holy shit," she pants, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "That was... incredible."

You stand up, pressing yourself against her, letting her feel the hard length of your cock straining against my zipper. "Oh, we're just getting started, beautiful," you promise darkly, your hands sliding down to grip her ass.

Yeji's eyes widen as she feels the hard length of your cock pressing against her. She licks her lips, her gaze smoldering with desire.

"Mmm, I can't wait to feel that inside me," she purrs, grinding her hips against yours. "I want you to fuck me so hard, I won't be able to walk straight for a week."

You groan, your cock throbbing at her words. You reach down, undoing your belt and zipper to free your aching erection. It springs out, slapping against your stomach, already dripping with pre-cum.

Yeji's eyes widen as she takes in the sight of your impressive length. "Oh my," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around your shaft. "You're even bigger than I imagined."

You hiss through your teeth as she starts to stroke you, her hand gliding up and down your length. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more of her touch.

"Fuck, Yeji," you groan, your head falling back against the wall. "That feels so good."

She smiles wickedly, her hand speeding up, twisting on the upstroke just the way you like it. "I want to make you feel good," she purrs, her other hand reaching down to cup your balls. "I want to make you cum so hard until you'll see stars."

Yeji sinks to her knees in front of you, her eyes never leaving yours as she reaches for your throbbing cock. Her small, delicate hand wraps around your thick shaft, barely able to encircle its girth.

"Mmm, you're so big," she purrs, stroking you slowly. "I can't wait to taste you."

You groan as she leans in, her hot breath ghosting over the sensitive head of your cock. Her tongue darts out, licking a bead of pre-cum from the slit. The sensation is electric, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine.

"Fuck, Yeji," You gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily.

She smiles up at you, her eyes glinting with mischief before she parts her lips and takes you into the wet heat of her mouth. You let out a low moan as she starts to suck, her head bobbing up and down your length.

It's almost too much to bear. The sight of a gorgeous woman on her knees, worshipping a cock, this is the stuff of every man's fantasies. You tangle your fingers in her hair, guiding her movements as she takes you deeper.

"That's it, baby," You groan, your voice strained with pleasure. "Suck my cock just like that. Fuck, you're so good at this."

Yeji looks up at you, her eyes watering slightly as she takes you to the back of her throat. She relaxes her jaw, letting you slide even deeper, until you feel the head of your cock bumping against the entrance to her throat.

You let out a guttural moan, your hips thrusting forward involuntarily. "Jesus, Yeji," You gasp, your fingers tightening in her hair. "You're amazing."

Yeji moans around your cock, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your body. She bobs her head faster, taking you deeper into her throat with each downward motion. Her tongue swirls around the sensitive head of your cock, teasing the slit and lapping up the pre-cum that leaks from the tip.

"Mmmph... mmmm..." she hums, the sound muffled by your thick shaft stretching her lips.

Your head falls back, your eyes closing as you lose yourself in the incredible sensations. Yeji's mouth is pure heaven, hot, wet and perfect. You can feel your orgasm building, your balls tightening as she works you closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, Yeji," you pant, your hips thrusting shallowly as you fight the urge to cum. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum..."

She pulls off with a lewd pop, her hand stroking your shaft as she looks up at you with hooded eyes. "Do it," she urges, her voice husky with desire. "Cum for me, I want to taste it."

With a guttural groan, you let go, your cock pulsing as you shoot your load into her waiting mouth. She moans in delight, her tongue lapping at your shaft as she swallows every last drop of your cum.

You almost sag down to the floor, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Yeji stands up, licking her lips as she savors the taste of you.

"That was incredible," she purrs, pressing herself against you. "But we're not done yet, are we?"

You shake your head, "Not even close," You growl, your voice rough with desire. You can feel your shaft hardening again, rising to attention as if begging for more of Yeji's touch.

"You're insatiable," she teases, her hand wrapping around your thick length and giving it a squeeze. You hiss in pleasure, your hips bucking into her touch.

"Only for you," you pant, your hands gripping her hips tightly. "I want to fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling me for days."

Yeji's eyes darken with lust, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Then what are you waiting for?" she purrs, turning around and bending over a nearby crate. She looks back at you over her shoulder, her skirt flipped up to reveal her perfect, round ass. "Take me, make me yours."

You don't need to be told twice. You step forward, your cock throbbing with anticipation as you lined up behind her. You rub the head of your shaft through her wet folds, coating it in her arousal.

"Fuck, you're so wet," You groan, your fingers digging into her hips. "I can't wait to be inside you."

With that, you thrust forward, burying yourself to the hilt in her tight heat. You both cry out at the sudden intrusion, your bodies joining as one. You pause for a moment, savoring the feeling of her walls clenching around you.

"God, you feel amazing," You pant, your hips starting to move. "So tight, so perfect."

Yeji moans, pushing back against you, urging you to go deeper, harder. And you comply, your hips snapping forward as you begin to fuck the married woman with abandon. The storage room echoes with the lewd sounds of your coupling, the slap of skin on skin, the creaking of the crate.

"Yes.. yes.. yes..!" Yeji cries out, her fingers scrabbling on the rough wood. "Harder! Fuck me harder!"

"Shhh, be quiet Yeji," The faint voice of the priest on the mic reminded where we are right now, but you obliged her request, your thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. You lean over her, your chest pressed against her back as you piston in and out of her sopping wet cunt.

"Take it, Yeji," You growl in her ear, your hand snaking around to rub her clit. "Take my cock like you were made for it."

Yeji cries out, her body shaking with pleasure as you pound into her. "Yes, just like that!" she moans, her fingers digging into the wood of the crate. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

You can feel her getting closer, her pussy clenching around your cock like a vice. You redouble your efforts, your hips slapping against her ass with each powerful thrust. Your fingers work her clit, rubbing it in tight circles as you bring her closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby," you pant, your own orgasm building in your core. "Cum for me. Cum on my cock."

With a keening wail, Yeji's body goes rigid, her pussy spasming around your shaft as she cums hard.

You didn't slow down, not even for a second. You fucked Yeji even harder as she came, your hips slamming into hers with bruising force. You could feel her pussy clenching and fluttering around your cock, trying to milk you dry, and it felt fucking incredible.

The storage room was hot and stuffy, the air heavy with the scent of sex. The world outside faded as you continued fucking the married woman. You aware how taboo and sinful it is, to fucking a married woman in a church, but you didn't care. All you cared about was the feeling of Yeji's tight cunt gripping you, the way she moaned and writhed beneath you.

You angled your hips, hitting that spot inside her that made her seeing stars. "Fuck, Yeji," You gasped, your balls drawing up tight. "You feel so fucking good."

You could feel your second release is barreling down, your cock throbbing and twitching inside her. But you held back, determined to make her cum again before you let yourself go.

Your fingers finding her clit again, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. "Come on, baby," You urged, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your own orgasm. "Give me another one. Cum all over my cock like a good slut you are."

Yeji's body trembles under your touch, her pussy clenching and unclenching around your throbbing cock as you play with her clit. "Oh my god," she moans, her voice high and breathy. "I'm... I'm gonna... oh fuck!"

Her words dissolve into a wordless cry of ecstasy as she comes again, her pussy gushing around your shaft. You followed behind her, with a guttural groan you let go, your hips slamming into hers one last time as you bury yourself as deep as possible inside her.

"Fuck, Yeji!" You cursed, your cock pulsing as you fill her with your seed. "Take it all, baby. Take my cum."

Yeji's body goes limp, her forehead resting on the crate as she tries to catch her breath. You collapse on top of her, your cock softening, still buried deep inside her. Your chest heaving as you try to regain your breath.

After a moment, you pull out, watching as your combined fluids drips out of her well-fucked hole. You scoop some up with your fingers, bringing it to her lips. "Taste us," You murmur, your voice husky with satisfaction.

Yeji parts her lips, sucking your fingers into her mouth and licking them clean. "Mmm," she purrs, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "We taste good together."

You smile, leaning in to capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You both stay like that for a moment, lost in each other, before reality starts to creep back in.

"We should probably get cleaned up," You murmur reluctantly, pulling away. "Before someone comes looking for us."

You both quickly fix your clothes and clean up any evidence of the tryst. You tuck your semi-hard cock back into your pants, wincing slightly as you do. It's still sensitive from the intense fucking session, the fabric of your pants feels rough against your skin. You zip up, trying to ignore the lingering ache in your balls.

Yeji smooths down her skirt and blouse, running her fingers through her hair to tame the wild strands. She looks flushed and satisfied, a secret smile playing on her lips.

"That was amazing," she murmurs, her voice low and husky. "I can't believe we're just having sex on church."

You grin, pulling her close for one last kiss. "Believe it, baby. And that was fucking incredible."

You both take a moment to catches breath, your hearts racing as you come down from the high of illicit encounter. "We should probably get back before they start to wonder where we went," You say reluctantly. "You go first, remember to look around first, I'll go after a few minutes".

Yeji nods, giving you one last heated glance before slipping out of the storage room. You wait a beat, your heart pounding in your chest as you listen for any signs of movement outside.

When you're sure the coast is clear, you step out into the empty hallway, your senses on high alert.

You slip back into the main sanctuary, you make your way to your seat, trying to act casual as you sit down again next to Yeji. She's engrossed in conversation with her husband and daughter, seemingly unaffected by what just happened between the both of you.

You glance towards church altar, realizing that the sermon is almost over. The priest is wrapping up his final points, preparing for the closing prayer. You try to focus on his words, but your mind keeps drifting back to the feel of Yeji's body, the taste of her on my tongue. You sneak a glance at Yeji, wondering if she's feeling the same way, are she's thinking about you as much as you thinking about her.

But she's all smiles and laughter with her family, the picture of the perfect wife and mother. No one would ever guess that just moments ago, she was on her knees in a storage room, worshipping another man's cock like it was her reason for living.

The thought of it sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to bite back a groan. As the congregation rises for the final prayer, you bow your head, your eyes squeezed shut. But you're not praying for forgiveness or redemption. You're praying for another chance, another opportunity to get lost in Yeji's body, to forget about everything else except the feel of her skin against yours.

It's a dangerous game you're playing, you know that. But you can't seem to stop yourself. Yeji has gotten under your skin, and you don't think the tryst memory you have with her in the storage room will going away easily.

The sermon ends and the congregation begins to disperse, chatting amongst themselves as they file out of the pews. You hang back, watching as Yeji gathers up her daughter and husband, leading them towards the exit.

You hesitate for a moment, torn between following her and keeping your distance. But the magnetic pull of her body, the memory of her taste on your tongue, is too strong to resist. You fall into step behind them, keeping a discreet distance as you follow them out into the bright sunlight.

As they reach the parking lot, Yeji turns to her husband, exchanging a quick kiss before ushering their daughter into the backseat of their car. You watch as she slides into the front seat, her husband climbing in beside her.

Just before he closes the door, Yeji glances up, her eyes locking with yours. For a moment, you see a flash of heat, of unspoken promise, before she looks away, her expression once again the picture of wifely devotion.

The car pulls out of the lot, and you're left standing there, your heart racing, your mind reeling with the possibilities of what might happen next.

[cdragons]

"My Girl" - Robb Stark x Forest Fairy!Reader Drabble

A/N: This goes out to my girl, @dipperscavern! She needed a pick-me-up after the Tumblr app decided to be a bitch and delete her draft!!! But she still pressed on and wrote an incredible Robb Stark smut drabble! Pls go check it out!

"Please, Jon," Robb pleaded. "Just for today, and I'll make it up to you."

"Your mother will kill me if she finds out," Jon groaned. Normally, he'd be more than happy to cover for his brother, but what he was asking for was too much - even for him. "She hates me enough as it is."

"She doesn't hate you," Robb winced at the lie, but he was desperate. "Please, I have to see her."

"Why can't you see her tomorrow?" asked his half-brother. "The hunt is tomorrow anyway, you can just sneak away to see her then."

Robb shook his head. "You know how she feels about hunts. The moment the horn blows, she'll scatter far away, and I won't be able to see her for a week! A week - that's too long!"

Jon stared at his brother in complete disbelief at his dramatics. It was hard to believe that the first son of Ned Stark, Warden of the North, would be so far gone for a girl who lived so deep in the forest. A girl who lived a life completely shrouded herself in the mysterious beauty of the ancient woods.

A girl whose allure and grace were of a being so ethereal, she shouldn't exist.

Jon sighed. "Fine, I'll watch over Bran and Rickon by myself today - but if Father asks me, I'm telling him you skipped on your own!"

His brother whispered his shouts to avoid attracting attention from the rest of the keep, but Robb was already on his horse and raced out of the gates before he finished. He couldn't want to see you - his girl, his fairy, his mythic love.

Robb soon reached a part of the forest known to only very few in the North - his father included. The Starks were not only the Wardens of the North but the keeper of its ancient secrets.

Once he rode past the invisible barrier - accessible by those that carry the blood of House Stark - the wintery abode filled with white snow and blue ice melted away to a world of iridescent green trees and a kaleidoscope of colors eternally blooming. He finally saw the red leaves of the ancient weirwood tree whose twin linked your worlds together. Under the magnificent branches, he felt an explosion of love burst inside him at the sight of you.

You - his one and only love - sitting on the gnarled and overgrown roots of your tree. Your feet were bare as you only wore simple white linen dress that hugged your curves beautifully. He saw the flowers and small buds braided into your dark, wavy, umber-brown tresses.

"Fairy!"

Robb called out the nickname he had given you since he first met you in these woods as a child. He felt life flow inside him as he watched you turn around and saw the bright smile spread across your face. As soon as he was close enough, he slowed his steed to stop before jumping off and racing to the ancient tree where you and him would rendezvous in secret.

"Robb!" you called out. You waved in excitement before lightly jogging forward to meet him halfway.

Robb immediately took you in his arms and held you in a tight embrace. He pressed his nose into your locks and breathed in the lavender and wild grass notes. He felt time slow down until it seemed like the whole world stopped. Robb knew such a thing was impossible, but he thought many things were impossible before meeting you.

You slightly nudged him away until his face slightly hovered above yours. On your tiptoes, until they dug into the soft dirt beneath you, you firmly pressed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your mortal lover gladly reciprocated and tightened his arms around your waist until your chests were firmly pressed against each other.

When you finally parted for air, Robb lovingly stared at how beautifully flushed your cheeks became. He watched in a lust-ridden gaze at how your fingers swiftly undid the ties in front of your dress. He felt his breath stop as the garment pooled at your feet. Your body was completely bare and unclothed, and your skin was unmarred and looked silky-soft. You took his hand and held it at your breast - he could feel how fast and hard your heart was beating.

He wondered if you even knew how much of his breath you took away.

"I want to feel you, my love," you whispered. "Just us, under our tree, where only the witnesses of our love are our gods."

Robb choked back a groan. If he felt his cock growing hard at the sight of your skin, your words made his cock weep for your wet walls.

Gods, he loved you so much - how could he refuse?

Hurriedly, he took off his cloak and laid it down on the ground before removing his clothes with your help; Robb was just as bare and naked as you were. You gasped at the sight of him.

How could one man be so beautiful? How did such beauty become possible? How blessed were you to receive his love?

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and your lips parted to grant his access to fully devour you. When it felt like you would collapse from the lack of air, his lips trailed down your neck. You heard him murmur against your skin.

"I love you."

He repeated it over and over again, and your breathing became heavier as he continued to trail down. On the tops of your breasts, he deeply breathed the addictive perfume of your skin and began to lay kisses within the valley. His gentle hands roamed and caressed your skin with so much tenderness as his fingers reached that soaked spot between your plush thighs. He slowly slid his fingers inside you, and he growled at how much your slick arousal coated his calloused fingers.

You, on the other hand, felt completely lost in the sea of pleasure Robb was drowning you in. He was gentle. He always was with you, but today...it felt like he was the one who would completely fall apart without you.

Despite you were in full knowledge that it was truly the opposite.

Because for all of his Northern roughness, he was a man who loved with all his heart. He was utterly loyal to those he loved and cherished—a sentiment he shared especially with you, and you could not have been more grateful.

"I want to be here with you," he softly mumbled. "I could never want for anything else if I lived the rest of my life here, with you and our children. You, my pretty fairy, as the mother of my children, and me, your loyal wolf, forever protecting you."

He felt your core clench at his words as hot pleasure shot up your spine. It was a dream the two of you often shared - a life without obligations or duty, no fussy mothers or pushy fathers to stand in your way, and no empty and bleak futures looming over you. A life where it was just the two of you, riding through your forest with your horses, the woods filled with the laughter of your children. And when the day ended, the night would be filled with endless pleasure as your thoughts would only be full of him and his full of you.

You tenderly stroked the curls from his face as you felt the dam holding your pleasure slowly breaking.

Your chest was heaving. "It will, my sweet wolf," you promised. "Ours is a love no one can take away—the gods have shown it to me. After all, our gods are the ones who brought us together in the first place."

It was not long until you completely fell apart and gushed over his fingers. Your back arched as you coated your inner thighs and his fingers with your slick. Robb huskily chuckled as he pressed kisses down your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. Your fingers intertwine with his lovely, auburn curls in an attempt to anchor yourself to this material plane.

"Lie down," he softly ordered. "I won't take you against the harsh bark of a tree."

"Oh, but on your cloak in the dirt is an acceptable alternative?" you teased despite lowering against the soft, dark furs of your lover's fine cloak.

He smirks at your mirth as he crawls toward you. His perfect form hovering over you as if you were prey and he was about to devour you whole.

"Of course," he confirmed. "After all, I plan to take you on it until the only word you know how to say is my name, and the furs soak up all of your cum until it's all I can smell on it until the end of time."

Biting your bottom lip in anticipation, you could hardly wait for him to make good on his promise.

Robb aligns his cock at your entrance, its head red and its tip leaking with precum, as he slowly pushes inside you as wraps his hand in yours. He was only halfway inside you before he fully pushed himself in and completely bottomed out.

You cried as white, hot pleasure shot up your spine and flooded every nerve in your body. You felt so full and could hardly wrap your head around the fact that you and Robb's bodies were joined together as one.

"Fuckin'- fuck," he gasps out. "How is it you're so tight every time I take you?"

"Because I'm yours, Robb," you answered breathlessly. "My body was made for you as yours was made for me. Such pleasures could only exist between us - us and no one else."

Feeling the pool of pleasure in his stomach overflowing at your words, Robb begins to slowly thrust - in and out - until he reaches a steady rhythm that makes you senselessly babble as you feel your body becoming dull to everything but Robb. You felt every slow drag of his hips, every lingering trail of his touch, every hot breath on your skin, and you wondered how one man could make you feel so good.

He hits that spot inside you—the one that makes you see stars that only he could reach. Your eyes roll back, and you beg him to kiss you. A wish he complies without question—because what is his purpose if not to grant your every wish in his power?

It isn't long until he feels your walls clenching around his cock, and he can feel his control quickly slipping.

"Fairy, my fairy," he pleads against your lips. "'m close, 'm cumming."

"In-inside, my love," you beg. "I want you to spill your seed inside me. Let it take root in my womb, and our child grow."

Your grip on his hand tightens as your love's thrusts become quicker and sloppy, and he hits that spot inside you even more harshly and roughly. You scream as your walls clamp down on his member as your arousal spills out and coats his cock. He quickly follows after you, pushing himself as deep as he can to fill your womb with his seed as a groan resonates deep within his chest.

Despite the exhaustion flooding his muscles, Robb does not collapse atop you or pull out. Instead, he presses a soft kiss on your sweaty temple and lies by your side. He holds you close and breathily chuckles at how close to sleep you look in his arms. He places a small peck on your nose and smiles at how it scrunches so adorably.

"Rest now, my love. I'll be here when you wake."

You let out a loud yawn. "Good...believe it or not, this isn't what I had planned for us."

"Oh? And what were we supposed to do before you...distracted me?"

Robb raises his brow before smirking at the memory of how you initiated seducing him. You swatted his arm.

"My mare successfully gave birth to a foal. He's so beautiful - a red and white coat. I already love him."

"Have you named him?"

"Yes, Kodak."

Robb wanted to ask why you decided to name him that of all things, but you were burrowed in his chest - already in a deep sleep. With a content smile, he followed suit and met you in a dream. A beautiful dream where it was just you, him, your children, and 'Kodak.' All of you laughing and smiling in your beloved woods.

Underneath the weirwood tree, you and he met all those years ago - when you were still a sprite, and he was still a boy. Underneath the weirwood where Robb saw you for the first time, and he swore to the Old Gods and New that he would love only you for the rest of his life.

A promise he swore then, a promise he still keeps, and a promise that remains true until his last breath.

@dipperscavern, if you've died from an overload of fluff and love delulu fantasies...then I've done my job

[dxrlingluv]

Bound for Eternity

A/N : Imagine if someone draws my writings to life. Imagine……… Anyway! I had to redo this like 7 times because it keeps on saying error whenever I put it to drafts. Hermes art belongs to Zieru from YT! Heart divider credits to @cafekitsune. Thank you for requesting this, Nisha!

WARNING : Fem!Princess!Reader, angst with happy ending(?), friends to ???, bad father.

Word count : 2.5k

Princess Y/N was a vision, a beacon of strength and grace that shone even brighter under the weight of her royal duties. Hermes had seen many beautiful beings in his travels across realms, goddesses and nymphs whose allure was undeniable. But Y/N was different.

She possessed a fire that captivated him, a fierce determination that resonated with his own restless spirit. He was drawn to her not just by her beauty, but by the quiet power she held, the way she carried the weight of her kingdom with such dignity.

He pursued her, in his own chaotic yet charming way. He'd appear in her court with gifts – a shimmering scarf woven from captured starlight, a melody plucked from the lyre of Apollo himself – each offering a testament to his growing infatuation. He'd try to make her laugh with his witty banter, to steal a moment of her time amidst her endless responsibilities.

But Y/N was a princess, bound by duty. Her kingdom was a prize, and suitors came from afar, their intentions as polished as their armor. Powerful dukes with vast lands, charming princes with promises of alliances, and wealthy merchants with coffers overflowing with gold – they all sought her hand, their eyes fixed on the power she represented.

The pressure mounted, culminating in a grand ball where Y/N was expected to choose a husband. It was a gilded cage, a beautiful spectacle masking a heartbreaking decision. Hermes watched from the periphery, his usual confidence replaced by a gnawing anxiety. He saw the strain in Y/N's eyes, the forced smiles, the way her spirit seemed to dim under the weight of expectation.

He tried to express his feelings, weaving them into songs he performed at court, hoping she would hear the truth in the lyrics, a truth veiled in metaphor and melody. But Y/N, ever gracious, ever composed, would simply offer a polite smile, her gaze filled with a distant sadness that mirrored his own.

The night of the ball was a cruel spectacle. Y/N, adorned in a gown that shimmered like captured moonlight, moved through the throng of suitors like a marionette, her every step dictated by duty. Hermes, disguised as a humble bard, watched her from the shadows, his heart ached with a love that felt both boundless and utterly hopeless.

He saw the way the suitors looked at her, not with love, but with calculation, their eyes gleaming with ambition, and hearts filled with desire that makes his skin crawl from anger. He heard their empty promises, their boasts of power and wealth, and a wave of despair washed over him. He was a god, capable of moving between worlds, of bending time to his will, yet he was powerless to change her fate.

As the night wore on, the gilded cage tightened around Y/N. The King, her father, beamed with pride as powerful alliances were offered, vast dowries discussed. Y/N felt like a prize, a commodity to be traded, her own desires and dreams irrelevant.

In a stolen moment, she found herself in a quiet corner of the ballroom, the music and laughter a distant hum. Hermes, abandoning his disguise, appeared before her, his face etched with a pain that mirrored her own.

"Y/N," he said, his voice raw with emotion, "I can't bear to watch this. To see you forced into a loveless marriage, your spirit crushed under the weight of duty..."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes filled with a sadness that pierced him to the core. "What choice do I have, Hermes?" she whispered, her voice barely audible above the music. "My kingdom needs this alliance. My people need the security these marriages offer."

"But what about you, Y/N?" Hermes pleaded, his voice cracking with a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. "What about your happiness? Your heart?"

He stepped closer, his gaze searching hers, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. "Every time I see you smile at those suitors, a smile that doesn't reach your eyes, it tears me apart. Every time I hear them speak of you as if you were a possession, a prize to be won, it feels like a knife twisting in my gut. I know I'm a god, and you're a princess, and there are worlds between us, but Y/N, I love you. More than words can say."

The music of the grand ball swirled around them, a cruel counterpoint to the turmoil in their hearts. Y/N, trapped between the gilded cage of her duty and the wild freedom offered by Hermes's love, felt as though she were being torn in two. His words, filled with such raw emotion, such desperate longing, resonated with a part of her soul she had long since buried beneath layers of royal expectation.

He had spoken of love, of a life beyond the confines of her kingdom, a life where she could choose her own destiny. And a part of her, the deepest, most secret part, yearned for that life with an intensity that frightened her. To be free, to be with Hermes... it was a dream more intoxicating than any ambrosia.

But the weight of her crown, the fate of her people, pressed down on her with an unyielding force. She was not just a princess; she was the linchpin of her kingdom's stability, the key to alliances that would ensure its prosperity and safety. To abandon her duty, to choose her own happiness over the well-being of her people... it was unthinkable.

Tears streamed down her face, a torrent of grief and despair. She reached out to touch Hermes, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin, the strength of his jaw. It was a touch of longing, a silent farewell.

"No, Hermes," she whispered, her voice choked with sobs. "I can't. You ask the impossible of me. I cannot simply abandon my people, my kingdom. I am bound by oaths, by responsibilities that I cannot break."

Her words were like shards of ice, each one piercing Hermes's heart. He stared at her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and agony. "But Y/N..." he pleaded, his voice hoarse with pain. "There has to be another way. We can find a solution, a compromise..."

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling faster now. "There is no other way," she said, her voice firm, though her heart was shattering with every word. "My duty is clear. My path is set. And you... you must leave, Hermes. You must go away. Forever."

The words hung in the air between them, a death sentence to their love. Y/N felt as though she had just ripped her own heart out of her chest and offered it to him, bleeding and broken. The pain of saying those words, of condemning herself to a loveless future, was a physical ache, a wound that felt deeper and more irreparable than any mortal injury.

Hermes recoiled as if struck. His face, moments before filled with such desperate hope, now crumpled with a grief that mirrored her own. His eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were now dark pools of despair. He stared at her, searching for any flicker of hope, any sign that she didn't mean what she said. But all he saw was the unwavering resolve in her gaze, the heartbreaking certainty of her decision.

"Forever?" he whispered, the word a broken plea. "You want me to... to forget you? To erase you from my heart?"

Y/N turned away, unable to bear the pain in his eyes. "It's for the best," she said, her voice muffled by her tears. "For both of us. You are a god, Hermes. Your life stretches out before you, an eternity of possibilities. I am a mortal, bound to this kingdom, to this duty. We cannot be together. It was a beautiful dream, but it was just that... a dream."

She felt as though she were dying inside, withering away with every syllable. To tell Hermes, the god who had shown her such tenderness and passion, to leave her life forever, was an act of self-inflicted cruelty. But she believed, with a chilling certainty, that it was the only way. The only way to protect her kingdom, the only way to fulfill her duty, the only way to prevent a love that could never be from tearing both their worlds apart.

Hermes stood there for a long moment, the silence between them heavy with unspoken grief. He looked at Y/N, at the princess he loved more than words could say, and saw not the radiant beauty that had first captivated him, but a woman trapped, a prisoner of her own responsibilities. And he knew, with a heart-wrenching certainty, that he had lost her.

Without a word, he turned and vanished. Not with his usual flash of speed and light, but slowly, painfully, as if each step tore a piece of his soul away. He left Y/N alone in the shadows, the echoes of her cruel words ringing in her ears, the weight of her decision crushing her spirit.

Y/N stood there for what felt like an eternity, the tears streaming down her face blurring her vision. She wanted to call him back, to beg him to stay, to tell him that she didn't mean it. But the words remained trapped in her throat, choked by duty and despair. She had sacrificed her happiness, her heart's desire, for the sake of her kingdom, and the price was a loneliness that stretched out before her like an endless desert.

Time passed, each day a slow, agonizing march for both Hermes and Y/N.

Hermes, despite his divine nature, found himself unable to simply move on. The memory of Y/N's tear-streaked face, the echo of her heartbreaking words, haunted him. He wandered through Olympus with a heavy heart, his usual energy and playful spirit dimmed. He neglected his duties, his laughter was absent from the halls, and even the other gods noticed the change in him. He was a shadow of his former self, a god in mourning for a love he believed he had lost forever.

Y/N, on the other hand, was living a life that was a beautiful lie. She fulfilled her royal duties with grace and composure, attended to her people's needs, and even smiled at her suitors. But inside, she was withering. The vibrant princess who had once captivated Hermes was now a pale reflection, her laughter forced, her eyes filled with a perpetual sadness. She had made her choice, the "right" choice, but it had cost her everything.

The kingdom prospered under her rule, alliances were forged, and peace reigned. But Y/N found no joy in her achievements. Every success was a reminder of what she had sacrificed. She would often find herself in the quiet corners of the palace, gazing at the stars, wondering if Hermes was looking at the same stars, if he ever thought of her.

One evening, as Y/N stood on her balcony, the cool night air caressing her face, a familiar melody drifted towards her. It was a song Hermes used to sing to her, a song of longing and devotion, a song that spoke of a love that transcended worlds.

Her heart leaped with a desperate hope. Could it be? Was he here?

Following the sound, she found herself in the royal gardens, bathed in the soft glow of the moon. And there he was, Hermes, standing beneath the ancient olive tree, his lyre in his hands, his face filled with a mixture of sadness and a fierce determination.

Y/N rushed towards him, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hermes!" she cried, her voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy.

Hermes lowered his lyre, his eyes widening as he saw her. He looked different. Still achingly handsome, but there was a depth to his gaze now, a maturity that had been forged in sorrow.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You... you came."

"You came back," Y/N corrected, her tears flowing freely now, but tears of happiness. "I thought I would never see you again. I thought I had lost you forever."

Hermes stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup her face. "I could never stay away," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I tried, Y/N. I tried to forget you, to move on. But you are in my heart, in my soul. I belong with you."

Y/N threw herself into his arms, holding him tight, burying her face in his chest. "Oh, Hermes," she sobbed, "I've missed you so much. Every day has been an eternity without you. I was wrong. I was so wrong to let you go."

Hermes held her close, stroking her hair, his own tears mingling with hers. "I know," he murmured. "I know the burden you carry, the weight of your duty. But Y/N, you don't have to carry it alone. And you don't have to sacrifice your happiness for the sake of your kingdom."

He pulled away slightly, his gaze searching hers. "I've been talking to the other gods," he said, a hint of his old mischievous spark returning to his eyes. "And I've been doing some... negotiating."

Y/N looked at him, her expression a mixture of confusion and hope. "Negotiating?"

Hermes grinned, a genuine, heartfelt grin that lit up his face. "I've found a way, Y/N. A way for you to be both a princess and to be with me. It won't be easy, and it will require some... changes. But it's possible, thanks to my father."

He explained his plan, a daring, audacious plan that involved a complex web of alliances, a renegotiation of ancient pacts, and a little bit of divine intervention. He had convinced the other gods that true happiness, true love, was worth fighting for, even if it meant bending the rules a little.

Y/N listened, her eyes widening with each revelation. It was a plan that defied tradition, that challenged the very foundations of her world. But it was also a plan that offered her everything she had ever dreamed of: the chance to rule her kingdom with wisdom and compassion, and the chance to be with the man she loved.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

wicked game

chapter 2 - kappa tau

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

cw: mentions of drugs and alcohol, language

"how are you feeling?" sarah asked as you were doing the finishing touches of your makeup.

"nervous." you replied.

sarah smiled, leaning against the doorframe as she watched you. “totally normal. first frat party jitters. it’s a rite of passage.”

you set your lip gloss down, exhaling. “it’s just… not really my scene, you know? loud music, drunk people, chaos.”

sarah grinned. “oh, it’s definitely all of those things. but that’s the fun of it! you don’t have to be the life of the party, just survive it. and hey, i’ll be right there with you. and i'll introduce you to cleo and kie who you will love.

you met her eyes in the mirror, appreciating how quickly she had taken you under her wing. “thanks, sarah.”

she smiled. “anytime. now, come on, let’s go. you look beautiful.”

with one last deep breath, you grabbed your phone and followed her out the door, the bass of the party already faintly thumping in the distance.

sarah linked her arm with yours as you walked. “okay, quick rundown. frat parties can be a lot. idiotic men, screaming girls, a lot of drunk conversations. but as long as you stick with me, you’ll be fine.”

you nodded, nerves still fluttering. “and cleo and kie? they’re your friends?”

sarah beamed. “yep! they’re the best. i knew them from home. you’re gonna love them. cleo takes no shit, and kie’s the most chill person ever. they’ll have your back.”

that made you feel better. you weren’t exactly shy, but stepping into a house full of strangers, loud music, and whatever else frat parties entailed? that was way out of your comfort zone.

as you approached the kappa tau house, the scene was exactly what you’d expected. just like the movies. people spilling onto the lawn, red solo cups in nearly everyone’s hands, music so loud you could feel the beat in your chest. the air smelled like beer, cologne, and the faintest hint of weed.

sarah squeezed your arm. “welcome to kappa tau y/n.” she then waved dramatically. “there they are!”

two girls turned and grinned when they saw sarah. “about damn time. we were starting to think you bailed.”

“as if i'd miss this,” sarah scoffed before turning to you. "guys, this is y/n, my roommate and our new favourite person.”

“hey, it's so nice to meet you! i'm kie." she said, pulling you into a welcoming hug.

"and i'm cleo." she smiled, "so first frat party?"

you sighed. “that obvious?”

“oh, yeah,” she teased. “but don’t worry, we’ll keep you alive.”

before you could say anything else, a loud voice cut through the crowd.

“ladies!”

you turned just in time to see two guys approaching. one was tall and tan with a cocky grin. the other, a blonde with wild hair and an even wilder energy, practically vibrating with excitement.

“finally!” the blonde boy threw an arm around sarah's shoulder. “we were wondering when you’d grace us with your presence.”

the first boy gave you a curious look before glancing at sarah. “new roommate?”

sarah beamed. “yep. y/n, meet john b and jj.”

“nice to meet you,” john b said with a friendly smile.

jj, however, wiggled his eyebrows. “very nice to meet you.”

kie smacked his arm. “behave.”

jj put a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “i am always on my best behaviour.”

cleo snorted. “that’s the biggest lie i've ever heard.”

sarah rolled her eyes, then turned back to you. “okay, now that the introductions are done, can we please go inside?"

you hesitated for half a second before nodding. “let’s do it.”

kie grinned. “that’s the spirit.”

you piled in together, letting the party swallow you whole. you took a deep breath, scanning the room. it was overwhelming, but there was an undeniable energy to it. you let yourself feel excited.

cleo nudged you playfully. “come on, let’s get drinks. it’s, like, step one of surviving a night like this.”

you nodded, "alright. let's get started.

a/n: i promise rafe will come in soon...

🏷️: @heartzshiftamy @hoefordrewstarkey @luvrclub @yesterdaysproblemm @leleee3 @yktayy9669 @miumiuestmoi @anacamofficial @cokewithcameron @bloodofadoll @shorttandsweett @mysticbby2009 @emmiesummers @wintercrows @drewrry @starkeyxcameron @xxbirkindoll2 @stoned-writer @drewstarkeyslover @hannieskzzz @verycherryblossomhideout @letstryagaintomorrow @@jjsbbg7 @mariamadison6-blog @laniirackssss @xeneasworld @countryclubwhore @drewsphswife @mattyskies @moonywhisp3rs @starkeygirls @lmaolmaos @thereallifebambi @emeloyy @vcnillafairy @rafecameronswhoore @st8rkey @angeldiaryy @therealfairybatman @drewsephrry @vanessa-rafesgirl @dreamybabbyy @pogueprincesa @happy-mushrooms @hannaa20002000 

[purplereina11]

New Signing, New Beginning Part 6

Mia Larsen was Barcelonas new summer signing

Alexia Putellas is a club legend who just can't seem to talk to her

Mia slowly began to wake up behind her eyes, she didn’t want to start the day, her body was achy and felt heavy. When her eyes opened they found Nala asleep beside her and it came back to her like a wave that she was in Alexia’s home, her eyes moved and Alexia was curled up on the bed half way down the bed asleep. Mia swallowed as she moved ever so slightly and Alexia’s eyes jolted awake, she composed herself unaware she was being watched before her eyes rose. “..Bon Dia” her voice was husky of a morning, her eyes slightly puffy. “You kept coughing in your sleep. I came to check on you. I must of fell asleep” she answered Mia’s questioning gaze

“Bon dia” Mia simply said with a soft smile. “How cute is your morning voice” Mia stretched moving more onto her back to see Alexia better, “You look really uncomfortable like that”

“It’s surprisingly more comfy than you think” Alexia yawned running a hand down her face, before checking her watch for the time, she looked utterly disgusted at the time it was showing her 6 am, before getting up lifting the duvet and getting back into bed snuggling down.

“Not a morning person huh?” Mia giggled when a hand came over and just covered her mouth, she took hold of the wrist looked at the time on Alexia’s watch before shoving it back at her, “I get the message Capitana”

It was 6am after all Mia would happily go back to sleep. The next time Mia woke up Alexia was there beside her watching her sleep a warm smile on her lips, with a look that sent chills up her spine.

“Why?” She questioned with a little breathy laugh, wondering why she was staring at her

“You’re just so beautiful” Alexia reached a hand out to touch her cheek ever so softly, her body slid over behind it. “I’ve thought about kissing you every day since that day” Mia swallowed as Alexia leaned closer, she didn’t move, she was actually going let it happen. Part of her was expecting Mapi to burst in again but when she didn't and Alexia’s lips connected with hers. She felt alive. Mia’s hands moved to cup Alexia’s face as their lips moved in perfect synchronicity. It was slow, Alexia's lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing Mia's tongue to slip inside, Mias heartbeat quickening, her breath following suit.

Alexia’s hand travelled to her waist silently encouraging her to lay back with a gentle push, when Mia complied Alexia slipped on top of her. The touch the movement it was all tender but filled with a rumbling excitement of what may come next. Neither seemed to want to end there moment there.

Infact Alexia removed her lips to have them wander down to her neck, Mia dutifully lifting her chin to give her better access. Mias breathing delayed, it was heavy the way her chest moved up and down feeling Alexia's tongue against her neck.

Mia let a wry smile grace her lips as her back arched and the emotions it was all evoking the main over riding one however was how turned on she was. How none of this felt enough to quell the burning desire in her, her breath caught in her throat the pit of her stomach laced with butterflies as Alexia’s fingertips found the bare skin on her stomach.

“Touch me” Mia whispered before she even realised she said the words her body and unconscious leading the charge her mind to hazy from the way she felt from the heaviness of Alexia’s body on top of her. “Tócame” she tried in Spanish when the touched never came, Alexia’s lips travelled back up to Mia’s, her tongue making an entrance as her fingers pushed under the waist band of yesterdays joggers she was still wearing. They hovered just there, as if waiting for Mia to come to her senses and change her mind but when she didn't and her moved in an attempt to get her moving. Alexia complied.

Mia’s body felt sensitive eager yearning to be touched and as Alexia gently grazed her body jolted. A breath left her lips one she hadn’t known she was holding, as Alexia’s movements quickened so did Mia’s breath to match. A sign of the pleasure she was going through.

Everything was building the intensity the pace she was climbing that metaphorical mountain incredibly quickly eager to throw herself off when reaching the top wanting the ecstasy. Wanting her body to feel the pleasure created by her captain.

Alexia’s fingers dipped into her, a low throaty noise escaped Mia and her body jolted awake.

Mia bolted upright as she was aggressively pulled from her dream, she sat in the dark her breathing rapid she swallowed as there was movement beside her.

A very sleepy Alexia moved to roll over, confused by what was happening “What’s wrong?” She asked sitting Mia seemingly unable to catch her breath, her hand carefully placed on her back as she sat up shifting over to be closer, “Mia?” She asked lowly her head dipping to try and see her face for a clue of what was happening.

Mia unable to talk her body feeling the after effects of her vivid dream of her captain, she couldn’t look her in the eye, couldn’t slow her breathing. She swallowed and managed to say, “I’m ok” Alexia’s gentle touch a gesture to help but she didn’t know it wasn’t settling the electricity running through Mia at all.

Alexia removed the duvet from herself, “I’ll go get you some water”

Mia tried to compose herself as Alexia’s feet plodded around the bed, she put her head in her hands trying to shake herself bring herself back down to earth.

“Here” Alexia spoke softly

“Gracias” Mia spoke taking it from her taking a little sip as Alexia moved back around the bed.

“Nightmare?” She asked softly

Mia gulped some more water before laying back placing the water on the side table. She exhaled softly, “Something like that”

She lay on her back aware Alexia was now lay facing her, she could feel the concern across the dark space. “Go back to sleep if you can.. got a few hours yet”

Mia hummed her eyes closing, she felt herself wishing she was told how beautiful she was and her dream to become a reality but slumber sucked her back before it gave Alexia a chance.

+

Mia woke later that morning, no Nala, no Alexia. She was all alone. She let her self come to for a moment before she heard the soft murmurings of the television, she slowly peeled herself from the bed, she looked her self over in the mirror, she rubbed her hands down her face to what affect she didn’t know. She let out a silent yawn as she pulled the bedroom door open took a breathe and stepped out and headed towards the sound, having no recollection of any of Alexia’s apartment, she sure hoped it wasn’t Alexia’s bedroom beyond this door. When she softly opened it to spot Alexia wandering around her kitchen doing such a mundane job of putting dishes away.

“Bon Dia” Mia spoke softly to not start Alexia who looked almost instantly.

“.. Bon Dia Mia” She matched Mia’s tone, “How are you feeling?”

Mia pulled the sleeves of the hoodie she was still wearing over her hands, a sign she was feeling nervous, “A lot better.. thank you” Mia lowered her head when she felt little paws on her shins, “Bon Dia Nala” Mia bent over to give her fluffy head a ruffle

“Do you want anything to eat or anything?”

Mia stood up straight again, “Um, no thank you. I, should probably get out your hair, I’ve overstayed my welcome already” Mia had spotted it was gone mid-day on the cooker clock

Alexia smiled, “You haven’t, not one minute, but I’ll take you home”

“You don’t have to do that”

Alexia rose her eyes, “La Capitana”

“You can’t always use that”

“No.. sometimes I use La Reina”

“You’re so annoying” Mia laughed gently

+

Mia was out with the Barcelona girls for drinks that evening and everything had changed seemingly as easy as turning a light switch with Alexia. She’d found herself beside Alexia who hadn’t spoken a word to her all evening, it was the most awkward few hours she’d endured seemingly only going to get worse as people who Mia didn’t know were arriving. They seemed to save Alexia from the awkwardness of the girls all disappearing into thin air leaving the two alone in the booth, but just made her awkwardness all the more apparent. With a sigh she slipped out the booth aimlessly walking away, she had no where to go with no sight of anyone she knew, all she knew was she just couldn’t be there any longer. She spotted Jana Fernandez going to her asking where the bathroom was to give her something to do, Jana with her usual bright smile pointed it out to her and off she went.

She spent the most time she could humanly possible in the bathroom the only time she’s been thankful for a queue when she’d walked into a public bathroom, she came out the door the base of the music hitting her again and the warmth of all the bodies when a face smiled at her offering her hand, “Hola. My names-“

Mia smiled shaking the hand, “I know who you are” Olga Carmona stood before her. “You scored the winning goal in the World Cup crushing all my hopes and dreams” Mia smiled at her with a hint of a joke

Olga was a little bashful, she glanced to the bar, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’d love a drink”

“How you finding Barcelona?” Olga asked as they reached the bar, Mia leant on the bar before turning her head to the defender

“The club or city?”

“Depending which I choose will I get a different answer?”

Mia just smiled, “Barcelona isn’t London, it’s quieter, slower pace, nicer weather, I’m enjoying it”

“And the club?” Olga turned her body towards Mia, “Could I convince you to come to Madrid?”

“Oh so that is what this drink is all about?”

Olga shook her head, “Not at all. Can’t I buy a pretty girl a drink without a motive?”

Mia narrowed her eyes playfully with a smile, “You obviously don’t go out in London ever” Mia smiled, “I’ll have a beer” Mia spoke as Olga was served, Mia looked to where the Barcelona girls were all now back at the booth and not one had seemed to notice she wasn’t there. She put on a smile when the bottle was handed to her and it wasn’t all that long until the smile became genuine. She enjoyed talking to Olga she was a nice girl. At least she was paying her some attention, they went and found a little table to go sit down on, after being bumped into at the bar one too many times.

“Can I ask you a question?” Mia nodded as her beer bottle was against her lips, “Why is Alexia staring at me like she wants to kill me?”

Mia swallowed the liquid, “That’s probably more aimed at me than you, she doesn’t like me very much”

“Really?” Olga asked, “That’s hard to believe, Alexia likes everyone”

“Can I ask you a question?” Mia shifted in her chair, “At any point this evening, have you seen her talk to me?”

Olga seemed to think about it before shaking her head her body showing the defeat, “Oh.. maybe she’ll do all the work for me then in driving you to come to Madrid”

Mia laughed softly, “Never say never I guess. I said I’d never leave Arsenal yet here I am”

Olga’s lips quirked, held her own beer bottle up and Mia shared in the smile as she clinked her bottle towards her, “I should probably go back to my friends”

“Yeah.. not that I even think any of them have noticed I’m not even there”

Olga and Mia got to there feet, “We never leave a man behind at Madrid”

Mia laughed her index finger coming out the side of her bottle, “Stop”

“Say the word and I’ll talk to Toril” Mia gave her a look before walking away back towards the booth the girls had secured earlier on in the evening.

Patri put her arms up seeing Mia finally emerge through the crowd, “There she is! Where have you been?”

Mia removed her eyes from those of Alexia’s who seemingly locked to hers the moment she approached like homing missiles, they weren’t the kind eyes of yesterday, “Bar” she held her beer up for proof

Patri leant over the table the beer placed in front of where Mia had been sitting waiting for her handing it to her, “Now you have two”

Alexia leant on the table, “Mia” she called over the table, Mia didn’t get butterflies when Alexia said her name this time, her sister here with a friend both recoiled slightly at the tone of Alexia’s voice towards the striker, “What did Carmona want?”

Mia finished the beer Olga bought her, making eye contact with Alexia as she placed the empty bottle on the table, “A chat” the tone and shortness of Mia’s response caught a few others attention.

“Soy tu Capitan” Alexia said motioning to herself, “I asked-“

“In football” Mia interrupted, Keira moved away from Patri and Claudia nearing Mia, “You’re my captain on the pitch, not off it. That conversation isn’t your business”

Alba sensing the sudden animosity and tension heightened by the alcohol consumed touched her elder sisters leg, “Come on Ale, she does have a point”

Alexia either didn’t hear her sister or chose to not hear her, “You can’t speak to her”

Mia recoiled her head her eyes showing her distain at the comment, she managed to quell the rage she felt otherwise the next few moments would of panned out very differently, “At least she bothered to speak to me, you have the cheek to sit there and tell me who I can and cannot talk to when you’ve not said a word to me all night”

Ingrid nudged Mapi in the side when she was visibly enjoying Mia biting back, “Mia” Keira said touching her back

“No, I’ve had enough. You one day act like the sweetest person I’ve ever met then the next you’re a complete dick for no apparent reason. I clearly do something that pisses you off but instead of addressing it with me you act like a petulant child and throw a tantrum and give me the silent treatment. I feel like I can never win with you, I work so hard just to get, you should have done that better. I don’t need your validation Capitana I know I’m damn fucking good at what I do but just once, it wouldn’t hurt you to just say nothing, you don’t have to nit pick. You could just stay the fuck silent and leave me alone, lets just agree we don’t get on and only talk on the pitch about football if we have something constructive or nice to say” Mia held eye contact with Alexia who sat her demeanour unreadable, no one had ever gone back at Alexia like that before. To be fair no one had ever needed to she didn’t speak to them the way she spoke to Mia.

Alexia took a breath as Mia turned to go, “Where are you going?”

“Oh lo siento su alteza real” Mapi slid down in her chair at Mia addressing Alexia as her royal highness, her hand covered her mouth hiding her amusement when Mia mockingly bowed at her before walking away finding Olga at table football game with a couple of her teammates in town for the game in a few days.

“Did you just bow at Alexia?” Olga looked at her with a smirk

“Don’t ask” she bit putting her beer down with an aggressive thud

“Be my second?” Olga moved over a bit pointing, “Misa, Athenea” Mia nodded at them as they started playing, “What happened?”

“Think I’ve just secured my self a permanent place on the bench for the next 2 years” it wasn’t long until Mia’s sour mood was gone and she was laughing with the Madrid girls oblivious to the Barcelona girls conversation, all she knew is not one of them had come after her.

Alexia watched her leave and her body ran cold, “Can we go home?” She asked Alba

“No” Alexia looked to her little sister, “Why did you speak to her like that? I’ve never ever heard you talk to anyone like that?”

“I just want to go home” Alexia urged again, unfortunately for Alexia, Alba was just as stubborn and wasn’t letting Alexia ruin her night so they stayed.

Keira was the first to approach Mia, Mia looked to her as she stopped by her, “I’ll apologise to her tomorrow”

“Wasn’t why I came over” Mia looked to Alexia who wasn’t participating, the conversation going on around her, she seemed sad. Mia hated herself that it bothered her, her eyes moved to Keiras. “Everything you said was valid, I just fear in the morning you may regret it because thats out your system” Keira pointed to the beer. “I’ve known you a long time, you never bite”

Mia took a breathe patting Olga’s back slapping the two others hands taking her beer and walking away with Keira, “I can’t handle any more games Keira, I’ve had enough games to last a lifetime.”

“What did you mean by the sweetest person you’ve ever met?”

Mia licked her lips, “I didn’t have my granddad pick me up. Alexia insisted I stay at her place” Keiras brows furrowed, “I didn’t argue it, didn’t have the energy to. Got to her place and I went straight to sleep in her spare room. I woke up and she was curled up at the end asleep.. I was coughing in my sleep, she was worried so stayed” Keira took a step back

“Sorry, now you’ve lost me, what the actual fuck?”

“It gets worse” Mia took a breathe, “This was 6 in the morning, so she got in the bed”

“Oh my god you slept with her”

“Not quite” Mia took a swig of her beer, “I can only describe what happened as I had a wet dream about her” Keiras mouth dropped, “Woke up out of breathe I couldn’t catch my breath, which woke her up and she got me a glass of water” Keira began laughing

She waved her hand, “I’m not laughing”

“Seems it” Mia rolled her eyes, “Then she let me sleep until nearly half 12 at her place before taking me home… then six or seven hours later I come here she doesn’t say a word to me and then that happens. It happens all the time, she’s so sweet with me, then she flips. I’m not doing it anymore, I’m done trying to win her around it’s just a thankless task at this point” Mia felt herself get upset, “I don’t know what it is about me that seems to piss her off so bad when she seemingly has the time of day for everyone else”

“Don’t get upset”

“I’m not I’m just drunk” The girls laughed together, Keira giving her a hug.

“Look, I promised Leah I would love you like she does, I’m not good at any of this you can ask Leah, she always went to you for the soppy stuff but I am here you know.”

Mia gave Keira a squeeze as they hugged but not loosening, “Thank you”

“Just promise me one thing”

“What?”

“Don’t date Olga”

Mia tittered as they pulled apart, “It’s not like that, she’s trying to get me to Madrid”

Keira pointed in her face, “You dare” Mia smiled at the bigger reaction to her leaving the club instead of getting into yet another seemingly messy relationship, you couldn't date some one from your arch rivals. That was just asking for trouble.

“At least I know the captain likes me” Mia held her arm when Keira smacked it, “OW!” Mia exclaimed

“Does Alexia know about your dream?”

“Fucking hope not”

Alexia would always dance so when she refused she was left behind, Alba wasn’t missing out because of a situation her sister caused. She was left behind to wallow in her own self pity, like she was on the naughty step Mateo had suggested not that many days prior. Alexia eyes naturally scanned for Mia with nothing else to do or occupy her time, she found her soon enough, she was stood beside Patri, Misa opposite. She’d known Misa for many years, she could tell from here she was flirting, Mia had one arm over her chest the hand resting on her bicep beer in hand head tilted at what ever Misa was saying to her. When she couldn’t hack anymore she busied herself on her phone, but as much as she hated what she was seeing she couldn’t stop chancing looks. Just to see. Not that she wanted to see. But she did in the same breath. It bothered her how ok Mia seemed with the whole situation, when Alexia felt torn apart by it. Little did Alexia know how well verse Mia was at burying her emotions into a little box in the back of her brain to unpack later when she was back in the safety of her own company.

+

Mia actively avoided Alexia over the next few days training session, she avoided the time she knew Alexia would arrive, she avoided the canteen during the times she knew Alexia had her breakfast, she would be dressed and already out on the pitch when Alexia came to get dressed for training. There chemistry on the grass didn’t falter however, they as always were where the other needed them to be to finish the chance, knowing the others next move before seemingly they did. It was exciting times for the coaching staff and team seeing the link up, and when you threw Patri Aitana and Keira into the duo it was being a fierce looking midfield and forward partnership.

Mia came down the tunnel the Estadi Olímpic the home of todays El Classico, she was gutted to not be starting but she understood. She never expected to start this game, it was the El Classico after all. But she held space for the words she was telling herself this was Alexia’s doing for her outburst. She was walking along the team to go take her seat with Pina someone she was rapidly getting closer with since it was apparent she was the only one who knew of her relationship with Patri. Mia laughed at something Pina said and disappeared out of Alexia’s view. Panos leant forward to talk into Alexia’s ear, “Do we know why she isn’t starting?” Alexia simply shrugged

“I did say to Pere I think we need her”

Mia was a wreck on the bench as it reached the hour mark and Barcelona were on track to loose there first ever El Classico, they were two nil down and just not creating enough chances. Mia put her hand out, “They keep going down the right, but Real are leaving so much space on the left because Olga is sitting so high”

One of the tacticians turned to her, and she thought that meant shut up, “No keep talking, you’re not seeing it how we are” Mia sat forward and spoke to him pointing out to the pitch and motioning, Pere turned watching Mia and the tactician in deep conversation with his set piece papers and white board. The two men shared a look, Pere having been routed to the front of his technical area retreated, Pina joined in the conversation and the four plotted.

“We’re making a sub, get Salma off, Mia you’re on get ready”

Mia came up the few steps out the dug out and as she took off jogging and headed to the changing room to get ready the fans that noticed all cheered excitedly anticipating her coming on.

Mia jogged onto the field with seemingly a lot of instructions, Aitana and Patri were the recipients, they asked a couple of clarification questions before they disbursed and the message reached the whole team before Real Madrid took there throw in. The first five minutes Mia was on was exciting the girls were linking up better the chances were coming more frequently, it seemed like they were back to the effortless Barcelona. A goal seemed more hopeful.

The crowd lifted when Mapi played a ball over the top Mia showing her speed went chasing after, the audible gasp when she controlled it with perfection before cutting in to strike with her right foot slicing it with force into the back of the net. She followed the ball in picking up and carried on running up the pitch ball under her arm as the fans were cheering the come back was on. She slapped the hands of her teammates on her way past dropped the ball near the centre circle leaping into Mapi’s awaiting arms fist bumping the air letting herself celebrate the goal.

“Mia” she looked as she came back to be in position for the restart, she got the smallest of smiles from Alexia and a thumbs up. Mia wanted more than that, she wanted Alexia to run up to her that massive smile on her face and wrap her arms around her in celebration like she had before. Mia simply nodded the once before moving when the whistle blew.

On the 80th minute Alexia played one of her signature passes through past the back line Mia timing her run to perfection, she took one touch before letting rip and what was quickly becoming signature Mia in Liga F it nestled in the top corner, no keeper was ever getting to it. Mia spun on her heels to go run to Alexia she didn’t think about it, it was a natural instinct as she ran at her full smile Alexia matched it, seemingly both forgetting all about the tensions as Mia leapt into her outstretched arms being held aloft before coming down to celebrate with the team in the usual group hug. They’d clawed back the draw, it gave the crowd and them the belief, they could go on to win this now.

Alexia was on the charge she was one on one with the keeper, she could easily make that shot even as two defenders closed in on her, but she squared it to Mia open on the left just along for the ride knowing damn well this was Alexia's goal. Seeing the ball coming towards her however immediately she panicked, it was a sitter and Misa was right of the goal, the left side of the goal wide open. It was a tap in. One she knew she just couldn’t miss when Alexia seemed to gift her this. Getting the winning goal in the 92nd minute and her hat trick. Alexia handed her the moment the hat trick and possibly an olive branch.

Mia knew she needed to apologise to her eventually for her outburst, she shouldn’t have spoken to her captain the way she did in front of her team. She shouldn’t have spoken to Alexia like that at all let alone in front of their friends. She did feel guilty but her stubborn side felt she’d made a valid point and Alexia being the captain as she loved to point out should approach her. And the longer Alexia left it, the harder it became for either of them to make that first step to even began to fix the tension.

Mia was emotionally and physically exhausted after the game, the team wasn’t making any effort to leave the pitch wanting to bask in the atmosphere and feelings that were still there from the buzz of the game. Mia sat alone on the pitch just trying to process what just happened, she smiled as Mateo pushed his way through her legs to stand there between them, it was like Mateo could sense her sadness and he was seemingly making it his mission to make her smile and laugh. Mateo wiped her tears she up til now seemingly hid incredibly well, Mia opened her arms and Mateo fell into her chest her arms coming around him.

In the locker room the party continued, Mia was happy in the moment, basking in her team revelling in her success becoming Barcelonas golden girl. She joined in the dancing and celebrating. No one noticed how her eyes weren’t sparkling. Her smile wasn’t reaching her eyes. Her laugh wasn't genuinely.

One person noticed however, and surprisingly it wasn’t Keira.

It was Alexia

Part 7

[yandere-wishes]

Can't get this thought out of my head!! It's been driving me crazy all night~🌸

Sorry this is so utterly random, but I can't stop thinking about how similar Poison Ivy is to Venus Mcflytrap!! Like yeah I know it's so obvious but it's never occurred to me before.

So I propose this...

Reader who has powers like Venus: Plant mimicry, Chlorokinesis, and has the mind control pollen (guess that makes her like Ivy too).

Reader who has vines growing on her arms and legs that have thorns and roses, reader who just wants to be like her mentor/adopted mother and save the planet from the horrendous humans running it, reader whose hero name is either Flytrap or Blood-Rose (or maybe Ivy has two side kicks who knows)

Now imagine a batboy, I'm thinking either Tim or Jason fall in love with her.

If it's Jason then the reader obviously has a more punk aesthetic, her words and actions are harsh but her heart is made of pure gold. She loudly protests on the streets, vandalizes anything that she deems a hazard to the earth, and isn't afraid of throwing punches when face to face with the defilers of the earth (literally anyone, I'm thinking she would start fights for stepping on flowers, breaking tree branches, mistreating animals even, oh and def littering.) and this is all as a civilian. As a rouge she's unhinged, she lacks her mentor's grace, she goes in monster veins swinging. Ready to break skulls. Maybe she really is more monstrous compared to Ivy who uses seduction as her greatest assist. Reader instead has venus flytraps sprouting from her shoulders/back that she uses as weapons. Her veins and flytraps have given Jason more broken bones than he'd like to admit. Yet somehow he's always sad when the cartilage heels, almost as if it's scrubbing off all traces of her.

If it's Tim then reader is more of a mad scientist, she's always locked up in her room. Coming up with new plants that she finds stunning, and everyone else finds utterly terrifying!! She makes her mother proud by making new planets capable of taking back the earth and planting them where they can do the most harm. Her creations have literally wrecked skyscrapers. I'm thinking she would have roses and thorns sprouting from all over her body. Definitely a bit insecure. Since she's always hidden away. When Tim is tasked with hunting down whoever is behind the new

killer plant attacks. He tracks her to Ivy's hideout. Que a "meet cute" where Tim is trying to bring her to justice and reader is trying to kill him. But she's not good at fighting, she does however end up drawing blood with her thorns!! When it's over Tim has destroyed her lab and new creations and finally gone home. He finds he can't get her out of his head! He thinks it's the pollen, maybe because of her pricking him...but turns out he's really falling in love.

The third option is my favorite trope that I've never really written about (it's coming up in the Catfam series too) but Yandere! Bruce Wayne/Batman falling in love with his rogue's sidekick. Under the pretense of "saving them". He'd end up kidnapping her locking her away in the manner. Ultimate princess treatment only catch is she's tied up and He's found a way to shut off her powers!! 💞💋💞💋💞 utterly obsessed with unhinged Bruce!! Trying to play hero but also so psychotically in love!!

Now because I'm me I have to add in a fourth option of Harvey Dent. I remember shipping him and Ivy as a kid (yes my perspective of love was screwed up even then) So maybe Ivy's little helper developed a crush on Big Bad Harv, one the Harvey wants to use to get back at Ivy with. But her puppy dog crush is so endearing that both sides of him start to get addicted!! She finds him so so beautiful, adores both sides of him. She even decorates his half and half apartment with flowers. Cuter brighter flowers on Harvey's side (sunflowers, orange blossom, sakura) and darker "creepier" things for Harv (Flyraps, black dahlia, thorn veins).

Should I just throw in one for Damian too? Like, remember that one comic where Ivy creates planet children? Maybe she does that and Reader is born. Obviously, she has accelerated growth and the same values and obsessions as her "mother". She's created her to be the ultimate savior to carry on her legacy and succeed. There is so much of her Damian can relate to, so much about her that pricks at his heart when he sees her blooming under the sun. 🥺💋🥺💋. Ivy would totally call her "my sapling" or "my little bloom". Damian hears the nicknames and repeats them much to the reader's surprise and disgust.

Is this anything??