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bruhstories · 21 days ago

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Bet III

p.1 here & p2. here & p.4 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

summary: the game is on, but in-ho can't focus on it. he's got you on his mind pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan, slight voyeurism, people dying ayy yo (but if you watched squid game, this is just normal) w/c: 2.2k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! also feel free to replace y/n's age, i just needed to put a number there lol

In-ho removed the intricately designed mask from his face and poured himself a glass of whisky, one leg crossed over the other as he sat on the leather sofa of the control room. The first game was about to begin soon — always Red Light, Green Light — and he waited for his favourite song to start — always Fly Me To The Moon. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about listening to a love song while people lost all hope, one by one falling to the ground.

It was a fantastic way to get rid of the weakest links, leaving only those resilient alive. Player 101, eliminated. Player 82, eliminated. Player 329, eliminated. Player 2, eliminated. They dropped like flies, frantically clawing at the gates in a futile attempt to escape while the soldiers shot them from above, painting the ground crimson.

Exhilarating was the only word that could describe what In-ho felt in that moment, and nothing compared to it. When happiness died along with his wife, control was the only thing that fulfilled him. He controlled who died and who lived, but he was also being fair — if participants played by the rules, they survived. It couldn’t get any simpler than that.

Obviously, they didn't have a choice, and In-ho knew that well enough. No, players only had the illusion of choice, but that mirage was what kept them in the game. Besides, they chose to come to the island. They chose to gamble their lives. They chose to be greedy. If anything, the games taught them, albeit for a short time, that actions had consequences, and In-ho was their judge, jury and executioner. It was truly thrilling. Exciting. Exhilarating.

His phone lit up with a notification from the security cameras concealed in his house. Irked by the sudden disturbance, he opened the app to check the footage. You weren't supposed to be there at that time, because you had already been at his house in the morning. In-ho watched you lock the door behind you, thinking today was the day you stole from him and proved him right. He scoffed, hoping you would last longer than one day, but to his surprise, you sat on the kitchen floor, knees to your chest, crying.

He couldn't send you a text — it would have made it obvious that he knew you were there, and his eyes lingered on his phone, forgetting about the game in front of him for a moment. In-ho watched you take out your phone and type, and not a minute later he received a text.

Good morning again! I had a bit of free time after my second job today and came to check on Eunjoo. I'll be leaving in an hour for my other job and I'm not charging for the extra visit.

In-ho stared at the big screen, completely dumbfounded and ignorant to the people dying right before his eyes. How were you working that many jobs? That was, if you were even telling the truth. But he would find out soon, because he left a stack of 2 million won on his nightstand, eagerly waiting for you to take it. You had to take it. You had to be the same as everyone else.

That's absolutely fine. If you don't mind me asking, how many jobs are you working?

He swapped back to the security cameras and watched you wipe the tears off your face with the back of your hand, smiling at his text. Did he say something funny? Why on Earth would you be smiling when a minute ago you had tears rolling down your cheeks?

Officially two, unofficially three. I teach Korean to a family of immigrants, but that's unpaid. I think of it as volunteering. They do feed me, though! My other job is a mascot at Lotte World.

In-ho shattered the empty glass in his hand while reading your text, and winced when he felt blood seeping from a fresh cut. Why, just why did you have to prove him wrong? He watched you go into his bedroom with a pile of freshly clean and dried shirts, ignoring the money. You saw the stack, he noticed you staring at it, hoping you grabbed it, but you found his ironing board and began to iron his shirts, not sparing the money another glance.

Why?

Through the camera, he saw you text back.

Why what?

"Tsk." In-ho scoffed at your question while wrapping a bandage around his palm.

Why are you working that many jobs?

Ah. My uncle has debts. Unfortunately, I had to drop out from uni to help him pay for them. It's fine though, I like what I'm doing.

How old are you?

23.

Jesus Christ, you were so young, yet life had been unfair to you. You deserved an education, a better life, and it cemented his ideal that the world needed to rid itself of the trash. He didn't know the full details, but he was sure to find out. You were unlike anyone he's met before. At least for now, at least until you proved him right.

Ding!

In-ho opened a picture from you — Eunjoo curling up on the left side of his bed, paws under her, looking like a loaf of bread, and the question 'Is that your side of the bed?' under it.

Indeed it is.

I knew it! Aww, she misses you :(

How strange it was to read those words. How strange it was to think about someone, or something missing him. To In-ho that was a foreign feeling, and he loosened his tie, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd seen Eunjoo sleep on his side of the bed before, when he was gone, but he assumed it was just comfortable for her.

Animals truly were better than humans. If they betrayed their owners, they did it out of necessity. When humans betrayed, it was by choice.

In-ho watched you neatly adjust his ironed shirt on a coat hanger that you hung in his wardrobe, disregarding the Red Light, Green Light game that had long finished, and it hit him like a train that you reminded him of his wife. God, you were so much like his wife it infuriated him, because no one was allowed to take that place in his heart. No one was allowed to make him feel anything other than hatred.

You had to make a mistake, to prove to him that you were just like everybody else, and if money didn't make you crack, something else would. In-ho made it his purpose to unravel your darkest secrets, whether through manipulation or sheer force, but the distance between the two of you proved a greater obstacle than he thought.

He watched you finish ironing his clothes, watched you refill Eunjoo's water bowl, watched you comb your hair and put lip balm on while staring into his mirror, and it felt so wrong to study all your quirks and habits without you even knowing. It was the closest thing to having a normal life. But nothing about what he was doing was normal. Especially not watching you be so oblivious to his true self.

With a sigh, In-ho adjusted his mask left the control room to instruct his subordinates, the square-masked guards, to prepare for the next game, Neolttwigi, the soldiers to take the remaining players back to their beds, and the workers to remove the corpses. 188 players survived and more than 50% were eliminated. In-ho, in his Front Man persona, should've focused on the games, but he couldn't, for some unknown reason, shake off the image of you crying on his kitchen floor. He didn’t dare ask what happened. How could he? It would destroy all the secrecy.

It wasn't that he cared about you — he didn't. You appeared to be a positive, cheerful and talkative person, so whatever hurt your feelings must have been important. Was it your uncle? Your boyfriend? He scoffed at that thought. The mere idea of some guy breaking your heart made him irrationally angry, and In-ho was lucky that his mask concealed his frustration.

He decided to pay the remaining players a visit, accompanied by eight armed guards, and, just like last year, and the year before, and the year before that, there was always a woman who dropped to her knees, begging to be spared and allowed to go home. Another one followed, and even men asked for forgiveness, but they just couldn't get it through their thick skulls that they chose to be there. They chose to gamble their lives away, they chose to borrow money and end up with debts they could never afford to repay. No one forced them to play the games.

When the room was filled with echoing cries and hysterical sobs, In-ho fired a single shot in the air, shutting everyone up. They all looked at him with fear in their eyes like pigs in a slaughterhouse waiting to be gutted, and he lowered the gun, standing firm on his feet.

"You must be mistaken. You are not here to be punished, you are all here because of the choices you made." In-ho simply said, his voice distorted by the mask.

He took notice of teams already being formed, of those who were willing to step on corpses just to get the big prize and those who would rather sacrifice themselves, because there were always people who wanted to play the hero. He studied them all before they got recruited, and knew 456 secrets, 456 names, 456 lives. Well, only 188 survived.

"We came here to win money, not to fucking die!" Player 072 shouted from the back of the room. "And if I'm correct, we can vote to go back home."

Ah, yet another one who thought they could outsmart In-ho. He's been there before. He walked that path before, and it taught him that people don't change. Ever. Even if they voted to leave, they always came back.

"Of course, clause three of the consent form. If the majority decides to go home, you are free to do so. We don't hold anyone against their will." In-ho nodded. "But before you make your choice, allow me to tell you the current accumulated prize."

He pressed a button on a small, black remote and a large glass piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling as the lights in the room dimmed down. Stacks upon stacks of money piled up in the piggy bank, and the screen counted the current prize — 26.8 billion won. In-ho watched how their faces lit up at the amount of money accumulated, but also how the penny dropped for most of them — the more people died, the more money the survivors got.

"If you choose to leave, the money will be distributed amongst the deceased players' families. It’s only fair." He said, and left the room so that the soldiers could prepare for the democratic vote.

"You're manipulating us!" In-ho heard a player shout, and maybe he did. Maybe he was chipping away at their humanity to bring out the worst in them, but it was for the best. At least by dying they served a purpose.

It was no surprise that the majority voted to stay, 95 to 93. Good — he didn't have to go through the trouble of sending them home. The soldiers and workers brought food for the players, and In-ho checked his phone in the safety of his room. There was no text from you, and it was almost time for you to check on Eunjoo, but when it hit 9 and you weren't in his house, he felt a knot in his stomach, an uneasy feeling. Was he worried? Of course he was, for his cat, not for you.

Ding!

The sound of his phone caught him off guard, almost startling him, almost making him feel relieved when he saw it was you, and In-ho read the text.

Evening! Traffic was baaad this evening but I'm nearly at the penthouse. Will Eunjoo ever forgive me? :(

The stupid sad face you sent made the image of you pouting pop up in his head and he wondered why. There wasn't a good enough reason for you to be haunting him like a phantom. You were a nobody to him.

Eunjoo might, but I won't.

In-ho immediately regretted pressing send. It was unprofessional and stupid of him to text such a reply, because you weren't friends. He had no friends.

I'm so sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you, Mr. Hwang! I really need to get you a gift for letting me use your shower anyway.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips when you didn't take his message the wrong way, but part of him was hoping you would try to flirt with him, seduce him, do anything to prove him right. And yet again, you remained true to yourself.

He watched you on the cameras again, how you invaded his home, his life, how you fed Eunjoo and munched on prawn crackers again, disappointed that you, for the second day in a row, refused to use anything in his house for yourself except for the shower and the TV.

There was still time to win the bet, and he never lost.

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @hobiesbrownsgf @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm

please keep in mind that if i didn't tag you it's because i either missed it, or i couldn't find your age on your blog. there will be smut.

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al-luviec · 3 months ago

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cont...

still haven't moved on from zane in this episode (aka I hit tag limit again and am unhappy about it)

#alek insanity #continuing the rant in a reblog or i will go insane because i shant leave this business unfinished #he doesn't allow himself to properly handle emotions. ever. i was talking to a friend about this the other day but the ninja all cry #in different ways. nya and kai (due to their upbringing) struggle with emotional regulation and so when theh cry they BAWL. such as nya #bawling head in hands after zane died. and then kai who bawled head in hands when nya died in s6. when lloyd cried in s8 (maybe 9..?) he #shed several tears. he silently cried but i attribute this to not wanting harumi to get the emoitonal upper hand on him. then there is jay #who (when upset) will make it everyone elses problem. hes a free crier what he feels is real and he will express that. THEN YOU HAVE ZANE #zane first cries in tick tock post after turning on his memory switch. it was in response to his father's final message to him #“im only doing this because i love you' sort of deal. he cried one singular tear and moved on. he had to keep fighting. no time to dwell #on this crazy revelation because he needs to help the ninja. their needs over his. the 2nd (and final time according to my memory) time is #right before he dies in s3. one singular tear at the thought of his father and then he dies. anytime there is a huge loss zane does a lot o #the comforting. him comforting kai during nyas death in s6 and also during coles assumed death in s10. anytime he feels bad #he pushes his needs down. insert him literally turning off his emotions because his productivity was low. this behavior is less apparent #in the earlier seasons (just bc tonally the show is different) but it is still there. big fan of how hes written in this episode bc theres #so many little things. he was the one who took out the trash even though he never threw any food. he took his apron off near the trash cans #like he was going to throw it away + his dislike of pink later. he decides to follow the falcon after hearing the ninja laugh from outside #the gate. he made food as an apology for 'ruining' the dinner prior even though that wasnt even what happened. hes always trying #to make up for things that you cant make up. no one will be in the wrong but he will feel as if it falls on him. he is always chasing #what he cannot reach. s11 his message where he says he hasnt achieved his goal of protecting others yet. its a cycle that will never end #and that characterization is present HERE its so fun to me. zane being an entirely different perso but the same at the same time fucks me u #'i am just a replica' but in the 'im a shell of who i used to be way' later zane is very much zane still. bad writing doesnt make that #apparent though. i dont think zane now should behave 100% like zane in s1. i miss him then too BUT he has changed. out of all the ninja #hes done the most character degression... if that makes sense? hes still the same guy with the same issues. but with even more issues now #i think thats about it.#not gonna main tag this but prepare for a tiny rant #<- so that was a lie LMFAO

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smutoperator · 11 months ago

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Hard

Kim Chaewon, Kim Minju x Male Reader

Tags: choking, cum licking, dom/sub, (lots of) facefucking, female masturbation, fucktoy, P2M, rope play, rough sex, sexual freak, smoking, spanking, threesome, voyeurism, whipping

Word count: 6169.

If you are one of the believers in someone radically changing, look no further than Kim Chaewon. Since joining Le Sserafim, she has undergone a radical change, shedding her previously cute image in favor of a fierce, fallen angel one. With that image rebranding, not only did Chaewon get bolder in front of regular audiences, but she has also turned into a sexual freak behind four walls, as you could witness the first time you met her after joining Le Sserafim.

Chaewon's depravity now knew no limits, as she added more and more kinks to her arsenal. Her personal favorite was having any kind of sex with a rope dangerously wrapped around her neck, which she decided to show you with a little solo show in the dark bedroom, where you two were now together, as she placed her left hand under the panties of her sexy lingerie and started fingering herself for you to watch.

"Ahhhhh. Ahhhhh. Ahhhhh," her moans as she fingered her pussy were music to your ears. The way she moved her mouth while searching for air and overstimulating herself was so sexy. Her eyes rolled, but she never lost control of the rope at any time, even if her body now contorted into multiple orgasms. Chaewon just closed her eyes and enjoyed the ride to paradise. Or maybe, in her dirty thoughts, straight to hell. She twisted and turned as if she were being electrocuted, but her hand never left her clit for even a second.

When Chaewon entered the final stage of her earth-shattering orgasm, her head started falling out of the bed, leading to the illusion that the rope had hanged her. As Chaewon's hand finally detached from her pussy, her body lied on the bed for a few seconds as if she were dead. You sure thought she was, getting up from the chair while you were watching her performance to check her pulse. There was a reason Chaewon only tried this move in someone else's company, after all.

At the same time you went in Chaewon's direction, the door started to bang. Her pulse looked fine as you checked it, but she remained unmoved ever since finishing her orgasm. It was an act all along. As Chaewon heard the banging door, she was suddenly brought back to life and detached the rope from her neck, flipping her body around to face you while picking up a cigarette to smoke. "Are you gonna let my guests in or not?" she asked.

In many ways, Kim Minju is the polar opposite of Chaewon. She hasn't undergone any rebranding since her days in Iz*one were over, still relying on her beauty and her cute, girlfriend-esque image to define her public persona and always playing it safe. Her recent vacation in Hawaii with Eunbi was a good example: while her older groupmate was taking bold photos in bikinis and showing herself swimming, Minju was fully clothed every single time she showcased herself while on vacation.

Despite those differences, Chaewon and Minju were still as close as ever. The radical change in her former groupmate didn't alienate Minju; it rather made her curious. So much so that she accepted Chaewon's invitation to be her guest in an experience she had never been part of before.

Chaewon greeted Minju already in lingerie while smoking yet another cigarette as she looked at Minju's beautiful face and her manager along with her, just as Chaewon had requested. "Make yourself at home," she said. Minju was modest as always, wearing a black dress while her manager was still wearing work attire. Minju at first didn't know how to react, looking at her manager for a green light. "Go on, follow me," Chaewon said, encouraging her former groupmate.

Minju walked and sat on the bed. Chaewon had just "died" a couple minutes ago. The sun was starting to shine on this cold February day, making Chaewon's lingerie glow as it hit the dorm's curtains. Her manager followed and was going to sit as well until Chaewon interrupted him.

"Just her," she commanded. Reluctantly, Minju's manager moved closer to the chair where you were still sitting as Chaewon walked the room and stared at Minju, always in awe over her ethereal beauty, before she started asking her questions.

"Do you like to be dominated?" Chaewon asked. "Yes." Minju gave her a timid answer as Chaewon continued to interrogate her. "What's your safe word?" she then asked. "Fox," Minju said. "That sounds too similar to fuck; you need to change it," Chaewon instructed her. "Pepe," she said. "And how do you want to be dominated today?" Chaewon continued as she kept slowly walking. "I like to be spanked," Minju replied, sensing the perfect opportunity. Her porcelain skin was still a little red from the vacation in Hawaii, so she felt like it would be an extra challenge.

"Great," Chaewon approved her choice, sitting along with Minju and looking at her right in the eye before grabbing Minju by the Chin with her right hand as they looked at each other face-to-face. She gave Minju a soft slap that made her close her eyes, then took a look at her pouty lips, ruining Minju's lipstick as she ran her hand over it.

"Ready to join us?" Chaewon asked you as she smoked a little more. You stood up and headed towards both, followed by Minju's manager, before Chaewon stepped ahead. "Not you, just him," she said to the manager, who now took your place in the chair. You put your finger on Minju's mouth, looking to make her your submissive toy from the start. Chaewon caressed Minju's hair, trying to make her feel at home. Minju looked frightened as you towered over her, making your presence very intimidating.

You pushed Minju's body onto your lap, fully exposing her bare legs for Chaewon to see as her dress got lifted. Her skin was already ultra-red around her ass, indicating that she indeed wore a bikini in Hawaii but just never showed it. The outer lips of Minju's tasty pussy were already popping out. Her manager looked in disbelief as she watched a bent-over Minju look extremely submissive.

"Tell him when to hit," Chaewon tells Minju, whose eyes look regretful now. "Hit," Minju says as you follow her command with a hard spank that makes her roll her eyes in pain. Minju asks again, and you strike her just as hard, this time on the right cheek instead of the left. Minju takes a while to repeat the command, giving you some time to run your right hand over her ass. Once you hit her, she lets out the first moan from her mouth. As Minju feels more prepared, you continue to strike, and she continues to moan. You grab her arm as she lets out a smile at the next spank, your hand already making a full imprint on her red ass.

Minju decreases the interval between strikes, telling you to hit more times. Her butt looks extremely swollen, and you have barely started. You lift her dress a little, allowing Chaewon to see Minju's rarely-shown belly button. Minju now feels very satisfied at every hit; she wasn't lying when she said she liked to be spanked after all. Chaewon stands up as she gives Minju a little strike before turning away to search for her ashtray to put another fully smoked cigarette. She goes back to give Minju a couple hits as the pretty girl recognizes Chaewon's softer hands in her ass. Chaewon then takes the initiative and becomes the lead striker, before pushing Minju away from your lap and moving towards the next act.

Chaewon gives Minju a kiss as both of you run your hands all over her dress. The fully clothed torso of Minju contrasts with the barely clothed one of Chaewon. But you're about to level them as you start slowly taking Minju's dress off and groping her little tits as she is braless, while Chaewon wraps her strong hands around Minju's face to kiss her. Chaewon also pokes Minju's boobs before she pushes her closer to you to kiss Minju. The bikini marks on Minju's chest are fairly visible, as her pale skin around her boobs contrasts with the redder one on her beautiful collarbones and chest.

You grab Minju by her neck with your veiny hands, putting her knees on the floor. Chaewon unhooks your belt and wraps it around Minju's neck, never missing a chance to show what her favorite kink is. Chaewon tightens the belt but keeps it just loose enough to not suffocate Minju, using it like a dog collar. You unzip your pants and point your erection towards Minju's princess's face. Your uncut cock already looks very intimidating, even though only the tip is out of the foreskin.

Chaewon leads your boner to Minju's mouth, and she licks her chops as soon as her unnie does it. Chaewon knows Minju is no saint and that her cute image is just a facade that falls as soon as she senses the smell of a dirty cock. You push your erection a little up, and Minju immediately follows, reacting like she's a robot programmed to please a man's meat. Chaewon giggles as you shove your cock in Minju's mouth and grab her by the back of the head.

"How tight is her mouth, baby?" Chaewon asks as Minju closes her eyes and throats your manhood. Just a few slow but deep thrusts in her throat are enough for her to gag, but the cock that emerges out of her mouth now's got a throbbing tip that can no longer be contained under your foreskin. "Deeper," Chaewon says as you now fuck Minju's pretty face, who looks overwhelmed, especially her cheeks, which seem as if they are about to burst every time your cock hits them. Chaewon takes your cock in her mouth to show Minju how it's done, bobbing her head before getting face-fucked and emerging with a smile as soon as she gags.

Minju can only watch in awe of how hard you fuck Chaewon's face, like she's just a gloryhole. And Chaewon loves every second of it, grabbing your butt as she pushes her mouth closer to your crotch. Chaewon then grabs Minju's head and provides the support you need to freely fuck the beauty's face. A large pop comes out of Minju's lips once you're done. "Give me your face," you demand of her as you slap your cock on Minju's beautiful, porcelain skin, giving special attention to her red cheeks.

"Lick my balls," you ask Minju, who descends down your crotch while you now fuck Chaewon's mouth. Minju's lips bring a lot of friction to your sack as Chaewon slurps all over your prick. "Spit on her face," you ask Chaewon right after finishing the sloppy facefuck, as she shares her saliva with Minju. You grip Minju by your belt and give her the roughest throatfuck yet. You further humiliate Minju, sitting on her cute face as you ask her to rim your dirty butthole while you pound Chaewon's insatiable throat, and then keep switching between their tight facial entrances to warm your cock up.

"Ass up," you ask Minju, who follows and buries her face on Chaewon's thighs, who giggles as you start turning her rope into a whip, rotating it to spank Minju's already red butt. Chaewon laughs like a psychopat, enjoying Minju's suffering as she adds to it, slapping both hands on Minju's ass. "You told me you liked to be spanked," she recalls.

Once you're done whipping her, you take out Minju's little thong, the final piece of fabric still on her body. With her now fully naked, you don't hide your intentions. "She's got such a great ass. I wanna fuck her," you say, soon turning your words into action as you plow into Minju's tight slit. Chaewon removes the support from her lap, letting Minju fend for herself as you pound her at a 90-degree angle, while Chaewon whispers words in Minju's ear.

"Little whore likes that big cock, doesn't she?" Chaewon asks Minju, who doesn't answer because she's too busy with a raging bull impaling her. "Fuck that pussy," Chaewon commands to you just as you pause to lube your dick with Chaewon's mouth. After some extra poundings, you take Minju out of her submissive cocksleeve position just to spit on her pretty face before choking her with your belt.

"Come on, get on the bed," you and Chaewon ask Minju as both of you continue to play the dominant couple. Chaewon helps lift Minju's legs over her head and position her on a mating press in the bed. You put your cock back on Minju's perfect pussy, giving her slow thrusts that reach all the way deep inside her and make your cock bulge on Minju's belly. Then you increase the pace while both you and Chaewon choke Minju. You use your hands while she uses her always-at-hand rope.

Minju rests on Chaewon's breasts as you go back to intensely fucking her. "Do you like that?" you ask Minju. "Yes, I like that," she answers back. "Then let me do this," you say as you stick a pair of fingers on Minju's clit, wanting for her to squirt. "She saw me squirting a river one day and now wants every girl to do that," Chaewon says. Little showers come out of Minju's vagina, which are a sign for you to go back in.

You now slap Minju's face as her moans turn into a fox-esque squeal. "Look at this big cock inside you," you tell Minju, enjoying that bulge under her belly. Chaewon wants a piece of it as she laughs at your face. "Go harder," she says, which leads you to violently choke her. "Who are you to give me orders?" you say. "The other dominant half," she replies.

"AHHHHHH. AHHHHH," Minju screams as you once again penetrate her with your fingers, this time managing to be much more successful in making her squirt. "That pussy is so wet," Chaewon says as Minju starts to lose her breath, especially as you grab her neck much harder now. Minju's belly muscles start to contract, and you place your hands in her clit, stimulating her while you stretch her pussy out. As soon as you stop a little to eat Minju out, her body starts having spasms as your tongue searches for her best spots to cum.

You aren't done yet as you destroy Minju balls deep like she's your personal fleshlight. Chaewon rests her body on top of Minju's, ready to taste that wet pussy from your cock as soon as you please. Of course you had to give it to her in the only way it could please Chaewon's insatiable sexual appetite: by fucking her face. Minju now tries to silence her increasingly out-of-breath moans by placing Chaewon's fabric in her mouth, but it's useless. Her pussy is so stretched out that anything can send her over the moon now.

You continue to take turns between Minju's vagina and Chaewon's face until you grab Chaewon and look at her devilish smile following a facefuck. "You're the best; come here and get some more." You reward Chaewon for her insane appetite as your meat continues to pound her throat. You then switch back to Minju, using your right hand to shut her fucking mouth up while you rub Chaewon's body, trying as much as possible not to cum earlier and not break the promise that Chaewon made to Minju's member that they wouldn't cum inside her. Instead, they would make her insides cum.

"NOOOOOO!" Minju screamed as you now put your full hand in her pussy to make it squirt. Minju nearly had thoughts of saying her safe word and making you stop, but they passed as the heat your hands put in her pussy settled down. But you were a gentleman and rewarded Minju's cumming with a kiss, plus a taste of it as your right hand now fisted her mouth. "Lick it. Tell me how it tastes," you asked her. "So good," Minju replied.

You have now set your sights on Chaewon. "Come here, turn around, please," you tell her as you pull Chaewon's panties down. She closes her legs and puts her ass up, giving you a perfect view of her puffy slit, giggling as you sniff and blow air into her pair of fuckholes. "Look at this slut, always laughing," you say as Chaewon gets louder. "Give me, give me your cock," she demands with a smile on her face.

You answer her immediately, penetrating Chaewon as your hands firmly grab her ass. "Please, please, give it to me," she continues to beg as you pump her cunt faster. Minju appears back on the frame to serve you as the submissive fucktoy, resting her head on Chaewon's left buttcheek. You then take turns performing a hole-switching between Chaewon's pussy and Minju's mouth, taking one deep thrust at each every time. You fuck Minju's face to get your cock wetter for Chaewon, earning her approval. "That's how a good boy does it," she says.

"Give it to me, fuck my pussy," she keeps repeating as you now grab her neck and push her face closer to you for some kisses. Chaewon talks louder than she moans; so far, your fast pumpings have just been easy peasy lemon squeezy to her, especially compared to Minju. "You mean like that?" you say as you hammer her harder. "YES!" Chaewon finally elevates her tone, sticking her tongue out to show how pleased she is as you finally take her bra off.

Chaewon rests her head on the bed as you increase the pumping, grabbing her by the suspender belt—the only part of her lingerie, besides her stockings, which she never takes off, that's still on. "Come on, harder," she says as you use Minju's mouth to help you again, and she coughs on your big cock. Seeing Chaewon is hard to please with just a cock in her pussy, you resort towards your main dom trick and start stomping on her head, but even your big foot smashing her face does little to deter Chaewon's insatiableness.

Minju can only watch as you now fuck Chaewon like an animal. "Come on, stomp on my face. So you wanna be the boss? Show me you got it. Fuck that pussy hard," she invites the challenge as you ragdoll her. That big cock hitting her cervix many times a second finally makes Chaewon moan. "Deeper, harder; give me all of it; come on," she says. You have a lot of stamina, but Chaewon is such a physical freak that even a guy like you gets fully drained by her unmatched intensity. Chaewon smiles and moans with her tongue out as you replace your foot with your hand on her face to get a deeper penetration of her pussy.

Chaewon is now bent at a straight angle, and so is your cock while penetrating her; that combination finally allows her to get what she wants. But you would rather not get drained just with her and leave nothing for Minju, as the moment you see the young beauty following her unnie's footsteps and putting her ass up, you switch to fucking her instead.

It's much harder for Minju, as just a pair of pumps has her screaming. Chaewon barks in pleasure, watching her fucktoy get impaled once again and having it hard with something that was just regular play to her. You still pay attention to Chaewon's perfect butt, spanking it and fingering her easily accessible cunt while breaking Minju apart.

"AHHHHHH~" Minju screams as you stick your cock balls deep in her pussy, staying with them fully inside her for a long time. That makes her legs weak, meaning she can't put her ass up anymore, getting her body pressed against the bed in a prone-bone position. As you take your fingers off Chaewon's fuckholes, you spank her butt and give her a kiss. "So do you like watching your little toy get fucked like that?" you ask her after the kiss. "Hell yes," Chaewon responds.

You push Minju to the edge of the bed and put her on her knees to pound her doggystyle. Chaewon moves toward the place in the dorm's bed that Minju once was, giving you a perfect view of her sexy tits as she starts masturbating herself to you fucking Minju. "Oh my God," Minju says as you muffle her mouth and stretch her out fast and hard, to the point she can barely hold onto the bed as Chaewon stares at her and just enjoys the show.

Chaewon spreads her legs as you push Minju's face towards her unnie's craving cunt. "Good girl," she says as Minju's tongue hits her clit. You make sure that Minju's beautiful face stays buried there as you choke her while she tries to dive under Chaewon's folds. Minju's tight pussy, breedable hips, and the speed you fuck her get you close to release, which earns Chaewon's disapproval. "Do not cum yet," she says.

You have to pull out of Minju's pussy to hold yourself as you look drained and struggle to breathe, pleasing her pussy shortly after to repay her for such a good fucking. You three engage in an oral train as Minju is still eating Chaewon's slit, now moaning every time you tongue it deep into her own's. Chaewon giggles as you eat Minju out, making her increase the speed at Chaewon's pussy, clinging to it as her last way of surviving your tongue hitting her folds. Chaewon loves it, moaning more than she ever did when you were the one fucking her.

You go back to Minju's pussy, sensing that the more she clings to eating Chaewon's cunt as a coping mechanism, the better she gets. But Chaewon loves to test her and detaches her pussy away from Minju's grasp, leaving her all by herself to take the rough pounding you now give her, only going back to grab Minju's hair and get a privileged view of her face stuggling as you destroy her pussy. You finish Minju with a deep fingering that finally, after resisting your first two attempts, makes her squirt a river into the bedsheets.

With Minju still recovering from her orgasm, you keep the heat in her wet pussy and eat her out. You tied your belt around her thighs to keep them close as you put your cock back in her tight pussy, while Chaewon lifted Minju's cute face straight into her tits for her to suck it. Soon, you two were teaming up on her, with Chaewon grabbing Minju's neck while you pinched her nipples. Minju grinded her teeth, overwhelmed by the way you two attacked her. Minju grabbed her ass and then yelled. "PLEASE DON'T STOP.".

Chaewon grossed her legs on top of Minju's face, smothering it with her thighs as the younger girl dove back into her pussy, with a little helping hand shoving her, before going face to face with her and asking, "Are you enjoying being our little fucktoy, Ming?". "Yes." Minju nodded while struggling with the heat you were still putting in her little pussy. Chaewon ran her fingers on Minju's chin as she wanted to watch the pretty girl moan up close before letting Minju suck her thumb as she kept moaning.

"You want him to take you deeper?" Chaewon asked. Minju just nodded this time. "Tell him," Chaewon kept pressuring. "Please, fuck me deeper," Minju says, already very out of breath. "Come here," you promptly answer her, pushing Minju out of bed, taking off your belt from her thighs, and getting her to stand. Your cock now hits her deep in the cervix while you finger her pussy with both hands, and Chaewon just watches and takes the bed all by herself.

Minju gets clapped hard as your balls make a loud noise every time you thurst into her pussy. Even her little tits now bounce like pinballs. "AHHHHH," she says, feeling the heat and placing her right hand at yours, implying you should go easier. But without saying, you two can't understand, as Chaewon now grabs her neck. The bikini marks from her vacation glow as the sun hits the curtains more intensely.

"Show your manager how much of a fucktoy you are," you say as you turn Minju's body around and let her face her manager and manhandle her in front of him. He has to keep his composure, but the truth is, he's nearly creaming his pants. Chaewon giggles as she watches poor Minju get destroyed like a defenseless damsel. You three now get close as Chaewon stands up and grabs Minju while you keep pounding her, as both your left hand and Minju's now rest on her pussy.

Minju continues to get mauled in front of her manager as Chaewon enjoys every second of it. "You like to watch her get fucked, don't you?" she says as the manager remains silent. "ANSWER IT," Chaewon demands of the manager, who can only say "yeah" as Minju now clings to his legs while still being destroyed like a fucktoy. Chaewon taps Minju's ass and rests her head on her back, looking at you naughtily. "Open your mouth and eat her ass," you ask her, diving her head on Minju's butt as Chaewon sticks her tongue out to lick her former groupmate's butthole, enjoying a perfect view of Minju's pussy being stretched out.

You once again perform your classic pussy-to-mouth switcheroo between Chaewon and Minju, making the former laugh once you're ready to pound Minju more and more. Chaewon spits on your dick and gropes Minju's ass cheeks as the younger beuty turns into a moaning mess. "Come to me," you ask Chaewon while Minju is still on all fours, completely neutralized and submissive. She's not going to be able to walk for the next few days.

Chaewon gets ready to sit on your cock as Minju turns around to watch her unnie's upcoming wild ride, still on her knees and very sore. "Turn around," you tell Chaewon. "Ohhh, uhhhh," she moans in anticipation as you fully impale her. You grab Chaewon by her ass and push your cock up her cunt under Minju's watchful eye. "Lick my balls, lick those fucking balls," you ask Minju, who dives between your legs as you push Chaewon's butt slightly upwards to let Minju have a full view of your shaft. Chaewon keeps throwing words of incentive to fuck her harder as you pump her hole faster and she rests her body on your torso.

You lock Chaewon's arms behind her back. "Please, please, fuck me harder," she demands. "I love fucking that pusssy so much," you tell her after kissing her tenderly. "AHHHH FUCK," you are the first to scream as your fast poundings and Minju's mouth on your balls get you close and force you to calm down, but not for long as Chaewon gets more demanding as you resume pounding her while sucking her perky tits. "Deeper. Harder," she keeps saying. You spank her ass, choke her, and pinch her nipples as you get rougher on her, trying to match Chaewon's demanding style. It seems like too much cock is never enough for her.

"I want all of it," Chaewon says. "Then take it, you fucking slut, every inch of it in your cunt," you angrily reply to her as your cock hits her cervix. But Chaewon is indeed antifragile and takes advantage of your little pause to take control of the ride and start bouncing full speed on your big pole.

You shove Chaewon to the side to not cum prematurely. "Lick it," you tell Minju, who rims your asshole and calms you a bit. But Chaewon comes back right where she left off, sitting on your face and grabbing your cock intensely as you two are now engaged on a 69. You try to fuck her face, but Chaewon and her mouth of steel successfully defeat you, with her taking your cock fully deep in her throat and not letting it out. You start to scream again and hold her as hard as you can by the waist. Minju sniffs your balls, and you keep pushing up Chaewon's throat to free yourself from her, but she doesn't bend an inch.

Chaewon only lets you off the control of her throat to talk to Minju, but she is still grabbing your shaft. "Hmmm, yeah, you like licking his balls?" she asks. Minju nods in agreement. "You like being a good little slut?" she continues. "Yes, ma'am," Minju replies in a way that feels like she's almost worshipping Chaewon. "Then go get my rope; go get it," Chaewon replies as she slaps Minju's porcelain face and makes it red.

"Do you want more?" Chaewon giggles as she puts her back against the bed. "Yes, I fucking want more," you say. That woman is getting on your nerves. Sex seems so easy to her. You fuck her like a raging animal, yet she barely flinches. Minju brings the rope, as asked. Chaewon is more satisfied than ever as she ties it around her neck. You put Chaewon's feet in your mouth and pound her in a hardcore missionary, while she slowly wraps the rope fully around her neck.

"Get on the bed," Chaewon tells Minju as she also wraps the youngster around her rope. Your hands hard-fingering Chaewon's cunt and the rope choking her are finally what make her cave and start moaning. "Oh, I love it, I love it, I love it," she says. You start teasing Chaewon's pussy, going in and out of it as you sense her getting more sensitive. "AHHHHH!" she yells as your cock hits the depths of her vagina. Chaewon starts to beg as you grope her boobs and manhandle her. For the first time, you're the real boss, as she grinds her teeth at each pounding your manhood prescribes on her pussy.

Your balls clap hard on her skin while you make fast movements on Chaewon's clitoris, playing with it like a musician playing with the strings of a guitar. "Make that pussy cum," she is still able to demand despite looking as weak as ever. Your whole hand now rests over her clit, making aggressive moves in search of that fallen angel nectar. "OHHHH. OHHHHH. OHHHHH." For the first time, Chaewon turns into a screaming machine; her hard walls clench and start to fall apart.

Chaewon grabs your neck and asks for more, but this time you show her who's in control, as she gets double choked by your hands and the rope. Minju is now merely a spectator of you two's debauchery, as she barely feels her legs after a pounding that looked easy compared to the one Chaewon is taking. Chaewon grunts, and you answer in the same manner, blowing off steam at her slutty, choked face.

"Give it to me," she keeps asking like usual, now with her legs fully spread and her toes going over her head. You could punish her with a surprise cumshot in her cunt right now but decide to have some mercy, instead bringing Minju back to action as you two team up to eat Chaewon's pussy and get her even weaker. Chaewon is strong enough to choke Minju using her legs, but two tongues working her throbbing folds still make her moan as hard as she ever did.

You make eye contact with Minju and give her kisses between the licking you two are performing. You are falling in love with Minju's ethereal beauty. Meeting the love of your life on top of her former groupmate's pussy is a story you don't see often. You stick your cock back inside Chaewon but now treat her as just an audition to impress Minju, who watches it up close with her head still wrapped around Chaewon's legs. As Chaewon asks you to go deeper, you shove your entire cock inside her, not even sparing your balls.

"All the way," Chaewon demands. And you will go all the way, treating Chaewon like a fucktoy, just like the way she treats all her sex partners. "Give me all your cock," Chaewon continues to demand. You give all your cock, but not to her. "Open your mouth," you ask Minju, who stretches her beautiful lips out to receive the juices of her unnie first hand. Minju gets fucked in the face just enough for you to resume the rampage on Chaewon.

You press Minju's head against Chaewon's belly, making her feel the fire under it. You stick your cock balls deep once more inside that insatiable whore, making her scream as you reach her cervix as you feed Minju right after. Chaewon laughs as you use your wrath and frustration to destroy Minju's pretty face. You push yourself to the floor and drag Chaewon alongside you, plowing her cunt in front of Minju's manager. "Harder, harder, harder," she begs as her tits jiggle at each pounding.

Minju's manager is the one enjoying it the most, as he gets to enjoy an extremely sexy view starting with Chaewon and Minju's heads locked at each other, their hairs very messy, going down Chaewon's bouncy tits as she gets plowed down low with your huge stick, her legs fully spread like a crab while you finger her clit with both your thumbs. The manager can't resist such visual overstimulation and cums without touching himself.

"You like watching it?" Chaewon asks the manager just as he finishes bursting a huge load on his trousers. "Tell me, use your words?" she keeps pushing in between moans. Chaewon is now the one auditioning as she pulls out of your cock and sits on your face, getting close to the manager and attempting to seduce him as she points her milky tits and moaning face right in his sights. As she groans harder, she finally gets a positive response from the manager.

Chaewon giggles but is quickly interrupted by the pressure you put on her pussy. "OHHHHH FUCKKK!" she screams as you lead her to finally have an orgasm in front of Minju's manager. You try to take advantage of it by resuming pounding Chaewon and choking her harder using the rope you now hold with your left hand, but she quickly shuts it down and just enjoys your hard and deep thrusts. "Harder," she says, going back to asking.

You asphyxiate Chaewon with the rope and slap her tits; that only turns her into more of a sex demon. Despite you choking her, she's the one who takes control of the ride and gives you yet another close call. "FUCK!" you scream as you kick Chaewon back up to the bed, putting her body upside down while you demand Minju to lick her pussy. You two finally manage to tame Chaewon as her face is buried on Minju's hips while yours are in her insatiable cunt.

"You want that cum?" Chaewon asks Minju as you free her for one last rodeo. "Tell us you want it," she keeps saying. Minju sticks her tongue out, signaling to you that she's begging to taste that cum. "Are you gonna give her the cum or not?" Chaewon provokes you as you grope her tits.

"Cover me in your cum; show how much you love us," Chaewon says. As much as she got on your nerves, you can't say no to such a sex goddess as you ejaculate your semen all over her body, paying special attention to hitting her mole and her boobs the most. Chaewon drains your balls before you can even spare a load for Minju, who has to lick her unnie's sexy body to taste your protein, which Minju does perfectly, filling her cute mouth and pretty face with sperm.

"Good girl," Chaewon tells Minju as she licks and kisses her nipples, which end up being her favorite spot. Minju gives your cock one last deepthroat, which helps her swallow most of your cum, leaving a few drops to swap with Chaewon as they kiss each other. You and Minju are extremely tired, both your genitalia throbbing in pain after such a long and hard sex session. It turns out Chaewon is just an insane woman, which is too much for you two to handle. Minju rests her head on your lap as you tenderly caress her, falling in love as both of you fall asleep on the bed.

But that sleep is short-lived. After 20 minutes or so, you and Minju open your eyes. The first thing Minju sees as she wakes up is her manager manhandling a woman and treating her like a dog, using a rope to choke her while she curses.

"Fuck me in front of her."

#chaewon smut #minju smut #le sserafim smut #izone smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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simp-ly-writes · 2 months ago

Text

Hope in a Bottle

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Pairing: AU!Silco x Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You had died many years ago, or at least that was true in Silco's world. He had learned to live without you but when graced with the opportunity to see you once again- he can't help but indulge.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, ANGST (but no seriously there are no happily ever afters), some fluff/comforting moments, suggestive themes.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,668

─ · · A/N: I cried like at least four times when writing this, this show HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD.

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Silco often thought about you in passing moments. These moments he remembered sharing with you amongst your friends and in the comfort of your arms used to be coated in blue that he would drown and surround himself in; but as your presence forever lingered in his mind blue turned to pink and rose-tinted glasses glossed over every moment- every memory with a certain degree of fondness that he would catch himself smiling even when no one was in the room.

You would always manage to light up the room, tell him a joke when he needed it most, told him off and raised him up. He put so much of himself into you into your presence that when you left... it was like he had to redefine who he was but forever remained unsuccessful.

Silco learned to live without you physically but that did not mean that your jacket was still not waiting for your return on the back of his couch or your glass still half-filled by the bedside. Your chair at the bar was always kept at the back, awaiting your return as you both shared kisses in the storage room. He would always remember how the stained glasses reflected in your eyes, the colour breaking across your skin in a forever radiant presence just like you.

Vander would catch Silco in these moments when wiping down the bar top or taking a walk down by the Zaun bay, overlooking the artificial lights and hints of sunlight being cast upon the black waters. Watching as the mans hand opened and tensed before falling back down to his side.

"You doing alright there. brother?" Vander asked in a soft tone as they both crossed over to topside for the day. Silco looked up, a strand of his hair falling from his salt and pepper hair- blowing with the wind. "We are always alright in the hope to be better, and when we get better we hope for it to stay only to be alright once again; stuck in the cycle of it all I find myself on the better side today."

Vander hums along to Silco's words as they stop at the various market stalls to see their offerings a few new bottles for the bar from another region across the sea and a bag of sweets for the kids in the area. The men are suddenly greeted with another body stepping in between the two and falling inline with their pace.

"And how are we doin'?" Powder asks with a wide smile, trying to squeeze her arms together to encompass both of their sides before turning around to walk backwards and hold conversation.

Silco winces as Power almost misses lamp post after lamp post by mere millimetres. "We are fine, just about to make our way back home actually. Anywhere your headed, young lady?" Silco teases, his voice sharing sincerity in every syllable.

Powder rolls her eyes before turning back around, head tilting over her shoulder before she disappears back amongst the crowd, "Going to see this new invention Echo has been telling me about!" Vander shakes his head with a loving stare where Powder had just stood.

"She's going to change the world one day, you know?" Vander says to the wind, hoping that it catches her ears but it only does Silcos.

"I'm afraid she already has for she is your own world," Silco comments, placing a hand on his friends shoulder before powering forwards. "I hate it when your always right," Vander teases before taking two long strides to catch back up.

"Well I perfected it only from the best." Both mens minds go directly back to you, smiling and twirling in the bar to a new record you had found on the topside. Somehow you had already known all the lyrics after this being your supposed first time listening to the piece.

"They always knew, huh," Vander says, looking down to catch Silco small smile. "Yes, but not everything I wanted them to..."

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When back in Zaun and at The Last Drop, bar-goers had already flooded the decorated space for tomorrow night it would be the inventions fair, a bar local already chosen to set the mood for the night and a few university members stationed with scholarships in mind.

Both Vander and Silco were excited to witness the extraordinary kids they knew have the opportunity to show their talents to others and hopefully the collective dream of them changing the world would come true but fate always had to make its presence known in the doorway.

Blue sparkled out of the corner of Silco's eye as he leaned against the bar top waiting to continue his conversation with Vander. A half eaten apple sat beside his notebook that he was picking away at while conducting the accounting for the month. His back burned with his age from being hunched over for so long as he stood up to stretch.

Laughs echoed throughout the bar, feet dancing against the wooden plank floors, drinks clashing and spilling against the tables as another gets thrown out the side door. Powder had left a few moments ago with Echo, a certain mischievous look in her eye that Silco did not find unusual at the time would only shock his system now when he caught from reflection in the glass of his amber filled cup.

Your name graced his lips, remembering the feel, imaging your warmth against his skin and to feel it, to see it. He thought to be surreal, to be going senile as he looked to Vander for support and only found him smiling with a wink before turning back around to serve another customer.

Your skin was a thousand colours coming to life in his eyes, his hand drifting from the back of your fingertips, up your arm to your shoulder, neck upon which you shiver and rest your forehead upon his own. "How I've missed you," words that he only hoped to hear, have only read to himself in comfort written by his own hand- a fantasy turned reality now spoken to truth between your very own lips that Silco had to claim.

You melted into his touch, decades without the familiarity- him haunting your body with memory of his touch now appearing as goosebumps in recognition. You smile against his lips, hand running up against the smooth fabric of his vest before lacing in the silver locks of his hair.

Out of breath, you both pant, hands still gripping one another tightly as if afraid the other would disappear once more. "I thought to have lost you, to be so alone for so long. Why is it now that you appear just when I was surviving once again off of scraps?" Silco asks into your ear, not wanting to break this moment between the two of you. Even when in a crowded bar, it is only the two of you present in this moment.

"I would ask myself the same questions when I came back alive thanks to the technology developed in my universe and by what force I have yet to know, I am forever thankful for returning me, my soul, back to you to rest finally," you speak through tears mixing with Silco's silent ones dripping down his cheekbones and falling against your clothes that stain the fabric dark.

"I should thank that force as well," Silco murmurs, lost in your eyes, brushing away your tears. "I think it best we have the rest of this conversation elsewhere," Silco grabs your hand before pulling you out of the bar. The cheers and claps becoming distant as he leads you back to his apartment.

He locks the door behind you both, watching as you gently let go of his hand and walk around his space. Your hand feels the leather of your jacket still sat in the same place where you left it, against the couch in a forgotten moment of need. You continue towards the kitchen, seeing the various crayon pictures of Violet and Powder attached to the fridge who Silco explained to you before walking towards the bedroom. Your glass still waiting for you beside an unopened bottle you remember gifting Silco for his birthday.

"Why did you never open it?" You ask, fingers tracing around the neck of the bottle coated in a layer of dust you blow from your fingertips. "You said not to open it without you there to try it, I kept to my promise in hope for an impossible day like today. It was a reminder of not to drain my hope as many other's do."

All you can do is nod before holding the bottle in between your hands, a sickness suddenly washes over you as you take in Silco's form leaning against the doorframe. His arms crossed, leg tucked over the other and the scar of his yellow eye glowing warmly- lighting up the room amongst the candles.

He expects you to open the bottle, you understand that in doing so means you are to stay but that is something you cannot do. Not when Echo and the Professor are building a time-machine, not when your world is about to erupt in ruins.

You want nothing more to indulge more than you already had into this word of perfection and wrongs written right but that would be a cruelty brought upon this world. You knew you shouldn't have gone up to him, kissed him, felt his skin upon you skin only to take it away like the hopes of everyone else who had died during this war.

But you were only human, your heart already shattered and in need of repair, of warmth and kindness but you would only be selfish just as much as those you were out to strike down. "I-I can't open the bottle Silco. I-" you start to sob, hands shaking before placing the bottle back upon the nightstand.

You bring your knees back up to your chest, breaths heavy as your head spins, blood starting to drip down your nose, the reflection of blue out of the corner of your eyes as you gripping the sheets, knuckles turning white as Silco runs over, falling to his knees as he begs to see your face.

"Please, whatever is the matter, darling?" Silco asks, the sweetness of his tone doing nothing but to further indulge your nausea as you spiral. "I shouldn't have come to you, have done any of this!" You shout, trying to shove the man away but Silco only stands, wrapping his arms around your body as you do your best to kick and shove him away.

You look over his shoulder, watching as the sunsets through the window and sheer blinds. "Silco," you sob, fingers digging into the material of his vest once again in a panic rather than in reverence. "Silco, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that this was not forever, that this will only be another memory and perhaps the once that hurts the most knowing that I left rather than was forced to..."

"Then let me hurt, allow me to bleed, allow me to weep for I have endless time for that but only a finite time to be truly happy. So please, indulge me, drink it all and leave me once more with the knowledge that you are out there somewhere in another place, alive. Please, please," Silco begs turn into whispers as you press your tears into his neck before leaving a lingering kiss.

"Until the sunrise we shall be happy in the night," you speak softly in between kisses, your vision still clouded in tears.

"Until the sunrise," Silco restates before capturing your lips once more and sighing heavily. The moons bask ignites you both, lighting the liquid in your bodies burn as you take pleasure in one another.

You feel him, your hearts and souls connecting, rekindling in what is only to be heartbreak that makes you both press harder into one another. Leave marks across each others skin and kiss them delicately afterwards. It is in you both taking a bath afterwards until the cold waters have you both frozen still in realization as the sun rises and fills the room. Its warmth lost as you pick up your clothes and leave your jacket leaning against the couch once more.

You stare at the empty bottle at the bedside and watch as Silco picks it up and looks at you through it was a wavering smile. "Goodbye, my love and know that it was always you my soul yearns for and you who I define myself as."

"I really wish this didn't have to be the end, Silco...." you try your best not to sob, chocking on your words yet standing firm in your positions knowing that comforting one another would only make the hurt worse than it already was burning. "...in another life, I can see how easily we could have had it all- could have been happy."

"I wouldn't want any other memories than the ones we share," you nod in agreement, your body shakes, skin burns in want as you reach for the cold handle that sends shivers down your spine.

"Goodbye, Silco, I love you, forevermore."

"And I you."

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The walk to Jinx's place is a long and cold one, a thousand pairs of eyes stare at you with their condolences. You refuse to meet any of their stares, knowing that by just one look you would be running back into his arms for comfort.

Echo and Heimerdinger are already there and waiting for you, Echo extends his hand and lifts you up onto the platform. A swirl of arcane magic mixed fits the seeds of that all-too-familiar blue have you floating with a scream as the Professor sacrifices himself with one last salute to you both. Echo holds you, the loss of today holding heavy yet his touch is not what you yearn for as you cry into his jacket, gripping the collar of it as colours swirl around your vision and you are brought back to the battlefield once more.

Bullets wiz past your had, another graces your cheek as your blood falls like tears against the broken pavement. The roar of a monster rumbles the ground as you sprint towards the closing barriers, throwing yourself over them and into a sea of dead blue enforcers.

Screams haunt your ears, echoing distantly through your memories and brought forth into reality as you step over cast aside limbs and guns. You watch as Vi ahed of you holds another as they take their final breaths, a machine gun makes you loose hearing in your left ear and next thing you knew, a burning sensation was coming from your right leg where a ghastly wound had planted itself.

Hoisting and forcing yourself to stand you carry forth with a limp and defend the entrance, holding cover and watching as the trojan horse gets rolled in through the barriers all you can feel is Silco's marks as you charge forwards with an unrelenting cry.

─────── · ·

Silco fell back into the bed and stayed in that exact same numb position until Vander came to find him, "You know, there was a part of me debating weather or not to distract you from 'em and theres a part of me now that regrets not doin' so."

"It wouldn't have mattered anyways, the hurt of not seeing them when I got the chance to would have hurt just as much if not more. But I appreciate the sentiment, brother," Silco responds, rolling the cork of the bottle in between his thumb and finger.

"Finally drank it, huh?" Vander comments, picking up the bottle from the stand as gently as possible between his large hands. All Silco can do is smile, a singular tear dripping down his cheek that gets cast away, "yeah, something like that."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: so... what did y'all think?

#fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #x reader #simp-ly-writes #arcane silco #silco x reader #silco #au!silco x reader #older!silco x reader #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane fanficiton #angst #hurt no comfort #heavy angst #suggestive themes

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almostempty · 3 months ago

Text

too good to be true (frankie x f!reader)

Too good to be true (frankie morales x f!reader) | wc: 9k | other fics | Ao3

summary: frankie, a regular at your coffee shop, is there for you when your boyfriend joel breaks up with you and disappears practically overnight. despite not knowing each other long, frankie just seems to be perfect for you and you fall hard and fast

note: this was supposed to be for the accidental adultery trope for @auteurdelabre 's trope challenge from last month. i thought accidental adultery was more like the wrong bed trope so--you can find that here with Dieter's party, but it turns out accidental adultery is more like ..when you thought ur lover died in the war or something and you start a new life with someone else and then they show up again. that didn’t interest me- soooo (spoiler) in my version reader doesn’t know that joel only left her bc of frankie

warnings/tags: mdni explicit, smut, dark!frankie, stalker!frankie, dubcon, lies, deceit, coffee shop au gone wrong, accidental adultery, ex bf Joel, abandonment issues, anxiety, breakup grief, using sex to avoid processing emotions, face fucking, masturbation, crying, love bombing aka emotional manipulation/abuse, frankie doesn’t have a job bc he nefariously acquired a large cash settlement from his return trip to the jungle– or maybe he has a military pension idk don’t ask questions, revenge porn, jealousy, delusional reader, jealous and possessive frankie, if i missed something important pls let me know,

standard weds warnings: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction so it’s free to imagine it raw; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise, no specific descriptions; no y/n, likely many mistakes and i accept that 🫡

You don’t remember the first time you met, but you remember when you started looking forward to seeing Frankie. He was a quiet regular, didn’t ask for much, but was always polite. Kind. He’d come by at the same time, get the same coffee, and sit at a table in the lobby reading the news on his phone. Most mornings, you were busy enough that you didn’t even think about starting a conversation, but you’d sneak a glance here and there as he sat. Sometimes, he caught you, and you’d both flash a quick smile.

He was a fun little fantasy to look forward to. You weren’t single or looking anyway, but it didn’t hurt to have something to help you crawl out of bed at 3:30 AM. It was always quiet until just after 6 AM, when the commuters started coming through. Frankie usually came through the lobby just as the morning rush was picking up, curls still damp from his post-workout shower and a soft smile just for you.

Until it changed. He started showing up even earlier. That’s when you began to get to know him bit by bit. In the quiet dark of the early mornings, while the espresso machines warmed up and the

You learned that he moved into town this year–not in this neighborhood, but he likes the coffee here, so it’s worth the morning drive. He’s single. Ex-military. Sticks to a routine. Likes your name. Remembers details. Asks follow-up questions about your weekend plans on Monday mornings.

Did you and your boyfriend see that movie you were thinking about? Did you get to sleep in like you’d hoped? Did he take you to the farmer’s market? Did he like the recipe you wanted to try out?

It was sweet. And infuriating. Someone you barely knew always remembered your plans or the little throwaway comments you’d make. You knew it wasn’t intentional, but it always stung when he’d ask about your plans, and you were left coming up with excuses for why they never seemed to happen. You carried the discomfort home with you until it spilled over into your relationship.

And, thanks to Frankie really, it forced you to talk about it. Your boyfriend, Joel, had been drifting away. Complacent and avoidant. He’d been staying late at work, canceling on your weekend plans, always too tired to fuck, generally just a bad-tempered brick wall rather than a boyfriend. But after a serious conversation and some threats you hoped you wouldn’t have to follow through on, he’d agreed to make changes.

It was working, too. You made date nights a priority. You sent flirty texts during the day–even if neither of you had time to respond right away.

When he had long days during the week, you’d give him a back massage. You’d sit straddling his ass, rubbing down his shoulder blades, kneading circles with your thumbs, and savoring the view of his broad back and the warmth of his body under yours. You would pull the stress and tension away from his neck and spine, eliciting low groans of pleasure from Joel that would stir up the heat pooling in your core. You’d keep it up until you lulled him to sleep–or on your favorite nights–he’d flip over underneath you and watch you ride him until you were both slick with sweat, panting, and needing another quick shower before succumbing to sleep.

It’s those tender moments that make it hurt that much more now.

To think he could just throw you away like this. That he didn’t think you were worth the face-to-face conversation. Worth the closure. Just leaving you a fucking note, like you were a business transaction. Here’s your memo letting you know he no longer requires your services.

Fucking coward.

You re-read the letter for the thousandth time. It’s real, and you aren’t insane. You shove it back into your apron pocket. It’s your token. A reminder that this hell is your reality.

You slip back to the front counter, plastering on your best customer service smile.

But of course, it’s fucking Frankie. The concern is written across his face before he even gets to the counter. Are you that easy to read? You’re never going to make it through your shift.

“You doing okay?” he asks softly as if he might spook you. Stupid big brown eyes. Just like Joel’s. They make you weak. You can’t be weak. You try to shift into a more defensive mode–chest forward, shoulders back.

“Why? Do I look like shit today?”

“No, never,” he tries to reassure you. Always so sweet to you.

“Sorry, I just mean, I wouldn’t be surprised. I feel like shit.” You grumble as you grab his drip coffee and set it on the counter between the two of you.

“I take it he’s still gone then?”

You can only nod back in agreement. Can’t even look Frankie in the eyes; you just linger on his mouth and scruffy jaw where it seems safer to stare. Until his mouth shifts into a sympathetic frown.

“You deserve better, you know,” he says like it’s a confession. Only meant for you and his coffee to hear.

“Sure,” you sigh. Maybe he’s right. You deserve someone that can look you in the eye when they break up with you. Explain in more than a few sentences why they’d block you and disappear like a fucking ghost. Maybe you never really knew Joel at all if he could do this to you.

You can feel your eyes welling up again, your face is still swollen from crying all night, and you’re sick of the emotional whiplash. Did you miss the signs the whole time? Was it something you did? Will you ever know? The cafe starts to blur as your heart rate increases.

“Hey,” Frankie murmurs, “breathe.” It’s soft, but the timbre of his voice draws your attention. You focus on inhaling and exhaling, willing away the sobs. Just as you steady, they almost start all over again when you think about how pathetic you must seem to him. Standing at the register, sucking in shaky breath, and trying not to have a complete breakdown.

But Frankie assures you he doesn’t think you’re pathetic. And somehow, you get through the morning. And the next. Day by day, you crawl through the week against everything inside of you that wants to scream and hide in bed for a month. By the end of the week, the only thought that gets you through the opening routine is that it’s your last shift before the weekend.

There’s no way you could survive another shift just going through the motions like an undead barista. You know you’re on the edge, fragile and raw. You can just get through today and then spend the weekend locked in your bed wallowing, ugly crying, binge eating, anything.

Your flimsy resistance almost crumbles when Frankie shows up with flowers for you. It’s too sweet. He seems so concerned. He claims he wanted you to have something to help cheer you up over the weekend.

His thoughtful gesture is overwhelming. Having someone care about you, think of you, worry about you? And worse, to know that it could be so easy for someone to show you they care.

To know that you aren’t hard to love.

He notices the way your eyes shine, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. He apologizes, “If it’s too much, you don’t have to take them. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn’t want to make you cry.”

You assure him they’re lovely and that you appreciate the gesture. You give him your warmest smile through your misty eyes. And you take the flowers home.

You stare at them all weekend.

Your favorite flowers. How did he know? They make you think of Frankie all weekend. His smile, how reliable he is with his routine, his thoughtfulness, how kind he is to you.

The qualities you thought you had found in Joel.

You let yourself embrace your agony for the weekend. Determined to make it through at least the first stage of grief. As if you can allot a number of hours to it and just check it off your list.

A part of you admits that there’s something comforting about knowing you’ll see Frankie again Monday morning. That someone will check in on you.

And he does.

Reliable as ever, he shows up in the dark cover of the early morning. You greet each other with your deep morning voices, and there’s something about the fact that you’re the first person you both speak to every morning that draws a genuine smile from you.

You keep going to work. Frankie keeps showing up. The world keeps turning.

Days pass and you can start to fall asleep without having to exhaust yourself completely. Some of the weight on your chest sloughs off when your ribs shake with laughter at Frankie’s jokes. His charm brightens your dark days.

One afternoon, as you’re dropping an armful of grocery bags onto the counter, you notice the flowers he gave you. They’re starting to wilt. You hesitate to toss them for some reason. Convinced they’ve got another day in them, at least.

You sweep up the fallen petals and pollen, spinning the vase to find the best angle left. The flowers may be fading, but Frankie is beginning to occupy a permanent residence in your mind. You find yourself keeping mental notes of things you want to share with him the next morning. A joke about a show you both keep up with, something you saw on your walk home, a question you forgot to ask the day before because you were distracted.

Distracted by things that don’t sound like they could possibly be distracting. Like the curve of his bottom lip or the space where his neck meets his shoulder. Or worse, the way he smiles so wide you can see his dimples when you double down on an argument about a movie, TV show, or the best takeout on this side of town.

The next morning he has fresh flowers for you. It’s as if he knew you were hesitating to get rid of them, to lose the physical evidence. You squint at him with a playful accusation of how did you know they were on their last legs? He reasons it’s been a week already. A week. It feels like it’s only been a day, and at the same time, it feels like a whole month has passed.

It helps.

The following week is much of the same. Morning chats with Frankie. Busy shifts with rushes and endless cleaning tasks. Running errands, trying to keep in touch with friends, trying to keep yourself too busy and distracted to fall back into the sharp pain of loss. Of coming home to an empty apartment. Of waking up alone. Of the way Joel erased himself so completely from your life, you have to find tangible reminders that he was ever real.

You loosen your grip on the hope that Joel might show up with an apology or even respond to the text you had sent. He can’t even hear you out or answer a single question? You give up altogether on the idea that the whole thing might have been some confusing mistake.

There’s still a hole rotting in your heart, but if you stay busy enough, you can ignore it. Mostly.

You stick to your plan, steadfast that time will heal your wounds. Days pass, and you find yourself once again asking Frankie what he has planned for the day. But this time, he hesitates.

Frankie tells you he’ll be out of town for a few days. You aren’t sure why, but it feels like he jammed his fingers into that hole in your heart when he tells you. Don’t abandon me. Please.

He must see right through you.

“Here,” he says, holding out his hand. “I know it’s only a few days, but I was thinking I don’t want to miss out on your remarkably accurate reality TV predictions. You take the napkin with his number written on it. How old-fashioned. It makes your heart flutter. “Keep me updated.”

You swallow the butterflies and turn the energy into a smirk. “You’re so going to regret this,” you tease.

You feel lit from within, glowing and floaty for the rest of your shift. Getting the hot regular’s number gives you a rush. It’s not like he asked you on a date or anything, but still, it feels good to have someone want to keep talking to you.

Until you clock out and immediately start spiraling. Should you text him now just to give him your number? Wish him a safe trip? Play it cool and wait until tomorrow morning? Or maybe he’s busy in the morning? Shit. You never even asked what his trip was for.

��…

It’s early afternoon when Frankie’s phone buzzes. Your shift must have just ended.

You: it’s me!

You: figured it’s only fair you get my number now, too

Frankie: Hey you :)

You: hey :)

You: i hope the trip goes well

Frankie: Thanks, it’ll be better now.

You: how come?

He underestimated you. He thought he wouldn’t hear from you until tomorrow. Thought it would take longer.

Frankie: Well, I just got this pretty girl’s number. Now I’ve got her updates to look forward to.

He shakes his head to himself, pocketing his phone and stretching out on his sofa.

Maybe he didn’t need the ruse of being out of town at all. You don’t need the absence to suck you in any deeper; you’re moving on faster than he thought. Good.

He sprawls out across the couch like a lazy dog in the sun, TV on mute, still fully dressed. He drags his eyes over the bare walls of his apartment. He’s going to need the next few days to make the place seem a little more welcoming. More like a place you’d be happy to wake up in.

He checks the notes hidden in his phone of places you shop, your favorite color, the way your apartment is decorated. He already knows what you want. What you need. With that thought, he drifts off, satisfied, into a long nap.

He doesn’t wake until his evening alarm goes off, checking his phone to see what reality show you’re going to be glued to tonight. MILF manor. Who comes up with these? He rolls his eyes, stretching, yawning, and traipsing across his apartment to find some cold pizza in the fridge.

Holding one slice between his teeth and the other in one hand, he debates whether he should take a drive through your neighborhood or stay in for the night. His phone buzzes again, and he figures it’s a sign. He drops his pants near the hallway and scarfs his cold dinner as he settles back in the living room, unmuting the show and opening your messages.

You’re funny.

Sending quick-witted observations and callbacks.

You force him to pay attention. You’re sharp. If he doesn’t watch, you’ll know. You always call him out for missing the nuance. You challenge that he could predict the next winner if he paid closer attention.

When you get frustrated with him and huff about how he missed something completely obvious, he memorizes your expressions. The fire in your eyes when you’re passionate. You feel so deeply and express your emotions so freely.

He likes that about you. Funny. Smart. Bold. Passionate. Sexy.

Perfect.

He lets his mind wander as he leans back. The room glows from the light of the TV, flashing brighter and dimmer. The look on your face when he said he’d be gone for a few days pops into his mind, how your eyes flashed wide and the soft pout that tugged at your bottom lip.

You need him. It’s so clear. And you’re so perfect.

The show is just noise. Static.

He closes out of your messages. Opening up his photos. Scrolling through pictures of you. Some from social media, and some taken while you were working and unaware.

Perfect.

His eyes fall shut as he tips his head back, relaxed and comfortable as he sinks deeper into the cushion.

“Perfect lips, perfect mouth,” he mutters to himself as he sets the phone aside altogether.

It’s a simple but effective scene that plays out in his mind. A go-to fantasy since the day he first laid eyes on you.

He wedges his boxers down just far enough to free his half-hard cock. He tries to start slow, with languid strokes as he imagines the heat of your mouth sucking him deeper. The sight of you looking up at him with your lips stretched around him.

“Just perfect,” he groans to himself. He can’t hold back his urgency at the thought of you, quickly amping up the speed of his wrist and the strength of his grip. It’s minutes, or maybe seconds before his muscles are tensing and jerking as he comes to the thought of you.

It eases the tension, but he still needs you. Soon.

……

The rest of your week passes quickly.

Your head is in the clouds over your new texting buddy. You check your phone on all your breaks but send yourself into another spiral, trying to work out the balance between enthusiastic but not needy. Responding quickly, but not being too much. You don’t want to come off as crazy.

It fully absorbs your attention. The excitement and the anxiety. The rush when you get a new message and the anguish over every word you type. Rereading your messages until you get a response. Worrying yourself over your silly jokes and banter. But when he responds, it’s addictive. You’re smitten when he matches your energy or sends a flirty quip.

It makes you smile so hard your cheeks burn. You get distracted taking orders. It’s all-consuming.

………

Frankie keeps tabs on you the rest of the week. When you walk home from work, when you run errands, when you’re out with your friends. He picks up things for his apartment while you’re at work. At night, he drives down your block. He watches you watching TV. Until dark, then you diligently shut your curtains just as the last dregs of the sunset disappear.

Tonight, he lingers, still parked across the street from your apartment building. He sends another text, and his eyes flick to your curtains like you might open them back up just for him. You’re such a good girl for that, though–not letting anyone else watch.

Frankie: I’m back tomorrow. You have weekend plans?

You: that’s great! no plans for me

Frankie: You want to watch tomorrow’s episode together?

You: that would be fun!

Frankie: Perfect :)

………

You don’t know why you offered to host. You feel like your place has been a mess. Since Joel left, you’ve been letting your depression piles calcify. You shove your laundry into the washer, toss your unopened mail into a drawer, and do your best to make it look like you’re a fully functioning adult.

Something about having Frankie over has you feeling pent up.

You’re nervous. Excited. And you’re still unregulated and exhausted from the emotional devastation of Joel disappearing on you. You’ve been letting yourself sink into the distraction of making a new friend. A hot, new friend. But as helpful as the distraction is, you still haven’t really processed the pain.

Maybe it’s too soon to let yourself think about Frankie all the time. Maybe you need to really feel your misery and figure out what you missed. What you did wrong. No, even your body rejects that idea, sending a shiver of anxiety through you.

Fuck it.

You’re both single adults. There’s no rulebook that says you can’t entertain a new crush. So what’s the harm? You’re hoping that seeing Frankie in person will help you get clarity on the flirty vibe of his texts. Are they truly flirty, or are you just delusional?

You do your best to find a casual “just watching trash TV” type of outfit after your everything shower. You bought enough snacks to feed a high school football team, you know, just in case. You flutter around your space, hastily cleaning anything else you can think of, worried about details that only an evil in-law would scrutinize you for.

Despite your frenzy and feeling on edge all afternoon, the concern all seems to vanish when Frankie shows up at your door. You welcome him in and swoon a little over the fresh flowers he brought you. You still have some nerves that don’t relent, but they’re the smiley, giggly, butterfly type of nerves now.

As you get settled, it all feels surprisingly easy.

You make each other laugh. You offer your insane spread of snacks, and he settles next to you on your sofa before the episode starts. He appreciates all of your commentary and banters with you over your strongest opinions. It feels surprisingly natural to be spending time together like this. Without an espresso machine between you.

You’re taken with his presence. He balances you. Even when he debates your controversial takes and unpopular opinions, he doesn’t get worked up like you.

His calm demeanor is grounding. His nearness and steadiness relaxes you.

The stress let down makes your head feel heavy, and without thinking, you rest your temple against Frankie’s shoulder with a deep sigh. It feels comforting until you realize how forward you’re being and snap your head back up.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you blurt out, scooting away. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, voice soft and low.

He’s staring at you so intently. You feel the heat in your face, embarrassed at acting so comfortable with him and self-conscious under his gaze. You still don’t really know what he wants. And you don’t want to fuck anything up. But he doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, you swear his eyes drop to your mouth before they flick back up.

“More than okay,” he adds, and your stomach flips at his honesty. “Here,” he shifts and invites you to scoot under his arm. You get comfortable, resting your head on his chest.

You try to watch the TV, but you can feel Frankie watching you. It makes you restless and unable to think clearly. You peer up at him. It’s a charged look; maybe it was already obvious, but you hadn’t felt confident enough to put the pieces together until now.

“What?” You whisper, unable to fight the smile pulling at your mouth.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs.

Uh oh. Your breath hitches, and something in you cracks. A tear slips from the corner of your eye, and you try to hide it, whispering thanks into his chest and looking down.

“Hey,” he tilts your chin to look up at him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to will away the emotions that bubble up inside of you. “That’s really sweet of you.” You steady your breathing, slower and deeper. What is wrong with you? You expected something flirty. You didn’t expect something so.. heartfelt?

The more you slow your breathing, the more it feels like you’re inhaling the essence of Frankie. Whatever combination of laundry detergent, deodorant, body wash, whatever it is is all combined it’s soothing. Nice. It calms you.

But why? How does just breathing against him make you feel safe?

You can’t even think about safety. You can’t count on anyone else. What if he leaves out of nowhere, too? Your thoughts pick up, racing. Falling deeper into your anxieties. You aren’t even on a date; you shouldn’t be worried about this guy abandoning you.

Your fears eat at you, worsening your fragile state. Your body shakes gently as you try to breathe through the anxiety.

Frankie runs his hand along your back. He’s so warm, solid, and strong.

You feel like you must seem insane, which makes your emotional flooding worse. He just keeps murmuring at you about how you’re okay, and he pulls you into his arms to give you a firm hug, regulating you. Fixing you.

When you lean back to apologize for crying on him, he shakes his head in disagreement.

“Don’t apologize,” he says it like he means it, like he won’t be taking questions or arguments. You sniffle as you do your best to accept that. “You still look beautiful,” he says, pulling you back towards him.

It’s everything you didn’t know you needed to hear. Your face nestles against his neck. Delirious with your state of mind and his flattery and reassurance. You can’t stop yourself from kissing his neck. The exact spot you’ve been so distracted by on so many mornings. His skin is soft and warm; you can taste your tears, wet and salty on your lips. You do it again before you freeze. What are you doing?

Frankie’s hand slips up the back of your neck, cradling your head in his warm palm. It feels like encouragement. You test your theory, pressing another gentle kiss to his jaw where his scruffy beard tickles your nose.

The TV might still be on, but all you can hear is your breathing and his. The sound of your lips against his skin. And the low-pitched noise in Frankie’s throat that urges you on. Provoking a needful fire within you. Intense and frantic. You nip at his ear before stamping open-mouthed kisses back down his neck, pulling back only to breathe hot and humid against his skin.

You hesitate, a frenzied desire has you wanting to straddle his lap and take more and more, but something makes you pause. Frankie knows. He feels your weight shifting and makes the move for you, pulling you onto his lap.

“I know,” he says as his large hands wrap around both sides of your jaw. “Keep going.” The encouragement pours over you like warm honey. Face to face, you wrap your arms around his neck. The last thread of your doubt snaps and you close the gap. Pressing your lips together. Softly for a second, before your mouths are parting and your tongues and teeth work fervently to express your desire.

Then it becomes a desperate blur, your fingers curling into his hair, tugging until he’s groaning into your mouth. His hands slipping under your shirt, hot against your skin, snaking back down to knead the curve of your ass while you roll your hips, grinding into his lap in search of friction.

You feel him hardening beneath you and a molten hot thrill radiates between your legs. There’s a raw quality to your movements as you bite at his lip, scratch at his shoulders, and whine with a frustrated edge.

You’re taking out all your emotional distress on him. Or, rather, you’re begging him to erase it all, to bite back harder, to use force, to dominate. You keep trying to use your body instead of words. Just teeth, nails, and needy writhing. Anything sharp, forceful, rough. An offering.

Tears still roll down your cheeks, hot with anger, anguish, and everything you can’t name. You aren’t interested in exploring your emotions. You need something more visceral.

You sit back, hands shooting towards Frankie’s belt, chasing more, when he stops you in your tracks. His hand possessively grips below your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

Your cunt throbs at the look on his face. The soft, gentle Frankie is gone. His face is hard and dangerous as he studies you. For some reason that makes you want him even more.

His fingers dig into your cheek eliciting a sharp inhale from you, parting your lips into a small “o” shape, before he releases you. You know you’re a mess. Teary, panting, wild-eyed–but his lips curl into sinful grin. Reflexively you tilt your pelvis, drawing the heat of your core along the ridge of his erection. Your eyes flutter shut, as you aim to forget yourself and focus on the sensation.

But his chest shakes, jostling you in his lap, with his rumbly, dark chuckle. It’s condescending, startling you and stilling your hips. You blink at Frankie. The charged air is thick. The rest of the room has faded. Your brows furrow as you wonder, but your thighs tense.

“Keep going.”

It’s a demand this time, not an affirmation or encourager. His sinister smirk is gone, replaced by a frighteningly blank stare. His carnivorous eyes drop, watching your fingers as you work open his belt and jeans.

Shit. You can tell he’s big as you trace your fingers along his cock, over his boxers, savoring the heat in your palm. The damp fabric at the tip pleases you, and you peel the waistband down to reveal the glorious vision that has you wetting your lips.

“Shit,” you repeat out loud this time. A primal, hungry need possesses you as you admire his cock. The glistening head, thick shaft, and dark patch of curls at the base. Just the sight of him is intoxicatingly masculine and dominant.

You need him in your mouth.

You slink off his lap, sinking to your knees between his legs. Excitement flutters in your pussy and you feel like you’ve fallen into a into a trance. Your body moves faster than your mind, tugging at his jeans as he repositions at the edge of the couch.

“I know,” he mutters under his breath as you wrap your hand around the smooth skin. “I know what you need,” he continues. You can only hum in response. Preoccupied by the slip of your thumb dragging a trail of precome down along the underside of his cock.

He cups the back of your head, urging you towards his tip with a commanding open growled down at you. You want to pout for not getting the chance to tease and savor the moment, but you don’t have the time when he slides past your lips and hits the back of your throat.

You choke, sputtering around him and pulling back. His hand encourages you to try again and you’re eager to take it like he gives it. Refocusing on controlling your breath, you look up to see the fierceness in his eyes on his otherwise blank face. A confusing mix of warning and excitement stirs in your core, making you squirm on your knees.

The discomfort makes something flicker across his face.

You try again, determined, like you’ve got something to prove. You pull his other hand to your cheek. Please lead. You catch the start of a smirk on his face before he’s guiding you once again. It makes your mind blank; all you can do is breathe and focus on relaxing your muscles. It’s a welcome release from the stress. Grounding you in the present. You can only think as fast as he can glide along your tongue.

As you build a rhythm, he verges on brutal, but when you’re rewarded with the delicious sound of Frankie groaning because of you the intensity means nothing. Your eyes water as you refuse to gag out of sheer willpower. His thumb smears your tears across your cheekbone, and he pulls you off of his cock.

He takes in your swollen lips, ragged breathing, and wet lashes like he’s committing the details to memory as you catch your breath, before he’s tapping at your cheek. You open wide for him and he rests the head of his cock on your tongue, shallowly tipping you back and forth.

Your jaw could be aching or your knees may be digging into the rug, but it doesn’t matter to you. It’s much easier to meditate on the weight of his length slipping along your wet tongue. Centering yourself on that thought, your eyes flutter shut.

You wonder if this side of Frankie has always been lurking beneath the surface. Chillingly collected, but with something viscous bleeding into the edges. You wonder if maybe you’ve called to this part of him with the mayhem of your state of mind.

“Yeah,” Frankie rasps in his gravelly tone causing you to blink back up at him. You wonder if he can read your mind; if he was answering you. The hint of a smile remains on the corner of his lips when you look up, “Making you feel better already.” He’s presumptive but accurate.

You give a muffled affirmation that vibrates in your throat as he slides past your lips and you take him deep as he can be. All your senses are filled with Frankie when you inhale, when you swallow, when you blink. You give, pliant for him, trusting him with the control. You don’t worry about how obscene you might look with tears rolling down your cheeks. You just want to hear what other sounds he might make for you. His thumb drags over your cheek again, wiping away the wet streaks.

“This is the only reason you ever cry for me.” Frankie’s voice is dripping with affection. And possession.

It makes everything foggy. The sentiment, the delivery, the authority. He doesn’t let you dwell on the unspoken commitment in his statement. Doesn’t give you the time to question him or spiral inward.

Your head swims until he pulls you up, strips you, and settles you back onto his lap. Some action movie autoplayed after your episode ended. The crashing and explosions of the chase scene in the background don’t ruin the moment, in a twisted way it’s almost a fitting soundtrack for the two of you.

Frankie allows you to pull his shirt up, over his head, and time slows. The warmth radiating between your bodies is nothing compared to the searing heat of Frankie’s gaze. It’s dizzying, between his torrid expression and his grip on your hips as he guides you closer.

You go entirely mindless when the head of his cock nudges your clit, gasping as he slips along your wet seam. It brings everything into focus for you, and you reach between your bodies to guide him directly to your deplorably empty cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” your word turns to a groan as he breaches your entrance, and you tense at the stretch, holding still.

“Keep going,” he orders lowly, and you inch down until he impatiently takes control, slamming you down until you meet his hips. Your mouth hangs open at his move and the immediate fullness. His hardened look softens as your walls ripple and flex, adjusting to his size.

At least until you start moving, grinding against him, slowly at first. Then the sharp sternness returns. You’re unaware, chasing the friction as your clit rubs against the dark hair surrounding the base of his cock.

“Knew you’d be perfect,” he says it more like an I told you so to himself than praise for you, but the words affect you just the same. Your chest rises, swelling with pride, and you chase his approval instead of your pleasure.

You ride him until your thighs burn. His hands are everywhere. Rolling your nipples between his fingers, squeezing all of your soft curves, spreading your legs wider to watch where he disappears inside of you. You bounce eagerly for him, spine arching to draw his eyes to the way your tits ripple from the force of your body colliding into his.

You whine in disapproval when he interrupts you, pulling you flush against his chest, grazing his teeth along your neck. “Give it to me,” Frankie demands, his voice rough and raw, breath hot along your sweat-damp skin.

He runs his hand down your body, thumb circling your clit, adding the pressure you need. You edge closer and closer, body taut with anticipation. “Come for me,” he commands. It’s the authority and his gravelly voice rolling through you that launches you into a shuddering release.

Frankie continues talking while you’re disoriented by the overwhelming pleasure. “For me,” he grunts through clenched teeth as your pussy contracts around him. “I know that’s what you need.” You can only moan as you cling to his broad shoulders. “Only me.”

You figure he’s just rambling until he grabs you by the jaw again, demanding you respond. Demanding you repeat it for him. And you do. With glassy eyes and you mutter his words back to him. Declaring you only come for him. That you need him.

Your words unlock something within Frankie. “Good,” he approves. “Good girl.” He praises you gruffly as he holds you steady, pounding into you with an untamed strength. You’re floating, starry-eyed and softheaded at his praise. Murmuring sentence fragments and his name, conjuring throaty grunts from Frankie until he stills, coming deep inside of you. “Only me,” he echoes and you confirm.

“Only you.”

In your unguarded state, it’s a welcome commitment. Maybe you haven’t had any real dates yet, but he knows you. He wants you. He tells you he wants to take care of you, and that feels fucking good.

You collapse against his chest, matching his breathing. The movie playing behind you reaches a tragic twist, setting the third act in motion and solidifying the protagonists dark path. You run your tongue along the column of Frankie’s throat as the score of the film hangs unresolved on a dissonant chord. He pulls you to his lips, kissing you possessively and captivating you.

Your bodies flow, connected and attuned. In his lap, in his arms, with his tongue slipping between your lips, you feel wanted. Assured. Content to accept that he knows what you need.

And he’s unrelenting. Determined to prove it to you. Again and again.

All night. On the couch, in the shower, in your bed.

Until the night bleeds into the morning and he doesn’t disappear.

You take turns waking and watching one another sleep. Verifying he’s real. Watching your chest rise and fall before drifting off again. Until the sun heats your room and you wake again to find yourself curled into his broad frame. His chest to your back as he draws his fingers down your along the dip and swell of your waist and hip.

“Did you mean it?” you ask, in a strikingly solemn tone for the soft setting. Breath shallow as you stare off toward the window. Not ready to turn and face him in the daylight.

“Every word.” He punctuates his affirmation with a tender kiss behind your ear. His reassurance satisfies you; warmth blooms from your chest spreading to your fingers and toes.

You spend a lazy Sunday together. Eating, laughing, fucking, and gazing at each other like lovesick teenagers. It’s too sweet to end. Instead, you become inseparable, taking turns staying at each other’s places until you have to go back.

The world feels bright again. Lighter.

He had paid such close attention as you got to know each other. He’s almost suspiciously perfect. Picking up your favorite takeout meals, putting on your favorite movies, and keeping your flowers fresh as the weeks pass.

You feel like you can never get enough of him somehow. You think about him all day at work, even though he still visits you every morning like clockwork. Your heart swells when he meets you at the end of your shift to walk you home.

You find yourself canceling your happy hour dates with friends to stay in with Frankie instead. Postponing and rescheduling, you’ll see them soon. It’s like there aren’t enough minutes in the day to get your fill of Frankie.

You’re insatiable, always needing him in your mouth, between your legs, fucking you through the mattress, on the counter, any surface you can find. You’re never too much. He’s equally infatuated with you, a mutual obsession. Fulfilling your darker desires and unleashing fantasies you’ve never felt safe enough to explore. He’s greedy and hungry for you. Making you feel wanted and desired.

With your head in the clouds, all you can see is how much he cares about you. He texts you whenever you’re apart, picks you up after your shifts, shows you off to his friends.

You barely have to do anything for yourself. He’s always thinking of you, predicting your needs before know them yourself. He picks up your mail for you, runs errands before you get home, and stocks his apartment with all of the products you use and love so you don’t have to go home for days at a time.

Things are so good that it’s rare when something goes wrong.

But when it does, it really fucking hurts.

When you get into an argument, a real one, he doesn’t fight with you. He leaves, swiftly and without another word. He doesn’t respond to your texts or calls. It feels like you’ve been torn in half; you sob and shake alone in your bed until your alarm blares and your headache throbs.

He doesn’t respond the following day, doesn’t come in for coffee, and doesn’t show any signs of existing. You move through your shift like a hollow corpse haunting the cafe. Time drags agonizingly slowly.

Every time the door opens your eyes snap towards the entrance, hoping to see the familiar curls and broad shoulders, but it’s not him. You restart your phone just on the odd chance there’s something wrong with it. He wouldn’t abandon you. He knows that would destroy you.

The void in your chest is cold and dark. Anger simmers somewhere inside of it, but it’s not strong enough to set you off. When Frankie shows up at the end of your shift, the anger is snuffed out completely. His presence immediately reverses your heartbreak, and suddenly you’re apologizing to him before he gets a word out.

You have to. He has to know you wouldn’t do anything to make him leave. He can’t. He’s calm, accepting your apology and taking you home where he erases your pain. With his hands, and mouth, and cock. Until you forget what the argument was ever about, and what it felt like to watch him walk away. Until it’s back to normal.

Every day you rely on him more and more; you can’t breathe without him. But when he’s with you, everything feels easy. Right.

Not many things can throw the two of you off. Your friends seem happy enough for you, despite their questions and insistence that you come out with them more often. You get along well with Frankie’s friends. They’re quick witted and welcome you genuinely.

They treat you like family, but it doesn’t stop Frankie’s jealousy from flaring up. If Benny smiles at you for too long or if you rest a hand on Will’s bicep when you laugh it only takes minutes before Frankie’s fingers dig into your arm and he whisks you away.

It gives you a perverse thrill every time.

When he folds you over the bathroom counter at his friend’s house. Demanding you watch in the mirror as he reminds you with a fierce snarl and devastating thrusts that you’re his. When you can still hear his friends horseing around outside, but he pounds into you with such force, you can’t quiet yourself. He slaps a hand around your mouth to silence you, growling into your ear that you’ll take it quietly, like a good girl.

Sometimes you aren’t even sure what triggers him.

Like when he fucks you against the side of his SUV in the parking lot of the trendy bar Benny had invited you both to. All you can piece together is Frankie muttering something about your dress as he yanks the top of it down letting your tits spill into the cool night air. He’s reckless and animalistic, claiming you roughly under the stars and streetlights before you can even get into the car let alone through your front door.

…..

Tonight, you both know exactly what got under his skin. Maybe not the why of it all, but he’s sure you know how he feels, and he wants to hear you say it.

It started this afternoon. He picked you up from work, like usual, and you chatted in the car as he drove to the grocery store. You sighed, tiredly as you recounted an exchange with a rude customer, but when Frankie pulled your hand towards his mouth to press a gentle kiss to the delicate skin on your inner wrist.

Predictably, it brightened your features. Knowing your buttons doesn’t dull the intoxicating effect you have on him, though. He loves the way you light up so easily for him and it serves to deepen his conviction time and time again. Like a constant affirmation that he is where he is supposed to be. That everything he does for is exactly what he should be doing. Exactly what you need.

He was still ruminating on this as you led him through the aisles of the grocery store. Unbothered that you had to double back to the produce section after forgetting some fresh herb you determined was crucial to the dish you planned out. You dashed around the corner in front of him, with a giggle when Frankie’s heart stilled.

He didn’t have time to distract you. Your laughter cut off immediately.

“What the fuck?” you muttered and Frankie grabbed your hand.

Joel’s pace quickened as he brushed past you. Your head turned, calling his name once, but Joel carried on as if you didn’t exist. Frankie studied your face, emotions flooded your expression as you watched Joel walking away. Something darker flickered across them.

Frankie followed your line of sight. Flowers. Joel was carrying a bouquet of flowers.

You apologized to Frankie. Clearly thrown off, but determined not to let it get to you or to Frankie.

“I didn’t know he even lived here still,” you remarked.

He doesn’t. The possessive fire burned through Frankie’s veins. “We’re going,” he commanded in a low tone that made your eyes flare wide.

“What?”

“Now.”

“We can’t leave everything.”

“They won’t arrest us.” He argued, as he all but carried you out the door, ushering you in a blur to his car and all the way home. Frankie moved swiftly and silently. Wholly consumed by the need to feel you writhing underneath him and crying out his name. He needed it so viscerally, he didn’t even have time to process how he was going to deal with Joel.

Until you’re breathless and shuddering beneath him. Repeating everything he wants to hear.

“Only for you,” you repeat as you rake your nails down his shoulder blades and the plane of his back.

“Again,” he demands. You don’t know if he wants you to keep talking or to come again, but both are inevitable at this point.

“I’m yours,” you pant, wrapping your legs around him as if you could pull him any deeper inside of you. He shifts slightly, angling your hips and your cunt clenches around him pulling him devastatingly close to the edge as you moan his name.

He stills and you whine in protest as Frankie stretches past you to pick his phone up off the bedside table. “Keep going,” he orders as he points the lens at you. He needs you to say it again. He adjusts to resume his pace, snapping his hips into causing your lips to part with another moan.

“I’m yours,” you repeat, “all yours.” He gives you a dark smile as he records you. Capturing all the lewd, wet sounds as he drives his cock into you, the euphoric smile that spreads on your face, and the words you know he always wants to hear.

“Mine,” he agrees.

……

You don’t see Joel again. And you don’t have time to dwell on the encounter anyway. Frankie keeps you busy and satisfied, and even surprises you by asking you to move in with him officially. Maybe it feels soon, but you spend nearly every day together anyway and the idea delights you.

It’s an easy transition. You downsize some of your duplicate appliances, joking with him about how he must have great taste for having so many of the same products. He admits that you inspired a few of his purchases.

You settle into a routine quickly, not much changes.

Sometimes in the early morning, when you slip out of bed in the dark to get ready for your shift, you wonder if it’s all real. If someone can care about you as deeply as you care about them. But by the time you’re showered and dressed, he greets you with a sleepy kiss before pulling on his usual workout attire and driving you to work.

You let your gaze linger this morning. Trailing along his profile as he drives, admiring all the details that you used to wonder about from the other side of the counter. His neck, those arms, his hands, those lips. They’re illuminated in flashes as you pass under the streetlights.

You catch the twitch at the corner of his mouth. He always knows when you’re looking. He rests a hand just above your knee. He always knows what you need. And idea takes root in your mind, and you do everything to stop yourself from smiling and giving yourself away. It’ll take a few days to organize. He’s almost impossible to surprise.

……

Later in the week, Frankie is on autopilot. Kicking off his shoes and pulling his sweaty shirt over his head before he lopes towards the ensuite for a shower. He only makes it a few strides before he’s on edge, noticing the lights he didn’t remember leaving on. He hears your voice. Relief and confusion twist together in his chest. How did you get back here before him?

Walking into the bedroom you are a sexy surprise wrapped in red lingerie he’s never seen you wear before, but something is wrong. Your shoulders are curled inward, your cheeks are wet, and you’re hastily tying up your matching red satin robe.

He scans the room, swallowing thickly when he notices the open coset door and the missing box on the shelf.

He calls your name softly.

“What is this, Frankie?” your voice shakes. Unsteady and wavering between fear and anger.

You hold up his phone. Well, his other phone. Shit.

…..

“Answer me,” you beg. Desperate for an explanation. For something to make sense. To understand how you went looking for the box with fuzzy handcuffs and instead found a phone with a new message from a number you still recognized.

Your heart is pounding in your chest and when he takes you into his arms you flinch. You want to shove him off of you. Despite your hostility, your body is still drawn to his. He always knows what you need. In his arms your heart feels tethered to his, like they could merge through the proximity of your rib cages. Like they beat for each other.

“You trust me, right?” he asks.

“Explain, please,” is all you can whisper.

“It was to keep you safe,” he starts.

“From what?”

“To protect you. Joel wasn’t good for you. He couldn’t take care of you. Not the way you deserve.”

“How would you know?” it’s still not making sense to you.

“You told me.” He’s so self-assured. Like, he’s always right. Like, he can’t even imagine why you’d be upset right now. “I did it for you,” he adds.

“Did what?” you need him to say it out loud. You need him to fix this.

“I know you thought Joel was trying, but he was only going to drag it out. Disappoint you over and over. Can you imagine what it would’ve been like for me to watch you go through that?”

You don’t answer.

“I couldn’t watch. I made him an offer, but he’s a stubborn man.”

You snort quietly at that understatement. Nobody tells Joel what to do.

“I just had to find the right leverage.”

Frankie holds you so tight, you can’t wriggle around to look him in the eyes.

“He couldn’t give you what you need, not like I can. I know what you need. And, think of how fast you got over him anyway. You were mine all along.”

You’re lightheaded. From the shock of finding the evidence. From his words. From the way you believe him. You want to sit down. You tap at his arms insistently, begging against his chest, but he keeps talking. His deep voice rumbling in your ears.

“You wouldn’t have understood it then. I had to keep it from you to protect you. So we could have what we have now.” He’s not listening to you. Not letting you go. It makes you snap.

“Let go of me!”

“You have to understand first.”

“I’ll listen,” you plead. “Just let me breathe.” He lets you step back, but doesn’t release you from his grip. His hands are glued to your arms. He waits, steady and chillingly calm.

Slowly, the pieces start to fall into place. The unanswered questions from your breakup. The way Joel completely vanished.

“I thought he just left,” you whisper to yourself.

“He did,” Frankie argues.

“I thought he didn’t want me,” you continue.

“He didn’t. Not the way that I want you.”

Something cold trickles down your spine and you look at Frankie. For a moment he’s a complete stranger. Your stomach sinks and your vision spins. Slamming your eyes shut you filter through your racing thoughts.

It wasn’t fate that led you into Frankie’s arms.

You wound up crying on his cock by design, trying to fuck away the pain of a heartbreak that wasn’t even real. You’ve fallen into a whole new life, while the man you had loved may have never stopped loving you back?

“You blackmailed Joel Miller?”

“Technically, it’s extortion.”

It’s all there on the surface. Exposed between the two of you. Who Frankie really is. Cunning and competent. Devoted and dangerous. Possessive and powerful.

“It worked, until he came to town for someone’s engagement party.”

“When we saw him at the store?” Frankie nods. “And then you sent him the video we made.”

“Hearing it from you seemed to do the trick. He knows you’re mine and you only want me.”

Frankie gives you time to study him. Absorbing the information. The gleam in his dark eyes. The same eyes from when he would visit you at work. Just as fierce and just as earnest.

You’ve always known him for his true self. He’s been yours since he first laid eyes on you. And he knew you needed him.

“And you did it… for us.”

“For you.”

You can see it plainly on his face. He’d do it again and again to have you. Because you’re his. It’s all you ever wanted. It has to be wrong, but it’s the hottest thing anyone has ever done for you.

You push him back towards the bed, climbing onto his lap in a recreation of the first night you spent together. It’s reflexive. The magnetic pull between you has your hips rolling in his lap as he’s already hardening beneath you.

“You’re sick,” you tell him before you lick a hot stripe up his neck.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he growls back before you’re crashing into him with a ravenous kiss.

dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40 tags for folks who seemed interested when i shared a lil wip about it (aka no worries tags)

@hoelaris @punkseyes @ace-turned-confused @magneticecstasy @lotusbxtch

@bitchesuntitled

@baronessvonglitter

@thundermartini @milla-frenchy

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #ppcu fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader

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starcrossed-lov3rz · 6 months ago

Text

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 10

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, yelling, plot

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 1.2K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“So the witch appeared to you in the godswood and claimed that you are the replacement for our y/n, who apparently died?” Daemon muses. He’s seated across from you, arms folded as he lounges back in the chair.

You grip the mug of warm tea tighter, nodding.

“Forgive us for being skeptical my love,” Rhaenyra sighs as her hand grips your shoulder. “But if the witch was still within kings landing, the guards would have found her by now.”

Your frown deepens and you feel a twinge of pain begin behind your eyes. A migraine is threatening to begin. It was one thing for you husband and wife to not believe you before today. You thought surely that a witch disappearing before their eyes would be enough to convince them that some things just cannot be explained.

Pulling Rhaenyra’s hand from your shoulder, you squeeze it before dropping the necklace that witch gave you into her palm. “I understand this is difficult, Nyra,” you begin, “but she knew things that I hadn’t even told you and Daemon. This is the necklace my grandmother gave me.”

“Your grandmother has given you many gifts, love.” Daemon argues.

You groan in frustration, pulling the necklace from Nyra’s grip and pointing out the small engraving on the back. To My Dear Y/N

“Daemon, do you honestly know a single goldsmith that could create this?”

Daemon doesn’t respond, looking at Rhaenyra instead. “My love, can we just move past this? You did not die months ago. You are not from a different reality.”

You stand up, pocketing your necklace as you walk away. Pausing in the doorway, you glance over your shoulder. “I love you both so much, but right now I cannot be around you.” “Y/n-” Daemon stands up to stop you.

“No.” You say, brushing his hand off of your shoulder. “I’m tired of this. I was fine with you not believing me before. But we all saw what happened in the small council chambers. You both saw me disappear in the godswood. You both saw my fucking necklace!”

“Tread carefully,” Rhaenyra says. “Mind your tone, I am still your queen.”

“And I’m your fucking wife!” you hiss. “Or does that only matter when I’m warming your bed and raising our children?!”

“This conversation is over,” Daemon orders. “You are clearly not in the right headspace to have this discussion.”

Daemon’s dismissal is enough to change your mind. Any plans you had to storm out were instantly gone. You stalk up to stand chest to chest with your husband. “You know what? This conversation isn’t over.”

“Y/n, the witch is just messing with your head-”

“No. That witch offered to take me home, and I turned her down.” You say. “I turned her down because I made the mistake of falling in love.” You’re crying, tears streaming down your face. “I fell in love with both of you. I love you, and our kids, and our dragons, and fuck it I even love needlepoint.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon’s gaze softens. Daemon moves to wrap you in a hug, but you step back.

“If you can’t accept me for who I really am, then maybe this isn’t where I belong.”

You turn around, walking out of the room. Rhaenyra follows, “where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to my world,” you say, navigating the maze of hallways to try and find the godswood. “The witch told me to return to the godswood if I wanted to leave.”

“You cannot, I forbid it,” Daemon says. He must have followed Rhaenyra. You couldn’t care less. They both could walk right up to the heart tree with you for all you care.

“Oh you forbid it, do you?” you hiss.

“Yes!” Daemon grabs your arm, pulling you towards him.

You try to wrench your arm from his grip, but it’s useless. “So let me get this straight,” you say. “You refuse to believe that other realities are possible, but you forbid me from going to one?”

Daemon’s brows furrow, and his grip loosens for a second. Seeing your window of opportunity, you twist your arm from his grip and bolt out the last set of doors to the godswood. Daemon and Rhaenyra run after you. You’re sure the sight of the Queen and Prince Consort running through the keep is hilarious, but you don’t bother turning around to see.

You pick up your skirts as you run through the godswood, trying to avoid getting them caught on any brush or lower branches.

“Y/n, stop!” Daemon has caught up to you. He reaches over to stop you, but you manage to evade his hands.

Lower hanging branches scratch at your arms as you duck and weave through the trees. The heart tree comes into sight, and you feel a twinge of sadness. Just hours ago you were planning to forsake your past life for the two people now chasing you through the woods. Your pace slows to a halt as you approach the heart tree.

“Y/n, think about this,” Rhaenyra pleaded. “Just come back to our rooms and we can talk.”

“Talk?” you ask, bewildered. “Everytime I try to talk about this, you shut me down!” Fuck, where is that witch? She said to come back here if you wanted to go home, but how are you supposed to get home? You hear a whisper on the wind. The heart tree, lay your hand upon the heart tree. Your hand raises, reaching out to the tree.

“What are you doin-” Rhaenyra asks.

The bark beneath your palm begins to glow and soften. Your hand sinks into the tree. This must be the way back.

“Y/n, get back that is not safe!”

You ignore Daemon’s plea, and instead reach further into the tree. You can’t feel the other side, but the entire trunk is glowing. Gritting your teeth in determination, you take a step forward into the trunk. Your eyes shut as you walk forward through the tree.

“Y/n!” You hear Daemon yell and feel his hand at your back. “Do not be afraid, I have you!” He’s trying to pull you out the tree. You feel some force from the other side of the tree drag you. Once Daemon realizes he can’t pull you out, you feel his arms wrap around your waist.

The force drags your both out the other side. You both stumble out of the tree, falling to the ground as you catch your bearings.

“Where the hell are we?” Daemon asks, standing to take in his surroundings. He helps you up, dusting off your dress as you gaze around.

The tree behind you is identical to the heart tree in the keep. But as you look out, you and Daemon are clearly standing in the middle of a city park. The street and cars are visible from your position.

“We’re in my world now.”

NOTE: Sorry for the long wait! My summer job is over this coming Friday, so I will be able to update more frequently next week! Also very exacting, we managed to stumble from Westeros to Earth! Rhaenyra is probably panicking at home, but Daemon is (probably) gonna love the tourist life. Also, we are totally gonna get smut again (eventually - trust the process lol) ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @syraxnyra , @avalyaaa , @angeliccss , @clocksonthewall79 , @sia2raw , @forma-lina , @lorarri , @imoonkiss , @ba6ysworld , @abaker74 , @aniisbavk1, @different-tale-student , @cruelladevil4, @ronswhoree, @Lbl252003, @18dmlk, @beca2468 , @hnm-mika , @brocomegetyobitch, @pendejalian , @xoxoluvs-world, @lexasaurs634 , @jaydemon99 , @lovelyy-moonlight , @lavender2ari, @katiemars, @waitaminuteashh , @Judgementdayfan1, @shadyloveobject, @winterrnight , @malfoycassimalfoy , @Gracielacie, @serenitytomothings, @xoxo-shiyah, @Aoi_targaryen, @ghostlyvoidydragon , @spacexdrago , @asgardian1023 , @madamevirgo , @ahyespubes , @cowboybaby2 , @sm3156 , @ashlatano7567 , @cheat2tea , @kmatrixx1130 , @babygallori-38, @nicksolemlyswears, @jubilee40 , @dimue , @coolmantha921, @ynbutbetter , @macaulaytwins , @idk-idk-idk-idk23 , @lavender2ari, @the-brainr0tt , @kamarimartell , @bluecloudsworld , @anonymous989, @uniquecutie-puffs , @mimitoupe01, @ace-spades-1 , @urmomsgirlfriend1 , @insufferablelust , @lilsyl , @spacexdrago , @ella-rose45 , @essiexxz , @apollonshootafar , @myheartfollower, @baybaybear1 , @povofjustme

Want to be added to a taglist? Click HERE!

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #daemon targaryen #rheanyra targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon x y/n #daemon x rhaenyra x reader #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x y/n #queen rhaenyra

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raz-writes-the-thing · 5 months ago

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A Rather Short and Sharp Descent (Beetlejuice One-Shot)

Betelgeuse x AFAB!GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: When you'd struck a deal with the demonic ghost, you'd not expected to fall for him. Perhaps less so, you hadn't expected to be tumbling quite down this path...

Fic Type: Smut (dumbification, daddy kink, slight degradation tw)

Everything Tag List: @winchxters @calliopesdiary

Betelgeuse Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Had it been two hours or three? More? You can't remember- you can't even remember what time of the day it is. You can remember the magically altered sets of fingers and tongues that have thoroughly fucked you from the inside out, though.

It's not like he'd let you forget that, anyway.

“Aww, lookit that, dollface. Nothin’ in there, huh? Good. That’s the way ol’ Beej likes it. Doin’ a good job, babe.”

You tried to respond, but it just came out as a garbled moan.

"Yeah, that's it. Just a little fuckinnn mess for me, aintcha?"

Your brows pinched, mouth dropping open as his fingers felt like they pulsed inside you. They probably did, knowing him. Beej laughed above you, eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. Oh, he was going to make you work for it.

"B-Beej," you drooled, and he pouted at you mockingly in response.

"Look atcha, tryin' to make sentences and everything. It'd be cute if it weren't so pathetic, huh?" Another second and his free hand swatted at your ass, the sting biting- not that you didn't love the pain. "Beej, Beej, Beej, huh? Yeah, you fuckin' love me an' my thick fuckin' cock, babe."

And you did. You couldn't wait for him to fuck you with it. That ache begging for him inside you was starting to make you antsy. Sure you had his physically altered fingers buried inside you, but it wasn’t the same. God, it would never be the same as having him leer over you, cock twitching from the inside.

Truth be told, you weren’t even sure how you’d managed to get yourself into this situation in the first place. You’d found a flyer that had quite literally blown into your face on the street one day and said the name three times with such disbelief that you had all but died of a heart attack when the being belonging to said name appeared so suddenly and with a ridiculous amount of theatrics.

Then it was on to the business of making deals, of course. Betelgeuse had let you know in his round-a-bout way that he’d noticed you had a pesky little problem that needed fixing and he was more than happy to do the job. There was, of course, just the matter of payment, though. Sure, he could scare the absolute fuck out of your roommate until they fucked off into the sunset but not without payment. Nothing much, not your soul or anything. No, what Betelgeuse wanted from you was, of all things… a kiss.

Naturally, you’d been suspicious that planting one (with tongue, as he had insisted) onto a demonic ghost with a penchant for absolute chaos wouldn’t come with any other side effects, such as selling your soul over or something. But a kiss? Just one kiss? Surely that wouldn’t be too bad.

As it turns out, it didn’t have any side effects that you were expecting. Instead, it led you down a path with a rather short and sharp descent into the circles of Hell. Sin, specifically. Either way, it was a short path with many tongues, fingers and cocks to ease your way down.

You didn’t even realise how fast you fell for him. Nor he for you, most likely. But soon enough he was around often enough that you couldn’t call it a fling any more. This was something different. You’d caught him sizing your ring finger the other night, actually. Eyeballing it, mostly, but you could tell what that eye meant.

“‘Ey, babe- you in there? Or are y’too fucked dumb to respond anymore, huh?”

You groaned, thoughts hazing in and out a little, though they were brought sharply into focus as he withdrew his fingers and stuck his rather long tongue out to lick them clean.

Seeing your hungry gaze, he offered them to you next—an offering you took up without an ounce of hesitation. Fuck, you tasted good.

Those very same fingers slid from your mouth and down around your throat, brushing against the thrum of your pulse beneath your soft, thin skin. It would take almost nothing for him to kill you. But he wouldn’t. He was too fond of you- his favourite Flesh Bag as he called you.

His eyes glinted above you, drinking in the sight of your spit-slick lips, red and swollen. Your throat pressed against his fingers, warmer than you’d expect for a dead man. Slowly, softly, he pushed you down onto your back, legs bent and spread wide for him to slot his hips between.

Finally, finally, you were going to get what you needed.

“Uh-uh, my precious little dummy, not yet. You think you deserve this cock? D’you really? Think hard on it now, hard as I know that is for your empty little brain.”

“Y-yes,” you replied almost instantly, trying to roll your hips against him- trying to goad him into fucking you dumb just the way you like. Well. Dumber.

“‘Y-yes’ what, babe?”

Risking a glance at his expression, your mouth practically watered at the carnal look there. Dark, hungry. He wanted this just as much as you did. Needed it, even, perhaps.

“Yes, daddy.”

“That’s it. That’s fuckin’ it, babe. Fuckin daddy-o, that’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to come out of the haze a little now despite the slap of his cock against your clit. He was doing it to tease you, the fucker.

“Beej, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I might go genuinely insane.”

“Ladies and gents,” Betelgeuse snorted, talking to an invisible audience. “Can’t keep ‘em off me, eh? Desperate little thing. Cute though.”

But despite the pleasure he usually got from torturing you from hours on end (you think as if he hadn’t just spent the last two to three hours fingerfucking you to oblivion), he gave in, softly rolling his hips against you- sinking inside so slowly you almost felt like yelling at him to just hurry up.

“Ohh, fuck me,” you moaned, head dropping back against the pillows as he finally sunk completely inside you. The thing about Beej was that he was always able to alter any of his shapes to be exactly what you needed when you needed it. And today, he knew you wanted someone on the larger side. Not that you wouldn’t be happy with average, either, but sometimes there was just a need for something a little more specific. Beej knew that, too.

“Alright, alright,” he huffed amusedly, punctuating the sentence with one of his very unique laughs. “Shut up for me a sec, babe,” he said, placing a hand over your mouth as he pulled back and slammed back against you. “Yeah, that’s it.”

He set a punishing pace, eyes rolling quite literally into the back of his head with pleasure. While the object of torture had been you over the last few hours, there was some element of torture for him, too, not being able to sink balls deep into your tight little cunt and fuck you until he was sated. But not anymore.

Slowly as he fucked you, his hand slipped from your mouth, allowing your pretty moans to escape into the heated air. Betelgeuse moaned, running his hand down your throat and down your side to grip at your hip. His fingers squeezed harshly into the soft muscle there, and you tilted your hips as best as you could to rock back against him.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Betelgeuse groaned, leaning down to shower sharp bites down your neck and shoulders. He always had been a biter. There was something about the contrast of the blood coming to the surface under the skin, the way those indents slowly softened into pretty bruises spreading across your skin like a grim meadow that drove him insane. “Not gonna last long, babe.”

That was okay with you, you weren’t going to last long either. You hadn’t realised how fast you were approaching your orgasm- and the deadline skyrocketed closer as his hand disappeared between your legs where you were most sensitive.

“God, fuck, Beej- I, fuck, like that, please,” you cried out, reaching out to encircle your arms around his shoulders. You pulled him down and over you. From an outside perspective, you were absolutely sure that he would look like a violent predator about to rip apart his prey.

His hips fucked into you without mercy, fingers rubbing against your most sensitive area. Your mouth was open in a practically permanent ‘o’- something that Betelgeuse took full advantage of as his lips landed on yours. His tongue flicked at your lower lip and it was that in conjunction with the savage thrust of his hips and non-stop-just-right fingers that catapulted you right over that edge.

With a cry you weren’t sure actually made any sound or not, you felt your pleasure bubble over like a boiling pot on a stove, spilling over the edges and roiling up your spine. You could feel your orgasm all the way in your toes and even in your scalp, you realised distantly.

Oh, wait, no, that was Betelgeuse’s fingers knotted in your hair, pulling as he chased his own orgasm now, hips choppy yet brutal. Every thrust forced your orgasm out longer, tingles of pleasure shooting through your nerves even as you started to come down from it.

“Oh, oh, yeah, that’s it, babe. Fuckin little toy for daddy, aintcha- yeah,” he rambled with pleasure, eyes screwed tight as he finally, finally came-

You sagged into the bed as he slowly stopped thrusting, cock still inside you. With a grunt, he laid down on top of you, forcing a grunt out of you as he did so. Your hand raised lazily to rub at his back.

“Fuck, Beej,” you panted, eyes drifting closed as the glow started to overtake you. “You’re going to ruin me.”

Betelgeuse snorted playfully, already starting to recover. He had a freaky ability to be able to go, and go, and go- and then barely need rest afterwards. Perks of being dead, you supposed.

“What, like I ain’t already?”

Well, you couldn’t argue with that.

#beetlejuice x reader #Betelgeuse x reader #Betelgeuse x you #beetlejuice x you #beetlejuice fic #Betelgeuse fic #beetlejuice smut #betelgeuse smut

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sterekeverlasting · 5 months ago

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our love is as boundless as the sea itself

fic by @evanesdust and @sterekbros, featuring art by multiE for the Sterek Everlasting Summer 2024 Edition

You can read the magazine online here

Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Chef Stiles Stilinski, Marine biologist Derek Hale, Getting to Know Each Other, Falling In Love, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Meet-Cute, Ocean, Beaches, Beach Sex, Walks On The Beach, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Happy Ending, No Angst, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

Summary:

Derek tried not to stare, but Stiles was even more attractive up close—with lips that he absolutely shouldn’t want to kiss, considering they were strangers. He had to mentally shake the thoughts away because this wasn’t like him. He cleared his throat and nodded toward the trucks. “So, do you have experience with turtle rescue? We’re always looking for more volunteers.” “Yeah, yeah. I used to help sometimes with my mom here when I was a kid, but I’ve been volunteering in New York for the past seven years.” Stiles rested his hands on his hips and glanced around the beach before his eyes returned to Derek. “I’ve read one of your pamphlets though.” Stiles’ eyes trailed down and then up Derek’s body. “How many do you think are out here?” Was he…? Derek paused, his thoughts momentarily scattered by Stiles’ blatant once-over. Usually, he didn’t care for attention like that, but Stiles’ gaze was oddly flattering. It was different somehow. Refreshing. “We’re estimating hundreds,” he finally responded. “But we won’t have a clear idea until we’ve scoured the entire area. It’s going to be a long day. Think you’re up for it?” Derek hoped he was. ...or the one where a chance encounter led to more.

#sterek #sterek magazine #derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #derek/stiles #sterek fanfic #sterek is eternal #stiles x derek #sterekmagazine #sterek fanart #stiles/derek #teen wolf #teenwolf #eternalsterek #sterekeverlasting

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wholoveseggs · 3 months ago

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Kinktober - {Day Twenty-Two}

{<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Plussized!Reader} Request {Anon}: I have a request for kinktober and elijah, (you think you can make it a lare reader x elijah? There is not nearly enough of those floating around) with kinks 18, 21, and 22 (I hope that's not to many!)

♡♡♡ Because I am dumb it took me so long to figure out your typo 'lare'... I even googled 'lare kink'.... only to realize you meant large... sighhhhh I'm growing less and less sharp in my old age... Anywhooo me & my fellow plus!sized girles deserve a man like him ~xoxo ♡♡♡

1.5k words - Kinks: dom!Elijah, sex toys, standing sex, insecure!reader, plus!reader, Elijah having none of your self-loathing & being a bit angry about it, mildest of mild dubcon...

Elijah watched you from the doorway of your bedroom.

You were staring into your full-length mirror, dressed in your underwear. The look of sadness on your face pulled at his heartstrings.

He was about to make his presence known when your hands moved to grab the plump flesh of your stomach and sides. You turned from side to side, and Elijah could see that you were frowning, and looking critically at your figure.

Elijah felt anger at your behavior, the way you looked down on the body he so enjoyed. You were soft, and curvy, with breasts and ass and hips he adored, and you could not appreciate it.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen you doing this, but it was the first time he decided to act. No longer would he let you fester in your own self-deprecation.

You didn't hear him, too engrossed in the thoughts running through your head, so you jumped when you saw his reflection standing behind you in the mirror.

"Eli-" You began to speak, but the words died in your throat as Elijah wrapped an arm around your waist.

"Why do you look at yourself with such disdain?" He asked, his voice quiet in your ear.

You squirmed under his intense gaze, and you tried to remove his hands from your hips.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You said, avoiding eye contact.

He tutted, and you pulled away, only to have him drag you back towards him. His lips found the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and you sighed as he sucked and kissed at the skin.

"You are perfect," Elijah growled, his hands roaming up and down your sides.

You scoffed, struggling in his grip. You didn't want him touching you right now, you didn't feel desirable, and you didn't want his pity. All you wanted to do was hide, but his hold was unbreakable.

He let out a frustrated sigh, before grabbing you and tossing you on the bed. You landed with a surprised gasp, and before you could sit up, Elijah was over you, pinning you to the mattress.

You pushed on his chest, trying to get him off, but he didn't budge. His eyes were dark, his hair falling messily around his face.

"Do you think I'm a liar?" He asked, and the question threw you off. You shook your head, avoiding his gaze.

"Look at me."

You forced yourself to meet his eyes.

"What do you see?"

"An asshole?" You replied sarcastically, and his face tightened, displeased with your attitude.

"I see a strong, stubborn woman, who is the most gorgeous thing I've ever laid my eyes on."

Your heart fluttered at his words, but you pushed them away.

"You have to say that," You mumbled, looking away. "You're my boyfriend."

He leaned down and kissed you, his hands caressing the soft skin of your stomach. You kissed him back, but there was still tension in your shoulders, and he pulled away, sitting back.

"You still don't believe me."

You didn't respond, and he shook his head. He got off the bed, and you sat up, expecting him to leave. Instead, he grabbed your legs, pulling you so your ass was just at the edge of the bed.

He knelt on the floor, spreading your legs and pressing kisses to the inside of your thighs. His hand caressed your legs, moving higher and higher, until he reached the hem of your underwear.

"May I?" He asked, his fingers brushing the elastic. You hesitated, but eventually nodded, and he pulled them off.

Elijah kissed your mound, then used his hands to spread your lower lips. You squirmed as his tongue ran up your slit, and when he focused on your clit, you couldn't help but moan.

His tongue moved expertly, and your mind blanked as the pleasure built. His hands were firm on your thighs, keeping you open and preventing you from clamping them shut.

"Eli!" You gasped, and you could feel the smirk against your sensitive flesh. Your orgasm hit hard, and you were a gasping, quivering mess when Elijah sat up, his face glistening with your arousal.

He licked his lips, then stood, shrugging off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. You stared at him, eyes hazy with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Elijah opened the drawer of your nightstand, rummaging around before pulling out a small vibrator. Your eyes widened, and you closed your legs, your self doubt creeping back.

He noticed your reaction, and sighed. He climbed onto the bed, grabbing your thighs and pulling them apart, before leaning over you and kissing you deeply.

"Let me show you how beautiful you are."

He pressed the toy to your clit, and turned it on, the sudden stimulation making you jump. He rubbed it slowly, and the vibrations had you moaning.

"Elijah," You whined, and he smirked.

"Do you like that, darling?" He asked, and you nodded. "Tell me."

"I love it," You breathed, and he hummed, kissing you again.

"Good girl," He said, and you felt your walls clench around nothing. You heard the sound of his zipper, and you looked down to see him pulling his cock free.

Your legs trembled at the sight, and he chuckled, pressing the tip to your dripping pussy.

"So eager," He murmured, and you whimpered as he rubbed his length up and down your slit. He pushed in suddenly, bottoming out.

"Repeat after me," Elijah commanded. "My body is beautiful."

"M-my body is beautiful," You echoed, and he thrust into you, a choked gasp escaping your lips.

"My curves are irresistible," He said, and you swallowed the lump in your throat, repeating his words.

"My ass is delectable."

"My ass is de-ah!" You broke off as he increased the intensity of the vibrations, and his hips snapped into yours.

He chuckled darkly, taking your hand and making you hold the toy. "Keep it pressed against yourself, and don't come."

You obeyed, the constant stimulation making you desperate. His hands were now free to grab your hips, holding you tightly as he pounded into you.

The headboard banged against the wall, and his grip was sure to leave bruises, but all you could focus on was the delicious drag of his cock, the way his body covered yours, his hot breath on your ear as he panted.

"My breasts are magnificent."

"M-My breasts are magnificent," You gasped, and the hand on your hip moved up, his fingers pinching your nipple.

You yelped as his thrusts became impossibly fast, tapping into his supernatural speed. He fucked into you, and the sound of his thighs slapping against yours was obscene.

He kissed the corner of your mouth. "You're so fucking perfect, and I can't believe you can't see it."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and you moaned as the coil in your belly wound tighter.

"Are you going to come for me, angel?"

You nodded, and he took the toy from your hand, switching it up to an even higher setting. "Not yet."

You were a babbling mess, your pussy dripping wet as Elijah's cock slammed into you. His warm hands held your ass, lifting your hips up and moving you to meet his thrusts.

"Please, Elijah," You begged, and his hips stuttered. "Please, I need to come."

"Not until I tell you to," He growled, and you whined. He smirked, and pressed the vibrator to your clit.

"Oh god, oh my god- Elijah- please, please, please-" You chanted, and he slowed his movements.

Your legs were shaking, and the feeling was becoming overwhelming, his lips on your skin and his body covering yours.

"There we go," He coaxed, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. “You can let go now, my perfect angel."

His command was enough, and the coil inside you snapped. He kept the vibrator on, prolonging your orgasm, and it was almost painful as the aftershocks wracked through you.

Elijah groaned at the sight of you coming, and he cast the vibrator aside, grabbing your hips and picking you up. He stood, lifting you up and down on his cock, grunting at the feeling of your pulsating pussy.

You could barely think, holding onto his shoulders tightly, you were only aware enough to kiss him, the sensation of being held up and fucked almost too much.

"Where should I come, my sweet?" He asked, his breathing labored.

"In me," You replied, and his eyes darkened.

"What was that, baby? Say it again."

"Come inside me," You repeated, and he smiled, his hips thrusting one last time as he emptied himself inside you.

"God, your pussy is perfect," He groaned, his grip tight. "You feel so good, baby."

You moaned, your overstimulated clit rubbing against his pelvis, and you clenched around his cock, the feeling of him spilling inside you sending a rush through you.

You collapsed against him, and he wrapped his arms around you, his cock still inside you as he laid on the bed. He pulled the comforter over the two of you, and kissed your forehead, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.

"Now do you believe me?"

You smiled. "No, but I'd love another demonstration."

Elijah growled, his arms tightening around you.

"Oh, don't worry. I plan on showing you exactly how beautiful I find you for a long, long time."

{<- kinktober masterlist}

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 16 days ago

Text

title: deserted by fate

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: arcane

rating: PG

length of fic: LONG. it’s long. but lots of flash back scenes and building of the relationship.

genre: angst / romance / fluff at the end

pairing: jayce x reader x viktor

summary: fate never favored a trio. fates favorite was always a duo. and she knew who fate would favor. she hated being right.

note: not beta read. proof read so many times the words blurred together and i deleted an entire section that i couldn’t get back and had to rewrite. over all though, it should be good!

tag list: @night-fall-moon

there was once three. a trio. two partners and their assistant.

three friends.

three…

three……

three………

but one was always forgotten.

—————————

the silence as war died down left an eerie rattling inside the ears of those who had survived. as they looked around to see the wreckage, some who were still marked with the iridescent galaxy that the Machine Herald had left on them, others, not a physical reminder in sight on their bodies. they didn’t need one though, as piltover sat in ruins. the blood of those who died stained the marble steps. colorful dye still stained the air from jinx and the firelights entrance. but she, the third, the spare, the left behind, stood in the middle of it, unsure whether to cry, scream or run to the scene in front of her.

where the machine herald- no- where viktor and jayce were immortalized in a blinding brilliant metal, jayce knelt with his hammer in his grasp and viktor’s hand perched along jayce’s forehead.

the tears, she realized, fell on their own. leaked out of her eyes and fell past her face but she felt none of that. numb completely as she stared at the hollow husks of the two men in front of her.

her mind repeating…

three…

three……

three………

there was to be three of them.

three creators and inventors of hextech. three researchers. three friends…

they told her that…

three… lovers…

there were three… supposed to be three…

she supposed though that destiny had always lended its hand to favor the duo over the trio.

—————————

“you know…” jayce trailed off as he sat next to viktor and pulled her legs over his lap. “many times in books, the trio never makes it. fate always favors a duo.” he said it with that joking grin, tempting fate. daring it to try to make good on its word. viktor had the decency to look at jayce disbelieving.

“why would you say that? tempt anything that would ever want to pull us apart?” he questioned, looking between jayce and her. jayce shrugged, looking sheepish.

“because they never could. we’re tied together. you guys go, i go.” he shrugged again. she looked at both of them and then down at the ground.

“fate would favor you both.” she whispered. their eyes widened.

“never say that miláček.” viktor ground out turning to her, side eying jayce as a ‘look what you’ve done’.

“yeah, i wasn’t serious, darling.” jayce said, bring her closer to him and viktor. “we’re in this together and we’ll always be.”

—————————

“we’re in this together…”

“we’ll always be…”

together…

together……

together………

—————————

she should have known that was a warning flag. the conversation they had. and they weren’t together. not now. she was right. fate had favored them, in some twisted sense of humor, divine intervention or not, fate had carved out a spot where both jayce and viktor could be together leaving her behind.

she was the one to pick up the pieces… she always had been, why would this be any different?

—————————

“viktor, please! it’s dangerous! you can’t be serious!” she yelled, her anxious anger causing her voice to bellow. his eyes sliced her down as he looked her way, the glare he had for her held nothing but contempt as she tried to stop him.

“while you may have your life ahead of you, i am on borrowed time miláček.” he rose his chin looking down at her as she had put her self between him and the hexcore. “now move out of my way. i will only ask once.”

the tears were hot as they streamed down her face and shook her head. his eyes widening at her disobedience. he took a step forward but before anything could happen, jayce walked in.

“what is happening?” he asked, setting his supplies down and slowly walking over to both of them. before viktor could open his mouth she was quick to explain.

“he was trying to add more of his blood to the hexcore. he’s already done it a few times and i refuse to let him do it again. why can’t you see it’s changing you viktor? you’re not the same. please!” she begged him, no longer looking at jayce but pleading with viktor to see reason.

eyes widening, jayce moved to step in front of her. “viktor, you can’t do that. we don’t know how it will react.”

“we’ll never know if we don’t try.” viktor ground out.

“not on you.” jayce said softly. “you’re too precious for us to loose.” this stopped viktor as it was almost like flicking on a light behind his eyes. he blinked and looked at jayce and then her.

“i-i am so sorry. oh… miláček… i am so so sorry…” he started to come forward, and stopped when she took a step back reactively. his eyes widened.

“darling, please. i’m sorry.” he begged, and she could never refuse him. neither her nor jayce could��

that had been the third time that viktor had tried to add more of his biology with the hexcore.

—————————

three…

three……

three………

three times… three people…

—————————

her feet felt cemented on the marble, watching the sun play off the statues of her lovers, standing in the blood of who knew how many. her first step felt like she was chained by stones under water, attempting to walk. her second was easier, but felt like getting your foot out of quicksand. the third felt easiest and carried the most momentum as she stumbled to them, running, her body finally falling, kneeling between them and resting on jayce’s back. three shallow breaths was all she was allowed before her sobs came in full force as she clutched the hand viktor had by his side and her arm wrapped around jayce’s neck,sobbing into what would be his left shoulder.

“you-you-you

you promised…

you promised……

you promised……… me.”

her cries bellowed out around the square below, drawing disgusted glances and pitying onlookers as they saw the hextech geniuses assistant, the third partner, the sole survivor… cry out in anguish. despair. heartbreak.

“i always told you fate favored you.” she whispered, sitting there with them until their figures were carted away. with instructions from her for them to be put in the lab that they worked in, which was somehow still standing.

—————————

being in the very same lab that both… viktor and jayce had spent so much time in, herself included, felt sickening. the lack of their presence ate at her, leaving her hollow and mauled in the tide of grief. everything was as it was. nothing had moved. it was as if it was a museum. a museum of them. their chairs at the farthest point of the room. jayce’s rolling chair and viktor’s rolling stool he used often. for a moment, the lab seemed to be lighter, golden light filtering in as jayce and viktor were huddled around a notebook, talking about some equation. their heads both whip to her and smiles grow on their faces, and when she blinks, the lab is darker, filled with the blue light of the setting sun and they are no where to be found.

she walked to the couch across the lab, her fingers grazing the fabric, as she picked it up and wrapped it around herself. it smelled like them…

“guys, please, stop! it’s cold!” she pouted as jayce held the blanket too high for her to reach, viktor doing nothing but egging it on.

“just jump up and get it, my love! you can do it!” his laugh ringing through the lab.

she pulled the blanket tighter, it wasn’t cold in the lab but she was cold. no, it wasn’t cold. her body felt like it was missing an integral part to function, and now that it had been stripped away she couldn’t rebalance. walking over to viktor’s desk she looked over all the plans that were still in tact, his desk almost exactly how he left it. hot tears welling in her eyes again as she saw his favorite mug, the one jayce got for him, sitting off to the right, long cold and molded over with his favorite tea still inside. her fingers brushed against the handle.

viktor took a sip of his tea as she watched standing next to him.

“can i try that?” she asked.

“sure.” he waved his hand at her. she took a sip and almost spit out the drink. “why is there alcohol in that damned tea?”

he turned to her and smiled, holding up a small bottle.

“you spiked it before i drank it?” her tone incredulous.

“can’t hold your liquor.” he asked as she glared at him. he got up still chuckling and grabbed the cup from her hand. “come. i’ll show you how to make the tea and we can try this cup together.” he motioned for her to follow him and she did.

she always followed him. would have followed both of them to the ends of the earth if they had let her. her jaw clenching as she tried to hold back more tears as she picked up on of his many notebooks. seeing a not that was stuck in there. she pulled it out realizing it was a small note she had given to him. it was just a little something she would do is leave notes on their desks as both viktor and jayce would always light up reading them. she opened viktor’s journal realizing it was his personal one, not looking at the entries but seeing that he had kept every single one of her notes. even taking some of the doodles she would make on their schematics and taping them in. she clutched the book to her chest and walked over to jayce’s desk.

looking at the photo of him and his mom was overwhelming and she set the photo down so she didn’t have to see it. didn’t want to be faced with the reality that more people were mourning these two as it felt like that could sweep her under the current and she was barely treading water currently. looking through his notes as well she saw underneath a few sheets of equations, the pen she got him. she grabbed it, smiling as tears came back. she had gotten this pen for him for some holiday and he had used it so much that the first refill in the pen ran out. he had no idea there were other refills.

“noooooo…” jayce whined as the sound of manic scribbling was heard. “no. no. no no no no no. what the-“

“language.” viktor stopped him, not looking up. a heavy sigh heaved from jayce as his head hit the desk.

“what’s wrong?” her voice rang out from the couch.

“the one you got me? it’s out of ink! and i can’t use it anymore!” jayce looked up, almost pouting.

“then get another one?” viktor said, turning to look at jayce like he lost his mind.

“no! this is the special pen. it was part of the gift you gave me last week! it’s special!” he says looking at her. her mouth trying to fight the smile and consequently the laugh that was threatening to bubble up. she quietly got up, went to her desk and pulled out a white box. holding it out to jayce at his desk she nodded at the box and he took it. viktor watching the whole interaction with an amused glint in his eyes.

“what is this?” jayce asked looking between them both.

“just open it, ya big baby.” she said, chuckling. he smiled at the comment and opened it, his eyes widening. thousands of refills were in the box for the pen. “i was going to give this to you later but i didn’t think you’d run that refill out of ink in a week.” she admitted. his eyes lit up as he quickly replaced the refill to the pen, without her even needing to demonstrate. he tested it on paper and when it started writing again, jayce looked at her like she hung the moon.

“thank you.” he whispered and pulled her to him, his head resting her stomach for a moment, inhaling and then lifting up and nodding to himself, trying to give the pen refill box back.

“just keep it.” she said as she fluffed his hair and walked by viktor doing the same, earning a disgruntled noise from viktor. “i fear that you’ll need them often.” jayce nodded and put them in the drawer on the right.

“when do i get a special pen that i can use?” viktor’s voice asked as he looked at her now settled back in on the couch.

“how about i get you one for your birthday?” she asked and he nodded, seemingly happy with that answer as he turned back again and got to work. her making a mental note to get another one of those pens the next day.

as she opened that same drawer, the refill box was there, open and had five left. she chuckled and held jayce’s pen in his hand. the realization hitting her, viktor wasn’t going to be here to celebrate his next birthday. she walked to her desk and took out the box, holding the complimentary pen. jayce’s was golden, similar to viktor’s eyes and also the gold in house talis colors. viktor’s pen was a deep emerald, similar to zaun’s colors, with the metal being a deeper golden color. holding their notebooks and pens in her hands felt haunting. neither would be here for their birthday’s… her birthday… the pain rose in the chest as she collapsed near her desk. her body shaking as she moved over to jayce and viktor’s side. near their desks. trying to be close to them. but how can you be close with a ghost?

———————

many whispers, glares and disgusted looks were weathered as she joined the crowd of those gathering to place names of loved ones written on parchment in the basket to be burned. she pulled her hood up further hoping to blend in as the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her was uncomfortable and magnified the hurt even more.

“i can’t believe you’re here.” a man said looking at her. she looked up at him, her eyes glazed over, darkness under her eyes from not sleeping.

“your fucking partners killed my wife… my son.” he yelled as he started towards her. enforcers restrained him.

one walks over to her, “do you know this man?” he asks her. she shakes her head. he gives her a second glance. “take the stairs up there, people are gathering there, smaller crowd.” he says before he leaves. the tears in her eyes threaten to fall as she looks up to the sky, silently thanking her partners, taking it as them intervening.

walking up the stairs feels similar to the day of the fighting. when she saw them. each step feels heavy. each step is a battle itself.

finally reaching the baskets she takes her slips of paper, jayce and viktors name written on three different slips of paper and places them together in three separate baskets. just in case someone saw them and decided to not let them be burned. a fourth stayed with her, in her pocket. she turns to leave and is stopped as ximena, jayce’s mother stands behind her. their eyes widen and ximena looks her over. the cloak she wears is black, with gold clasps. but that isn’t what draws jayce’s mother’s attention. it’s the pin on the cloak, a hammer, the talis house crest. jayce’s talis house crest.

“ximena, i-“ before anything else is said, she brings her into a hug, the feeling of loss settling in her chest like a weight at the acknowledgment of her presence from jayce’s mom.

“you have been so brave.” she whispers. at that her eyes fill with tears as she sobs into ximena’s shoulder. she smells like jayce did and it makes her sob harder.

“i miss him so much. so much. i miss them both, ximena.” she cries as ximena’s hands draw her head up and she looks at her, nodding.

“i know. i know you do. i do too.” she shows her paper she brought for the ceremony.

written in ximena’s handwriting is jayce and viktor’s name. the way she’s written them it reads viktor and jayce talis. which somehow makes her cry more at ximena’s paper, at the thought of marriage and a future that could no longer be a reality. until she sees her own name at the top. the note reads her name, viktor and jayce talis. looking up at ximena questioningly, ximena smiles knowingly.

“a part of you died that day too. i mourn that as well, my dear.” she nods, tears slipping from her eyes. the same eyes that used to look at her with love. jayce’s eyes. they always joked he had his momma’s eyes because he was a momma’s boy. now, it just hurt to see. to remember. she looked down at the ground. “and he was going to marry you both, i know he was.” ximena smiles sadly, as tears leak from her eyes, informing her thinking it a kindness. it only tears deeper at the hole they left in her. but that’s not ximena’s fault.

“i’m going up to the roof to watch everything.” announcing her leave.

“just be careful, mija.” ximena murmurs as she nods again and leaves.

—————————

watching the papers fly through the air like stars ascending to the sky was cathartic for some she imagined. that’s what jayce and viktor were, two stars, burning so bright and brilliant that she had no choice but to be attracted to their light. or maybe they were the sun and the moon, so opposite but complimentary and she was just one of the many stars in the sky that admired them. they being so magnetic that they brought her into their orbit, destroying her as they exploded, for celestial bodies that burn so bright only have so much time until they do explode and take everything with them.

a lighter in hand, she takes out the piece of paper she held onto, looking at how both her and ximena both put jayce and viktor talis. she grabs a pen from her pocket, her own pen, which became a force of habit to keep on her working with inventors and hesitated before writing her own name down and burning the slip. watching it rise with the rest. ximena was right. a part of her died that day too.

—————————

the issue when an inventor goes off on a genocidal killing spree of the majority of humanity is it is very difficult to ensure that who they were before is not erased from memory. exactly what the piltover council moved to do, as its first order of business, once the halls were cleaned, the marble treated of the blood stains, the pillars resurrected and the dead buried. exactly why she walked to the council chambers with purpose and the speed of if hell hounds were on her ankles.

the erasure would happen over her dead body. she opened the door and was unnoticed as heard the council speaking.

“the council moves to strike viktor, hextech inventor and former academy’s dean’s assistant from any involvement with hextech. all credit will be solely to jayce talis of house talis. those in favor?” a voice floated through. she knew not who it was as she never paid much attention to the council. that was jayce and his doing. wanting to create a spectacle and make connections. one of the many things he was good at, even though deep down he hated it.

“i object.” her voice echoed as she walked into the room. the council turned towards her, many widening their eyes as they realized who she was. the room was empty except for the council members. intruding on a private meeting was something new.

“this is a closed council meeting. you should not be here.” the one at the head of the table threw out. her eye twitched, at his tone and his dismissal of her.

“and you should not be discussing mine and my partners project without me present councilor.” she said as she stepped up to where jayce’s seat was at the table and stood off the left. “there are members of the founding team for hextech still alive.”

“you were their assistant. you contributed nothing to the project.”

nothing…

nothing……

nothing……….

—————————

“you can’t let them get under your skin baby.” jayce murmured as she glared up at him.

“no, you never mention me and you hardly mention viktor when talking about hextech anymore. we have contributed as much as you have. how dare you try and erase us. what happened to partners?” she asked, thinly concealed venom in her voice.

“you know that’s not true. there are just times where-“ jayce didn’t finish his sentence.

“where councilor medarda has encouraged you to not say anything about us because viktor is from zaun and i am a poor piltoverian? i heard her talking to you three weeks ago jayce.” he had the decency to look ashamed.

“if you’re not going to include me, at the very least, ensure viktor is up there with your name. or will that ruin the “man of progress” image you’ve so carefully crafted?” snarling his title at him, she walked off, not letting him say anything else. she entered into the lab, sitting down and thankfully viktor was too absorbed in his notes to talk to her or observe she was upset. stewing was interrupted from a knock on the door hours later. expecting it to be jayce she opened the door not looking at who was there but when two finely dressed men came in and sat two very expensive looking boxes down and handed both her and viktor an envelope, then left, had you feeling dumbfounded.

“what is this?” viktor asked, his accent heavy with the lack of speaking for the past 4 hours.

“i don’t know.” was whispered from her as she walked toward the box and opened it. inside was the most gorgeous blue dress, looking as though it was made of the starry night sky itself. viktor, who had followed you gasped at seeing it. looking at her then the dress.

“that will be very beautiful on you. but where are you going?” he asked.

“where are we going?” she corrected pointing to his box, as his eyes widened. each of them slowly approaching his box like it would explode. he opened it, finding a suit and tie, matching her dress completely.

“what is going on?” viktor murmured as she looked down at the envelope in hand. she opened it, eyes scanning over the document.

“viktor, i think we’ve been invited to the inventors inaugural ball tonight.” her eyes not leaving the page.

“what?” his tone shocked and in disbelief until he saw his invitation as well. “jayce was to go to this tonight, why would we be invited?”

she shrugged, and flipped over the envelope. holding it up to viktor so he can see what was written on the back.

“NO CHOICE!” was written in all capitals and underlined three times, on both invitations. both knowing this must be important.

“we have an hour to get ready vik.” she looked at him and he sighed, resigned to his fate, knowing that there would not be a request of him if not absolutely important.

“best hop to it? don’t you always say?” pointing to the back where the washroom was. she smiled at his attempted imitation of her as they both started to get ready for the night.

——————///

a car picks both up, and thankfully both her and viktor are ready just in time for it do so. she fixes viktors tie in the car, admiring how the gold and blue in his suit compliments his eyes so well.

“you look so handsome.” whispered between the stillness that had settled into the back of the car. his hand reached up, cupping her cheek, his thumb trailing her lower lip.

“if i am handsome, then you are ethereal, miláček.” her responding smile was enough to convince him to kiss her. stopping outside the event plaza, both viktor and her exit the car, her helping viktor out, merely holding out a hand to ensure he was steady, which he reluctantly takes after side eyeing her. he never liked help, but she wasn’t taking the chance that he fall since the car parked so close to the sidewalk. then taking his left arm as you both slowly ascended inside. showing the invitations and then entering to the main ballroom, both looked around.

“i thought jayce would be here.” viktor said as he took two flutes of champagne off a tray passing by. handing one to her as she sipped it, humming.

“so did i…” her eyes squinting as she looked around, waiting for what felt like the other shoe to drop. it didn’t take long as mel medarda took the stage, introducing jayce. viktor looked and politely clapped, confusion evident on his face to his partner standing next to him. silence coming from her as she glared daggers straight at jayce. connecting the dots that this was an apology event. rolling her eyes, she downed the champagne and grabbed another one as they walked by. viktor glanced at her.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, as she sighed sipping her new flute.

“i’ll tell you later. we need to listen to the man of progress speak. i’m sure it’s important.” her smart ass getting the best of her as viktor side eyed her and then directed his eyes toward jayce.

jayce scanned the crowd, somewhat relaxing when he saw both his partners there.

“tonight, is a night of celebration, innovation and looking forward to progress!” he exclaimed, people cheering at that.

“we have been able to pave the way for faster travel, ease of trading leading to increased commerce opportunities for businesses in piltover all with the first hextech invention, the hexgates.” more cheers accompanied this as well as clapping. gripping onto viktors arm, she sighed.

“i have been honored to be referred to as the man of progress, but i do feel that it is not accurate.” there were now murmurs in the crowd at jayce’s words.

“as you see, there is not just one man of progress, there are two men of progress and one woman of progress.” gasps across the crowd flow. viktor looks at her and she up at him, confusion swimming in both your eyes.

“none of this would be possible with out my partners in hextech.” his hand reaching out as he read off both her and viktors names. claps and cheers coming from the crowd, slightly reserved as it was known in the inner circles who you both were. where you both came from. “we look forward to working harder than ever to bring you our next great invention, hextech travel. revolutionizing the way we can travel to different places, not just in piltover but in all of runeterra!” cheers erupt again. jayce waves and smiles as he gets off the stage and shakes a few hands, heading towards both his partners. both her and viktor look at him as he approaches you both, a bit sheepishly.

“mind if we talk outside?” jayce asks before either of them can speak, both she and viktor nodding and following him out.

“you were right.” his words directed at her.

“i mean, she normally is, but what is going on jayce?” viktor asks, as jayce sighs.

“we talked earlier today and i realized that i had been selfish. it is not just me working in hextech, it is both of you as well. you both should be credited with these inventions just as much as i am.” viktor frowned.

“i do not want to be in the spotlight.”

“you don’t have to be. i’ll keep making the speeches, talking to people, making deals from time to time. but from now on, people will know there are three founders of hextech.” jayce looked at both of his partners and she smiled up at him.

“you’ve not been selfish. i don’t think that’s the word. maybe, egotistical, inflated, big headed…” she trailed off a teasing smile on her face as viktor chuckled.

“thank you, jayce. i assume that you were the ones who got us these fancy outfits too?” viktor asked, after handing his cane to her to hold while fixing the lapel on jayce’s coat.

“had to make sure my partners matched with me.” jayce said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

the smile on her face threatened to split it. not happy for her own cause but ensuring viktor would forever be memorialized in connection with hextech.

“thank you, jayce.” she said, reaching up and kissing his cheek.

“thank you. i don’t know what i would do without you. without either of you.” jayce says looking at viktor as well.

—————————

“as jayce talis had stated, hextech was founded by three people, myself, jayce and viktor. erasing anyone from these works does a great disservice to their memory, legacy and the accuracy of our history.” she explained.

“‘a great disservice to their memory?’” one council member asks, disbelieving. “viktor, became a crazed man, creating himself into the machine herald and almost killed us all. people are scared. there must be something done!” this was met with a murmur of agreement.

“he almost killed us all!” another exclaims, upset and angry.

“you misunderstand me. i’m not asking for his flags to be flown around or even have a banner created of him for hextech. what i am saying is that on the schematics, the trademarks, the history of how the hexgates opened piltover, changed the trajectory of our city for good and created many new forms of technology infusing magic and science, that his name is not stricken from that. that his name is mentioned. he is explained. and at the end of the day our history explains why a child who had been part of chemical warfare between zaun and piltover, who came to piltover attempting to have a better life, eventually fell victim to the very disease he had contracted due to the chemicals piltover put in the air in zaun, but still tried to save others from his same fate.” the councils eyes widened. i turn to my left, seeing sevika present as the new council member for the undercity, recognizing her from a few run ins in the past when traveling down to the undercity for parts.

“this disease plagued zaun for years, is that not right?” you asked her.

“the gray? yeah. made people sick, making them dependent on shimmer, causing an endless loop of addiction. not to mention the limbs you can loose from it all too.” her gruff voice rang through the chamber.

council members looked at others across the table, next to them…

“i vote in favor of keeping all three names for the hextech founders accurate, for history, tradmarks and any correspondence. any marketing will just be focused on hextech itself. all those in favor?” sevika spoke, looking at her i slightly nod my head in thanks, my shoulders tight as i see across the table, one by one the council votes yes to the proposed idea, except three. majority rule though.

“you got what you want…. happy now?” a gruff voice of a new council member asked above all the chatter.

“very much so.” she said, ensuring everything was taken care i are of, before leaving.

—————————

the metal statues… if you could even call them that, are set up in a garden near the lab. making sure it had lilies, roses and poppy’s in there. three flowers and so much fauna, for the founders of hextech. at the center was jayce and viktor. she sat in the garden for hours on end, working on different things, talking to them or even just sleeping. finding that if she was sleeping and touching at least one of them, the nightmares weren’t so unbearable. she still wore the sleep deprived eye bags around like they were the new latest fashion.

after readjusting the plans for hextech, placing in safeguards and ensuring that the plans could be executed, she began to build a larger team. a team of great academy scientists, in engineering, biology, medicine…

with a collaborative foundation, the scientists with her at the helm drove forth 15 years of unprecedented and revolutionary progress. creating safe water ways for zaun and air with no pollution. creating hextech travel for all of runeterra. medical devices to help those needing mobility aides, in addition to cures to diseases that were listed as incurable.

she visited the garden the day they had found the cure to the disease the gray had created in the zaunite residents of the undercity.

“i’ve been working on hextech so much i’ve forgotten to visit. i’m sorry.” she whispers, setting down sunflowers for both men. “reminds me of you both.” her laugh is humorless and flat sounding.

“but i have some news. our team was able to do it. we found a cure for your disease viktor. those who are still afflicted with it will be able to be treated for it. they won’t have to suffer anymore.” she smiled and then looked up at viktors face, the machine heralds face. her hand reached up, caressing his cheek. “i’m just so sorry i couldn’t find it while you were alive. i wish i had. how our lives could have been different…”

“it’s so sad, because it’s been so long, vik.” she looked from his face and then back up to what his face was when he died. “it’s so hard to remember what you looked like. this wasn’t who you were. and you hated photos. thank god jayce sketched you. but it’s still not enough. and i fight so hard to make sure you are remembered.”

sitting down at his feet next to jayce, she sighed. “that both of you are.” she slumped over, looking at the ground. “i went to a wedding the other day. one of our scientists got married to their partners. one’s an architect, the other owns the bakery down the street. they remind me so much of us. it was so hard to be there, if i’m honest, because my mind wouldn’t quiet the ‘what ifs’.” the tears felt foreign to her as they slipped silently down her cheeks. she hadn’t cried since that day. the very day she-

“we would have worn house talis colors don’t worry. viktor would have looked dashing in them. gold always complimented your eyes so well vik. and the colors always seemed to just fit you jayce.” her hands fiddled with her own garment… crafted with house talis colors and zaunite colors, representing the partners who still laid claim to her life. she sighed again.

“i got back from the doctor the other day. my test results came back. i have three months to wrap everything up before the reaper catches up to me. ironic that it’s three months. the irony is not lost on me.” she chuckled humorously.

“i’ll be appointing leads for the research, people who can develop hextech since i’ll be six feet under. i think they can handle it though. they’ve made incredible strides.” she looked over at jayce, then up at viktor.

“i hope you’re both not so lost that i can’t find you or see you in the after life. i curse you both to be tied to me forever.” she jokingly laughed and got up, dusting off her pants.

“bye for now, my loves.”

—————————

fate was listening. it always is listening. will always listen.

—————————

“please… just take me to the garden.” she begged. looking up at the scientist who led the medical team and became a friend to her as she battled her illness. the hesitancy written on their face.

“damn it, i am dying. there’s no way around it. but at least let me be with them.” she whispers, their medical scientist’s eyes shine with understanding as they pick up her frail body and rush her to the garden. once there, they set her down gently at viktor’s feet.

“hi.” she whispers as her lungs seize. blood coating her hand as she just wipes it on her pant. the medical scientist tries to hand her water but she waves it away. “i think it’s time.” she holds viktors hand, a little cold but the same fingers she remembered nonetheless, and wrap her arm around jayce’s neck. “i hope i’ve made you proud. “ breathing heavy and labored. “i can’t wait to see you again.” her body relaxes more into her position, as she slumps over a bit, taking her final breath. her limbs turn to jello with her muscles relaxed and some how her arm stays around jayce and her hand in viktors, some how not falling, like they were holding her up.

____________. epilogue

the bright white of the fluorescent lights blinded her as she opened the shop up for the holidays. the darkness of 5 AM still cast the street in an eerie glow and made the shop light up like a honing beacon. she quickly turned on her holiday decorations and fairy lights. she blinked a few times and opened the front door so customers could start pouring in. filling the bakery case, then making herself a coffee she had already served 5 people. the day was a busy one, with so many customers blurring together and now thankfully almost ending.

“that’ll be $11.82.” she stated as her barista began making the order. closing the till she began helping the next customers, “welcome to hex and brew, what could we tempt you into?” she spews the greeting like she does every day. hearing two men talking doesn’t throw her off but it’s the accent of the one man. czech almost, soft but confident.

“you always get that damned gingerbread drink. why can’t you get something like crème brûlée?”

“well, because i like cinnamon and the sweet.” a sigh is heaved.

“we’ll get one gingerbread latte monstrosity and a black drip coffee. both large.” the voice now directed at her as she nodded.

“name for the order?” she asked, her throat dry for some reason and her body anxious, still writing the description of the drinks on the cups, not having looked up yet. writing off the feelings as her anxiety peaking during a rush.

“jayce is fine.” the other man responds and her hand freezes mid word, right in the middle of the words “black drip” on the second cup and finally looks up at them. her eyes meeting with the tallest-jayce- first. she shouldn’t have known who was who. she did though, as confusion, then shock and wonder settle. turning she looks at his partner.

his partner…

his partner……

her partner………

partners…

golden eyes meeting hers as the same emotions span across them as they did jayce’s. tears welling as his hands reached for hers, almost dropping everything he was holding. his hands were soft and warm, so unlike before. unlike the statue in her garden seemingly a lifetime ago. jayce’s hand reached up to cup her cheek. another lifetime of memories and love fill each of your thoughts.

“is it really you?” jayce asked

“miláček?” viktor questioned.

she breaks their connection, as their eyes widen and she quickly walks around the counter to them. “i couldn’t bare for anything else to separate us any longer.” she explained with a sad smile and a shrug, grabbing both their hands and pulling them into the back of the cafe where she had a cozy lounge break room for her and her team. “man the register?” she asked her friend behind the counter who nodded confused and started taking the next orders. once inside the break room, she shut the door, standing near it and not crossing over to the men on the other side. she closed her eyes as their presence agitated and reopened the gnarled wound that was in her chest from their absence. she always wondered why she felt this longing for someone, for people who were just like them. why none of the dates she went on never worked out. she had been waiting for them. the tears fell, ugly and fast. “of course it’s me…” her inhale is shuddering. “is it really you?” she asks, finally looking up at them, her eyes widening as both viktor and jayce’s faces are wet with tears. jayce makes the first move to her, he always made the first move, wrapping her in his abnormally large body. his warmth enveloping her, with the slight spiced scent that was just him. she cried harder.

“it’s me. it’s us. i promise.” jayce whispered. viktor came over, slithering his arm between jayce’s middle and hers. his other arm wrapping around her shoulder, pulling her against him too. clean musk fills the air as she turns a bit and takes her right arm wrapping it around viktors still small body.

“it’s us. it’s me. i-i am so sorry.” viktor whispers. she had never seen him cry before, but one time, in what felt like a lifetime ago talking about rio.

“viktor…” she trails off as his head is buried in her neck and they stay there, time holding no meaning to any of them. there would be a lot to talk about later, but for now, right now, they found each other again. that was enough.

this time, fate didn’t forget. this time, fate was forgiving. this time… fate favored the trio.

#jayce x viktor x reader #jayvik x reader #jayvik/reader #jayce x reader #jayce x you #viktor x reader #viktor x you #jayce talis #jayce x viktor #arcane jayce #viktor arcane #viktor oneshot #jayce oneshot #arcane imagine #arcane oneshot #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane imagines

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parfaitblogs · 7 months ago

Text

waiting room ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he breaks up with you, and your life slowly falls apart. so obviously you should see him?

pairing: ex!spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: implied alcohol reliance? lots of nothing happening not even a gun to my head could get me to write action... do not read if emotionally stable because i sure wasn't when i wrote this. word count: 1.9k a/n: i never write in second person so if there's a cheeky she her they them somewhere in this ignore it!!! i do not know what i am doing!!! probably not proofread enough. also no happy ending i hate those let the people cry i say! i haven't posted my writing in like three years be nice...

also posted here on my ao3 !

"Hey."

"Hi."

Awkward silence. Horribly awkward silence.

Your eyes darting around a bar that you found all too familiar, with decor that you could paint on a canvas with your eyes closed, and such a distinct smell that you could imagine it from miles away. You didn't think you'd ever forget the way the air moved in this bar, or the sound of the same three bands singing every Friday night on repeat. You knew all the words to their songs by now. And the bartender knew your name, embarrassingly so.

And even over the sound of patrons talking, and the clinking of glasses and every other overwhelming sound that drove you crazy, you felt like you could hear your heartbeat slamming against your chest. Your lips chapped, never wetting no matter how many times you produced the saliva in your otherwise dry mouth to lick them. Hands wrapped around an ice cold glass that did nothing but numb some part of your body, to accompany the numb feeling in your chest.

You looked better than you felt, but he was knocking both parts of you out of the park. Maybe that's why your mouth was so dry. You'd tell yourself that it is, at least. He's too attractive to talk to. But you could talk to him. You did talk to him. All the time. About everything, and nothing. Because that's what you two did.

And yet; the awkward silence.

He cleared his throat, and it prompted you to take a sip of your drink, mixed alcohol falling down your throat and leaving a burn that shouldn't comfort you, but did. You didn't pull a face at the taste of it the way you used to, and you found yourself wishing that part of you that you despised was back.

Maybe he would tease you for it again.

"How's work?"

The words felt foreign on your lips. It wasn't really what you wanted to ask him, but every inquiry you had died on your tongue before you could ask them, nothing feeling good enough.

"It's good," he answered, eyes studying you in a way that made you want to shrink into nothingness.

"That's good," you said, and you saw the small twitch of his lips — brief, before they fell back into their natural downturned shape.

It was almost comical how much silence sat between you two. Two people who would talk until people around them were groaning and regretting asking them a question, falling silent in the presence of one another.

He cleared his throat again. Maybe you should offer him some water, but then you realised this wasn't your house and he was fully capable of getting his own water. And everything else in the world.

"How's work for you?"

"It's good," you answered, half-heartedly, because you really didn't know. You hadn't been in months.

You didn't really realise a breakup would affect you this much. You had always been good. Good at putting emotional turmoil on pause for your busy life. You never considered the possibility of putting your busy life on pause for emotional turmoil.

But then Spencer Reid left you. You never considered the possibility of that happening either, until it did.

"Is it?" he asked, and you watched his body shift slightly in his seat, almost leaning closer to you.

And unfortunately, you can only pretend in front of the man across from you for so long. "No," you said.

"Why not?"

"I'm not going." Your voice was embarrassingly quiet, but you knew he heard you, because his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, and his lips parted for a second. It made you want to take the words back; to lie again. "I got laid off a week ago."

He slowly nodded his head in recognition — that would explain your sudden request to meet. "I'm sorry."

You could imagine a million things you knew he'd be saying the words for, but not one part of you really believed it for any of them. So you only nodded your head, gaze dropping from him to the glass in front of you, the paper straw disintegrating in the liquid — something you weren't used to; you would finish drinks too quickly for that to happen.

You didn't come here to mope. You do that every other Friday night. You didn't need to do that tonight, when the man you were spending your nights sobbing and your mornings numb over was right there with you.

"How's your mom?" you ask instead, lifting your head back up, and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"She's okay. Same as usual," he said, and you nodded your head. Short answers seemed to be the only thing you guys knew how to do. "How's yours?"

"Good," you answer, because the question doesn't really have the same weight as it did when you asked him; he only did it to be courteous. "She misses having you over."

That brought a small smile to his face. "I miss being over."

You can come back, you want to say, but you know that isn't true.

You don't know how much longer you two sit in silence before he breaks it with a sigh that, if you didn't know better, you'd think was irritated. But it wasn't; simply exhausted.

"Why did you want to meet me?" he finally asked, and your lips parted, before shutting again, because you're not too sure the answer is something you're allowed to say aloud.

You say it anyway.

"I missed you."

You watched his facial features soften, his shoulders relaxing slightly, and that only seemed to bring more nervous energy to you.

"You shouldn't," he said, and if your heart had anything left for him, it probably would have cracked again.

You knew that you shouldn't. You had told yourself to get over it a thousand times before. Your go-to mantra was grow up. But you couldn't. Your brain wouldn't let it go and your eyes could just never stay dry for long enough to think it's finally over. It was almost pathetic.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding your head, slowly, and you were pretty sure tears were welling in your eyes, which felt even more pathetic in front of him.

"I'm sorry."

This time it was you to apologise, and you knew he didn't believe your apology either. Not when you didn't even know what you were apologising for. Missing him, meeting him here, ever even dating him in the first place.

"It's okay," he said, instead, and you watched him exhale shakily, his lips rubbing against each other — usually a telltale sign he didn't want to be wherever he was any longer. That broke your heart too.

Words died in your throat as you abruptly stood up, the stool you were perched atop wobbling slightly with your sudden movements.

You stared at him for another moment, committing his face to memory, before you nodded your head to him in acknowledgement, pocketing your phone. You forced a smile, and left.

Maybe not the best move you've ever done in your life. Not the move you wanted to do. But certainly the smartest.

Because the second the cool, early fall air hit your skin, so did your tears, and you found that even ordering an Uber was difficult through blurry vision. So you decided to walk. Walk where, you didn't know. Away from the bar. Through the people-filled square; people as drunk as you wished to be, people out with friends and partner's, to have fun. People having a much better night than you, clearly.

You heard your name. And something in you screamed to not turn around, to not give in to the caller. Probably the logical part of your brain. But your heart ignored it, and you halted in your tracks, turning to see him walking towards you, eyebrows furrowed in so much concern you think you'd crack further than you already have. Maybe if you split yourself down the middle it would finally stop hurting.

"I miss you too."

Four simple words that could be heard even over the mixed songs playing from the clubs around you, even over the beeping cars and the chattering people.

"Please don't lie to make me feel better," you croak, and you're acutely aware of the tears on your cheeks.

"I'm not lying," he breathed out, and you were far enough away from his body to see his hand twitch. For whatever reason you didn't know. "Sweetheart, you're breaking my heart, here."

Oh.

You swallowed down a sob, swiping another set of falling tears before they could get too far down your cheeks.

"Spencer, please," you said, so desperately that you wanted to shoot yourself. "I shouldn't have asked you to meet."

"No, you shouldn't have," he agreed, and your heart stuttered in your chest, because he was telling you things you shouldn't do. Again. "Not that I—" he cut himself off with a sigh; frustrated, this time. "Not that I didn't want to see you, because I did. You're the only person I want to see recently. But I was getting better, and I know I've ruined all that by being here with you tonight."

I was getting better. The words echoed over and over in your brain. If he was just as bad as you were, maybe it would make this easier. Maybe you aren't as pathetic.

"I hate this," you settled on, fidgeting awkwardly with your fingers.

He didn't respond for a few too many moments, and it had you wanting to take back your words. He rubbed his eyes with another sigh.

"I'm not going back on my decision," he said, and you didn't need to ask what decision; you had an idea, and your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

But you did anyways. "Which decision?"

"Breaking up with you."

You were silent for a few moments too. "I'm not asking you to—"

"—No, but you want me to," he cuts you off. "And I'm telling you I won't. You know why I did it. That trumps whatever feelings I have for you."

Have.

"I don't know why," you said, shakily. You did. He gave you a reason, and if you had to explain the breakup to someone, you could tell them why. But the ongoing conflict in your brain confused you anyways.

"Yes you do," he answered, his jaw tensing. When you shook your head, and went to respond, he cut you off, stepping closer. "I can afford to lose you. I can't afford for the world to."

He had said something similar the day he left. Something about a fear of you dying. Something you had tried to reassure him of, failing to do so clearly.

"What about me?" your voice cracked and you cursed it.

"It will get better."

You could've cried all over again, in the middle of the square. Everything always for the better. Never for the right now, for the things you both wanted. But for the everlasting fear Spencer had in his brain, that you didn't know how to help.

"Apparently," you replied, sniffling as you took a step away from him. "I think I should go."

If he wanted to protest, he didn't show it. He simply nodded his head, lips parting in a silent exhale.

And so you did, with wet cheeks, and a quiet, "Goodbye, Spencer."

loml (part 2) ♡

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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