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

[seramilla]

I assume you've seen this meme before but Sera has never kissed anyone and Carmilla is expecting to kiss with tongue

Sera never imagined anyone would be interested in her. Next in line to be High Seraphim, the elders had hand-picked her to be the example to which every other angel must aspire. She has big shoes to fill, and spends hours upon hours every day in prayer, penitence, and deep study. Learning the duties of her station and how to protect the Winners who will one day be under her care.

She will be in charge of every human soul one day. She literally has no time for relationships. It comes as such a surprise, then, when a young Dominion angel, Carmilla, takes a unique interest in her.

Sera doesn't have a lot of time for herself. So any waking moment she can steal away to be with her thoughts, she will take it. To Heaven's gardens, a quiet hilltop away from the hustle and bustle of the city, or a musty, dusty museum of Enochian literature that no one else bothers to visit except the really holy and devout.

And another young angel. One about her age, or maybe a little older. Taking one book off the shelf, flipping through it rapidly, before returning it to its resting place, and grabbing yet another, rinsing and repeating the cycle. Her back is to Sera initially, but when the other angel turns to face a bookshelf closer to her, and Sera can better see her features, a blush like a field of wheat erupts across her face.

The other angel is, putting it bluntly, the most beautiful creature Sera has ever seen. Long hair, dark lashes, wings huge and healthy and strong, like that of a warrior. Yet her legs and dainty stance are that of a dancer. Even the way she moves -- book in one hand, subtly twirling and miming graceful steps as she reads, as if she's practicing something from within the texts -- exudes a discipline and grace the likes of which Sera has never witnessed before.

It would be inept for Sera to compare her to a bird. All angels are bird-like. But this woman in particular...she seems to fly across the floor as easily as in the air, silent and never missing a step, despite having all her attention on the book.

"Dios mío!" the other angel vents in frustration. "Is there nothing in here but the basics? Where are the advanced steps?"

Well, that confirms it, Sera thinks. This woman is a dancer. A quite adept one, at that. As if there were any doubt.

Sera's about to open her mouth. She knows this library like the back of her hand. She could step in, offer to help the other woman. She knows where all the advanced books are on dance, music, song, the gospels, everything a sentient mind could fathom. She is in her element. The forebearer of knowledge. She can be useful, for once!

She might have done that, anyhow, if the shelf she'd been leaning on, while she'd been staring in rapt attention at this young woman and paying no mind about where she put her weight, starts to teeter precariously. Sera screeches, trying to catch it, but only manages to fall onto the floor, flat on her face.

The other woman in the room jumps and turns around, just in time to see the shelf topple onto the floor, scattering ancient books and tomes every which way. A winter shower of loose pages falls all around them like snow.

Sera is on the floor, the evidence of her failure on display every which way she looks. Her gaze is stuck to the ground, golden blush spreading down to her shoulders and beck. The woman can probably see the gleam of it through her robes, it's so bright.

How did this happen? How could she be so stupid? This woman must take her for an idiot, a clumsy oaf, a useless--!

Suddenly, a hand appears in her peripheral vision. Sera looks up, and the woman is standing before her, bent down to help her to her feet. Her proffered hand is large and strong. With long fingers, calluses, and scars, like she's been training recently. There are small bandages on some of her fingers. Sera can't stop staring at them.

"Are you all right?" the woman asks. "That was quite a tumble."

There is no inkling of judgement or amusement in the other woman's features. Just concern, and a warm smile that, once again, Sera has to really struggle to draw her attention away from.

"Oh, Heaven. Oh, goodness. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for this to happen! I'm such a fool!"

Sera takes the offered hand. It's warm. Tender. Rough, but soft, in all the right ways. There is so much strength hidden beneath, in the way she squeezes Sera's fingers as she pulls her up, but most of it is constrained. So perfect and poised, just like she thought she'd be. She helps Sera get steady again on her feet.

"I'm Carmilla, by the way," the woman says, beaming at her. "And you are?"

Sera stares. Carmilla. Wha a wonderful...beautiful...inspiring name. It's like a note of pure music in her hindbrain.

It's so...befitting of her.

"I'm...Sera."

"Good to meet you, Sera. Now, let's see if we can set this mess to rights."

It doesn't take long. Especially not with Carmilla's strength. For every handful of books that Sera can carry in her arms, Carmilla can hold twice as many. Since Sera knows this library practically by heart, she takes on the task of gathering and organizing the books. Carmilla single-handedly sets the bookshelf upright again, and quickly puts the books that Sera has cataloged back onto the shelf in the proper order.

It takes them maybe 20 minutes...30 minutes, tops. By the time the large clock in the main square chimes the noon hour, the shelf and books are back in their rightful places. Anyone who enters would be none the wiser, that this room had looked like a disaster zone just a few moments prior.

Carmilla pokes Sera in the side playfully, giving her a knowing glance. No one else will know...but they will know. Just this thought alone makes Sera blush again. But Carmilla is smiling, in a genuine, only slightly teasing way, so that gives Sera strength enough to smile too.

"Thank you for your assistance, Carmilla," Sera says, rubbing her hands against her arms sheepishly, like she's cold. "Truly. I could have gotten into so much trouble if you hadn't stepped in."

"De nada, Sera," Carmilla says, turning to face her. Carmilla looks so noble...so chivalrous standing there. It leaves Sera speechless. Her body heats at their proximity. She's so close, she could reach out and touch her.

"Anything for a cosita linda such as yourself."

Sera's brows turn down in confusion. This woman has such an unusual manner of speaking. With all her study of languages, one would think she'd be familiar with it. Would it be uncouth of her to just...?

"I'm sorry, Carmilla. Forgive me. I don't...I'm not certain what you're saying."

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say...or the right thing. Sera is very much unsure. Because all of a sudden, Carmilla is moving closer. Much more than before. She's a fair deal shorter than Sera, but still, Sera finds herself stepping backward, until she's crowded against the shelf again, bumping into it, and her heart jumps in fear that it may fall again.

It doesn't. Thank Heaven. But at this point, she has other things on her mind, because Carmilla has invaded her space. Not in an overbearing way, but she is so overwhelmingly, deliciously close. She stands on tiptoe, leaning toward Sera's face. The Seraphim's mouth is open, lips quavering in a silent tremble, trying to find words but unable to locate any that might be useful. Carmilla studies her mouth, a warm smile never leaving her features.

"It means beautiful woman," Carmilla whispers, leaning closer, breath ghosting again Sera's. "Which you are. Has anyone ever told you that, Sera?"

Oh lord. Oh Heaven. The way she says Sera's name. Accentuating the "S". Rolling the "R" on her tongue, like she's playing with it. Like she looks like she wants to play with Sera's mouth right about now. A whine starts in the back of Sera's throat. She struggles to keep it down.

"Oh--oh!" Sera says, feigning composure. She has none of it. If Carmilla's body weren't so near, holding her against the bookshelf, she would crumble onto the cold marble floor in a heap. "I--I'm--Thank--Um--!"

"Can I kiss you?"

Oh. Oh this...

Sera spontaneously combusts. There is no other word to describe it. Her face, her body, everything inside her erupts in gold. This is not where she'd been expecting this encounter to go. Carmilla is beautiful, certainly, but she had looked so poised. So distant. So unassuming. Never in 10 million years would she have expected this. This situation has reached critical mass.

Of course, Carmilla can. But should she? Should Sera let her? They literally just met. Do normal people kiss complete strangers so quickly? Are they strangers, if they know each other's names? Maybe this isn't safe. Carmilla could tear her apart if she wanted to, with her bare hands. Sera doesn't know what she's capable of. Oh, Heaven, don't think that way! Honestly, that is starting to sound appealing too...

"Yes!" Sera replies. Short, curt, and to the point. The word pops out of her mouth, without her permission. Too late to take it back now.

Carmilla obliges. All too eagerly. She has to really lean up to reach Sera's lips, bracing one large hand on a shelf and drawing herself up on tiptoe to smash Sera's mouth to hers.

Carmilla's mouth dances against hers. Just as in the way her body moves, Carmilla leads Sera in a mutual back and forth of lips and tongue. Sera is inexperienced and untrained. Has no idea where to put her nose, or which way to turn her head for better access. Carmilla grips the back of her neck, both to hold her in place and guide her angle. Then they slot together so perfectly, Carmilla's breath mixing with hers, and even though Sera's feet are ten toes down, she still feels like she's flying. Nothing on the ground even matters anymore.

Carmilla pulls away. Gives Sera a few moments to catch her breath, and gauge whether what just happened is okay.

Okay? Okay? Sera feels wild. Manic, even. Her chest is heaving, and she's giving Carmilla such a wide, goofy-looking grin, she's almost embarrassed at her lack of decorum. Even though she'd literally been sucking face with this woman a moment ago. All sense of reason is gone. Has left the building.

"Wow. I--I never--Heaven, that was--!"

Sera doesn't get the chance to finish her statement. As soon as she is able to speak again, Carmilla is coming right back in, practically vacuum-sealing her mouth to Sera's once again. Except this time, instead of just playing against her lips, the smaller angel's tongue makes an impromptu invasion of Sera's mouth. Sera squeaks, not un-like a mouse, and accidently shoves Carmilla away from her in panic.

It all happens so fast. Carmilla's still half-way propped up against the shelf, so when Sera pulls away, Carmila's arms pinwheel backward as she starts to fall. Thankfully, Sera catches her, wrapping her arms around Carmilla's back as she descends, like she's dipping her.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Sera screeches. "I didn't expect you to--you didn't tell me you would--I'm sorry!"

Carmilla only looks up at her. Sera is holding her in her arms, like Carmilla is the damsel being dipped during the slow dance. Sera continues apologizing profusely, certain she's made some faux paux, or broken some unbroken rule. She's not used to this. But Carmilla only smiles. She straightens herself, and pats Sera on the cheek affectionately.

"No, I'm sorry. I was too forward. That was my fault. I should have told you, but you were just so..."

Carmilla lets her words hang there a moment, infusing their meaning into the air around them. She'll let Sera come to her own conclusions about what she intended to say. She doesn't want to uncessarily frighten her again.

Sera knows what she meant. Beautiful.

"How about this..." Carmilla suggests. "We do what we should have done, and you let me take you out to dinner sometime? We can talk and get to know each other, before trying tongue again. Sound fair?"

Sera flushes again. For the third...fourth time in a row? Carmilla is so unbelievably out of Sera's league. It's ridiculous she's even giving Sera the time of day. Yet, she stands there, holding her arm out to Sera, as if waiting for a handshake. This person is the most strange...most intriquing...most attractive she's ever met in her life.

Of course she wants to see her again.

Sera shakes her hand. With a light grip at first, but when Carmilla squeezes harder, she giggles, and returns the gesture.

"Yes," Sera says, beaming through all the blushing. That's a good start. "Of course! I would enjoy nothing more!"

[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

[teojira]

Scar x fem! Reader/Rover from Wuthering Waves where Reader is trying to get Yangyang back, and Scar offers to give her back for a kiss from reader 🫦

[What's the harm?] [Scar/reader drabble]

Summary: Scar strikes a deal with you, for both your and Yangyang's freedom. (You are Rover in this!)

Word count: 1k+ (I got POSSESSED)

Pronouns: She/her implied

Warnings: Possibly OOC but the game is 3 days old, have mercy. Slightly nsfw! Scar is down bad. You're Rover in this and you're also down bad.

A/N: I want him so bad, the constant flirting with MC? The way his eyes soften at her? I'm in love with him so bad.

“Where is she?” He's already isolated you for Yangyang, bringing you into his domain.

 It's unnerving, standing alone with a man you've seen cause so much trouble, someone who constantly is trying to get into your head.

The comments he makes, there are so many of them and they just keep coming. 

Is he lying about wanting you? Lying about wanting your trust? Is this just a ploy to get you on his side? 

You're not sure, your brain can't deny that this is a trap, he trapped you, but your brain can't deny that he's looking at you with a soft gaze that you're sure he's never graced another human with. He looks like he simultaneously wants to eat you alive and protect you like he claims.

Scar himself stands a few feet away, arms crossed as his eyes trail along your form, starting from your feet, lingering a bit on your chest until finally meeting your eyes. You swear you can see a twinkle in his eye, and he doesn't even remotely try and hide the way he licks his lips at you, a predator grin making it's way on his handsome face.

“Oh come on Rover, she'll be fine~”

“I'm not doing this with you, give her back.” You steel yourself, hand resting on the scabbard of your sword, ready for him to attack.

To your surprise, he knocks his head back and laughs, shaking his head, the movement jostling his locks. He turns back to you, moving closer, step by step.

“Look at that, that fire in your eye is mesmerizing Rover, you're that concerned with a woman who only wants to use you?” He coos, voice mimicking how an adult talks to a child and you feel small, taking a small step back but the distance still closes, he's not letting you get away.

“Stop. I'm not playing this game with you Scar, let me go and give Yangyang back.” You hate how your voice trembles a bit, hating yourself for his presence having such an effect on you.

“Yangyang This, Yangyang that, what about me my dear? Why don't you say my name like you do hers? With that fondness.” He glowers, finally closing the distance, stepping into your personal bubble and cornering you against a large rock.

“What are you even-” You can't help the flush that rushes to your face, your head dizzy at the proximity. The body heat radiating off of him is jarring, but not as jarring as his smell. He smells of ash and burnt wood, and a mix of his own natural scent and it feels warm and safe. For the first time since you've woken up, you feel protected, despite him being the enemy. The same one who the nation you're supposed to protect hates.

It's so stupid, it's so stupid.

"Say my name.” He's leaning down now, was he always this tall?

“W-” He cuts you off, grabbing your jaw with one hand, squeezing your cheeks ever so slightly, only releasing to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Say it, Rover.” His face is so fucking close, you can feel his breath tickling your face.

"Scar." You breathe out, your head spinning, this is wrong, you shouldn't have let him get this close, you need to get out and find Yangyang, what the fuck are you doing?

"Give me what I want, and I'll let you both go." He murmurs, eyes zeroed in on yours.

His heterochromatic eyes are beautiful already, but the way they're so dilated, barely any of his color is shown.

"I'm not following."

"Just a kiss my dear, just one."

"How do I know you're gonna keep your word?"

"You don't, but I don't think that's gonna stop you." He coos again, moving to trail one of his hands down your back, pushing you closer to his body, your chests both heaving and resting on one another.

He's right, as of right now, there is absolutely nothing that will stop you from this, from giving in just this once.

You lean in first, shutting your eyes tight.

It's Scar who does the rest, crashing into you like a wave, trying to consume you.

He kisses you like you're long lost lovers, pouring so much passion into the kiss that you can't ever hope to return, so when he pushes you up against the rock, you know this'll be a reoccurring occurrence. It's addicting, the feeling of his lips finally on yours, all the tension finally reaching a climax. His tongue is damn near down your throat, swallowing down your moans as much as he could, his hands gripping your hips so hard, you wouldn't be surprised if it left a mark later (a small part of you hope he does).

It takes everything in your power to pull away, but the second you do, he moves to start licking at your neck, you can feel his canines run along a specific patch of skin that makes your legs weak. You place a hand on his chest, trying to gently push him away.and when that doesn't work, you bring your other hand up to run your fingers through his locks and tug him away.

The groan he lets out is downright sinful. He looks up at you, his expression as if he just fucked you within an inch of your life, his hair mussed, his lips glossy from your combined spit.

"Was that good enough?"

"Oh honey, you're lucky I don't take you right here. But I am a man of my word." He hums, licking his lips and letting out a snicker. With a shocking gentleness, he pecks your lips one last time.

"Wake up now."

"Rover! Rover! Are you okay?" Yangyang has your head on her lap, one of her palms on your forehead, feeling the warmth there.

All you can do is groan and bring a hand to your face, covering your cheeks.

"What'd he do to you in there?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[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

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hannibal Lecter X Reader: Us lonely few

Warnings: talk of loneliness, smut, kissing, rough sex, unprotected sex, penetration (p in v), drinking, no use of y/n

Word count: 2,5K

The sound of Ave Maria floats out of Hannibal's office. It makes you hesitate, your hand freezing in mid air. You weren’t supposed to be here at such a late hour but you’d lost track of time. You started working as Hannibal's secretary a month ago. He’d never found himself in need of a secretary but you'd managed to impress him. He enjoyed the way your eyes lit up as he spoke about the mysteries of the mind so he decided to keep you around.

It was nice to have someone nearby. It didn’t matter that you usually remained outside of his office as you worked, just the thought of not being alone seemed to ease Hannibal. He liked your company. You were younger than him but you shared his taste for the finer things in life. Conversation came easy when he was with you. It was almost as if you’d been made for each other.

You knock on the door waiting for a response. When one doesn't come you lean your ear against the wood trying to listen for Hannibal's footsteps. The only sound that fills your ears is music. It’s likely he can’t hear you because of the song. You can barely hear yourself as you call out for him.

“Dr Lecter, I'm coming in.”

As always his door is unlocked. You push it open with ease, momentarily balancing the books you were holding on your hips. You close the door behind you before moving to scan the room, trying to find Hannibal. He has his back turned to you but somehow he still manages to sense your presence. 

“I thought you’d gone home.”

You walk over to his desk placing the books you were holding on it before going towards him. 

“I lost track of time. Your books are very fascinating.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed them but I can't have you staying after hours.”

“You stay after hours.”

Hannibal looks up from his drawing to look at you. You meet his gaze, waiting to see how he’ll react to your comment. He stays serious for a second before smiling at you. 

“I suppose you're right.”

“I usually am.”

You grin at him before turning your attention back to his sketches. You lean over Hannibal's shoulder trying to get a better view. He watches you as you observe his work. He inhales deeply trying to commit your scent to memory. You're oblivious to his actions, far too focused on the drawing before you. It's a nude portrait of a woman. You can’t help but notice the way Hannibal has drawn her. There is a sensuality to the portrait but there is also a loneliness to the woman's expression.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yes she is.”

“Why’s she sad?”

“What makes you think she’s sad?”

“The way you drew her.”

You point to the image carefully so that you won't smudge the pencil.

“She's looking behind herself as if she’s searching for something but the way her arms are wrapped around herself shows she didn’t find what she wanted.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well she’s holding herself isn't she? I mean, she didn’t find someone to hold her so she had to hold onto herself. She’s lonely.”

“ I guess I didn't think about it that way.”

“Art has a way of bringing our feelings to the surface. Even if we ourselves don’t know what we're feeling.”

“Are you insinuating that I'm lonely?”

“Aren’t you?”

Hannibal eyes bore into yours as he thinks. Maybe he was lonely. Maybe that is why, after all these years, he found himself with a secretary even though he didn't particularly need one. 

“It’s okay to feel lonely. It doesn't make you any less strong.”

“Do you feel lonely?”

“I’ve felt alone my whole life. So yeah you could say loneliness is something I'm familiar with.”

Hannibal placed his hand over yours causing you to look at his face. His eyes softened as he took in your features. You were a pretty thing. He’d been so impressed with your mind he often forgot you also had a beauty he hadn't had the pleasure of being graced with in a long time. 

“Do you enjoy filet mignon?”

You let out a laugh at his question, eyes furring in curiosity.

“I do. Why?”

“I’m inviting you to dinner.”

“At your house?”

“Yes.”

“As long as I'm not intruding.”

“Not at all. I enjoy your company.”

Hannibal's house was very him. There were artworks scattered around the rooms and knowledge seemed to seep out of the walls. You removed your shoes and placed them by the door. Hannibal looked at you questioningly. “I don’t want to get your floors dirty.”

“If you feel more comfortable that way, be my guest.”

“You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you. The kitchen is this way.”

You followed Hannibal, eyes moving over every inch of his home you could see. A small gasp left your lips as you walked into the kitchen. You always enjoyed the culinary arts but you’d never had the pleasure of owning a kitchen big enough to explore your talents properly. Hannibal watched you as you moved around the room, a small smile tugging at his lips at your unfiltered fascination.

“I take it you enjoy cooking.”

“I’ve always had a curiosity for it but I'm not very skilled. I won’t die of hunger but I've never made any adventurous recipes. Just the basics you know?”

“Would you like to sous chef?”

“I’d love to.”

“Wonderful. You can start chopping the onions.”

You moved over to him grabbing the knife he handed you before moving to get the onions and a cutting board. Hannibal unbuttoned his shirt sleeve and pushed it up his arms allowing you to see his muscles. Your gaze lingered for a moment before focusing on your task once more. Hannibal moved around the kitchen with ease as he searched for the ingredients he needed. It was almost like a dance. You couldn’t help but watch him as he moved. He seemed so peaceful like this his mind completely focused on the meal he was preparing.

Your eyes started to sting as you continued to chop the onions. You sniffed quietly which caused Hannibal to look up at you. He watched as a single tear fell from your eyes before falling onto the counter. He moved over to you on instinct. You felt a hand on your cheek, turning to face Hannibal at his touch. His thumb moved over your skin, collecting your tears. It was an innocent caress but you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. He pulled his hand away from you, moving his thumb to his lips. He licked at his thumb, removing your tears from his skin. Your heartbeat fastened at the action. 

“Let’s switch tasks dear. Can’t have you crying in my kitchen. You can cut the meat.”

He paused for a moment glancing at the piece of raw meat on the counter before looking back at you.

“Unless it’s too much for you.”

“I’m not afraid of getting my hands a little bloody Hannibal. I’ll be fine.”

He knew you didn’t mean anything but it but his mind couldn’t help but wonder what you were capable of. You seemed like the type of person who knew how to hold their own. Still he wondered how far you’d be willing to go.

Hannibal took over chopping onions as you worked on the main piece of the meal. One he’d finished he moved over to watch you. Your hands moved over the pieces of meat with an unusual softness. Despite that you seemed to be having a hard time figuring out how big the pieces should be. Hannibal sensed your struggle. He moved behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he reached to place his hand over yours. You twisted your head to the side to look at him.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“Not at all dear. But you can cut the medallions a bit larger. Here let me help.”

You relaxed your arm so that Hannibal could maneuver your body in the way he wished. 

“There. That thickness is better.”

You turned to face him once more expecting him to be looking at the meat. Instead you found him staring at you. Your eyes dropped to his lips momentarily. You were so close to him that you could smell his aftershave. A breathy sigh left your mouth the air fanning over his lips. You wanted him to kiss you. His mouth opened but instead of kissing you he spoke.

“Could you set the table for us?”

“Oh. Yeah sure.”

“The silver ware is in the third drawer on the left.”

With that Hannibal unlatched himself from you allowing you to move over to where you needed. You walked over to the dining room. Your hands trembled as you placed the silver ware down. Hannibal's voice rang out from the kitchen.

“You can take a seat. It will be ready soon.” 

“Okay.”

A couple moments later Hannibal walked in with a platter in his hand and a bottle of wine in the other. 

“Do you drink?”

“Occasionally. But I'm not picky.”

“This wine was aged in a maple barrel. It has a sweet taste to it which will go perfectly with the meat.”

“Everything looks delicious.”

“I agree.”

You couldn’t help but notice Hannibal wasn’t looking at the food as he spoke, he was looking at you.

You ate until you couldn’t anymore. Hannibal filled up your cup as soon as you downed the last sip. After you finished dinner the two of you made your way to his living room. You were a little tipsy due to the wine causing you to become unfiltered. You padded against Hannibal's floor, moving to music that only you could hear. He enjoyed watching you like this. You were usually so formal around him it was nice to see you in a more relaxed manner. Hannibal observed you stumble over to his piano, hands toying with the keys before glancing in his direction. 

“Do you play?”

“I do.”

“Will you play for me?”

Hannibal could never deny an audience. He pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on, making his way over to where you stood. He sat down on the bench as you moved to rest your chin on the palm of your hand. Hannibal flexed his fingers, straightening his posture a bit before he began to play. The second his fingers began moving over the keys you became mesmerized. You walked over to the other side of the bench taking a seat beside him. You observed his fingers glide from one key to the other. He made it seem so easy. You closed your eyes, focusing on the sounds. As the song came to an end you slowly opened your eyes, a smile plastered against your face. You looked over at Hannibal only to find him already watching you. 

“That was beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.”

Your eyes softened at Hannibal's words. Your hand moved to cup his cheek. Slowly, you inched your face closer to his until your lips were inches apart. You placed a gentle kiss to his mouth waiting to see how he’d react. When he didn't pull away you kissed him again with a little more strength this time. Hannibal opened his mouth to you. Your tongues moved together as you deepened the kiss. Hannibal's hand wrapped around your hips lifting you up with ease. He placed you on his lap. Your back dug into the keys of the piano as you continued to make out. Hannibal's hands dug into the flesh of your ass causing you to whine. You bit his lip, tugging at it with your teeth as you broke the kiss. Your hands moved over Hannibal's shirt, fingers working on unbuttoning it. He could sense the desperation in your actions. He moved his hand over to your chest tugging at the buttons of your dress shirt. The buttons seemed to be toying with him. He lost his patience. Before you knew it Hannibal had ripped your shirt open. You gasped as he leaned down to kiss the valley of your breasts. 

“Hannibal…”

“What is it?”

“Take me to your bed.”

The soft sheets of Hannibal's bed rubbed against your face as your body moved with his thrusts. Your fingers dug into his pillow as you screamed out his name. There was no mercy in his movements. He was fucking you so hard you were sure you wouldn’t bae able to walk tomorrow. You thought he’d stop after the first round but you’d been wrong. Once you’d gotten tired of riding him he’d flipped you around shoving your face down onto the bed before lifting your ass and continuing to pistol into your.

The bed creaked as he moved, muffling the sounds of your moans. His hands moved against your ass, fingers leaving crescent moon shapes on your skin as he continued to manhandle you. You were squeezing him so much that he was having a hard time moving in and out of you. He reached his hand to your waist lifting you off the bed. Your bare back pressed against his chest. Hannibal licked at your earlobe before biting into it. You let out a yelp causing him to shush you.

“You’re gonna cum for me again.”

“Hannibal i can’t-”

“Yes you can. I know you can.”

He placed kisses against your shoulder blade as one of his hands found their way to your pussy. His thumb found your clit. He grunted as he circled the small bundle of nerves. You panted against him, hands grabbing at his hair to anchor yourself. Your jaw fell slack as your orgasm washed over you. Hannibal stopped supporting your body causing you to fall forward into the bed. His grunts became more constant as he continued to fuck into you. It took a couple thrusts but soon enough he was spilling his seed into you. You heard his groan as he pulled out. You remain unmoving, still trying to recover from your orgasm. Hannibal returned to bed, laying down beside you. He tugged you closer to him. You laid your head on his chest, fingers moving to play with the hairs on his chest. He listened to you breath, his hand moving to caress your hair as he did. 

“You were right.”

“Usually am. But what was I right about exactly?”

“She was lonely.”

You let out an understanding hum, comprehending what he was confessing to you.

“Is she still lonely?”

“No. Not anymore. She found someone to keep her company.”

“I’m glad. I’m sure they were just as lonely as she was.”

“It's a good thing they found each other then.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

The two of you had been crafted by different artists but in your own way you’d been made for each other. If you hadn't been sure of that before you were certain of it now.

[filmsmakkari]

Part of Her World 𓇼

rhaenyra targaryen x mermaid! oc

Summary: A mermaid princess finds the only person who understands her in a princess from another world

Word count: 3.5k

CW: None!

A/N- I use a character name for this because it was easier for me to write but it can still be read as an x reader because that's what I had in mind writing it! I am seriously considering making this a series saurr let me know if you'd be interested!

Above the thrashing, powerful waves of the deep blue sea, a ship headed by a golden dragon cut through the tides like a swordfish. 

Rhaenyra Targaryen's hair blew wildly around her face in wild silver waves as she overlooked the sea from the side of the great ship. She was in the midst of her betrothal tour- a humiliating ritual where she sailed from house to house and offered herself up like a piece of meat to the great lords.  The young princess desperately longed for freedom, and here, during these quiet moments, alone on her ship, she felt that she could get a mere taste of it. At night, when she was meant to be getting the proper amount of beauty rest for a royal princess, she would sneak out and watch the sailors in their evening merriment. Drinking and singing shanties. Life at sea gave them freedom. Total control over their lives and fates. No one was forcing them to dress up like dolls and present themselves to bidders. Rhaenyra truly longed for the same.

As she should, a light sprinkle began to drop from the air. Rhaenyra didn't acknowledge the way the raindrops glazed her face, wishing the sea would swallow her whole.

"You should go inside, princess," the profoundly irritating voice of Ser Criston Cole cut through the soft music of the rain, disrupting Rhaenyra's peace. "I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."

"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," Rhaenyra said, exasperated. "I will not be washed away with the rain."

"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," Ser Criston tried to pull her to her chambers, but she shrugged him off.

"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston?" asked Rhaenyra. "Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways  to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."

"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."

"Yes, for me to remain cooped away in that castle in isolation and fear forever. I can't live like that. I can't explain it. Perhaps it's the blood of the dragon making me restless. But even now, I can't help but feel that there's something here calling to me.

"Princess—" a violent bump abruptly interrupted the white cloak. The knight and the princess both turned. In the distance, they could see a dark cloud highlighted with thunder and lightning.

The captain noticed at the same time. "Storm coming in fast, all hands on deck!" The first mate parroted the message, and the entire ship descended into chaos. Sailors rapidly climbed the mast, desperately cutting the lines, as the first mate rushed to the helm and furiously spun the wheel, attempting to guide the ship away.

"We need a lifeboat for the princess, immediately!" Cole shouted at the deckhands, pulling Rhaenyra by her arm. 

Rhaenyra watched as lightning struck the mast, and fire quickly spread across the deck. Her eyes widened at the catastrophe. Deckhands rapidly cut a lifeboat free, tossing it into the water for the young princess. 

"Hurry, your grace!" Cole attempted to shove Rhaenyra into the boat, but she would not go.

"No! The sailors and my ladies first!" She broke free and ran, shouting like a mad woman for all the men and her ladies in waiting to board the lifeboats themselves. The sailors didn't need to be told twice, and though they attempted to encourage her to join them, she refused, searching for every soul aboard to make sure they'd escape safely. 

"Madeline!" Rhaenyra shouted her lady's name. The small girl was curled up in a corner, holding Rhaenyra's little dog, Meria. 

"Princess!" Madeline yelled, relieved. 

"Come! Quickly come!" Rhaenyra grabbed Madeline and pulled her across the burning deck. Avoiding the masts as they crashed down and the canons as they rolled from side to side. Rhaenyra helped Madeline rise to the rail and jump, the dog still in hand. Rhaenyra watched as the pair hit the sea. The violent waves separated them. While Madeline was quickly pulled aboard a lifeboat, Myria lingered behind, desperately paddling to get to the boat. Rhaenyra panicked, but suddenly, it was like a gravitational force took hold of the dog and pulled her to safety. If it hadn't been a life or death situation, Rhaenrya would have pondered how it happened. However, given the circumstances, she quickly took it upon herself to climb onto the rail. But just as she was about to jump, the entire ship turned on its side, and she fell backward into the black sea.

All she saw was fire. Her lungs filled with water as the sigil of the mighty House Targaryen burned. A flash of purple. And then it all went dark.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Children of the sea do not have tears. It is that fact, perhaps, that separates the merfolk from the humans. Long shimmering tails and siren songspells aside, the simplest divider was that when humans were hurt, they wept. But when the young royal princess of the Carinae Sea, which humans called the Blackwater Bay, was upset, all she could do was swim for hours around her gilded cage of coral and cowrie stone. 

Princess Lerína angrily swam through the seaweed drapes that kept her grotto hidden from all others. Her powerful tail thrust behind her, creating a shining kaleidoscope of purple and blue. As she frustratedly sat down on the large rock on the ocean floor she'd made into her little sofa, her long black hair, a mass of braids and flowing curls decorated with shells and pearls,  cascaded around her head, irritating her further.

"He just doesn't understand, I don't have to see things the way he does!" she said angrily to Flounder, her childhood companion. 

The princess and the little fish had just been scolded by her father, King Oceanus, for spending time on land.

The day had started a happy one. Lerína had managed to escape the watchful eye of Kunle- the crab majordomo her father had assigned to watch after her, met up with Flounder and gone to find Scuttle- her seabird friend- to show him her recent human finds. Her latest favorite was what he called a Dinglehopper, used to create an aesthetically pleasing hairdo. She'd returned to the castle smiling, saying hello to every shark who made up her father's kingsguard and humming sweet songs. However, the day turned sour when Flounder accidentally mentioned to her father, King of The Seven Seas, that she'd been spending time on the surface again. Her father had done what he always did. Yelled, waved around that trident of his, and said that of every problem in the sea, she was his most troublesome. He'd given her the usual reminder that she would soon be married to a noble merman and that her fixation on the human world would not make her a more desirable bride. Bringing up how humans butchered the queen, however, was an unusual low blow. The reminder of her mother's fate sent shivers down Lerína's spine.

Now, as she was sitting in her grotto, the one place she had to herself, she pondered her father's words. Looking around, she took in the beauty of her human treasures: the shimmering little gold coins she'd found in a pouch lost in a kelp forest, the countless books written in a human language she couldn't understand, and the gold sphere with two glass ends that made everything bigger she'd just found that very day. 

Lerína chuckled dryly. "I just don't understand how a world that makes such wonderful things could be so bad. I just wish I could learn more about them. See them dancing, walking around on those… what do you call them?" she asked, gesturing to her fins.

"Feet!" Flounder responded joyfully.

"Oh, right," Lerína smiled. "Up there, they just walk and run wherever they want! Wandering free, without the constant eyes of crab babysitters and shark guards watching their every move. Tides, I wish I could be part of that world." Lerína looked up at the circular opening at the top of her grotto, admiring the colors the rapidly vanishing sun cast onto the ocean surface.

"Well, what would  you do there? If you could," Flounder asked.

Before the young mermaid could respond, she noticed the colors she'd admired just moments before being blocked out. A ship, she thought. She'd never seen one so close. Real live humans, so near that she imagined she could hear their voices through the waves. With the reminder of her impending doom wedding looming over her, Lerína, it occurred to Rhaenyra that this may be her first and last chance to ever see humans up close. 

Father will never know.

"Lerína, I know that look. It's the bad idea look. What are you-" The little fish was abruptly interrupted by a powerful gust created by the sea princess's tail as she rapidly swam for the surface, quite literally chasing her dream. As she grew closer to the surface, she reached out her arm in front of her, desperate to be close to humanity. 

And when she breached, she couldn't believe what she saw.

The ship was smaller than most of the wrecks she'd seen underwater, but it was still the most stunning thing she'd ever seen. The wood was a rich brown, with a golden sharp-toothed creature at the head. Lerína believed the beast to be a dragon. She'd heard stories of dragons as a child. While tails, songspells, and salt ruled the seas, fire, blood, and wings ruled the skies. She'd been told that rulers of the human world chained them up and rode them like seahorses- just another sign of how primitive they were. And at the top, two large black sheets with a three-headed red dragon on them.

Dragons have three heads? Lerína thought. I wonder how humans came to control them.

She swam up close to the ship, admiring the craftsmanship of each groove and hook. 

"Isn't this amazing?" Lerína semi-rhetorically asked. 

"NO! It's terrifying! Let's go home!" said a panicked Flounder.

Lerína shot him a look and continued on, ignoring him calling her.

She swam alongside the ship, coming across what appeared to be another boat tied to the larger ship. Only much, much smaller. She wondered what use humans could possibly have of one that size. As she took it in, she noticed two people conversing. Her heart skipped a beat. She'd never seen them this close. She wanted to get a better look, so she did something perhaps dangerous. Grabbing onto the small boat with both of her hands, she pulled herself inside the contraption, her long tail hanging out of the side.

There was a small hole in the ship's side, and she took a better peak to see the pair more clearly. The man was rather plain-looking, she supposed. Brown hair, a round face, and a strange, metallic, heavy-looking suit. He reminded her of  Tíeres- her father's kingsguard who used to follow her around. Nothing particularly special physically, besides the fact that he had legs rather than fins. But the girl who stood beside him… the very sight of her made Lerína's fins tingle, and her eyes widened with a feeling similar to awe. 

She didn't look like any of the pictures Lerína had found on the seafloor. Her hair was nearly as long as Lerína's, flowing like an ocean wave in beautiful ringlets down her back. Her skin was pale as a pearl, with pink lips like the corals her sister, Calypso, grew in her bedchamber. But the feature that stood out the most, the one that made Lerína's heart flutter, was the eyes. Lerína had never seen eyes like the girl's before. They were a beautiful shade of lavender, pure and bright. Lerína felt like she could see the girl's spirit through her eyes, a gentle yet regal and powerful one. She felt as though she could get lost in those eyes and never return.

Another thing she noticed was that the girl wore a crown. Similar to her own, but instead of rainbow abalone, pearls, and cone shells, the girl's was made out of gold, with three ruby eyed dragons in the middle. Lerína wondered if the girl was some form of a princess on land. Her question was swiftly answered as she heard the man speak.

"You should go inside, princess. I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."

A princess, like me. 

"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," the girl said, and Lerína knew that irritated tone well. It was the very same one she frequently used on Kunle. "I will not be washed away with the rain."

"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," the man said.

"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston? Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways  to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."

"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."

"Yes, for me to remain cooped away in that castle in isolation and fear forever. I can't live like that. I can't explain it. Perhaps it's the blood of the dragon making me restless. But even now, I can't help but feel that there's something here calling to me.

Lerína had never felt more seen or understood by anyone. Her six sisters had all taken to their roles as rulers of their seas with ease. They knew their place in the world and fit into it. Meanwhile Lerína never seemed to get anything right, much to her father's displeasure. They could never see eye to eye, and every stroke of her tail felt like a mistake, a disappointment. She knew what happened to her mother, and yet she always felt like there was room for progress. Contact with humans could help dawn a new era for their people. She felt foolish sometimes for thinking such things. But this girl, a girl from another world, she understood.

Suddenly, the ship, and the little boat in which Lerína sat began to shake violently. A man in a pointy hat ran across the deck, shouting "Storm coming in fast! All hands on deck!"

Suddenly all the humans began to scurry around like a panicked school of fish, tugging on ropes and climbing around. The man in the metal suit pulled the violet eyed girl away- much to Lerína's disappointment. She rose up on her arms to try to get a better glimpse, but the girl was already on the other side of the ship. 

"Lerína, watch out!" Flounder's voice called out. 

Lerína turned to see a group of large rocks right in front of her. She quickly hopped out of the boat and dove into the water, escaping just seconds before the boat was destroyed. She swam around, surfacing again to see the entire ship had descended into chaos. Bright, hot wisps of orange and red were rapidly spreading across the deck, and Lerína realized that this was fire. She had previously thought fire only existed in small boxes in human homes to keep them warm, but this fire was certainly not that. Everywhere the wisps went in their violent dance things broke and shattered. The humans used knives, similar to the stone and shell ones merfolk used, to cut free more boats like the one Lerína had hid in, and quickly jumped overboard into them.

Lerína watched as the land princess helped a brown haired girl, and a furry creature with a tail jump over. The girl was able to make it onto a boat, but the other creature was being pushed back under the waves. Lerína took a risk, diving under the water, grabbing hold of the creature and pushing it towards the boat, dipping under it just before she could be seen by any of the humans. 

She swam back around to the side of the ship, looking for the girl, just barely catching a glimpse of her before the entire ship turned on its side, and the girl fell backwards into the sea. Lerína swam around the front of the ship as quickly as a swordfish, tossing away priceless human items in search of the girl. She was nearly crushed as a statue of a woman came flying at her from the ship, but she narrowly dodged it. She dove down deeper, finally seeing the girl sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss. Lerína swam as fast as she could, quickly taking hold of the girl and bringing her to the surface.

Above the sea, as the waves rocked them back and forth and the burning remains of the ship illuminated the night, Lerína felt a strange sense of calm. She looked down upon the girl in her arms, and she looked so peaceful and beautiful. Lerína's heart fluttered once again. Saving a human would go against everything she had ever been taught. If she ever came in contact with them she was meant to swiftly escape, and in the worst case, use her siren song to kill. As she looked down on the most beautiful face she'd ever seen, Lerína knew what she had to do. 

So she held the girl tighter, and allowed the waves to swallow them whole.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

She had never been this far from Atlantis before. She could feel the dry sand burning her hands and the top of her tail, while the waves caressed her fins back and forth. Her hair was damp against her back, and the land princess was in her arms.

Lerína laid the girl on her back against the sand, immediately leaning against her chest to check for a heartbeat. When she couldn't hear one through the girl's thick, fuzzy red and black garment, Lerína quickly unbuttoned it and pulled it apart, leaving the girl in nothing but a thin gown, which, in its dampened state, made the girl's breasts plainly visible. Lerína's cheeks, for no reason she understood, got hot. She shook the girl a few times, trying to rouse her. Finally, the girl coughed a few times, spitting out seawater. Lerína moved back, preparing to escape before she could be noticed. But when the princess didn't move, Lerína did something foolish. 

Taking a deep breath, Lerína closed her eyes, and began to sing. 

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Rhaenyra didn't know where she was and she didn't know what was going on. Vague memories quickly flashed through her mind. Her tour, talking with Ser Criston, saving her ladies and her friends, and going under the water.

Suddenly, there was a voice. A voice so enchanting it flowed through the mist of her mind like a beacon of pure light. It was like a siren guiding her back home. She could barely open her eyes, only being able to make out a girl with long hair- she couldn't make out the color. From what little she could tell, it wasn't anyone she knew, and yet she felt incredibly safe and trusted her immediately. With what little strength she had, she lifted her hand and placed it above the girl's hand on her chest. But just as she was starting to regain her full vision, voices began to shout and call her name. The girl's hand quickly left her chest, and she vanished on the beach like seafoam. 

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Lerína, hidden behind a large rock, watched as a group of men and women descended down the mountain, all surrounding the girl in a panic. 

"Princess!" "Your grace!" "Rhaenyra," they cried as they gathered around her. 

The man in the metal suit Lerína remembered from the ship lifted the princess in his hands and carried her back up the mountain, the entourage following behind him.

Suddenly, Lerína was overcome with a feeling she could not explain. But somehow she knew, from this moment on, things would never be the same as they were.

I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know something's started right now. Someday, I just know I'll be part of her world.

She watched as the princess was carried over the mountain and disappeared when she realized something—she knew the princess's name.

Rhaenyra, she thought. I'll be part of Rhaenyra's world. 

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

[catssluvr]

maybe for emily you could write where uhmmm reader is a coffee shop worker and emily comes in everyday and theyre both pining over each other?? 🐞

that's such a cute idea!! ty for requesting bug 🤍

𝓰𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼, emily prentiss

emily prentiss x fem!reader

emily has a huge crush on the girl from her favorite coffee shop (you). the problem? you´re gorgeous

warnings: emily picking at her skin :((, r is confident, super fluffy <3

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

"you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong"

Emily rushed down the street, only slowing down when she reached the door of the all too familiar coffee shop. If there was one thing she wasn't eager about was the scowl she would receive from Hotch if she was late for work. Not really looking up when she approached the line of one person ahead of her, focusing on finding her wallet inside her bag.

But as her eyes looked ahead, she felt her breath get caught in her throat, her hearth suddenly beating faster than usual. Usually they would have been met with Grace, the old lady that owned the shop. But this time she was surprised with a new face. A polite smile was plastered on you lips, your hair pulled back by an hair clip, an apron covering your black long sleeve, the gold earrings making you look even more mesmerizing. She didn't even know your name, but there was something about you that made her feel somehow pulled towards you, like you were a magnetic field and she was metal.

"Miss? Are you alright?" Emily hadn't realized she has lost track of her surroundings before your voice sent her back to earth. Ugh- your voice. It was probably the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. Your eyebrows were raised, as if urging her to make her order, the smile never leaving your lips.

"Oh- yeah. Goodmorning, i'd like uh- a black coffee to take, please." She found herself stumbling on her own words, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Handing you the money in her hand, her blush depended as your fingers brushed slightly against hers.

"Alright, i'll be right on it." You said, turning around and working on getting the coffee ready.

Emily found herself fiddling with her fingers as she waited, she wasn't one to get shy or nervous when it came to this type of situation, but it had caught her completely off guard. After all, a pretty girl is a pretty girl.

"There you go...?" You handed her the coffee, waiting for her to reveal her name.

"Emily. Emily Prentiss." She smiled gently, fingers brushing yours once more as she grabbed the coffee from your hands, not really sure if the warmth came from the cup or your gentle hands.

"Emily Prentiss." You repeated, your voice confident as you continued. "Well, see you around... i hope?"

"Yeah, i'm a usual." She replied, slowly walking towards the exit as she realized she was definitely going to be late now, but not really wanting to leave just now.

"I'm glad." You observed, your eyes never leaving hers as Emily left the store.

She rushed to her car, not being able to hold the smile that was threatening to form on her lips. She now had another reason to call that coffee shop her favorite, and she found herself wishing the time would rush to the next morning so she could go back to looking into your eyes and see your sweet smile once more.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

"you're so gorgeous, i can't say anything to your face"

Your expression turned confused as Emily walked through the door of the coffee shop, what appeared to be a cut on the right side of her forehead, you couldn't really tell from the patch that covered most of it.

It wasn't unusual for her to pay a visit to the shop, she had been a client there since your first day of work - which was at least a few months ago by now. Every morning she would walk through the door, ordering her usual black coffee. Truth is you would always look forward for that, throwing a compliment about her outfit or hair. Unfortunately, she always seemed to dismiss it with a shy smile, followed by an awkward chuckle. You would always try to hide the disappointment you felt, really hoping you still had a chance with someone like her. Someone so pretty and nice.

You didn't know as much about her as you wish you did, sometimes she wouldn't show up for days, so you imagined she had a pretty busy life. But you never had the courage to ask, afraid to overstep. After all you were just a random girl who worked at the coffee shop she was a usual at.

But this time it was different, outside the sky was already covered in darkness, streets illuminated by yellow lights. You were getting ready to close off before she walked in.

"Emily? Are you okay?" It was a silly question if you were being honest, she seemed tired and you couldn't help but stare at the patch on her forehead. She was obviously not okay, idiot.

"Yeah, don't worry about me. Just had quite a day at work, didn't feel like going back home just yet." She looked around, her eyes widening when she notice the floor had been cleaned just now, feeling suddenly embarrassed for not noticing the 'closed' sign on the door. "Oh god- i'm so sorry. I didn't realize you were closed, i'll just come by another time-"

"Hey, don't worry. Have a seat." You gestured to the table by the large window, quickly fetching the last muffin before sitting in front of her, handing it to her.

"Thank you." She said quietly, a soft smile taking her features - but it didn't reach her eyes quite yet.

"So- what kind of job gives you a little battle scar like that and is still considered only 'quite a day'?" You teased, not really expecting much of an answer, she never seemed to be the one to talk much. But you really desperately wanted to make her give you one of those smiles of hers - a genuine smile.

"Does working for the FBI justify it?" It was now your turn to widen your eyes, surprise taking over your features. She chuckled at that before nibbling on the muffin.

"Well that was definitely unexpected." You said, your eyebrows raised but the smile never leaving your lips - the look you had given her the first time you met. "Does that mean i should start calling you agent Prentiss?" You questioned, the confident tone finding it's way back into your voice. You leaned your chin against the palm of your hand, gazing at her gently.

"That won't be necessary." Emily laughed, the not so happy thoughts clouding her mind evaporating as she relished in the way you looked at her. "I'm sorry again for showing up so late."

"It's no problem. I'll tell you what, every time you have one of those days you can stop by." You reached for her hand, gently rubbing her knuckles, unaware of the butterflies caused by it on her stomach. "Besides, i don't mind giving out muffins for free to pretty girls. Not at all." You humoured, trying to hide the nervousness you felt just by touching her hand. Smiling triumphally when her cheeks turned pink.

Her words caught in her throat as she tried to think of a possible answer to that. Deciding to stick to a comfortable silence, as there were about zero chances she could actually say anything back - not when the face that she considered to be the definition of gorgeous was so close to hers.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

"if you got a girlfriend, i'm jealous of her. but if you're single, that's honestly worse"

Emily pulled her coat tighter around her frame, it was a particular cold night. It had became an habit to visit you at night once a week, not necessarily after a bad day, just to enjoy your company.

But when she was finally standing outside the cosy coffee shop, she felt her stomach drop, a knot forming in her throat. Peering through the large window, she watched as you talked to a man who appeared to be only a few years older than you. You had a bright smile on your face, your expression showing nothing but happiness.

She had the urge to stop whatever was happening, but what excuse did she have to do that? There was nothing going on between you and her, for all she knew you probably only saw her as a good friend. Besides, you were just talking to him it's not like anything was happening. What really made her stomach turn with jealously was that these nights were supposed to be something special, just the two of you - at least she thought so.

You hugged him tightly, laughing slightly when he ruffled your hair before pulling away and leading him towards the exit.

"Emily, hi!" You cheered once you walked him out and noticed her presence. The mystery guy smiled politely at her before dismissing himself.

"Hey, sorry for appearing without a warning. Didn't know you had plans." She said after clearing her throat, trying to make knot there disappear. "Boyfriend?" She added reluctantly, trying to seem curious more than disappointed.

"Brother. And it's alright, you can show up anytime. He showed up unexpected anyway, said he was passing by and wanted to say hi." You chuckled, gesturing for her to come in.

Suddenly she felt stupid for not realizing the similarities, the same color of hair and the way his eyes looked exactly like yours.

"Besides, guys aren't really my thing." You noted with a teasing smirk, but she didn't fail to notice the way your expression told her you were telling the truth.

You didn't give her time to register and process your last words, "Wait a minute. Are you jealous, Agent Prentiss?" Eyebrows raised and a smile that made her want to confess to you right there and then.

"What- no! Why would i be jealous?" Why wouldn't she be jealous? Just the thought of you giving one of those smiles to someone else made her want to kiss you in a room full of people and ask you to be hers. She wanted those specific smiles and loving gazes all to herself.

In fact, she wasn't even sure if she was relieved that you were single or going mad with the fact she now thought she could actually have a chance with you.

"You tell me, Em." The nickname came out smoothly and she wished you would call her that more often. She stand there awkwardly, trying to think of a valid reason to why she wouldn't be jealous. Subconsciously picking at the skin around her nails.

"Hey, i'm just playing with you, pretty. Don't do that." Your hands found hers, gently pulling her hands apart.

Her heart fluttered at your gentleness, her thumbs rubbing against the soft skin of your hands.

She didn't know if she actually had a chance, but she knew she had to try at least. She was gonna ask you out and it had to be soon, she couldn't afford loosing you to someone else before trying.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

"guess i'll just sumble on home to my cats, alone... unless you wanna come along"

You hummed softly as you tapped your fingers against the counter, waiting for the clients to start coming in, having just opened the shop a few moments before. You were in a particularly good mood, having spent time with one of you favourite people yesterday - Emily. You always looked forward for the days she would show up right before you closed.

The doorbell ringed and you looked up, being met by the sight of your favourite raven haired agent. You smiled widely, straightening up your back as she approached the counter.

"Hey, Agent. The usual?" Barely waiting for the answer as you started working on getting it ready.

"Hey, yes that would be it." Emily's voiced sounded slightly nervous, you had learned to noticed she would try to mask it every time you sent flirty comments her way. What was weird this time was that you hadn't actually tried to flirted with her, yet.

"Here you go." You rounded the counter, standing now in front of her as you handed her the warm cup. It's not like there were other clients to attend to anyway.

"Thanks." She mumbled out, not really evolving the conversation as she usually would. A slight frown made it's way into your face at her strange behaviour.

"You okay, Em?" You questioned, hand reaching out to touch her arm in a comforting way.

"Yeah i just- i realized we have never hung out outside of the shop. And i was wondering if you'd like to come over or something? We could order takeout and watch something. If you want, of course." She glanced at you hopefully, your hand going still against her arm at the request. You were usually the one to take new steps.

"Are you asking me out, Prentiss?" You managed to tease, fingers now playing with the tips of her hair.

"Yes, i am." Her answer caught you completely out of guard, you didn't actually think she was gonna be the one to ask you that.

"Oh- well it's a date then." Your cheeks were a deep shade of red right now, you were sure of it.

"Great. I'll pick you up at 8." Emily stated, hand against your cheek as she leaned close and placed a gentle peck at the corner of your lips. Her lips staying in place for a moment more than they usually would have. She turned around before you could think of a comeback, leaving the shop.

She was going to drive you crazy someday. Well, crazier. If that's even possible.

(pt2)

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

a/n: first one-shot 🤍

i need more moots here ☹️ someone be my moot fr 🙏🏼

love you,

cat 🤍

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You're Not Financially Stable [Mafia Edition]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

Chan was starting to get increasingly worried about you. You had been evading him for weeks, your once warm embraces replaced by cold distance. Suspicion clawed at his mind, whispering tales of betrayal and deceit. Unable to ignore the gnawing doubt any longer, Chan set out to confront you at your apartment. As he approached your door, his heart hammered against his chest, each step a testament to the turmoil within him.

Knocking gently, Chan waited with bated breath, the tension thick in the air. When no answer came, he pushed open the door, his eyes scanning the barren room.

"Yn?" he called out, his voice echoing against the empty walls.

Silence greeted him, the absence of her presence a heavy weight upon his shoulders. But then, amidst the desolation, a glimmer of hope flickered—a letter lying on the table, its edges crumpled with despair.

With trembling hands, he unfolded the paper, his eyes devouring the words scrawled upon it—a tale of eviction, of loss, and of a new beginning. You had been forced from your home, cast aside like a forgotten memory.

Determined to find you, Chan retraced your steps, each corner of the city a labyrinth of possibilities. It wasn't long before he stumbled upon a quaint café, its windows aglow with warmth and laughter. Above it lay a modest apartment, a sanctuary hidden from the chaos below.

Heart pounding, Chan ascended the stairs, anticipation mingling with trepidation. When he reached the door, he paused, uncertainty clouding his thoughts. But then, with a resolve born of love, he knocked.

The door swung open, revealing your tear-streaked face, your eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of him.

"Channie?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the din of the city. You never thought you'd see him again after everything.

"Yn," he breathed, relief flooding through him at the sight of you, knowing you were well...at least alive, you looked as though you'd barely slept and had been crying a lot. Tears welled in your eyes as you beheld the man who had once held your heart, his presence a lifeline in the storm.

"I thought I'd lost you," You confessed, your voice trembling with emotion. After being kicked out, your phone was off service and you'd lost your charger so you couldn't even get his number. Everyone you turned to for help ignored you or pushed you away. Chan stepped forward, enveloping you in his embrace, his touch a promise of safety amidst the chaos.

"You'll never lose me," he vowed his words a beacon of hope in the darkness. 

"I'm here, Yn. And I'm not going anywhere." He promised, kissing your cheeks and keeping you pressed close to him. He wasn't certain what the future held for you both but he was sure he wasn't going to lose you again.

MINHO:

Lee Minho, a prominent figure in the underground world of organized crime, strode into the opulent ballroom of the Grand Palazzo, his arm intertwined with that of his stunning girlfriend, you. The two of you were a striking pair; Minho, with his sharp suit and commanding presence, and you, elegant in your signature red dress, exuding grace and beauty.

The occasion was a black-tie charity event, a masquerade of the city's elite, where appearances were everything. Minho relished the opportunity to flaunt his status, but tonight, his focus was solely on you.

As you mingled through the crowd, a snide remark caught Minho's attention. A well-dressed socialite whispered to her companion, casting a disdainful glance at you, 

"Isn't that the same dress she always wears? How embarrassing. Clearly, she can't afford anything better." It was a comment you'd grown used to hearing by now, it wasn't as though you could afford extravagant gowns every time Minho wanted you to join him at a party. Minho's jaw clenched in anger, his protective instincts kicking in. He resisted the urge to confront the woman, knowing it would only draw unwanted attention. Instead, he steered you away, his mind swirling with thoughts.

Later in the evening, amidst the swirl of music and laughter, Miinho overheard snippets of a conversation nearby.

"Did you hear about Yn? Word has it she's struggling to make ends meet. Works multiple jobs just to pay the bills."

"I heard Izzie say she saw her working in a diner just outside of the city," Another voice said before laughter ensued. Minho's heart sank. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. You had never mentioned anything about financial difficulties, and he had never thought to pry into your personal affairs. But now, faced with these rumours, he couldn't ignore them.

He guided you to a quiet corner of the room, his expression troubled. "Yn, is it true? Are you having trouble with money?" Your cheeks heated with embarrassment, and you looked down, unable to meet his gaze. 

"Minho, I... I didn't want you to worry. It's nothing, really." It wasn't as though you were in tons of trouble, you just struggled to make ends meet sometimes and some weeks you'd have to survive on just noddles. Minho gently lifted your chin, his eyes searching yours for the truth. 

"Don't shut me out, baby. I need to know. If you're struggling, we'll face it together." Tears welled in your eyes as you finally confessed, 

"I've been working extra shifts at the diner, tutoring on the weekends, just to keep up with the bills. I didn't want you to think any less of me." his heart ached at your words. He had always admired your independence and strength, but now he saw the toll it was taking on you. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his embrace, holding you close.

"You don't have to do this alone, baby. I'm here for you, always. We're a team," he whispered softly, promising to support you in any way he could.

CHANGBIN:

Changbin strode purposefully up the steps to your apartment, anticipation building as he looked forward to spending time with you, the two of you had hardly spent any time together as of late since he got busy with work. However, his eagerness turned to concern as he noticed the unmistakable shape of an eviction notice pinned to your front door.

His heart sank as he read the terse words printed on the paper, realizing the gravity of the situation. Without hesitation, he knocked on the door, his mind racing with worry for you. 

When you opened the door, your eyes widened in surprise and a flicker of embarrassment flashed across your face at the sight of him standing there with the notice in hand. You'd meant to take it down when you got home from work but you'd completely forgotten when you were cleaning the apartment.

Before you could say anything, he spoke gently but firmly, "What's going on, baby?" Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you met his gaze, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I've been struggling," you confessed, your words heavy with shame and yet admitting it felt as though a weight had been taken off your shoulders. "I couldn't keep up with the rent, and now they're evicting me." Changbin's heart ached at the sight of your distress, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, enveloping you in a reassuring embrace.

"You should have told me," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "We'll figure this out together."

Determined to help you through this difficult time, he wasted no time in springing into action. Whether it was arranging for temporary housing, offering financial assistance, or simply providing emotional support, he was determined to be there for you every step of the way. He'd been tempted to buy the apartment building out from your landlord but you'd refused to let him, promising that what he was doing was already enough

HYUNJIN:

The atmosphere in the grand hall was electric as the auctioneer's voice echoed off the walls, commanding attention. Hyunjin was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, and surveyed the room with a practised eye, his gaze flickering over the exquisite artworks on display. It felt as though he did this a few times a week if he was lucky enough and he could never get enough of the art functions.

But amidst the flurry of bids and whispers, something caught his attention—a series of paintings that seemed strangely familiar. As he drew closer, his heart skipped a beat. They were your paintings, each stroke a testament to your talent and passion. Confusion and concern swirled in his mind as he approached the saleswoman, his tone carefully controlled.

"Excuse me," he began, "but could you tell me about the artist who donated these paintings?" He knew you'd never want to sell them and he worried someone might have stolen them from you. You'd sold a few paintings before but these were your masterpieces, the ones you couldn't even dream of selling.

The saleswoman offered him a sympathetic smile, her eyes betraying a hint of sadness. 

"The woman who donated them was struggling," she explained softly. "She didn't want to sell, but she had no choice." A surge of protectiveness washed over Hyunjin as he listened to her words. He knew how much those paintings meant to you, how each brushstroke told a story of your dreams and aspirations. Without another word, he made up his mind. As the bidding continued around him, he silently placed his bids, determined to acquire every single one of your paintings.

Once the auction concluded and the paintings were in his possession, he wasted no time in arranging for them to be hidden away, safe from prying eyes and opportunistic buyers.

Weeks passed, and Hyunjin watched as you struggled with your art, unaware of the fate of your precious creations. He knew you longed to reclaim them, to see them hanging proudly in your studio once more. Hyunjin knew you'd never let him help you if he tried to give you money for rent or even if he tried to get you to let him help with anything but he was proud of you. You'd dug your way out of the financial pit you were in until you were ready again.

"I thought we were going to dinner," You giggled as Hyunjin took you into a warehouse, the two of you were going to celebrate your new job but he wanted to take you to your paintings first.

"It's a secret." He chuckled, as you entered the dimly lit room, Hyunjin could sense the tension radiating from you. You glanced around, your eyes widening in disbelief as they landed on row after row of canvases shrouded in darkness.

"What is this place?" You whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. Hyunjin stepped forward, his hand reaching out to gently grasp yours. 

"This is where I've been keeping something for you," he explained softly, guiding you further into the room.

As you approached the first stack of paintings, he paused, allowing you to take in the sight before you. You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what lay hidden beneath the cloths. You'd been desperately trying to find the buyer for almost a week now, willing to trade him some of your other paintings for your old ones.

"These... these are my paintings," You whispered, your voice shakey as you turned to look at Hyunjin who was nodding, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips.

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze never leaving yours. "Every single one of them." Tears welled up in your eyes as you moved closer, reaching out to touch the familiar textures of your artwork. It felt like a dream, surreal and yet undeniably real.

"Why?" You asked, your voice choked with emotion. "Why did you do this?"  He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with tenderness. 

"Because I know how much these paintings mean to you," he replied softly. "And because I wanted to make sure they were safe until you were ready to reclaim them." Your heart swelled with gratitude as you looked up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. In that moment, you knew that you were loved more deeply than you had ever dared to imagine.

Wrapping your arms around him, you buried your face in his chest, overcome with emotion.

JISUNG:

Jisung sat patiently in the living room, his mind drifting as he waited for you to finish getting ready for your date, the two of you were going out to celebrate your anniversary tonight. Glancing around the room absentmindedly, his eyes fell upon a stack of unopened envelopes on the coffee table—bills and late notices, their contents a stark reminder of the financial struggles they faced. 

His brow furrowed in concern as he picked up one of the envelopes, his heart sinking as he read the ominous words printed on the front. He had suspected that you had been under financial strain, but he had never imagined it was this severe.

Before he could dwell on his thoughts any longer, he heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching, and he looked up to see you descending the stairs. But instead of the usual smile on your face, he was met with tear-filled eyes and a quivering lip when you saw what he was holding.

Instantly, his heart clenched with worry as he rose from his seat, crossing the room to envelop you in a comforting embrace. You snuggled into him and sniffled a little.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice filled with concern. You buried your face in his chest, your tears staining his shirt as you struggled to find the words to explain. 

"I... I'm sorry," You choked out between sobs. "I didn't want you to see this... I've been trying to handle it on my own..." Your family taught you never to rely on others for your money and it was something you'd tried to stick by but it was getting harder and harder to hide your troubles. Jisung held you tighter, his own heart heavy with the weight of your pain. He had never wanted you to feel like you had to carry the burden alone, but he understood why you had kept it from him.

Gently guiding you to the couch, he sat beside you, wiping away your tears with a gentle touch. 

"You never have to hide anything from me, my love," he assured you, his voice tender and reassuring. "We're in this together, no matter what." He whispered before kissing the top of your head, your heart was heavy as you stared at the stacks of unpaid bills just waiting for you to get another paycheck.

"It doesn't matter how much overtime I do, it's never enough." You admit to him with a sad smile, you wanted to be able to do this alone but it seemed damn near impossible. 

"What can I do?" He whispered, rubbing your back softly as you stared down at the bills.

"Give me a job?"

"How about I do that and you come to live with me? We can split everything," You stared up at him, nodding with a small smile on your face, you couldn't think of anything better. 

FELIX:

Felix sat in the dimly lit restaurant with his lawyers, enjoying the ambience of the evening. As plates clinked and conversations murmured around them, the mood suddenly shifted when his lawyers leaned in to offer some advice.

"Boss," one of them began cautiously, Felix thought his name was Noel but he couldn't have been sure since the two of them were twins and he could hardly tell the difference.

"We've been noticing something concerning about the women you've been seeing lately." Felix lowered his drink to the table and raised an eyebrow, intrigued but also wary of where this conversation might lead. He hadn't given them any permission to dig into you or your life, in fact, he'd given specific orders for almost all of his men to leave you alone.

"She doesn't seem... financially stable," The other lawyer added, choosing his words carefully, swallowing a lump in his throat and Felix noted he appeared to be sweating.

Felix felt a surge of disbelief and anger. These were his trusted advisors, but their intrusion into his personal affairs caught him off guard. He clenched his fists beneath the table, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Not financially stable?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. 

"What exactly do you mean by that?" His lawyers exchanged uncomfortable glances, sensing his displeasure.

"Well, boss,"  Noel ventured, 

"we mean that perhaps the woman isn't the best match for someone in your position. They could be a liability, you know?" Felix's jaw tightened. He felt a mix of indignation and hurt. You were being judged solely on your financial status and he wanted nothing more than to kick the lawyers to the curb but they'd told him something you hadn't yet. 

He leaned back in his chair, a steely resolve settling over him. 

"I appreciate your concern," he said icily, "but I'll thank you not to meddle in my personal life. I'll handle my relationships as I see fit." His lawyers exchanged uneasy glances, realizing they may have overstepped their bounds. But the Felix wasn't finished.

"And from now on," he continued his voice like ice, "I don't want to hear another word of advice on this matter. Is that clear?" His lawyers nodded hastily, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Later that night Felix found himself sitting across from you in your small apartment, your bills stretched out on the coffee table as you showed him everything that was late or on its final notice. It wasn't exactly something you were proud of but when he'd asked you if he could see it you didn't want to hide it from him.

"So Noel and Joel told you?" You laughed dryly and rubbed the back of your neck,

"I would have loved for you to tell me." He admitted, looking at the pieces of paper before he started to organise them into piles from most urgent to not-so-urgent.

"I was-"

"I know," He whispered, rubbing your hand softly as you laid your head down on the coffee table. You'd been trying everything to get yourself out of the hole you were in but it was proving to be more difficult than you'd been intending

"I think the best option is for you to move in with me," The suggestion came out so casually you thought it might have been a joke if it wasn't for him looking at you with a serious look on his face.

"Your biggest problem is your rent, once that's out of the way you'll have more than enough money for your bills." He told you with a smile, he'd been meaning to ask you for a while but this was just giving him that final push. 

"I still need to pay rent at yours," You told him and he nodded at you,

"Sure, but only once you're back on your feet, I won't take no for an answer," He smirks at you before your cheeks begin to heat up, moving in with him was the next step in your relationship, it only made sense. 

"O...Okay, great. I'll call my landlord-"

"I'll call, you focus on packing," He smirks, kissing you softly as you rush to go and get some bags and suitcases ready. 

SEUNGMIN:

Seungmin's heart pounded with fury as he burst into your apartment, only to be met with a scene of chaos. Two burly loan sharks loomed over you, their menacing presence casting a shadow over the room as they smashed objects in a display of intimidation.

Without hesitation, Seungmin stepped forward, his imposing figure radiating authority. The loan sharks froze in their tracks, their expressions shifting from arrogance to fear as they recognized him.

"What's going on here?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. You turned to see him, relief flooding your features at the sight of him but you were still scared that he was here. 

"It's... it's nothing," you stammered, your voice trembling with emotion. "They say I owe them money, but I don't know what to do."

Seungmin's jaw clenched as he surveyed the damage, his mind racing with a mix of anger and concern. He knew you had been struggling, but he had never imagined the extent of your troubles.

Turning to the loan sharks, he fixed them with a steely gaze. "Leave. Now," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The loan sharks hesitated for a moment, exchanging uneasy glances before hastily retreating from the apartment, their bravado crumbling in the face of the Seungmin's formidable presence.

Once they were gone, he turned his attention back to you, his expression softening with concern. 

"What happened?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with regret for not realizing the extent of your struggles sooner. Tears welled up in your eyes as you recounted the story of your ex-boyfriend, how he had left you drowning in debt with no way to escape. God, you'd been too ashamed to ask for help, too afraid of burdening him with your problems.

But as you poured your heart out to him, you felt a weight lifting from your shoulders, knowing that you no longer had to face your troubles alone.

"We're going to find your ex, make him pay those assholes back and then you're moving in with me," He tells you plainly, looking around at everything those two had smashed up,

"Make a list of everything they've broken, I'll have your ex or them replace it," He said sternly, looking at you as you wrapped yourself around him and cuddled into him, just happy you weren't going to go through this alone anymore.

JEONGIN:

The atmosphere at the black-tie event was opulent, with chandeliers casting a soft glow over the elegantly dressed guests. Jeongin, resplendent in his tailored suit, mingled effortlessly among the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and nods with fellow attendees.

"Isn't that your girlfriend?" Someone asked him, his gaze wandered to where his friend had been pointed and he frowned when he spotted you. His heart skipped a beat as he realized it was you, clad in a crisp uniform as you moved gracefully among the guests.

Confusion and concern mingled in his mind as he watched you discreetly from across the room. You had told him you were too sick to join him tonight, but here you were, working tirelessly to cater to the needs of others.

"Who knew you'd be dating a waitress," Someone sniggered before Jeongin "accidentally" spilt a glass of champagne down his suit, glaring at him before going back to watching you. Anger simmered beneath the surface as he approached you, his steps purposeful yet controlled. When he reached your side, he fixed you with a steely gaze, his voice low and measured.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his tone tinged with a mix of frustration and disbelief. Your eyes widened in surprise as you met his gaze, your whole body heating up. You hadn't known that this was the specific party he was going to be at tonight,

"I... I had to work," You stammered, Your voice barely above a whisper. Jeongin's jaw tightened, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. He had trusted you and believed you when you said you were too sick to accompany him tonight. But now, faced with the truth, he couldn't help but feel betrayed.

"Is that so?" he replied, his voice cold and distant. "You couldn't even be honest with me?" You lowered your gaze, your hands fidgeting nervously at your sides, it wasn't like you wanted to hide it from him but you were working four jobs and it was hard to let people know that. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the din of the crowd. "I didn't want to disappoint you." Jeongin's anger softened slightly as he looked at you, his heart aching with a mixture of frustration and compassion. He knew you had your reasons, your own struggles and obligations that you felt compelled to fulfil.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite the tension between them. 

"You should have told me," he murmured, his voice softer now, laced with an undercurrent of understanding.

"How? I work four jobs and you barely work one, I-I felt like you might hate me if you found out." You admit before he takes you in his arms, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you flush against him.

"I couldn't care if you worked none or ten, you're my girlfriend and I'm here for you, no matter what," He whispered before kissing you softly.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @piercedddriver

[hrtzstargirl]

Lovely.

Hanni Pham.

Synopsis: A girl from the library has caught her attention and now she's trying to get hers. Seems simple? Nope, it's far from that.

Pairings: Hanni Pham x Fem!reader

Warnings: Cuss words slight, others; none (?)

A/N: Had this idea at a Sunday night at 10pm and just finished it now lmao, also Pride and Prejudice is a must read! I love it!!!!

--

In the quiet sanctuary of a city library, surrounded by the musty scent of old books and the soft hum of pages turning, Hanni found her gaze drifting from her biology textbook to the girl across the room. The girl, with her black hair that flows beautifully pass her shoulders and her deep brown eyes that sparkled with curiosity, had an air of effortless grace as she moved through the stacks. Every movement seemed choreographed, every glance a mystery wrapped in a whisper.

Hanni's heart skips a beat whenever her gaze found the girl, looking effortlessly beautiful while looking for books and just sitting there, reading silently. Hanni has seen her multiple times before, yet, she doesn't have the courage to start a conversation with her. She had never been good at initiating conversations, especially not with someone who seemed so absorbed in her own world.

At this point, she just came to the library not to study, but to admire the girl, whom she doesn't know the name of. Constantly ditching her friends just to sit by the library, grabbing a random book from a random shelf, her eyes always glued to the girl.

Her actions spiked up curiosity from her friends, wondering what got her coming to the library, everyone of them knows she hates that place, even hoping to curse it. What's got her so smitten now?

Knowing her friends, they will never give up until they have their answers. That's why now, here they are, behind Hanni's table, spying on her actions, desperate for answers.

Hushed whispers was heard from behind her, yet her eyes stays on the girl, who's table is across the room from her, reading silently with stacks of books beside her. 'That's tons of books.' Hanni thought.

Not even feeling the burning holes behind her head, three idiots sat behind her, using book to cover up their faces, Minji pulled her book down so only her eyes are visible. Her gaze on Hanni with confusion. "What the hell? How is she staying that still?" She whispered to the other two while keeping her eyes on Hanni.

"I'm telling you, it's those cookies from the other week! I knew it was cursed!" Hyein butted in earning a confused look from Haerin,

"Cookie? You mean those cookies we brought from that old lady?"

"Yes! That old lady might be a witch! Look how Hanni is acting after she ate those cookies." Hyein reasoned out. Meanwhile, Minji who is trying to put up with their secret spies act hushed them.

"Shhh! Guys, can't you see I'm trying to spy on Hanni right now?! Stop talking so loud because she'll hear us!" She turned to look at them with annoyance, the other two didn't respond and just look at something or... Someone behind her.

"Heh, yeah." Haerin smirked while nodding her head repeatedly, Hyein just shrugged while trying to hold back laughter.

"What now?" Minji let out a deep sigh, Hyein just nodded at something behind her, silently telling Minji to turn around.

"Wha-?" Minji turned only to be met by a smack on the head. "OW!" she yelped as she rubbed the part where she was hit, Hanni stood now in front of her with her hands on her waist, looking extremely frustrated or annoyed, maybe both?

"What are you guys doing! Spying on me now huh?"

"It's Minji's fault!" Hyein quickly snitched, trying to run away only to be pulled back down by the back of her shirt by Haerin. Clearly not wanting to deal with this angry smol otter.

Minji received another smack from Hanni after Hyein said that, she let out a grunt before rubbing her head aggressively, "Stop with that!"

"Why would I? You forced those two to spy on me!"

"Okay, but my reason is valid."

"Valid my butt! I don't care!"

"Actually, it might be valid or..." Haerin spoke up, stretching out the 'or' while looking at Hanni who's giving her a look that says 'Don't you dare say another word.'

Haerin just cleared her throat, not wanting to continue speaking. Hanni turned her attention back on Minji who's trying to see who or what was Hanni looking at earlier.

"Dude!" She pushed Minji's shoulder harshly, "Ow! Okay fine! I'm sorry."

Minji moved away from Hanni, trying to squeeze in between the two younger girls who just pushed her back. "Seriously, why does everyone keep hurting me?"

She scoffed before settling down on the table behind them. Hanni just watched with her arms crossed, "Mind telling me what now?"

The three didn't show any sign of them wanting to speak, "Guys, seriously, tell me!"

"We noticed you were acting really weird since the other week. Like really out of yourself, we know you Hanni, you don't like the library, it's like the last thing you want to be at. What changed your mind?"

"And I'm telling you guys, it's those cookies! I knew it! Maybe that old lady is a witch or something worse!" Hyein butted in, speaking in a really loud voice, causing the librarian to shushed them and for the others to look at them.

Part of the others is the girl, whom Hanni was admiring from afar earlier before being interrupted by the noises from behind her.

Hanni gave the librarian an apologetic smile, catching the girl's stare just as she was looking back at her friends. Hanni felt her heart skipped a beat when their eyes met, even if just for a fleeting second.

The world seemed to stop and stood frozen, the two of them held their gaze, the girl gave her a small smile before returning to her book, Hanni then being snapped back to reality by Haerin and Hyein arguing.

"I told you she's not!"

"She might be!"

"What? Witches don't even exist, much less, a thing worser than a witch!"

"Yes, they do! You just couldn't see it!"

"Guys! Shut up, Hanni is going to explain why." Minji looked at Hanni expectedly, waiting impatiently. "Well?"

"Well you see... There's this girl-"

"Oh.My.Gosh." Hyein let out an exaggerated gasp which earns her a soft slap on the shoulder by Haerin, who seems to be into this topic of Hanni.

"Well... Uhm, I may have a crush on her BUT! I don't know if it's a crush because I don't know! This is confusing!"

"Do you like seeing her?"

"Yes! She's like soo pleasing in the eyes, the kind of thing you want to see after a long and harsh day. You know? That thing where you look at her and all your worries and problems just go 'PUFF'"

The other three just nodded, "It's like I want to see her everyday! She's helping me ease my mind without even knowing it, I mean, look at her! She's just sitting there, reading silently yet still looking effortlessly gorgeous!"

She subtly gestures to the girl from across the room, whom in fact, is whatever Hanni is saying is true.

"Huh. For once, you're actually believable." Minji muttered while staring at the girl, which earns her a glare from Hanni.

"If you're that interested in her, why don't you talk to her?" Haerin's soft voice is finally heard again, after being silent for quite some time.

"I don't know... You guys know me, I'm bad at starting conversations, I say weird things, mostly out of topic, it's just... Embarrassing."

"You should try, she seems like a really nice girl, plus! She seems familiar to me." Hyein said, still staring at 'Hanni's girl'

"What do you mean? Also, stop looking at her! She might notice!"

"She's just... She looks someone I knew." Hyein's confuse stare makes the others confuse too.

"Hmm, I'm sensing something." Minji shrugged, clearly knows or trying to know what Hyein is thinking.

"You can't sense shit." Hanni retorted.

"Dude! There's kids here!" Minji gave her a pointed look, making Hanni roll her eyes.

"Hah! I'll figure it out later, can we go now? I'm hungry!"

Hyein stood up and dragged the two older girls out of the library, Haerin following closely yet quietly behind, taking one last glance at Hanni's girl.

--

After days of silent admiration and some persuading from her friends, Hanni decided it was time to make her move. Armed with a plan that seemed foolproof in her head, she picked up a book she knew well—Jane Austen's “Pride and Prejudice”—and positioned herself within the girl’s line of sight. The idea was simple: read a classic and maybe, just maybe, it would spark a conversation.

As the minutes ticked by, Hanni’s confidence began to wane. The girl seemed completely engrossed in her reading, oblivious to the world around her. Hanni sighed and turned her attention back to her book, feeling foolish for even trying. But then, like a scene straight out of a romantic novel, the girl looked up and their eyes locked.

“Pride and Prejudice, huh?” The girl’s voice was soft, with a hint of curiosity. “One of my favorites.”

Hanni's heart raced. "Oh really? Mine too, uhm I'm Hanni, by the way."

“Y/n” the girl replied, her smile as radiant as the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. "So, you're that girl who was shushed by the librarian few days ago?"

Hanni's cheeks burned bright red, she stutters on her words, "W-well, you see it was actually my friend, she talks loud about witches and stuff... I just apologized on the librarian for her... Sorry, did we disturbed your reading?"

Y/n gave her a smile in return, finding the girl amusing and cute too. "No no, it's fine, just got surprised when a loud voice rang throughout the library."

"Oh phew. I thought we were disturbing. She's just really energetic and loud." Hanni chuckled nervously, trying to melt the ice between them.

Y/n nodded in response, her eyes seems to find herself drowning in Hanni's eyes, those soft yet showing clear sign of nervousness. Why is she nervous? It's not like Y/n is a bad person.

Wanting to ease the tension between them, Y/n spoke up. "So, what do you think of Mr. Darcy?"

Hanni looked at her in confusion to which the other girl point out the book in front of her. "Oh... Well, at first Darcy appears to be arrogant and aloof. His wealth and social standing make him seem proud and dismissive of those he considers beneath him. He is highly honorable and principled, loyal and devoted to those he cares about, he is highly intelligent and well-educated too."

"Over time, Darcy reveals a more romantic and compassionate side. His genuine love for Elizabeth Bennet, despite societal expectations, shows his capacity for deep emotional connection and personal growth. Darcy’s actions demonstrate his generosity and consideration for others, especially when he helps to resolve the scandal involving Lydia Bennet. His willingness to intervene and provide financial support without seeking recognition is a testament to his character."

"Throughout the novel, Darcy becomes more self-reflective and learns to humble himself. He acknowledges his flaws and strives to improve, particularly in his interactions with Elizabeth. Sorry, am I talking too much?" Hanni asked after noticing the person she's talking to has gone quiet. Feeling nervousness in her bones, afraid to have scared the girl.

The other just chuckled, "What, no! I just... Find it very amusing and nice to finally have someone to talk to about books and someone who notice that much detail."

Hanni sighed in relief, "Thank god, I thought I scared you, I talk to much... Thought I'll give you a warning."

"It's fine, I like it when someone talks too much about things they like, giving them the freedom to speak without feeling judged, now if you may, continue please?"

A grin appeared on her face, easing her worries about scaring the girl and finally letting herself be comfortable. "In my opinion, Mr. Darcy's transformation from a seemingly proud and distant aristocrat to a loving and humble partner is central to the novel's themes of personal growth and the complexities of human relationships. His character arc is one of the most compelling aspects of "Pride and Prejudice."

And just like that, the ice was broken. They spent hours discussing books, sharing their favorite passages, and laughing over their mutual love for classic literature. Hanni's warmth and easygoing nature made Y/n feel at ease, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a connection that transcended words.

After they said goodbye's to each other and went their separate ways, Hanni couldn't help but let out a huge grin, proud of herself for not chickening out. Proud to finally talk to the girl she's been wanting to. Minji spotted her skipping in the halls and giggling to herself, "Now what happened to that weirdo?" She muttered before ignoring her once again.

But as days turned into weeks, Hanni began to notice a distance in Y/n’s demeanor. She was still kind, still warm, but there was a guardedness in her eyes, a reluctance to let Hanni get too close. It made Hanni overthink, wondering what could have possible gone wrong? Did she finally get bored of her because she talks too much?

She knew she couldn't leave it like this, it's eating her alive. One evening, as they sat together in their usual spot by the window, Hanni decided to confront the issue.

“Y/n, is everything okay?” she asked gently. “You seem… distant.”

Y/n took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the book in her lap. “It’s not you, Hanni. It’s me. I have some personal issues I’m dealing with, and I don’t want to burden you with them.”

Hanni reached out and took Y/n's hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze before saying. "You don't have to carry everything alone, Y/n, I'm here for you. We're friends now yeah?" But Hanni wished they could be more than friends, if only.

Tears welled up in Y/n’s eyes as she looked at Hanni. “I don’t want you to get hurt. My problems... they’re complicated.”

“We’ll face them together,” Hanni said with a smile. “You don’t have to push me away.”

In that moment, Y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, she could trust Hanni with her heart and her burdens. It wouldn’t be easy, but together, they could navigate the challenges ahead. But she couldn't shake this growing feeling in her chest. The kind of thing that makes you smile yet sad, the one thing that brings you comfort. She couldn't understand what is it or what's causing it.

She wants to hate it but she couldn't. Hanni brings her comfort like no one else did except her dearest sister, Danielle.

Hanni is like a flower that bloomed in her gloomy and dark garden, something so beautiful made her garden bloom, to her, Hanni colored her dark world. She brought happiness and beauty in the dark realm, the butterflies are supposed to roam freely and not be in her stomach whenever Hanni is around. Y/n thought 'I'll just ask Danielle about this, she seems more professional at understanding feelings.'

And so, in the quiet sanctuary of the city library, surrounded by the musty scent of old books and the soft hum of pages turning, a new chapter began—a story of love, trust, and the courage to let someone in.

[potatoplace]

betty

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | So Long, London (part 3)

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: In the aftermath of your fall, your sisters stay by your side, comforting you as best they can. The Shadowsinger is lurking, hoping for a chance to apologize. Will you tell him to go fuck himself or take him as your mate once more?

Warnings: suicide mention, self harm, difficult birth, chronic pain (idk if I should tag that?), FUCK AZRIEL

Words: ~3.5k

Author's Note: So. This was supposed to be the HAPPY ending. And it kind of is. So. Yeah. I just couldn't think of a way to make it actually happy except in the way that I did. Because tbh Azriel fucked up TOO. HARD. There's honestly no way to fully come back from what he did... grrrrr. I hope you guys like it anyways, sorry that I can't deliver on some actual fluff to heal your hearts 💔 also the first bit before Feyre finds out about Reader is the same as in 'Gone'. And the final alternate ending will be out tomorrow!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Azriel quickly made his way back to Elain, doing his best to put the interaction he had just had with you behind him.

His mate.

Elain’s sister… That’s the only way he had ever thought of you.

As a human you had been… Less than average. Hard to look at.

At least in comparison to Elain.

Elain was a breath of fresh air, so lovely and innocent and so entirely unlike him.

And turned fae, she was even more breathtaking.

He had waited for her to realize how truly damaged and scarred he was, and not just on the outside. How entirely unworthy of her he was.

But she hadn’t. She had seen him, loved him, even with how broken he was on the inside.

And he had meant his words to Nesta, when he had said no one would ever compare to Elain, even his mate.

And he was right. You didn’t compare to her.

But as he reached her side and wrapped his arm around his lovely Elain, he couldn’t help but… wonder.

Had he just made a mistake in rejecting the bond so easily?

His free hand came to rub at his chest, which felt like it was being scraped with a knife, a dull, throbbing pain.

“Are you alright?” Elain’s sweet voice asked, and he tilted his head to look down at her.

“Of course, sweetheart. Join me for a dance?” He asked softly, leading her by the hand to the dance floor after she nodded, a beautiful smile gracing her lips.

The ring in his pocket, so dainty and light, felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds.

He had planned to propose to Elain tonight, present her with the beautiful ring that he had picked out just for her. But now, after your confession and the pain from a severed bond in his chest, it just didn’t feel like the time.

Only a minute into their dance, Feyre screamed in agony, all heads whipping to look at their High Lady.

“Feyre? What’s wrong?” Rhys asked, already holding Feyre in his arms.

She broke away from him a moment later, sprinting further into the House without any warning.

Rhys followed immediately after, running after his mate, and the rest of the inner circle followed quickly.

They found Feyre peering over a balcony, sobbing at whatever she saw before summoning her wings. In the next moment, Feyre was jumping over the edge, diving down towards the rocks below.

Just a few seconds later, she returned, a body clutched tightly to her chest-

You. His mate.

Feyre set you gently on the ground, her hands already glowing with healing powers. “Someone go get Madja. Now.”

Cassian took to the air as soon as she gave her command, flying in the direction of the healer’s home as the rest of them stood, watching Feyre work to heal your broken, battered body with mouths wide in disbelief.

Your other two sisters fell to the ground around you, careful not to touch you lest they cause any more damage.

“What… What happened?” Elain asked tearily. His soft, sweet Elain, tears already streaming down her face, sorrow matched by Nesta.

But Feyre… Feyre was sobbing as she worked to heal you, mending the vital organs that had been damaged in the fall.

Because you had fallen. Somehow, you had fallen over the edge of the balcony that would reach above your waist.

You were so small, so fragile.

The torn bond in his chest felt like a gaping wound, Truthteller twisting inside the muscle over and over and over as he looked at your dying body, the reality of the situation hitting him all at once.

You are his mate! He had rejected his mate!

Cassian returned with Madja in record time, who immediately set to healing the bones that were shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Everyone besides the sisters should leave now, I need to focus,” Madja said sharply, leveling a glare at Azriel himself.

He had been softly sobbing, tears cascading down his face without him even realizing.

Rhys, Cassian, Mor, and Amren all turned their eyes to Azriel, confused at the level of grief he was displaying, nearly level with your sisters.

Quickly, Azriel turned and left the balcony, making his way to another abandoned one, taking to the skies a moment later. He hoped the cold air would clear his thoughts, rid him of this feeling of regret he was holding now, after seeing you nearly dead.

But still, his heart ached with the need to see you, the need for the bond to be whole and healed again, to give it a chance.

Because now, he could see that he had made a mistake. Now that you had nearly left him in a way he hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t thought would ever happen.

Elain… Elain would be sad, of course. And he would miss her truly… It was a shame you were sisters, or he may have been able to figure out a world in which he could have the both of you to love him.

Most likely, Elain wouldn’t want a relationship with her sister’s mate, either. It would be… Cruel of them to continue on, with you still around them.

He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized that the moment you had confessed.

But there was no changing that. There was only the path forward, and that was for him to find some way to repair the bond between you, and do whatever he needed to win his mate to his side

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The first time you woke, it was to blinding pain in every inch, every cell of your body.

Without opening your eyes, your body wrenched itself to the side to wretch up whatever remained in your stomach, the movement sending more stabs of pain through you.

You weren’t awake for more than a minute before you succumbed to the pain, falling into blissful nothingness.

The second time you woke, you could hear muffled words, sounding like they were passing through several layers of cotton stuffed into your ears.

The voices sounded like your sisters, arguing in hushed voices.

Probably about what a failure you were, not even able to take your own life, even by jumping from-

A balcony.

Azriel.

Your mate.

The pain of your body was nothing to the renewed agony of the severed bond, ripped so suddenly after finally being recognized by your mate.

A scream left your lips without a thought, and your hands attempted to raise up to your chest, to attempt to soothe the pain ravaging you so thoroughly.

But they were stopped, held down by gentle hands, and two more cupped at your face, the kindness in them reminding you of only one person-

Twin.

Your eyes cracked open the slightest bit, the connection between you and Feyre giving you just enough to meet her pretty blue eyes with your dull brown ones.

“Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre said softly, the words echoed into your mind so that you could actually hear her. “Try to stay still, sissy. We healed you as much as we could but you could still reinsure your muscles. Just stay still, I’ll get you more pain potions.”

Tears leaked out of your eyes. “Bond. Hurts,” you managed to whisper to her mentally, and her eyes widened.

One of her hands left your face, the other one curling around to lift your head and tilt a potion into your mouth, the liquid bitter but instantly easing the physical aches within you, tiredness sweeping over your senses and pulling you under.

But you could still feel the pain in your heart.

The third time you woke, the pain in your body was only a dull ache, but your hands shot up to rub at the ache in your chest.

No hands stopped you this time, but you heard three soft gasps as you moved, and after a moment you let your eyes flutter open, squeezing shut after seeing how bright it was.

“Oh, shoot,” Elain’s soft voice said, and you hear her soft footsteps and the swish of fabric before she returned. “It’s darker in here now, you should be more comfortable.”

You let your eyes open again, pleased to see there was only the dim glow of the fireplace and a few candles dotted about the room.

After a moment, you recognized that you were in the room that had been set aside for you in the River House, laying on the plush bed with your sisters huddled around it on chairs.

“What…” You started, but found yourself coughing, your dry, sore throat protesting the action. Feyre quickly offered you a glass of water, helping to raise your head and tilting the glass to spill the cool liquid down your throat.

Once you had had your fill, she set the glass back down on your bedside table, then helped you sit up against the headboard. She fussed with the pillows, making sure that you were only laying against the plush padding, then tugged the blanket up to cover your chest and shoulders.

Feyre was sniffling softly as she looked at you, her eyes gleaming with unshod tears, but her face was puffy and red so you knew she had been crying recently.

“What happened?” You asked quietly.

How did I survive?

“I- I felt you go unconscious, through our mental link. And I- I found you on-” Feyre’s voice was cut off by a sob.

Nesta sighed, to your left. But it wasn’t an angry sigh, like you were used to. Your head turned to look at her, seeing tears on her own face as well.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen her cry.

“She could you at the rocks below the House of Wind,” Nesta explained, her hands sneaking under the blanket and taking your left one in them, her thumbs rubbing over the back of it in a comforting manner. “You were… You were nearly gone, when we found you.”

“She and Madja saved you, but they said you might have some… Residual pain, because of the amount of damage,” Elain said softly, her own hands resting on top of the blanket over your right hand.

You blinked at the three of them, lost for words.

The pain in your chest flared again, reminding you of exactly why you were in this situation.

“I… I’m sorry for worrying you…” You whispered, guilt overtaking you as your right hand came to rub at your heart, attempting to soothe its pain, as futile as it was.

“Why are you sorry?” Nesta asked sharply, and you flinched. “I- I just meant that you have nothing to be sorry about. It’s Azriel who should be apologizing, and to you.”

Tears flooded your eyes at the mere mention of his name, and Feyre’s fingers wiped them away with a soft cloth with so much care that you began to sob.

“Oh, sissy, I’m sorry,” Feyre said, and climbed into the bed next to you, her body curling into yours like it did for so many years in that cold, run down cottage. “I’m so, so sorry,” she cooed as she rocked your body gently, joined to her back by Elain and Nesta to your left. “For what it’s worth, he realized what an… Error… He made,” Feyre said softly, but it only made you cry more.

That meant that he had hurt Elain, and that was the last thing that you wanted.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. I don’t…” Elain paused, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to be with my sister’s mate, especially not… Not with the circumstances. He won’t tell us exactly what happened, just that… He rejected the bond quickly, and is now searching for a way to heal it.”

Your sobs quieted at that information, your mind confused.

“What?”

“Azriel is… Attempting to make amends with you,” Nesta said, clearly angry with just the suggestion. “Though what he thinks he can do to fix it, I don’t know.”

Elain sighed. “Really, I’m sorry Y/N. If I had known he was your mate… I never would have accepted his advances.”

“It’s okay, ‘Lain. I… I should have told him sooner, given him… An actual choice, not sprung it on him last night.”

“Starfall was a week ago, Y/N. He’s been stalking your room since we brought you here, his shadows are practically coating the door at all times. Feyre hasn’t let them in, though,” Nesta explained.

Your brow furrowed. A week? You had been out for a week?

“You needed the time to heal as much as you could. You woke up a couple of times, but it never lasted for long, your were in too much pain,” Feyre said softly, one of her hands running though your hair.

“Can… Is he… Is he waiting now?” You asked quietly, though you weren’t sure which answer you were hoping for.

Your sisters exchanged weary glances, but Elain was the one who nodded in confirmation.

“Would I be able to speak with him?”

Nesta sighed and squeezed your hand tightly. “Are you sure? I could go roast him alive instead? Save you the trouble of taking him out?”

Despite the pain still throbbing in your heart, your lips curled up at her suggestion. “No, I’ll be… Fine, Nes. I just… Need to do this.”

“Okay, we’ll tell him that he can come in. Would you like any of us to stay?” Elain asked, her eyes soft and worried.

You shook you head. “No, I think it would be better for us to talk alone.”

“If you need us, or to have him leave, just reach out for me, okay sissy?” Feyre suggested, giving you one last squeeze before she slipped from the bed.

“I will, FeyFey,” you said, giving her a soft smile in an attempt to reassure her that you were fine.

Nesta opened the door to your bedroom, shadows instantly flooding inside as she did. You could spot Azriel’s massive frame in the doorway, his wings drooped to the ground.

You heard Nesta hiss something at him, too quietly for you to hear, but the way his wings fell further and his accepting nod came across, you were certain that she had threatened to cut off important body parts if you ended up even more hurt.

Azriel entered the bedroom, his eyes cast to the ground as he stood in the center of the room. Elain left next, avoiding looking at Azriel as she did. Feyre was the last to go, leveling Azriel with a deathly cold stare. You knew that she was the most shaken up by the experience- you and your twin had always had a strong connection, almost like you could read each other’s minds, even before Feyre obtained the magic to actually do so.

She turned in the doorway, her eyes locking with yours. You smiled slightly and nodded at her.

You would be fine.

It’s not like there’s any way Azriel can hurt you more, what with the bond already destroyed in your chest.

The door snicked shut behind her, though you could still hear their heartbeats lingering in the hallway outside, ready to step in if they heard anything concerning.

“So…” You started, once the two of you had been in silence for a few minutes.

“So… I��� I wanted to apologize, Y/N. I wish I could take back my cruel words, and undo the rejection of the bond. I don’t know what I was thinking, moving so quickly,” Azriel said, his voice the saddest that you had ever heard it.

Still, you didn’t say anything.

“I am so, so sorry Y/N. I want to take away your pain, I want to do anything that I can to help you. You are my mate and I have done so much wrong by you. Please, Y/N. Please give me another chance,” he begged.

And it broke you.

Your arms came out from under the blanket without you meaning to, reaching for him-

Your mate.

Your mate who was begging for your forgiveness.

Begging for you.

The broken bond in your chest ached even as his hands met yours, grasping them tightly as he kneeled on the bed before you, tears in his eyes.

“Please, let me try everything I can to repair the bond. Let me earn your trust and love, Y/N.”

You sighed and bit your lip, considering his words, the conviction with which he said them.

“Is… Is there a way to fix the bond?” You asked tentatively, squeezing his hands gently.

“There are ways, yes. They require multiple detailed rituals under the separate phases of the moon, with a priestess’s help. I… I’ve already had a priestess practice the rituals, in case you were to say yes. Of course, we’ll only start when you’re ready.”

You nodded slowly.

You could have your mate.

If you wanted.

“When can we start?”

💙🤍💙🤍💙

A month later, you and Azriel had completed the four rituals required to repair the mating bond.

The priestess had warned you that the bond would likely feel slightly hollow, not quite as strong as they normally do once accepted.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you baked a blackberry cheesecake for your mating ceremony with Azriel- it was the first dessert the two of you had shared in your very first date, while you were still on bed rest after your…

Accident.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you lifted a bite of the cheesecake to Azriel’s mouth as your family watched on, clapping and congratulating the two of you quickly before they winnowed out of the Town House, which Rhys and Feyre had gifted to the two of you.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care once the mating frenzy had subsided, laying in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, hand clutching at your heart.

Phantoms pains still rang through you every day, rattling your bones. The bond was there, yes, but it had been killed and brought back to life, reanimated in your chest and torturing you in life.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you slid Truthteller across your thigh in the middle of the night while Azriel slept in the next room, needing to feel a pain that was real to distract you from how much you didn’t care that the bond wasn’t whole.

You told yourself that you didn’t care that Azriel wanted you for the bond, and likely the bond alone.

The moments that made you not care were the ones where Azriel’s attentions made the bond flare to life in you, imitating the wholeness that you could have once had.

His soft kisses on your lips and sweet nothings whispered in your ears, gentle scarred hands caressing your own scars, trying to erase every pain that he had caused you.

You swore that you didn’t care as you saw his eyes linger on Elain at family dinners, convinced yourself that you didn’t see longing and lust in his hazel eyes as he took in your elder sister, finally attempting to fulfill her own bond with Lucien.

You did the same as his eyes lingered on every pretty female you passed on your walks through Velaris, wishing that he would look at you with the same heated looks he did for them.

Even as you grew with child, you promised to yourself that you didn’t care that the bond felt like it was dying in your chest, draining you of your energy.

All you had ever wanted was to have a husband and a baby, someone who would love you forever, and a sweet child to raise, to shield from the cruelty of the world.

And of course, you told yourself that you didn’t care when he came home smelling of another female, his clothes slightly out of place and hair tousled while you were on bed rest, the lingering pain from your attempt making you unable to walk on your own.

Azriel was with you during labor, and the bond between the two of you shined the brightest then, with your hand squeezing his, nearly to the point of breaking bones, as you pushed and pushed and pushed, finally rewarded with your beautiful baby girl-

The absolute copy of her father, stunning hazel eyes, thick and curly dark hair, and tiny, fluttering wings on her back.

The labor took so much out of you, the wings having torn your body open, but finally, after hours of healing from Feyre and Madja, you were given the absolute joy of holding your firstborn.

You beamed down at her, enraptured by how sweet and precious and perfect she was, her little fingers curling around one of yours.

So small. So delicate.

You knew that you would protect her with your life, with everything you had. You would never let anyone hurt her, never let anyone compare her to those around her. She would be safe, and loved, and love herself like you had never had the chance to.

So you told yourself that you didn’t care, because she was worth it.

She was worth everything.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222

[honeyxbunny99]

Sandor Clegane~ The Bitch and The Hound pt. 1

You bit your tongue as you scrubbed at King Joffrey's stinking royal feet. The taste of blood and pain mingling in your mouth was the only thing strong enough to distract you from your own humiliation in this moment. You could blame Joffrey Baratheon, the foolish demon before you. You stole a glance upwards only for your eyes to quickly flit back down in shame when you saw his thin lips curled up in a wiry smile, hatred in his blue eyes, and it was all directed at you. No, not all the blame on him. Your father. 

Your father was to blame, that damned fool. He was the reason you were in this mess in the first place.  Once your father had been charming, or so you were told. A traveling magician who settled in King's Landing when your beautiful mother opened her legs to him one night. Truly, the greatest trick he'd ever pulled was bedding your mother. She was said to be the most beautiful woman in the Reach once, before she was trafficked to marry another noble. One fateful stop for the night, wine, and slight of hand, and you came into existence. You, who were once not even a thought, were suddenly a big problem. She was found with your father and bloody sheets and thrown out into the cold. She bore your stupid father one more child, a girl, before she couldn't handle her life any longer, and ended it herself. 

~Good riddance.~ You used to think sometimes. ~How could you leave us?~ You thought all other times. 

YOU were now the most beautiful girl in King's Landing, or as your father would bolster, in all the Seven Kingdoms. He had made it his mission in life to improve your family's circumstances, through no work of his own. No, your family's future depended entirely on your pretty face. Barely 17, you had developed a reputation around town for your beauty, and your mystery. You were not allowed to walk about unescorted, but your family had no money. Your father would walk you everywhere, keeping his prize close to his chest at all times. You were no fool; you knew you were beautiful by the way people's heads turned in the streets. By the way shopkeepers offered you items freely and how many men would come knocking on your father's door asking for your hand. 

Some men had been handsome, some had many prospects. And yet, your father turned them all away, wanting, no, needing, only the best. ~A fool~, you thought as you opened your mouth to wince, drinking in your own blood from your harsh bite on your tongue. 

He is the reason you were here, presented before the young king in your finest dress. 

~~"Your grace, what she lacks in title, she many times over supplements with her beauty, her kindness, and her intell--"

"That dog?" Joffrey started, looking between you and your father with a disgusted look that you had never seen before. "You've come to my castle to bring me a bitch? To what, to fuck, to marry, to kill?"

Your heart sank to your stomach as you listened to his harsh words. "Y-Your grace, it was my daughter's greatest wish to meet you. She can only dream of calling you her husband..." You watched your father take a step back in apprehension. Joffrey said nothing, only raised his eyebrows as if in wait of a punchline. "(Y/n) is the greatest beauty in all of the Seven Kingdoms, and she wishes to be your wife now and alw--"

The Boy King erupted with laughter. He doubled over in his chair, slapping his knee for effect. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and you glanced at the crowd surrounding you. Some laughed along with the boy king, others hid their face in embarrassment for you and your cause, but most were stoic, waiting for Joffrey's next move.  

The King stood finally and pointed his dainty finger at you. 

"This bitch is not fit to kiss my boot! You have brought shame on your family, ser, but not nearly enough. You see, I can't simply allow everyone to waste the king's time like this. Your family name is what, I've already forgotten?"

"(L/n) ... Your grace." Your father's voice was low. This had not gone at all how he had been expecting.

"(L/n) ... Well, my good man, I truly believe you will succeed in what you came here to do today. You came to make a name for yourself, and your whore daughter." As Joffrey spoke, you looked at the people around him. His mother, useless. His Head of the Kings Guard, an abuser just like him. And The Hound, his protector from childhood. Not one of them could end this miserable moment. "Today, no one shall forget the name (L/n)." 

As he finished speaking you realized he was right in front of you. He reached his hand up and turned your face with it, examining you. You held your breath, nails digging into your palms behind your back. 

"Hmm..." He looked you up and down, licking his lips fiendishly. "You are not fit to kiss my boot, but perhaps you could make use of yourself by washing my feet."

Your brow furrowed in confusion and the boy's smile grew. "Someone bring this bitch a sponge and water." 

"Your grace, I--"

"Ah, she speaks!" He cried out, looking at his followers for approval. Laughter followed and you saw someone dart off to fetch the items. "I don't like the sound of your voice. If I hear it again, your father will take the blows."

He stalked up the steps to the Iron Throne again with Pride. You stood frozen. "Well, take off my boots." He said lazily. 

"Your Grace, I do not wish to offend--" "Then don't, bitch... Your father said it was your greatest wish to be mine, or are you calling your father a liar... Lying to the king is an act of treason, and I don't mind reminding the court of the punishment for such crimes... Is your father a liar?"

"No." You said breathlessly. Tears pricked at your eyes at the thought. 

"Then today should be a dream come true for you... You get to touch your beloved king."

You looked back at your father, and out towards the freedom behind him. 

"Ser Merryn, pull her father to the side and bring forward my next citizen." Just then the man returned with a sponge and a bucket full of soapy water and forced it into your hands, the water splashing on your gown, making the king laugh. 

You struggled internally for a moment before your feet walked forward on their own. The king stared you down as you knelt at his feet, finally resolving to wink at you before his attention was drawn to another subject complaining. 

You tuned it all out as best you could and focused on the task at hand.~~

Finally, as you were drying your king's feet, he tutted at you and looked down. "You really are worthless, aren't you? You've missed a spot!" You squinted in confusion as the king brought his right foot closer to your face. Suddenly your face scrunched up tightly in pain as Joffrey kicked you hard in the nose. You fell back on your ass and slid down a couple steps as a result. Joffrey chuckled quickly as you panted and held your nose to stop the bleeding. He made a show of tying up his shoes while the court was silent, before standing and grabbing your bucket. He walked slowly towards you and raised the bucket over your head, then dumping the dirty water on your head. You gasped and choked on your own blood. Tears could flow freely now, as the water would mask it anyways. You stood quickly, not even thinking. 

"FUCK YOU!" You screamed. The boy's eyes widened. "Fuck you and your incestuous mother, you pathetic little shit!"

Ser Merryn marched forward at you as you heard your father shout scoldings and apologies. You blocked your face, but he hit you anyway. You stumbled back but did not fall.

"Ser Merryn! I said her father would take the blows!" The boy king retorted. The knight marched back over and whacked your father hard with the hilt of his sword 3 times. You dared not look away from the king. 

"Stop!... Ser, you came here today to improve your circumstances... And you, bitch, to find a husband worthy of your beauty. I am nothing if not a generous king, and I understand the needs of my people." He smirked, a fire in his eyes. "So, I will grant you your requests... Your circumstances shall improve, knowing you no longer have a bitch around to mooch off your family. And you," he smiled, biting his bottom lip, "You shall have a worthy husband... And who more worthy for a bitch, than a hound?!?" His voice was deranged, and he raised his arms up, demanding approval from his court. He did not receive it. 

"Hound!" He called and you watched his guard dog snap straighter in attention. "Come collect your bitch. You will wed tomorrow." 

You watched in terror as the giant marched up to you, his hair hardly hiding the burns marring his face, scowl ever present. 

"But--"

"Didn't I tell you that I hated the sound of your voice?! You will hold your tongue, or I will cut out your father's."

The hound grabbed your shoulder roughly and you pressed back against it, trying to push his hand off. He growled and picked you up to throw you over his shoulder. You winced at the change in pressure for your throbbing head but kept your mouth as quiet as possible in fear of further punishment. The hound began walking off, until he snapped back around at the final words you heard from Joffrey. "Don't forget to break her in rough!"

You trembled in the hound's hold. His pace was quick, and your face burned with anger and shame as he paraded you about the halls of The Red Keep, marching you to God knows where. Servants looked at you with fear and sympathy clear in their faces and you let out a small, choked sob. 

Suddenly you were dropped down to your feet in front of a great door. The Hound opened it wordlessly and shoved you in. He quickly shut it again before you could say a word, and you heard the lock click into place. You bolted over to the small window and looked down. There was no hope of escaping. You tried to steady your breathing and made note of things around the room but there wasn't much. You walked slowly into the next room, a bathroom, and noticed your reflection in a very broken mirror. 

Your sobs racked your body when you studied your face, bloody, dirty, wet, worried. You crumpled down to the floor and rocked yourself back and forth as you cried. That night was spent alone, cowering in fear in the bathroom. The Hound never once walked back in. 

In the morning you blinked your eyes open in surprise when a woman entered the bedroom. "Miss (L/n)?" The strange woman called, scanning the room. She rushed over to the window, as if worried you had somehow thrown yourself out of it. You came up behind her, back still flush against the wall, and said "I'm here." She gasped and smiled softly, hand clutching her chest. 

"Goodness, you gave me a fright." You winced at her words, remembering your face. You could still feel your heartbeat in your nose, and your right eye's vision was smaller than your left; a result of the backhand you'd earned from Ser Merryn. 

"I-I'm here to help you dress for the day, Milady." She sensed your discomfort and matched it with her own. 

"I don't need help." You retorted rudely. 

"I don't make the rules, I only follow them. Queen Mother Cersei has instructed that the rules for today are to dress you, feed you, and prepare you for your wedding night."

Your heart thudded faster in your chest, and you tried not to let your panic show. "Very Well." No use in fighting. You loosened the ties on the back of your dress and she rushed over behind you. "Let me help." She insisted. You thought of your sister, who you would normally dress with, and wondered if you would ever see her again. You wondered if your father already had, or if he was dead or locked away too. Either way, for certain you knew you were now a prisoner. A forced marriage to a monstrous man awaited you. You bit your lip and breathed quickly through your nose. 

"Hey," the woman said, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder and walking around to face you. "It does not have to be so terrible..." She tried to make you feel better. "You are here, in one piece. That is more than can be said for those that came after you... You really pissed the King off yesterday, you know."

"Whatever suffering Joffrey caused after me was his own doing, not mine and I--"

"Milady, calm down. I am not blaming you for anything. No one should. You said what we've all thought one time or another..." She smiled softly at you and your brow twitched. "The King is a monster... But your husband does not have to be."

She continued on as she dressed you, informing you how easily men can be manipulated into softness by their women. "Your beauty and your gentleness are weapons against a dog like him. Even wild dogs enjoy being pet." She winked. 

You let out a noise between a laugh and a scoff. "I am to be, in the words of his Highness, broken in rough. By a man people call a mad dog. Whatever beauty I had cannot save me now. My gentleness will be my undoing." You said coldly. The girl shook her head.  "Perhaps... Come, there will be breakfast in the garden."

Over breakfast you got to know the servant girl, called Anna, deeper although it took a great effort as she was not used to talking about herself. She even made you smile in spite of yourself. You did not eat of your own accord, only when she would force food into your hand, and say that you would need your strength. 

"Do you know how it works?" Anna said after some silence.

"What?"

"Sex? Breaking in?" 

Your eyes widened and you looked around the garden for eavesdroppers. She didn't seem amused. You cleared your throat. "My father could be a very crass man. Unfortunately, I have seen the act firsthand, when he was keeping my sister awake one night. Still, he wanted to preserve me as best he could."

"So, you ARE a virgin?" She raised her brows. 

"Of course."

She brought her hands up to hold her face, as she looked almost embarrassed or nervous for you. "Well, if you can handle the hound, you should be able to handle anybody."

You reflected on his size and felt the heat return to your face. "I'm terrified..." You confided. "I don't know all the cruel things men can do, and I never wanted to..." Your eyes welled with tears and your hands began to clam up and shake. "Do you think he will kill me?" You choked out. 

Anna got on her knees before you and took her handkerchief and dabbed at your face. "Oh, my lady, no, no, he will not kill you. Joffrey has not ordered him to do so, so he will not."

"But he will be rough."

"Yes, I imagine even gentle sex is rough with him... I am so sorry, (y/n). I do not envy your position, but know that I will see you the next morning and help you wash his filth off of you... Just try to close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere else." 

You chuckled sadly and nodded. You took a deep breath and stood as you heard the large clock strike noon. You were to be married in 4 hours. You had to start getting ready. You grabbed Anna's hand tightly and followed her back to the room. 

Later, things flowed as expected. There was a girl to do your hair, and one to fit you into a simple wedding dress. You tried with what little makeup they provided to hide how swollen your face was and highlight your eyes. Father always said it was one of your best features. Every girl is meant to feel beautiful on her wedding day, and yet as you walked down the aisle to your husband in a suit of armor and King Joffrey holding back laughter, you felt like a true clown. You said your vows, and your husband grunted out his. It was only then during the ceremony that you learned your husband's true name: Sandor Clegane. And now you were Lady Clegane. 

You sat silently beside your husband at the wedding feast. No one came up to congratulate you, and you didn't want them to. This was, after all, a punishment. Eventually you heard the voice of your father pipe up from across the room. He was laughing with some other nobleman you'd never seen. You furrowed your brows in confusion and anger and stood abruptly, causing your husband to glance at you. You paid him no mind and instead walked across the room to find him. 

"Ah, (y/n)!" He was loud, drunk. You saw the bruising on his face. "You looked beautiful as always, my darling. A truly happy day!" He said, truly jovial. You scowled at him, wanted to hit him. 

"A happy day?" You asked, venom in your voice. "Do you have any idea what you've cursed me to?! Your stupidity, your pride, your--" "That's enough." He grabbed your wrist tightly. "You've cursed yourself, you insolent girl." He whispered angrily in your ear. "If you had only shut up and let me do the talking, maybe you would be home right now. Maybe your sister would not have to carry on your burdens!" 

You winced audibly and twisted your arm. Your father grabbed your face and turned you forward to look at your husband, who was already looking at you from across the room, expression truly unreadable. "Your tongue got you into this. Your fiery spirit... I've heard the hound LOVES fire." Truly, your father had never quite been this cruel to you. You must have truly embarrassed him. "You made your bed." He spat in your ear. "Now go and lie in it."

With that you were released and walked quickly back to your seat. Sandor's eyes followed you the entire way, but when you sat down beside him and tried to meet his eyes face-to-face, he turned his head away. You blew a sharp breath out through your nose in humiliation. Your eyes were then directed to his hands, the way he tore apart a leg of chicken, his large meaty fingers relentlessly prying. Your stomach flipped on its own and you tried to chug your wine. 

Later that evening, at the king's insistence, Clegane carried you bridal style all the way to your room as his laughter echoed behind you. You tried not to, but you were shaking like a leaf. Even the alcohol could not dull your nerves. He set you down gently inside the room and you walked slowly to the bed. There was a great silence after he closed the door and locked it. You took deep breaths and tried to remember all that Anna had told you to prepare you. He turned around to look at you and leaned back against the heavy wooden door, arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes raked over him. Truly, if he wasn't so terrifying, he might be attractive. You tried to list his positives.

Tall, strong, gruff voice, very likely well-endowed, loyal... Who he was loyal to was another issue entirely, but perhaps like Anna said, you could work him into your favor. His eyes focused on all the different parts of you.

You licked your lips in preparation of your speech, truly the first words you would ever speak to him outside of your wedding vows. 

"Would you like to take off my dress?" You asked meekly, reaching for the laces on the back yourself. 

His face hardened almost unnoticeably. It was very dark in the room, but you could still make out his expressions--deciphering them was another task entirely beyond you. 

"Aye. I would, actually." He spoke lowly. "Let's get this over with." He stepped quickly over to you, and you tried not to flinch. Your face almost collided with his chest plate as his hands made quick work on the dress at your back. A shiver ran down your spine at the closeness and you closed your eyes. Suddenly you felt him ball the fabric at your sides in his fist, he growled and tore the dress open. The sound of it ripping sent a shock wave through you and you gasped, hands coming up instinctively onto his hands to stop him. You looked up at him through your lashes in fear. ~My God, he IS rough.~

Your hands did nothing to stop him as he tore the dress down your sides, leaving you in your underclothes. 

"Shut up," he said gruffly. You stood in your sheer garment and your body tensed. He picked you up and threw you onto the bed. You yelped at this and finally felt the familiar prickling in our eyes. 

"Please" You begged for nothing. 

"Shut up, I said." He stood at the edge of the bed and looked only at your face. "Take that off." He ordered, and you dared not disobey. You pulled the dress off over your head and covered your breasts instinctively with your arms. Sandor Clegane, however, still, made no apparent effort to see your exposed body. 

Instead, he took the armor off of his arms and withdrew his sword from its keep at his waist. Your mouth opened in terror. 

He's going to kill me. He climbed onto the bed with you and grabbed the underdress you had discarded nearby. Then he surprised you again, taking his sword to his own forearm and cutting the top of it. You gasped as he started to poor blood. Your gentleness took over your confusion and fear and you reached out to him to try to stop the bleeding. He growled at you viciously and you retreated your hands. You watched him from the edge of the bed. He directed his blood flow to the crotch of your dress, and the proceeded to smear it around the bed. Your heart had never beat so fast, and you felt faint. 

He tossed your clothes aside and covered his wound, walking to the bathroom to wash it off. Your chest heaved, repeating the scene in your mind. 

~That was not sex.~

"W-What the hell was that?" You called out, still frozen on the bed. 

"Don't worry, girl. That's the most action you'll be getting from me."

You frowned; confusion only intensified. "B-But why?" You begged. 

He walked around the corner, revealing himself again. "You are a virgin, aren't you?" He asked, as though you were dumb. Perhaps you were dumb. "Ah hell, it doesn't matter. You'd bleed from ME even if you were a well-trained whore." 

He blew out snot onto the floor and proceeded to take the rest of his armor off in the bathroom. Your heartbeat steadily slowed to a somewhat normal pace. 

"They'll be coming in the morning to check the sheets. To see what all I've done to you." He said casually. 

"You won't touch me?" Your voice was still thick with apprehension. 

The Hound scoffed and sneered. "You think I want to?"

You blushed and covered yourself again as he finally looked you up and down. 

"Maybe I ought to..." He surprised you, and a lump formed in your throat. He approached slowly. Now that his armor was removed you could see him in his plain clothes; see and smell the sweat under his arms. The musk that emanated off of a man after a long day. You trembled and closed yourself up as much as you could without cowering. "Come here, girl." He mumbled and grabbed your ankle, pulling it toward him. You shouted weakly and slapped him, though he didn't flinch a bit. 

He was on top of you in an instant, legs closed in tight around your hips as he took both of your wrists easily in one of his own. He raised and pinned them up above your head on the bed and you whimpered, his face close to yours. The pace of your heart quickened again as you squirmed beneath him, but you did not yell, did not cry. He looked down at you, grip becoming bruising on your wrists. You moaned in pain, and he scrunched his face up at the sight of you. 

"Look at me, bitch!" He demanded, a bit of spit flying from his mouth onto yours. 

"I am!" You called back, eyes locked onto his face. He took your throat in his other hand while the rest of his body kept you powerless against him. 

"What do you see?!" His voice was bellowing, and his eyes glared down at you. "A monster--"

"My Husband!" You answered, simultaneously. His hard expression broke and his grip on your neck loosened, though truthfully it wasn't tight to begin with. He pulled himself back from you a bit, slowly, and his eyes left yours to drift over the sheets. "I know you don't know me, don't like me. Hurt me if you have to! But you're my husband now, the only man I'll ever have, and I intend to make the best of it..."

His face twisted into a grimace and his hand on your throat tightened again, making it difficult to breathe. 

"I'm not your husband, you stupid little girl." He chided. "I'm your damnation! I am your life sentence, but you are not mine. Weak little girls don't last long around here, especially when they don't know when to shut the fuck up!" His words were harsh, but his voice was low, like he didn't want anyone else to hear but you. 

Your eyes studied his face as he let you go. He got off of you quickly and sat at the side of the bed. You stayed laying down for a while, silently counting your blessings. 

"If you are a monster, why did you hurt yourself instead of me?" You couldn't hold it in any longer. "Monsters don't know sacrifice..."

He side-eyed you, breathing through his mouth like a true brute. You sat up, rubbing your wrists together to soothe them. "You don't want to hurt me."

"You want me to hurt you MORE, is that it? You crazy, stupid, fucking cunt." He shook his head. 

"I don't want more pain... But, am I..." You looked down at yourself, then residing to cover yourself with your underdress once again, as bloodied as it was. You were feeling incredibly insecure, something you weren't accustomed to. You turned heads, made men and women and children smile at just the sight of you, and even you yourself thought you were above average all dolled up for the big day. He made you feel ugly without saying a word. 

Imagine that. Someone deformed like him and a supposed beauty like you, joined in matrimony. And he will not touch you. Does not want to touch you. In that moment you felt so much smaller than he. You sighed, feeling more comfortable now that you were covered. You looked him in the eyes until he was staring back at you. 

"I am sorry that you are punished with me... I realize you also had no choice in this marriage, and well..." You trailed off, not even sure where you were going with this. "You have been kind. And dutiful, and loyal to your king in spite of the monstrous little shit that he is." You tested, seeing if he would hurt you further. Instead, you saw the smallest crack of a smirk pull on his lips. You looked down abashedly. "I will do my best to be a good partner to you, in whatever capacity you need me..."

He said nothing for the longest time, and you looked up at him once again, in curiosity. He was studying your face in the moonlight. "Are you quite fucking finished?" You nodded quickly. "You talk too much." He chided. 

You couldn't believe it. You breathed out a laugh and he rolled his eyes. He stood and pulled one of the fur blankets off of the bed. 

"Maybe try sleeping in the bed tonight instead of the room I shit in."

You blushed and furrowed your brows at him as he crouched down on the floor, smoothing out the blanket as if it were bedding. Your mouth gaped as he laid down on the floor, closing his eyes. 

"Ser, this is--" "My Lord. It's my lord, when people hear you talking to me, that's what you say. I'm not a ser and I never will be. I ain't no fucking knight..." He paused licking his lips. "But now I'm your husband. To Joffrey and everyone else in the Red Keep, that's what I am. In this room, with me, you can speak freely. Call me what I am. A dog." You leaned over the bed, studying him as he spoke with his eyes closed. He looked so vulnerable down there. "Just don't go on and on." He chided again. 

"Get some sleep. I won't touch ya."

You wanted to speak, but did not know what to say. He rolled over anyways, his back towards you. Finally, you resolved to lie on your back. You closed your eyes and truly believed he would not touch you. You had no fear of it throughout the night. 

The strangest thing, however, was your desire for it. Your dreams that night twisted reality.

~ You were back in that bed, Sandor on top of you, barking down in his usual dog way. Wrists in his grasp, breathing controlled by his pressure on your throat. Your mind, however, changed his form to sink his mouth down onto yours. He swallowed your moans with his kisses and his hand went from your throat to your pert breasts. He squeezed and groaned into your mouth. Finally, he released your hands, and they went straight to his hair, pressing his kiss even harder into yours. "Call me husband again!" He growled when he pulled away, string of saliva connecting you. ~

"Lady Clegane, are you hurt badly?" Anna's voice woke you and you sat up quickly in bed. You watched her rush over to your bedside, and you nearly warned her to avoid stepping on Sandor, but you quickly realized his blanket was back on the bed and he was nowhere to be found. 

"Hmm, what?" You asked, still confused. 

"You were whimpering in your sleep!" Anna explained, looking over you. She gasped lightly at the sight of your neck. "Oh my lady, I am so sorry." She grabbed your hands and slowly led you to the bathroom, where you saw a tub steaming. "It's always the worst the first time, remember. But boy, he really did a number on you." She lifted the dress up over your head slowly, leaving you naked. "I'll launder these with the sheets, My Lady." 

You watched her carry your bloody dress away and found yourself in the broken mirror again. You saw the bruising around your neck and almost felt a thrill. To everyone else, your husband had set up quite the convincing show, and yet he kept your dignity intact. As you slipped into the bath and Anna droned on about the day, trying to distract you, you wondered if Sandor Clegane would ever touch you in the true ways husbands touch their wives. You wondered deeper, why you suddenly wanted him to.

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART VI

—echoes of desperation

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst!!! cursing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. asshole!pedro maybe? no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hi everyone, happy reading <3

masterlist!

October 19, 2019

Newport, Rhode Island

The crisp autumn air greeted you as you arrived at your friend Jennifer's wedding. The historic estate, bathed in the soft golden light of the setting sun, seemed like the perfect backdrop for such a special occasion. The large, opulent estate, adorned with seasonal flowers and fairy lights, buzzed with the excited chatter of guests.

Daniel was by your side, his arm casually draped around your waist. You’d opted for a classic blue dress, elegant and understated, which seemed to enhance the sparkle in your eyes and the quiet grace in your movements.

Jennifer greeted you with her usual infectious energy and a hug that felt like a balm to your nerves. “You two! I’m so glad you could make it!”

The ceremony had taken place 40 minutes earlier, outside in the estate's lush garden, under a canopy of white roses and twinkling lights. And now the reception was in full swing. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air.

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed your wedding for the world," you replied, returning her hug. "Everything looked amazing, and you were absolutely stunning in that dress."

She beamed at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Congratulations, Jen," Daniel said, raising his champagne flute. You looked at him, his brown eyes shining with genuine happiness, and smiled. Jennifer took notice of this and grabbed your hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. "Thank you both so much for being here," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "And who knows, maybe you two will be next to tie the knot."

Both of you laughed at the suggestion, but you couldn't help but feel a warm flutter in your chest at the thought. A strange warm flutter, something you haven't felt in months; sadness, perhaps?

No, it couldn't be.

For the past six months, everything with Daniel has been nothing but perfect. He's been the perfect boyfriend: supportive, caring, and always there for you. You couldn't imagine being with anyone else right now. So the idea of marrying him didn't seem too far-fetched at all. On the contrary, it made perfect sense. So this feeling of unexplicable warmth and ache must've been nerves and excitement, nothing else.

The time for your speech arrived, and you took a deep breath as you were handed a microphone. The room fell into a respectful hush, the chatter and clinking glasses fading as the guests turned their attention to you. You glanced around, taking in the elegant decor and the sea of faces, many of whom you recognized. The soft, golden light from the chandeliers cast a warm glow over the gathering, and the atmosphere was filled with anticipation.

You adjusted the microphone slightly, feeling its cool metal against your fingers. You didn’t feel nervous; instead, a calm confidence washed over you. After all, you were good at this—pretending you were the best.

“Good evening, everyone,” you began, your voice clear and steady as you introduced yourself. "I have the distinct honor of speaking about our beautiful bride tonight.”

The crowd responded with polite applause, and you smiled, taking a moment to find your rhythm. "Jennifer," you continued, “where do I even begin? From the moment I met her, I knew

she was someone extraordinary. It’s not just her infectious laugh or her incredible talent that stands out, but her heart. Jennifer has a way of making everyone feel like they’re the most important person in the room.”

A soft chuckle rippled through the audience, and you saw Jennifer’s cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. You continued, weaving in anecdotes about your friendship, each story punctuated by a touch of humor and warmth. Laughter filled the room, and you finally caught Pedro’s eye momentarily. He was sitting at a table near the front, his gaze soft and attentive. The first time you saw him that night was when you arrived at the ceremony; he was already deep in conversation with someone.

You couldn’t quite read his expression, but you felt a flicker of emotion as your eyes met for a brief second. As you moved towards the more emotional part of your speech, your tone grew softer and more reflective.

The room cheered and applauded as you wrapped up your speech. Jennifer got to her feet and walked to the front, her eyes glistening with emotion. You stepped down feeling a sense of relief. The reception continued with lively music and dancing. You and Daniel enjoyed the evening, laughing and dancing with the other guests.

The joy of the celebration was palpable, but it couldn’t completely erase the tension you felt every time you glanced in Pedro’s direction. Exhausted from all the drinking and dancing and seeking a brief reprieve, you excused yourself to the bathroom.

"I'll be right back."

You give Daniel a quick kiss, his hands coming to rest on your waist.

"All good, baby?"

"Marvelous," you reply before slipping away from the crowd and into the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom. Its marble countertops gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, the delicate scent of lavender soap mingling with the faint aroma of champagne and floral bouquets from the reception. You stood by the sink, staring at your reflection in the polished mirror, your fingers tracing the edge of the elegant marble as if it could ground you amidst the chaos of your emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the flutter of unexpected anxiety in your chest.

The silence was briefly interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

Well, so much for peace and quiet.

The door creaked open, and Pedro walked in with his usual confident stride, albeit slightly unsteady. His suit was pristine, the dark fabric impeccably tailored to his frame. Yet the disheveled state of his dark hair and the slightly rumpled collar of his shirt betrayed a night of indulgence. The contrast between his polished exterior and the evident effects of alcohol made him appear both charming and vulnerable.

Pedro’s eyes softened as they settled on you, taking in the sight of your dress—a stunning creation that clung to your form in all the right places, the deep hue accentuating your features. He stepped closer, his gaze lingering with an almost palpable mix of admiration and regret.

"I was looking for you," he said, his voice low and filled with a hint of longing. "And I saw you come in."

He locked the door behind him, the click echoing in the quiet room.

“You look incredible,” he said, his voice carrying the telltale tone of someone who had enjoyed a few too many drinks. “But then again, you always do.”

The compliment hung in the air, unacknowledged. You kept your focus on the sink, pretending to be absorbed in the intricate patterns of the marble. Pedro’s gaze remained fixed on you, sensing your reluctance and frustration.

“Not going to say anything? I come all the way in here to tell you how amazing you look, and you give me nothing,” he said, his tone a fragile blend of irritation and desperation. The words cut through the silence, revealing the cracks in his façade.

You remained silent, and the quiet only seemed to fuel his frustration. Pedro leaned against the wall, his posture both defiant and defeated. His eyes were filled with a mix of sadness and exasperation, reflecting the weight of the emotions he struggled to keep in check.

“What’s with the silent treatment?” he pressed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “We used to talk about everything, and now you can’t even respond to a compliment?”

The tension crackled like electricity in the confined space. Pedro’s dark and aching eyes betrayed the vulnerability he usually masked with confidence. He took a step closer, closing the distance between you with a sense of urgency.

“Is this how it’s going to be, then?” he asked, his voice a tremulous echo of desperation. “We’re just going to ignore each other until it all blows over again? pretending like everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.”

His proximity made your heart race; the warmth of his body and the intensity of his stare were both electrifying and suffocating. The room, once a refuge of privacy, now felt like a cage closing in on you, amplifying the emotional turmoil swirling between you.

"If I remember correctly, we already had this conversation," you finally said, your voice steady. “You come and go as you please, and then you act like nothing happened. How am I supposed to handle that?”

Pedro’s eyes filled with regret as he reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as they touched your arm.

"I’ve been trying to move on, like you told me to, but it’s impossible when you’re always on my mind." His touch was hesitant, the warmth of his hand a stark contrast to the coldness you felt inside.

As the minutes ticked by, the two of you remained locked in this intense, silent exchange. The muffled sounds of the party outside felt like distant echoes, drowned out by the gravity of your shared history and unresolved feelings.

Pedro’s eyes, dark and glassy from the alcohol, bore into yours as he closed the distance, his body pressing lightly against you. You could feel the heat of him, the scent of whiskey clinging to his breath, mixing with something familiar—him. Your pulse quickened, the rush of emotions swirling uncontrollably as you met his gaze.

“You’re drunk,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out softer than you intended. The barrier you’d built so carefully maintained was beginning to crumble under the weight of his presence.

“And you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his breath grazing your skin. The way he said it, with that low, gravelly voice, made your heart stutter.

You wanted to hold onto the anger, to remind yourself of the hurtful words exchanged and the distance you had fought so hard to maintain, but his nearness was intoxicating. The warmth of his body, the brush of his fingertips against your arm—it was all too much. His scent, the alcohol, his desperation—it clouded your judgment, making everything hazy.

His gaze flickered over your face, searching for something you couldn’t name. “Do you love him?” he asked, and though he didn’t say Daniel’s name, the weight of the question nearly took your breath away.

You froze, refusing to answer, instead turning your head to the side, your eyes seeking solace in the marble counter or the door—anywhere but him. But Pedro, in his drunken determination, wouldn’t let you escape so easily. He gently tilted your chin up, forcing you to face him, his fingers warm against your skin.

“Look at me,” he whispered, the words barely a breath. “Tell me.”

Your eyes, betraying you, flickered to his, and in that moment, you felt everything unraveling. The years of history, the on-and-off again, the unsaid things—they crashed over you, threatening to drown you in their intensity.

“Pedro,” you managed, your voice shaky. “You’re drunk. Stop it.”

He ignored you, his eyes locked on yours, filled with a rawness that made it impossible to turn away. “No,” he insisted, his voice low and thick with emotion. “Answer me.”

The weight of his words pressed against your chest, squeezing the air from your lungs. You could feel your eyes starting to burn, the overwhelming need to cry pushing at the edges of your control. His touch was maddening—pulling memories to the surface that you’d spent so long trying to bury.

“Tell me, princesa,” he said, his voice barely a whisper now, the nickname slipping from his lips like a plea. “Do you love him?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. The question lingered between you, suffocating the space; the answer too painful, too heavy to voice.

Finally, the words came, slow and trembling, barely louder than a breath. “I don’t know.”

The admission hung in the air, fragile and heartbreaking, and you could see the way it struck him, deep and unguarded. For a brief second, his hand dropped from your chin, and the look in his eyes—the sorrow, the regret—cut through you like a blade.

But still, he didn’t move. Neither did you. The gravity of everything left unsaid, everything unresolved, weighed too heavily, pulling you both into a moment from which there was no easy escape.

“Would it change something if I said no?” you asked, your voice sharp, cutting through the charged air between you both. The words were cold, edged with bitterness, the hurt simmering just beneath the surface.

Pedro’s reaction was instant—he grabbed your face with both hands, rougher than usual, though not enough to hurt. You didn't feel afraid; he could never make you feel as such. His grip was desperate, trembling slightly with the weight of everything unspoken. His eyes, though hazy from alcohol, searched yours with an intensity that made your heart pound harder. He was trying to find an answer, a way to salvage something, but you weren’t done.

“Would it change something, Pedro?” you pressed, your voice rising as you spit out the words like venom. “Would it? If I said no, would that make all of this—" you motioned between the two of you, your chest tight “—would it make this easier? What if I told you I don't love him? What if I told you I still think about you all the time? What would you do?”

Each question hit him like a physical blow, and you could see the pain etching itself deeper into his face with every 'what if' you hurled at him. He didn’t respond, but his grip on your face tightened, as if he could somehow hold onto you through the force of his hands alone. His silence only fueled your fire.

“No,” you finally said, your voice trembling but firm, “it wouldn’t matter because you're too late, Pedro. It wouldn’t change a damn thing. You think saying something now and asking me these questions will make up for all the times you left, all the times you didn’t say anything? We’re broken. And it’s too late to fix it.”

Pedro's breath was uneven as his fingers dug into your skin, not with malice but with a desperation you hadn’t seen in him before. His face crumpled for a brief second, his lips parting like he was about to say something—something big, something important—and you stopped him.

"Don't. Don't say it, not now," you whispered. "It wouldn't change a thing, so don't."

You were suffocating under him, until a sudden banging on the door jolted you both out of the moment. A voice called from the other side, followed by impatient knocks.

“Let me go,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. The words were for more than just this moment. You needed him to release you—not just physically. But in that bathroom, right then, it felt like the only thing you could control.

Pedro didn’t move at first, his hands still gripping your face as if he couldn’t quite let go. His thumbs grazed your skin, and for a moment you saw the flash of something behind his eyes—fear, maybe, or regret—but then it passed, replaced by the same helplessness that had filled the space between you for years.

“Let me go, please,” you said again, softer this time, but it felt like more than a request. It was the final thread holding the two of you together, and cutting it felt both terrifying and necessary.

His hands slowly dropped, the warmth of his touch leaving your skin cold in an instant. It felt appropriate, almost painfully so, that this was how it ended—here, in a bathroom at a wedding, with a banging door and the realization that no matter how much you wanted it, there was no going back.

You turned away, your body trembling, unsure if it was from the confrontation or the emotional weight pressing down on your chest. The moment felt fragile, like something you needed to step away from before it shattered completely.

You weren’t sure if it was the right decision, but in that moment, it felt like the only one you could make because someone else was involved now, and the consequences of continuing down that path were too great to bear.

November 10, 2019

Los Angeles, CA

Pedro’s day had started much like any other, but there was an added weight hanging over him, like the prelude to something significant. He woke up to the sound of light rain tapping against his windows, a rare occurrence in LA and a subtle reminder of the calm before the real storm—the Mandalorian premiere later that evening. He spent some time with his nephews, who had flown in for the event. They were excited about the premiere, already talking about how "cool" their uncle looked as The Mandalorian—though he couldn't show them much yet.

The early afternoon was a blur of preparations: phone calls from his team, final wardrobe checks, and trying to keep his mind from wandering too much into places he didn’t want it to go. Places that involved you.

He chose a classic black suit with a beige shirt, effortlessly tailored—the kind of look that made him feel composed, even when he wasn’t. The nerves were creeping in.

As the car pulled up to the red carpet, Pedro felt the energy shift—flashes of cameras, the buzz of fans, all converging in one chaotic, yet intoxicating, atmosphere. His nephews were with him, their excitement helping ground him. For them, this was magic; for him, it was part of the job. But he couldn’t deny the thrill of it—the anticipation of seeing the first episode on the big screen with an audience.

And then, there you were.

You stepped onto the carpet in a buttery yellow dress that made you look radiant—warm, untouchable, yet familiar in a way that left him breathless for a moment. The dress was soft and flowing, but the way you held yourself was sharp, like you had an invisible armor. He could tell you avoided looking at him at first, but when the group photos began, there was no choice but to stand next to each other, cameras clicking, people cheering. You posed for pictures together, smiling for the crowd, playing your parts.

Pedro could feel the space between you—so small, yet it felt like a chasm. The cameras didn’t catch that. He stole a glance at you as you laughed at something the director said during the photo op. You looked happy, at ease. He wondered if you were.

Inside the theater, the atmosphere was electric. The cast and crew gathered on stage for a brief panel discussion before the screening. Dave talked about the legacy of Star Wars and Jon about the vision of the show. Pedro listened, nodding along, just grateful for the opportunity to be a part of it all.

When it was your turn to speak, he watched you, waiting, unsure of what you’d say. Your voice was steady, confident as always, but then your words shifted.

You spoke about him.

“Pedro is... well, he’s a scene-stealer, as you’ve all seen from the trailers,” you joked, earning laughter from the audience. “But seriously, finally working with him has been one of the highlights of my career. His dedication, his talent, his kindness—it’s inspiring. I’m lucky to share this with him, and I hope we get to keep doing this for a long time.”

Pedro’s heart swelled at your words. He wasn’t sure if you meant it or if you were just saying what the audience wanted to hear. But for that moment, he let himself believe it was the truth. That you did still care, even in this small, professional way. But then again, this was your new normal—co-workers, partners on-screen, and nothing more.

December 25th, 2019

Perth, Australia

Christmas in Perth was like stepping into another world, a sun-drenched, easy-going atmosphere that felt miles away from the traditional snowy scenes of the holiday season. Daniel’s family welcomed you with open arms, not that you were expecting any less. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, fresh seafood, and eucalyptus from the trees outside, creating a kind of domestic vibe that you hadn't realized you craved until you were in the middle of it.

Daniel was relaxed too—his racing season over for a few weeks now; he was finally at ease, the stress that usually clung to him gone. You spent every moment together, just soaking in each other’s presence. He even traveled with you to your last film shoot, attending your workdays like you had attended some of his races, a seamless give-and-take in your relationship that made everything feel, well, easy.

It was bliss.

On Christmas Day, after the exchange of gifts and an extravagant lunch, you received a call from your mom. You sat on the veranda, watching the cicadas buzz lazily in the midday heat, and spoke to her about how things were. She asked about Daniel, about his family, and about how you were doing with everything. You promised to visit soon, reassuring her that you were fine, happy, even.

But later, as you scrolled through Instagram, something pulled you out of that happiness, if only for a moment. A post from the Rise of Skywalker premiere a couple of days ago, you assume—a photo of Pedro and Oscar standing side by side, their smiles broad, their laughter captured perfectly in the shot. Pedro, inexplicably, was wearing... pajamas? Or maybe a robe? It was such a bizarre choice, so utterly him, that you couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the sight of it. The sound surprised you, breaking through the blanket of serenity you'd wrapped around yourself. But the pang that followed was sharper, unexpected. You scrolled past quickly, trying to ignore the ache it left behind.

•••

As New Year's Eve approached, the festive atmosphere grew louder, more carefree. You found yourself caught in the whirl of it all—the parties, the lights, the endless laughter—but always with Daniel by your side. On the night itself, amidst the dancing and celebrations with his family and friends, you received a call from Oscar and his wife. They both wished you a happy new year, their voices warm and full of affection. You exchanged pleasantries, caught up for a few minutes, until Oscar, in his usual thoughtful way, asked gently, “Have you heard from him?”

You paused, knowing exactly who he meant. “No, not really,” you said, your voice steady, but there was a crack in it that even you could hear. “But it’s okay.”

Oscar hesitated on the other end. You could feel his discomfort, the weight of watching two people he cared about drift into something neither of you could quite name. “I’m sorry,” you told him quietly, not sure why. Your words were soft, almost lost in the noise of the party around you.

“It’s no one’s fault,” he said, trying to comfort you, but it didn’t land quite right. There was a shared understanding, though—one that didn’t need words.

The conversation ended soon after, and you returned to the celebration, but it felt like a weight had settled back onto your chest, one that hadn't fully disappeared, no matter how much love surrounded you.

Later that night, as the party raged on downstairs, you and Daniel snuck away to your room, laughing softly as you closed the door behind you. The moment between you shifted quickly, from playful to urgent, as his hands found your skin and yours found his. It was quick, hot sex—an eruption of need in the midst of celebration. Afterward, he whispered, “Happy New Year,” his breath warm against your ear, and you nestled into his arms, letting yourself be wrapped in the comfort of his embrace.

But as you lay there, the world outside falling quiet, that familiar ache gnawed at your chest again. No matter how happy you seemed or how full your life felt, the longing never fully disappeared. It clung to you, a ghost from the past, waiting in the shadows for moments like this to remind you it was still there.

You wished, as you lay in Daniel’s arms, for the ache to go away with the old year. To leave behind all that hurt, all the unanswered questions, and move forward into the new year with nothing but joy.

But deep down, you knew that wasn’t how it worked.

a/n: a like, reblog or comment, anything is very much appreciated <3 next part coming very soon!!

[stevenssacrab]

Green Is Your Color

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: Dressed in green lingerie you have one mission, make Wanda beg.

Rating: 18+ smut (minors, do not interact)

Warnings: Dry humping, swearing, nipple play, oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), sex toys (vibrator, dildo), orgasm denial, bratty Wanda, dom reader, squirting.

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: 2.7k?! Sheeesh never thought I'd do it, Wanda is my weakness ladies and germs, hope y'all enjoy!

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

"You're total today is $60 even," spoke the cashier at Victoria's Secret; you visibly cringed; you usually wouldn't spend this much on an item, but you wanted to surprise Wanda with something a little sexy; you paid with a smile, you can't wait to see the look on her face when she sees you in it. You open your door, anxiety creeping within you. Wanda should be home in a little while, just enough time to shower and dress; the entire shower, your nerves were getting the best of you.

"What if she doesn't like it?" you questioned internally, styling your hair in voluminous, bouncy curls; you sighed anxiously, blending the eyeshadow carefully. You were aiming for sultry bedroom eyes, something that would lure Wanda and turn her into putty before your very eyes; she's always taken the more dominant role in the bedroom. Tonight, your goal was to get her to beg for it, a challenging mission, you know that, and still, you had hope; you had a couple of tricks up your sleeve to achieve your goal; slowly, you massage your vanilla-scented lotion into your skin, sighing contently, inhaling the scent, vanilla always reminded you of your first date with Wanda and how nervous you were, and the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, the way your heart skipped a beat when you saw her for the first time, you've always known that Wanda was beautiful, she handled everything with grace, a force to be reckoned with, part of you was scared that you weren't going to be enough for her, in your opinion you were nothing special just, like every other average human. Still, she never made you feel that way, not even for a second.

You slipped into a mid-thigh length dark green silk dress with high slits that stopped at your waist, no panties, of course; you slipped on stilettos, and you ran your eyes over the whole ensemble one last time; you folded over, fluff up your roots for more volume, spray yourself with your vanilla bean perfume, and run your hands over the dress, smoothing out any imperfections, jingling of keys and dull footsteps fill your ears, "she's home" you uttered to yourself.

"Baby? Are you home?" concern layered in Wanda's voice; your bedroom door creaks open, "Baby?" she asks again.

"I'm here," you call out, trusting your nerves can't be heard through your voice, "I'll be right out, almost finished," quickly trying to straighten up the bathroom. You're stalling, but you don't care.

"Don't worry, baby, take your time," she voiced; you could practically hear the smile on her face; you sighed and attempted to shake off your nerves.

"She's gonna love it, she loves you, it'll be great," you chanted to yourself like a mantra and reached for the door handle and pulled before you could second guess yourself; your eyes land on Wanda sitting on the bed, aimlessly scrolling through her phone, she hasn't noticed you yet, you step forward.

"Hey baby, did you-" Wanda speaks, flicking her head to look at you; she met your eyes first, then flicked down; she widens her eyes slightly, raking her eyes over you slowly, observing and trying to memorize every detail, from the black stilettos that you know she loves, to the sexy eye makeup that puts her in a trance, hypnotized by the way the high slits elongates your legs, watching you intently, chin low, eyes hooded. You walk closer, one foot in front of the other, hips swaying with each step; you stop directly in front of Wanda, gently placing your hands on her shoulders; you smile down at her. Wanda breathes through her mouth, tongue dancing along her bottom lip; you slowly climb into Wanda's lap and groan softly when Wanda's hands grip your waist, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.

"Mmm, you look so good," Wanda groaned in between feverous kisses, moving her lips to your neck, sucking dark circles into your skin; you moaned softly, tilting your head back, "What's the occasion?" Wanda asked, nibbling gently at the skin; you squeak happily, caressing the back of her head.

"Nothing, I just wanted to surprise you," you spoke breathlessly, lightly grinding your bare pussy against the rough fabric of Wanda's jeans, "do you like it?" you hummed, running your hands under Wanda's jacket, sliding it off.

"You should surprise me more often," she teased, gliding her hands under the dress and squeezing your ass, helping you grind into her slowly; you grip her shoulders, shamelessly grinding into her; Wanda gently traces her fingers up your arm; stopping at the straps of the dress and pulls them down over your shoulders, exposing your tits to the cold air, Wanda doesn't miss how you shiver, she cups them massaging them roughly she brings her head down, flicking her tongue over the bud, you whimper, watching opened mouth, she grins and captures your bud, sucking gently, she looks up at you innocently, you groan, rutting against her quickly you feel your orgasm building up, Wanda moans around your nipple, rolling your free nipple between her fingers, you moan loudly, picking up speed, you're so close.

"Oh god, I'm so close," you plead, eyes screwed shut, rubbing your clit against the denim; Wanda lightly nibbles your nipple, sending you over the edge; you cum hard, hips bucking wildly into her, digging your nails into Wanda's shoulders, when you open your eyes Wanda is looking at you with dark, hungry eyes, if looks could kill you'd be long gone, you gently push her back to the bed, her legs hanging over the edge of the bed, you climbed off her, your dress hanging on by your hips, you sit on the floor, resting on your heels, you unbutton Wanda's pants and lean forward to pull the zipper down with your teeth, looking up to her innocently, Wanda rest on her elbows, watching you closely, licking her lips slowly, you smile up at her mischievously, lazily dragging her pants down, littering kisses all the way down her legs, you slide your hands up her legs to her clothed pussy, you can already see a wet spot, you find her clit even with her panties on and slowly rub circles, watching Wanda's reaction, she sighs contently, giving herself over to you, you lick a hard stripe up her pussy, Wanda groans frustrated, shes over the barrier muffling the sensations, you smile and move her panties to the side exposing her swollen bud, you lean forward and blow cool air onto her wet pussy, Wanda groans, annoyed you won't give her what she wants, you press your tongue against her clit, gently kitten licking, still not delivering fully, she bucks her hips in search for more pressure but you pull back.

"Uh uh," you say with a smirk, slowly leaning back in and licking harder than before. She groans loudly, throwing her head back; she bucks her hips up shamelessly; you grip her hips and hold her still.

"We do this my way, or we don't do this at all," you say confidently, rubbing circles into her skin; she looks up at you in disbelief, under the impression that she would lead like always; she lets out a disgruntled groan and falls back onto the bed in defeat, you kiss her pussy "good girl, behave and maybe I'll let you cum on my tongue" you spoke, your lips capture her clit gently and suck, not nearly enough for her to cum, but enough for her to feel good, Wanda obediently holds her hips still, taking heed of your warning, you reward her good behavior with a particularly hard suckle, she gasps and closes her legs around your head, you moan, satisfied and pry her legs open, still suckling roughly, Wanda buries her hand in your hair and bucks her hips onto your tongue, you groan disapprovingly and smack her hand away, "don't make me tie you down," you say darkly, slapping her sensitive clit lightly, she whimpered loudly.

"I'll behave," she said agitatedly; you hook your fingers in her underwear and pull them down; she picks her feet up onto the bed, opening her legs, displaying her wet pussy for your eyes only; you lick your lips slowly and attach your lips to her clit, sucking roughly, running your teeth along her clit gently, she moans and quivers, trying her absolute hardest to hold still, you look up at her, she has her eyes tightly closed, fists clenched, knuckles turning white, you almost feel bad, she's trying so hard to behave, you reward her by sliding your finger inside, pumping slowly, you groan, it was so easy pushing in, not a hint of resistance, you curl your finger in search for that bundle of nerves, a moan rips from Wanda’s throat, her legs shake violently, you found the spot, you slowly pump your finger hitting it each time, Wanda is a quivering mess at your mercy and she wouldn’t have it any other way, arching her back, she speaks.

“Ugh, fuck, just like that,” Wanda barks through gritted teeth; grinding down onto your finger; the way her walls spasm around your finger, you can tell she's close; suddenly, you cease all movement and watch Wanda greedily try to fuck herself; Wanda moans frustratedly; you smile and reach under the bed and pull out a pink vibrator, Wanda’s face drops, she's in for it, and she knows it, your face twist in an evil grin and climb on the bed, seating yourself next to her, you flick on the toy and part her pussy lips and press the toy directly on her clit, Wanda cries out loudly; she grips your thigh tightly, looking at you, pleading without saying a word, you set the toy higher, she moans, digging her fingernails into your thigh.

"Fuck, don't stop," she pleads; you knew she would have a firm resolve; you had hoped that she crack by now, you set the toy even higher, and Wanda opens her mouth in a silent scream, determined to get her to break, you slide three fingers inside, curling your fingers expertly, hitting that sweet spot you know drives her crazy, she lets out a scream so loud you're sure she's going to lose her voice, bucking her hips, fucking herself onto your fingers, " mmm so close, I'm gonna cum," she grips the sheets braces for impact. Still, you lift the toy and pull your fingers out; Wanda growls loudly, "What the fuck?!" she booms, looking at you angrily.

"Just say the magic word," you tease; she knits her brows, confused for only a second, and then her face twists mischievously.

"No, make me," she bites back, smirking smugly.

"With pleasure," cockiness dripping off your voice, setting the toy to its highest, pressing it to her clit brutally, "OH!" she moans deafeningly, arching her back off the mattress; you sneer, rubbing the toy in circles; moans pouring out of her, she watches you abuse her clit cruelly, "fuck, so close," she squeals, you push in 2 fingers aiming straight for the g-spot, forcing her to the edge, viciously, you want her as close as possible so you can deny her, Wanda's moans growing louder and louder, blatantly grinding against the toy desperate to cum, and right when she's about to go over the edge, you pull away, smirking when she throws her head back against the mattress.

"Give up?" you asked, raising your brow. Wanda scoffs, "Never, do your worst," she hisses back.

"Suit yourself," you snarl, pulling out an 8-inch dildo. Wanda's face drops; she looks at you, panicked, her eyes flicking between you and the dildo, shaking her head slightly, "What happened? Cat got your tongue?" you asked egotistically, crawling like a predator stalking their prey; you set the toy to low and apply light pressure to her abused clit, Wanda sighs contently, closing her eyes blissfully, unsatisfied with her peace of mind, you slowly slide the tip of the dildo in, Wanda's eyes snap open, you smile and push the toy in deeper, Wanda groans, the stretch stings deliciously, you both moan as you bottom out, Wanda's chest rises and falls steadily, fully engrossed in all the sensations you're providing her, setting the vibrator higher Wanda reacts instantly, gripping the bedsheets, massaging her tits over her shirt, she mewls lifting her hips off the mattress, that familiar coil tightening, you pick up the pace, fucking her pussy quickly, she frustratedly rips her shirt off and pulls her bra down, exposing her tits, she's desperately pinching at her nipples, lips trapped between her teeth, you angle the toy, masterfully hit her spot, she moans loudly, clenching around the dildo, not slowing down, you ask.

"Ready to beg?" fucking her senselessly, Wanda cries out; she tries to answer, but every time she opens her mouth, you thrust the toy, and all that comes out is grunts and groans of pleasure; you set the toy higher and said "answer me," Wanda whimpers loudly, she's been dancing along the edge for so long, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, "no," she hissed defiantly through clenched teeth, "oh?" you questioned, setting the toy to the highest level, Wanda screams, thrashing about, you stop, "ready now?" you teased, "no," Wanda repeated, you turn the toy back on and fuck her ruthlessly, Wanda sobs loudly, tears in her eyes, she looks at you brows knitted together, "I'm-" she squeaks out, "yes baby?" you ask mockingly, still, you keep thrusting into her pussy mercilessly, she opens her mouth and attempts to say something, but all that comes out is whimpers and whines, she pants and watches mouth ajar as the dick disappears in her, you stop, "ready?"

"N-no," she spoke, voice strained, fists clenched; you scoff, turn the toy back on and ram the dildo back in fucking her mind-numbingly fast; a sob rips through Wanda's throat, all she can do is lay there and take it all, she doesn't have the energy to move, "I- so close," Wanda pants out, you pull back, and Wanda whines loudly "no! please I, please let me cum, I’m sorry, please" Wanda pleaded, eyes filling with tears, her lip quivering, you lean down and kiss her forehead. "It's okay, baby," you whisper affectionately and turn the vibrator on high, "Yes!" Wanda moans loudly; as you pump the dick in and out savagely, Wanda is reduced to a blubbering mess, babbling nonsense; the mascara she had on is running down her cheeks; her mouth hangs open, whines and whimpers spilling out before she can stop them. "Please, I'm so close," she weeps, her face contorted in bliss, her body shaking violently. You change the angle of the toy, and Wanda whines loudly; she cums, mouth open in a silent scream, her vision going white, ringing in her ears, gripping the bedsheets so hard it's coming off the corners; you slowly fuck Wanda through it, ceasing when she whimpers in pain.

"Oh my god," Wanda breathes, scoffing in disbelief; she picks her head up, looking at you, smiling from ear to ear, "that was amazing; I loved it," she laughs, sitting up on her elbows, "green is definitely your color."

"I can tell; look at the mess you made," you chuckle, gesturing to the end of the mattress. Wanda looks at you like you have two heads before looking down; there's a big wet spot between her thighs. Wanda squirted, and she didn't even realize it; a deep shade of red crept along Wanda's cheeks and onto the tips of her ears; she hid her face in her hands, groaning loudly; she wanted the world to swallow her whole. She's so embarrassed; you chuckle lightly and gently grab Wanda's wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. Wanda looks up at you, humiliated.

"It's okay, baby, it's natural; I'm impressed I didn't know you could do that," you chuckled, pulling Wanda in for a tight hug, "I didn't know I could do that either; ugh, I'm so sorry," she said, hiding her face in her hands again.

"Don't even worry about it; I'm not mad or anything; we just change the sheets, and end of story," you said, rubbing her back reassuringly. Wanda lifted her head up.

"Are you sure?" she choked up, hiding her face in your neck and wrapping her arms around your torso, "I'm positive, baby, don't worry," you whispered against her forehead.

"Now, let's get you cleaned up."