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tuliptic · 2 days ago

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Start Line: Growing and Transforming

We've been running this far, non-stop, all day yeah Never getting tired, we keep up this runner's high You know graduation Even though it's over, it's not the end Put on some new shoes Yeah we're ready at the start line

Things have been difficult for a lot of us, and sometimes, we just want a flicker of hope, or some words of encouragement that can push us to go further. Just… Something, a message, to tell us that the pain we’re going through right now is temporary, and things will be better.

Close your eyes, meditate on this topic and tell yourself that you’re on a brand new start line, and ask for the messages you’re called to hear. Breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. Also, I do not consent to my work or images being used by third parties on this platform or other websites as well.

Decks used: Crossing Star Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck, self-made lyrics deck.

Pile 1

One card to represent you: The Magician rx

The first thought that popped into my mind is that… You’ve probably been told (many times) that you’re a good manifestor, but you have not seen it working out for you, or at least, not at the moment. You’ll need to try an error (or maybe errors) to find what works for you, and what works best for you. It can be rather disheartening to fail, but look for the opportunities in life’s challenges and learn the lessons. You work better by letting your physical body learn rather than your brain to absorb the knowledge. You probably have also noticed your tendency to self-sabotage, but you don’t intend to do anything about it. Perhaps, not at the moment, as you’re not in a right place yet to fix yourself, but you need to remember it and to work on it.

1. Why have things happened? - Four of Cups

You have been too focused on what you’re feeling and not looking at the outer world, on whatever that’s happening around you or to you. This definitely has something to do with The Magician rx above, where you’re sabotaging yourself and not focusing on the present. It’s giving me very… Neptune rx in Pisces vibes, so some of you who picked this pile may have Pisces placements. It’s like living in the world yet not living at the same time, where you’re floating and drifting, not seeing where you’re at or where you’re going. Life has been throwing you opportunities to learn the lessons, but you’re not learning it. Not to mention that you’re not organising what it is that you’re feeling inside and to do something about it. With all of that happening, some of you may feel you’re at a standstill or some will have their head and heart wrapped up in different bags and not know how to unify them.

2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Knight of Pentacles rx

You have to stop dilly-dallying, and pick up the pace if you want to move away from where you’re standing. Sure, ADHD paralysis is difficult to deal with when you’re frozen (I’m referring to myself as well, in case y’all think I’m attacking anyone), but it is already something if you can move yourself away from the way of harm first. My first thought here is to train your body to be able to move on autopilot from time to time, which will help you in countless ways. Sure, you’re still sluggish and unenthusiastic, but let your body move first, exercise, and let your brain rest during those times. Another way you can attempt to stop those thoughts is to get help. Not only external help from professionals, but more of building healthy interpersonal relationships. True friends will want to help you to be better, and will be willing to spend some time to accompany you to carry out activities that are beneficial for both of you.

3. What to look forward to? - The Magician rx

You’ll be able to tap into your energy. I do think that this is a time for you to work together with your manifestation talent/skill, and for you to decide which direction you want to head. You need to remember that the direction you’re going is not something fixed, so no worries in making a decision. You can change that anytime, or go on a different journey if it doesn’t fit you. The more important thing is to have a welcoming heart, to dream and invite limitless magic into your life, allow your guides to show in unexpected ways. Do not be afraid, go step by step and find out what works for you. Of course, you can look forward to this if you take action. If you’re not doing anything, do not hope or wish for things to fall directly into your laps.

4. What have you left behind and grown from? - The Tower

You’ve gone through a huge upheaval, you’ve gone through a lot of chaos and traumas in the past. Now, you’re going through another fundamental shift. It may not be as tremendous and messy as it was in the past, but this shift is something more of an energy thing, where you need to learn to be more selective with where and who you want to spend your energy on. This energy encompasses mental, spiritual and physical energy, and you have to remember that you’re also an exhaustible being, where you can’t focus on others forever. Look back, and you’ll see how far you’ve gone from that unhappy place. Remind yourself that you’re able to do it again. Once you’ve grown from it, you’ll also be more free to explore your skills and abilities. You’ve always had a tendency to have a foot in almost everything, and with you now knowing how to distribute your energy and time? You definitely can. You can try focusing on what’s in front of you instead of attempting to explore far, you might find treasures closer to you instead.

5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - The Chariot

The Chariot talks about action and goal. I don’t think I need to say much on this, as it’s pretty self explanatory. However, remember to hold onto your reins as you move towards wherever it is you’re heading. You need to have a clear goal and a destination, else you’ll run out of energy/fuel, and you may end up in different places. You’ll need a clear and visible goal, and the stages need to be well defined and measurable. You get strength from seeing actual results, and that’s when you gain the confidence to continue moving forward. You will get justice when you’re moving forward. The justice here is internal, as it is more towards countering the self-sabotaging part of you. It’s difficult, but once you wipe the tears and bite on the happiness you’re seeing, you’ll know your purpose in life, and you’ll taste that justice.

6. Advice for you - Five of Pentacles, Nine of Cups rx, Ace of Cups rx

Some of you may be facing financial difficulties or even health problems. It’s best if you work on them now as you prepare for what it is to come. It can be quite disheartening at times when you question and wonder why hard times fall on you more often than others. This may also result in an unhealthy stream of emotions. Emotions itself isn’t a bad thing, the problem would be how you’re managing it. Don’t hold them in and stack them up. Find a safe place to release them, understand those emotions and nurture yourself back. Place your trust in the Universe, believe that whatever that is happening to you right now is part of a greater plan. Twist your thoughts a little, see it as a blessing where you’re finding problems when it’s still salvageable (it’s still painful but hey, we can work on it eventually). Tune into your heart, listen to your wishes, and look at what you have achieved throughout the years. Your wishes of the past are now fulfilled, and you’ve finally built the life you’ve wanted when you were much younger. Well, it may exist in different forms, or you’ve gotten it not according to how you originally planned, but it’s there. Know that you can change your wishes into reality because you have the power. Believe in yourself. Let’s say if you want to recover faster, you can manifest quicker healing. You can. Just make sure that you do not fall into the habit of feeling dejected and dissatisfied quickly. Hold on to a heart of gratitude. It will open up doors for you.

Overall energy: The Tower rx, Six of Pentacles

There’s a mix of energy here. You’re unsatisfied that things have gone out of your control, yet there’s also a sense of relief that you are not responsible over those things going out of control. Despite the difficult times, you still hold generosity in your heart, where you offer what you have (materials, energy, time) to those who need them. In turn, you’ll also be blessed with what you need. Accept help given to you with an open heart and a grateful attitude. The greater plan the Universe has in mind for you may have something to do with people and connection, so that may be an aspect you want to pay attention to. Things or memories from the past can be resurfacing, so stop hiding or running away, and face them.

Pile 2

One card to represent you: Death

First thing I’m picking up here is that you’re going through a lot of changes right now, and the next thing is that… You’re being watched over. There's a lot, and I mean A WHOLE LOT of things that are going on right now, and they’re overflowing your plate. I could sense a certain level of panic and dread over everything, but there’s also some form of apathy where you’re tired of everything and anything happening all at once. There’s too much that’s going on to the point you have no idea where or what to focus on, so you’re probably at a standstill where you’re looking at the overflowing plate, doing nothing. I’d say that this is a “freeze” response because you’re at a point where you can’t process anything at the moment, but once your brain starts spinning again, you’ll get things done. You have people watching over you, or your guides are protecting you at this time. Imagine you’re standing still in the middle of the path but no one is hitting you. It’s like that. Your guides are making sure that you have enough time to process whatever that’s happening to you and around you. Once you start moving, they’ll follow behind you and help you out when you ask them, especially when you’re facing any confrontation.

1. Why have things happened? - The Hermit rx

You’ve withdrawn yourself from certain aspects of life (friendship, or work, or a certain class, or even a hobby) with attempts of healing yourself and to give yourself more time. Sure, you’ve got the time, but those times were not spent on yourself, those free times were not helping you, but the other people in your life. In another sense, you were still busy, and you did not get the rest you needed. There’s a certain level of emptiness that I’m feeling here, and that you’re torn as well, not sure if you want to fill that emptiness or you want to remain it as so because of the comfort of being used to it. Do you trust yourself, with the steps and decisions you’ve been making? BET ON ME by ITZY was playing as I typed this out, and I do feel that there’s a message in this song for you.

2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - King of Pentacles rx

King of Pentacles is generally the last card of the deck, and what I'm seeing here is that you still have a lot more to go, that things are not final yet, and you have the ability (King) to change things to your favour. I understand that you're currently in a flight or freeze mindset, but you need to work your brain to trick it a little so that it moves, and you can reprogram it a little so that you can move away from the spot you froze. Be kind to yourself and let go of those thoughts that are haunting you, step away from those self-criticism, know that you deserve gentleness. The King is abundant in finances, life experience, but I'd also like to add connections into this list. To be a King, you must have known to pull strings around to make things work, to make sure you win the trust of the people. To achieve that, you need good and skillful people who are willing to listen to your plans and to make them work. Those connections are what will help you throughout your difficult times. Sure, people may have turned you down in the past, but know that they may not be in any position to extend any help back then, and that things may be different now. They will be more capable now. Some… May have a really painful tongue, not filtering their words. But still, they will help, and you'll be surprised with what they're able to offer.

3. What to look forward to? - Ten of Cups rx

This… probably is not gonna sound ideal to a lot of people but… You can look forward to having a fresh start. It's like the cups you have are now poured clean, and you are forced to redo things again, to fill them up again but this time, you get to choose what you fill them up with. Previously, when you were growing up, people around you filled those cups for you, helping you make decisions (that you may not like or agree with), or even tainting them (putting droplets of other things in it), and those form you to who you are today. But, by pouring them clean (a very, very painful process), you are now able to pour and fill your cups with whatever you want and whatever you need. You'll be able to work with your dreams and spirit's energy to reach your highest good as you fiercely protect your cups, your energy, your life. Your life is now yours to write.

4. What have you left behind and grown from? - Three of Wands

It feels like you have left behind a lot of original plans that you have made for yourself in the past as you build yourself anew. There's a lot of internal cleansing done, and you've decided to start everything from scratch again. You'll be able to build things again and fully immerse yourself in a new future you'll create. You've learnt to grow from pain and to see the smaller happiness in life, learning to accept that growth is inevitable. Visualisation is also vital here, where you will need to immerse yourself in whatever you have now as you visualise where you will be standing in the future. You decide your own path, and you have to walk it.

5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - Ten of Swords rx

Things will start getting better once you pull out all the swords from your back. There's a lot of… Purging. Yeah, purging is a more suitable word to use for your situation. Your situation is like the shelf full of ceramic plates that will crash the moment you open that door. But you still need to open it, you'll need to let all of those fall, and you can clean it, to make space for new items to put in. You now can choose metal plates, or plastic plates to put in, whatever it is that you want. But first, you need to clean the space, only then you'll invite limitless magic into your life and allow your spirit guides to show up in unexpected ways. They are there for you, through a breeze, through a flyer, through a sudden noise to stop you from crossing the road. Once you've made space, that's when you'll get your justice by living your best self.

6. Advice for you - King of Wands rx, Strength rx, Six of Swords rx

There's another King card here, telling me that whatever you're going through right now is not an easy one. It probably will be there a little longer and it is what will help you to build up your upcoming new life, to start everything again. You will need to be at peace with yourself and be kind to yourself first. Turn your strength and focus inwards, nurture yourself, and do not shy from cutting people out of your life if they drain you too much, even if they are family. You need to understand that you are your own universe, and you are your own priority. If you do not prioritise yourself, no one will. Others do not have that responsibility over you, so let yourself breathe. For now, heal your wounds, use it as your badge of honour, and live your life as how you see fit. Remember, it is you who define who you are, not your past.

Overall energy: Strength, Nine of Wands

There's a lot of strength in you, actually, just that you have not known how to work with it right now, not sure how to turn that strength for yourself. You have been resilient in everything you do, no matter how battered up you are, so let those tension fall from you. Sit down in peace and quiet as you receive the messages from your guides, letting them guide you through this time of difficulty. Trust your feelings, they know you better than yourself. Listen to your emotions, they understand your needs better. Act on them when needed, you will know when the timing is right.

Pile 3

One Two cards to represent you: The Tower rx, The Chariot rx

I'm… Not exactly that surprised to see two cards falling out. The Tree in this image symbolises the Tree of Life as I was doing the reading, so some of you who picked this pile may be told that you guys are knowledgeable or do possess some extensive knowledge in very specific fields. And with this knowledge comes expectations, which can be seen with two cards falling out for you. With these two cards, what I'm immediately picking on is that… You are in a phase of life that can be quite challenging right now, where things that are beyond your control are happening almost all at once, and you're losing your balance as you continue to run on the uneven paths. You're growing exhausted as you're being chased with expectations and by your own sense of duty. So, please take a break when you need it.

1. Why have things happened? - Three of Pentacles rx

There have been conflicts going on with you and your social circles, may it be disagreements between classmates/colleagues, or getting shunned by them for not going along with them. There’s a slight hint of one being an outcast here. Correlating to the cards representing you, how you became an outcast is also due to what you're going through life right now, requiring you to put a hold onto a lot of other things, including assignments and/or socialisation, etc. Your intuition has been your assistant throughout these times of perils, and it's giving me that you do know how and why you're in a situation that's making you stagnant. Not sure if you are capable of breaking that ice or you're resting at the moment before you take the first step out. Either way, unlike most people, you know where you’re standing at right now, and you do know how to make changes towards a new you if needed.

2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Three of Swords

This is probably a weird way to put it, but you need to use your pain as a tool to help you get back to the present. You may be able to perceive pain differently, like… It's to prove that you're still living, that you're still alive, and you still can make changes to the situation you're in. You need to remind yourself that you're beloved, and that the Universe loves you and is throwing hints at you through very… questionable ways. Trust your inner wisdom and intuition, let them guide you to where you're supposed to be. Oddly, I'd say that you have been through something similar before, but you kinda panicked when your previous methods no longer work for this situation. This is the time where you need to find a new method that will help you develop your senses, and for you to be at peace with yourself again. Coping mechanisms, but let it help you with more than just coping.

3. What to look forward to?- The Chariot rx

I'd say that things will slow down, not because the problems are resolved, but because the tires have worn out. Your nightmare and problems have also run out of strength to go after you, which gives you a quick chance to take a small break before you retreat to somewhere safer, where you build a new coping mechanism and possibly plans for the upcoming problems. I'd also say that this is a good time for you to make new connections that will be helpful in the long run. Don't worry about burdening others, as I believe that there will be a chance for you to help them back. Friendships and connections are mutual, where both parties benefit from them. Not sure if you’re the type who’d welcome new changes. Nevertheless, challenges will be coming your way for you to level up. I’d say that these challenges are coming in a way where you’re capable of managing it. From there, you’ll experience a new sort of rebirth, and you’ll find a new identity that works with you better.

4. What have you left behind and grown from? - King of Pentacles

I have no idea why but I'm sensing some… Familial relationships and expected duties? Most of you may be working with establishing healthy boundaries with your family, making sure that the roles are properly and fairly distributed. It also feels like… Financial responsibilities aren't yours alone, and the entire family will need to figure out how to contribute and prepare for any emergencies. You’re now the King, where you have a comfortable relationship with your finances, knowing that it’s yours, your property, and you have every right to access it and to use it without guilt. There may be a chance where your family or extended relatives have guilt-tripped you to sacrifice or contribute to their needs, and you’re unapologetically free from those now. You now learn to trust your intuition more and let your inner wisdom guide you through your way subconsciously. It’s now a part of your life where you don’t really need to sit and listen, as you’re driving on auto-pilot by your subconsciousness.

5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - The Sun rx

I'd say that things will start getting better at unexpected times, or even at times when you can't see hope. The Sun is unable to shine on all people, it's unable to pierce through thick walls, but it doesn't mean it's not there. The Sun here feels mellow, like it's keeping its warmth and heat in check to not burn the other living beings that it's feeding. There’s also another message here that is assuring you that good things take time, and that you’ll need to be kind to yourself so that those blessings arrive and you’re ready to receive them wholeheartedly. The entire thing is a journey, and the roads can be bumpy. But still, what matters is the journey and you’re able to reach your final goal in a good condition, so take your time as you tread through those paths. Once you start walking and taking action, luck will fall by your side and accompany you through this journey.

6. Advice for you - Nine of Pentacles rx, Knight of Wands, Knight of Cups

You may be using your time unwisely by focusing on things that do not exactly benefit you. I’m not saying that you can’t, but you need to set your priorities straight and know what is the final goal of your actions. You may start a project that requires you to invest and purchase tools, when you’re rushing a deadline that’s gonna affect your assignment and final’s results. By doing this, you’re in a way, not planning well. Sure, you get your emotional fulfilment, but it also comes at the price of you failing your semester (touchwood). Passion projects can be fun, but you need to plan your time well, plan your resources well, plan your enthusiasm as well. The planning happens behind closed doors. Others will see how well you portray yourself and be drawn to you, but you need to remember the need for continuous effort for you to achieve the best results. The public, or people around you may gather around you because of how well you have a grip over yourself, and once things have calmed down, feel free to let yourself loose a little. People will show up around you, and it’s totally fine for you to enjoy the attention and affection. You just need to remember how much you’ve put in to build yourself, and not let others take you for granted, or to take advantage of your skills or what you have to offer.

Overall energy: Strength, Four of Wands rx

Strength and beauty comes in all forms possible, even through pain and tears. This is something that you’ll be learning to accept through this difficult time. Most of us may understand the beauty and appeal of pain, but not many can accept it. Whatever we’re going through right now makes us learn and accept it, to come to terms with it. Of course, changes come along with it and we will need to learn to adapt to it, to build a “New You” as you face the upcoming challenges. Know that whatever you’re doing right now is a pre-requirement for you to achieve your dreams. You are your own world, and you can change the world as you grace the strong wind standing your way.

Pile 4

One card to represent you: The Devil

What I’m feeling here is that you tend to have a certain level of control over some things in your life. The control here isn’t exactly pleasant, where it may be imbalanced and there can be some arguments going on. Temptations are heard as well. You know you’re stuck in some loop where you can’t escape, and you have no intention of escaping. The picture for this pile is somehow giving me Sex and The City vibes, where the neon lights (benefits, financial resources, interests) have been the focus of your sight, and this allows you to have a different perspective, or for you to see things differently from your peers.

1. Why have things happened? - Strength rx

You have lost strength, internal strength mainly. You were not surrounded by those who supported you, and your energy was depleted bit by bit as you tried to fit in. You have put yourself in a position where you depend on the actions and feelings of others, and you may have given up on your instinctive responses, not having the self-discipline and control you need. The Lion is your passion, and it’s now your enemy, threatening to destroy whatever stability and name you’ve built. Imagine a woman trying to tame the agitated lion and the two ended up in a fight, while the spectators (wrong group of friends) by the side just watched.

2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Knight of Swords

You’ll need to start taking care of yourself, listen to yourself. You’re a person who prides your intelligence, and you tend to be in your own head a lot. However, you’ve listened to the noises out there that have affected you in a negative way. Not to say that you’re supposed to go back into the state of being in your own headspace, but for you to pay attention to yourself more, to listen to the voices of your heart instead of the external noises. You’ve always been head>heart, and now you’ll need to go head<heart. You may not like how different this… new routine is, but you will also know that it has to be done, as you’ve been seeing messages of this “new path” around. Balancing out the heart voices and head nagging is important, and this is how you shall start. You also need to remember you yourself, are the source of everything essentially you. You build yourself; you create yourself. You are not built on the words or acceptance of others. You need to remind yourself that you are already doing well, and the expectations of others are not yours to bear.

3. What to look forward to? - Ace of Wands

New beginnings come with changes. Once you’ve chosen a different voice to listen to, you’ll be able to regain energy, bit by bit, to attempt more changes in your life. Opportunities will surely come your way when you accept the positive energy around you, and it’s up to you to seize them and make them work. It’s a time for you to follow your instincts and have courage. Take action when you need them. That aside, it’s suggested that you return to your roots as you venture through this bright explosion of good energy. Remember the importance of grounding yourself and go back to the basics from time to time. It’s not only to cleanse your heart, but also serves as a reminder of where you came from, and how you need to be in touch with your past and nature.

4. What have you left behind and grown from? - Six of Wands

What I’m seeing here is that you’ve put down the yearn and drive for fame and luxuries, and have redefined success for yourself. You’ve awakened from the past and start to feel more energised, learning to start your days in a better mood as you count your victories. More people are recognizing your achievements as they approach you with interest. As you compare what you had and what you’re having now (or will be having in the future), you’ll be able to evaluate better and have a clearer idea of the direction you want to take next. You are warned of self-doubt and lack of confidence. You have to believe in your abilities and worth so people can trust you, so that you can trust and confide in yourself.

5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - Eight of Wands

Eight of Wands is a card that talks about movements. Once you’re moving, once you’re taking action, that’s when you’ll see things turning out different for you. You’ll start to receive things or messages that you’ve been waiting for, and it’s time for you to stop stalling. If you’re interested in someone, you will have to walk towards them and work for it. You’ll be able to attract a loving, happy, fulfilling relationship into your life as you’re no longer the old you. Remember, birds of the same kind flock together, and the same goes with people too. You attract people of your level. You want that person who’s active and charming? Be proactive in approaching them. Your justice will come in unexpected forms, but most of it would be releasing of past hurt. There will be times where you’ll want to hug yourself to sleep as you were reminded of how things have been difficult. This is one of the healing phases where you slowly let things go. The lighter you are, the better you become. This is also because the karma of those who’ve wronged you will not be tied to you anymore.

6. Advice for you - The Star, King of Cups rx, Nine of Cups

Rebuild yourself. This probably sounds difficult and too… idealised? But this is what you need to do. The Star is there to tell you that there’s a silver lining behind every grey cloud, that you’re not broken beyond repair, and that you’re able to work yourself up to another peak. This card is an extremely gentle card, so take that message and be gentle to yourself as well. You’ll need to practise self-compassion, listen to your inner feelings, cultivate yourself and let yourself grow into your very best self. Love others by first loving yourself, don’t forget about the promises you’ve made to yourself. Make new and healthy connections as you flourish. If you wish for them, they’ll come into your life. Learn to be content with the gifts you’re having everyday, learn to hold gratitude with what the Earth is offering you. With the amount of Cups here, try getting close to bodies of water (beach, sea, waterfall, etc). Water may be a healing element for you. Alternatively, try doing activities that are related to creativity (crafting, writing, drawing, or something that’s symbolistic) as they can be an outlet of your heart’s wants, which you can understand better from the results of your craft. Remember to stay hydrated too.

Overall energy: Justice, Eight of Swords

Justice is really your theme right now. You’ve been choosing to run away from the obvious, but it’s high time that you wake up, pull down the blinds that have been covering your eyes and to see the truth for who he is. The first action needed for every awakening is to open your eyes and acknowledge whatever that has been going wrong. Only then you’re able to take action towards a better situation. You’ll need to open up your heart and invite new changes in, welcome new beginnings in. The theme of Justice can be difficult and painful, but it’s necessary for you as you transform bit by bit, cutting down the vines that have been tying you down, severing unhealthy ties that have been binding you down (refer to The Devil). Get back your own autonomy, treat yourself right, let justice be served on who deserves them.

#tuliptic #🌷#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #general tarot reading #self related reading #i finally completed this #this took so much time and energy and guess what i've been lacking these days?#time and energy!#work is finally less hectic and i now have time to do this too #special thanks to andy my bro for suggesting this topic #i had a hard time picking a topic to work with so yeah #this helps!#and it also serves as a self reminder #hopefully you guys find this helpful #cheers #(off i go to sleep at almost 12am)

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the-lonelybarricade · 2 days ago

Text

Queen of Thieves - Chapter 8

Summary: A fulfillment of this kinkmeme prompt. Or; A Canon AU where half fae, con-artist Feyre makes an ill placed bet.

Happy birthday to our darling Rhys!! I got him everything he wanted 😏

CW: Smut, Mild dubcon/CNC elements, mind control, and other dubious, wicked things

Read on AO3・QoT Masterlist ・Previous Chapter

Feyre was eleven years old the first time she was desperate enough to steal.

Like any ordinary child, she'd been taught that stealing under any circumstance was wrong. Her father was a merchant, which meant that thieves posed a direct threat to his livelihood, particularly when piracy was so common along the trade routes to the continent.

He'd built his legacy, the Prince of Merchants, on his willingness to sail those trade routes, navigating pirate-ridden seas because the higher risk equated to higher reward.

But a name wasn't won through gambling alone. Any merchant with a rookie crew could luck their way to the continent and back. What made him the best—the Prince—was his expertise in the art of bargaining. He was renowned for having deals so detailed, so craftily constructed, they needed to be written and signed in advance of each journey.

Feyre had been present for a few of those meetings, watching as ink bled from paper to skin. Sometimes, she'd even been present for the aftermath, listening to crewmen grumble about underhanded terms.

I am a man of my word, Father once said, rolling a contract over his desk and stabbing a finger to its contents. And my word was stated plainly. Do not impute your failure to read the terms on my good name. I am no liar, and I am certainly no thief.

He always used that word like it was filthy.

Feyre once mirrored that belief.

As a child, she would delight in sitting atop storage crates on the docks, monitoring the gangways as her father's crew unloaded cargo from his ship. If there were any wayward thieves, she was determined to catch them.

After all, Father didn't trust the folk along the docks. He barely trusted his own crew.

They don't have any passion for the exploration or the trade, he once grumbled. All they want is a bed and a meal.

Feyre remembered being shocked to hear that some people didn't have those things. Until that point, she'd always relied on having her basic needs met, and then some.

What's so bad about that?

When all a person cares about is surviving, it means they're willing to blur lines. They'll cheat, lie, and steal if it helps them get ahead.

Father shook his head like those three things were truly abominable. Little did he know that one day, Feyre would become a master of all three.

But she started with mastering one.

Two years after her father's vessel sank on the route to Bharat, Feyre's mother had fallen ill. Humans had weak constitutions, and grief could take a heavy toll. So could debt—of which, they'd learned the famed Prince of Merchants had many.

So Mother sold the house, then the jewels, then, eventually, her own body.

It was barely enough.

By the time she was too ill to work, there was nothing left to get by. No silver candlesticks or golden rings they could pawn at the market for medicine.

When Feyre wandered into the apothecary's shop, her intentions had been pure. If she knew the price of the medicine, then perhaps she and her sisters could find a way to scratch together the amount needed. They could scrub floors, or pull weeds in someone's garden, or maybe Elain could use her big brown eyes to draw sympathy begging in the streets.

The shop was lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves on every wall, filled to the brim with glass vials of varying colors and consistencies. Each sported a white label Feyre couldn't discern, though she was happy to pick out the colors that she found most interesting: a flask of swirling violet flecked with silver granules, another of bright, bubbling pink, and one which she swore housed a slithering creature.

"Can I help you?" The apothecary asked.

She sounded concerned, which any adult rightly would be at the sight of Feyre's tattered clothes.

It sparked hope that Feyre could appeal to the elderly female's empathy. That was all she'd been trying to do when she stared into the apothecary's eyes. Please help me, she thought. I know you want to help me.

The female's concern was so potent that Feyre could feel it, a rope tethering two strangers, built on kindness, on compassion. Her mind was as wide open as her heart.

Feyre didn't know she was digging into it until she felt something give. Like fingers clawing into wet sand.

I need a cure for a human fever, Feyre said.

She thought she said it out loud. She must have, because the apothecary started moving toward the shelf on the back wall.

Acting troupes occasionally put on puppet shows in the market squares near The Rainbow. Feyre felt like she was watching one of those shows as the female jerked open a drawer, her movements erratic. Unnatural. Like she was being controlled by an inexperienced puppeteer.

But the oddity was forgotten the second the woman produced a vial of shimmering liquid and handed it to Feyre without a word of the price. Her eyes were unnervingly vacant as Feyre took the vial, thanked the apothecary, and fled back to her mother.

She didn't realize until years later what happened; she didn't realize that was the moment she'd become a thief.

Daemati magic came in many different forms.

Suspended in the space between the High Lord of the Night Court's foyer and study, it took the shape of madness and indulgence.

Over the years, Feyre had progressed from accidentally breaking into people's minds into doing so with intention. It was a gradual process, one she likened to painting. A child used their fingers, but an artist used a brush.

And she was learning her mental bowstring was as rudimentary as finger painting to Rhysand.

Last time, he'd shown her brutal talons that allowed him to play ventriloquist, and she'd thought that was the extent of it. Pure, unyielding power.

But of course, it could be soft, too. Gentle, like a feather's touch ghosting over her mind. Almost… ticklish. Playful.

Like the fingers landing on her bare stomach. He splayed them out carefully, the way one might handle ruptured glass. They might have both been holding their breath as the challenge became real.

Their eyes met, waiting for the other to fracture. This was a ridiculous, dangerous game; they both knew it.

He was lowering himself to his knees before her, for Cauldron's sake. The most powerful male in Prythian bowing like a supplicant. It all seemed so backward to her.

But those strong, capable hands spread wider, undeterred by the constraints of social hierarchy. What did a High Lord care, when he could simply rewrite the rules with his fingertips? He stretched them until his palms landed flat, scalding her on either side of her abdomen. She tried not to focus on how long his fingers were, spanning over the curve of her waist while the tips of his forefingers skimmed her ribs.

"This," Rhys breathed, tracing one of his thumbs along the golden chain adorning her midriff, "was an excellent wardrobe choice."

"You can thank one of the mountain nymphs in the Palace of Thread and Jewels," Feyre said. As if this were a perfectly normal conversation. "She sold it to me."

"I'll make note of that," Rhys murmured, still toying with that gods-damned chain. Feyre fought the urge to squirm. "I owe her my heartfelt gratitude."

"I bought it with your money," she added.

Rhys shut his eyes. She watched him take a deep breath, and she couldn't tell if that knowledge irritated or excited him. When those violet eyes flashed open, bright and burning with hunger, Feyre thought she had her answer.

"Then it was arguably the best money I've ever spent."

"Arguably?"

It was meant to come off as teasing, but with his fingers drifting up her stomach, everything was coming out a little bit strained. And maybe… a little hurt. Not that it mattered if the High Lord regretted spending his money on her.

When Rhysand laughed, his breath danced over her skin, as light a caress as his presence at her mental shields.

"I would claim it with more conviction, but you weren't here for the ass-chewing I received from my second."

"Your—" she broke off with a little gasp as Rhysand's hands slid upwards, dipping beneath the golden band that cinched her top over her breasts. She adjusted her grip on the rope, holding tighter. "Your second in command?"

"Amren," he supplied. "She's a vicious firedrake trapped in a tiny female's body."

"Amren," Feyre echoed, squeezing her eyes tight as those curious fingers began running along the beads hanging beneath her breasts. They made a soft, metallic tink as they swung and collided with each other. "Amren like… like from the children's stories?

Nesta used to tease her with cautionary tales of the bloodthirsty Amren, who lurked in the shadows and sucked on the bones of naughty children. It wasn't the first she'd heard of Rhysand being in cohorts with Amren, but she'd always assumed it was figurative. The way a Priestess was associated with the Mother.

"She doesn't devour misbehaving children, if that's what you're wondering." Rhysand paused, drawing back for a moment with a horrifyingly considerate expression. "Anymore," he clarified.

"Anymore?" Feyre squeaked.

"There's no need to be afraid, Feyre." He grinned, leaning in closer. "Unless, of course, you've been misbehaving. Is there something you'd like to confess?"

Cauldron boil her. Feyre couldn't tell if he was being serious.

"Last I checked, stealing and gambling aren't exactly the traits of a priestess."

"It's a good thing Amren isn't the Mother, then. I think she would find those things amusing," Rhys said, a curious warmth to his voice. One she might even dare to label as affection. "In fact, I think she'd be quite impressed with you."

Feyre repeated, incredulous, "With me?"

"I certainly am."

And before she could digest that statement, Rhys circled a hand to the small of her back, untying the golden band that kept the fabric over her breast secured. It dropped to the floor in a clatter of beading, marking the descent of Feyre's resolve.

Her arms were starting to tremble, and she was grateful she could blame it on the exertion of holding them up. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus on the stinging in her palms from how tightly she gripped the rope. It was far better to focus on her chafing skin than the kiss of cool air against the underside of her breasts.

There was nothing preventing Rhys from slipping his hands beneath the newly loosened fabric and discovering her hardened nipples—not that they weren't already visible, peeking through the thin layer of fabric.

Rhys drew back to observe her, holding his advance for the moment.

"Are you getting nervous, Feyre?" The lapping presence at her mind became a little pushier, more of a prod than a stroke. "Your shield's still holding up nicely."

"Because I'm not nervous," she insisted.

"No?" Rhys leaned in, pressing the tip of his regal nose just beneath her navel. "Is that something else I smell, then?"

"Is it the stench of your own ego?"

"So sharp with me," he chided, momentarily abandoning his conquest near the top of her ribs to guide his nose lower, down to her hip bone, then across the low dip of her skirt. "What will it take to make you soft? Is it just a matter of finding the right spot to stroke?"

Feyre snorted. "I don't think soft is what appeals to you, High Lord."

"Oh?" His eyes flickered up to hers, only briefly, before he resumed his slow exploration. "What is it you think appeals to me?"

Feyre didn't answer. She didn't know how—not once he found the knot that kept her skirt in place. He bit into it, tugging with his teeth despite having two perfectly good hands placed just below her breasts.

Feyre nearly let go. She considered it, at least, as she watched Rhys unravel the knot with his mouth. She had time to stop it from plummeting to the ground in a waterfall of blue cloth. But she didn't.

As it pooled at her feet, Rhys drew away again, taking her in with riveted interest. With her hands occupied, there was nothing she could use to hide from his stare, though she twitched with the urge. She felt like a creature trapped in a frame, laid bare under his assessment.

It wasn't the clothes, or lack thereof. Though, he looked delighted to discover the pair of lacy underthings she'd selected that morning. It wasn't the lust, either. Not when she felt it in equal measure, and had walked into this house fully intending to slate their shared desire.

No, what caught her off guard. What stripped her raw, worse than the rope squeezed between her fingers, was the way that smug smile faded into something… something Feyre didn't know how to name.

His eyes captivated her. Blazing and intent, no different from the moment they met. She couldn't look away from them—and she wanted to, if only to glance over her shoulder and ensure the Mother hadn't materialized behind her back. That was the only way Feyre could have explained the awe creeping over his expression.

His fingers flexed at their place over her ribs, as though restraining the urge to drag them lower.

"You," he said, answering the question she couldn't. On his knees, in that voice… It sounded oddly like a prayer. "I want you however you come, Feyre. Soft or sharp, you're equally exquisite."

Her heart was beating in her throat. "What if I only know sharp?"

"Then be as sharp as you want with me." He was leaning towards her again, less as if driven by hunger and more as if he simply couldn't resist. Like she was the puppeteer, pulling him forward. "Cut me, make me bleed. Just—don't make me stop."

Feyre didn't plan on it. That rope was her lifeline, and she held tight as Rhys dived back against her stomach, his mouth open this time, tasting and nipping at her skin. There would be marks there tomorrow. A trail of love bites across her hips, just beneath the golden chain he seemed so obsessed with.

When she tried to wriggle away, growing impatient, Rhys slid his hands to her hips, locking her in place.

"Stay still for me." She found his orders lost some of their impact when muffled into her stomach. "I told you I intend to taste every inch."

It was a shame she couldn't dive her hands into his hair. If she could, she would have taken hold and pushed his mouth where she actually wanted him—needed him.

"Rhys."

His name was half gasp, half complaint.

"You know." He slid his tongue around the curve of her navel, before mouthing his way to the valley of her breasts. His hands followed in a slow, scraping caress. "I don't think I've ever heard you call me that before."

"Would you—" Feyre's breath hitched as he brushed the back of his knuckles against one of her nipples. "Prefer to be called High Lord?"

That seemed to amuse him. "My bedmates aren't usually so formal."

"What do you prefer then? Master? Milord? Your Great Exaltedness?"

Rhys hummed dismissively. "If you can say that many words, then I'm not doing my job right."

"Well, I've been speaking this whole time. So what does that tell you about how you're doing?"

Feyre knew she was in trouble when Rhys stilled. She didn't know why she always felt the need to provoke him. Maybe it was because she still couldn't figure out why he tolerated it.

This was the same male who threatened to cut off someone's tongue for speaking too casually in his presence. The same male who slaughtered one of his captains without blinking. He had a reputation for ruthlessness, and she'd witnessed firsthand how he'd earned it.

And yet, he always seemed to hold back the breadth of his cruelty around her.

Even now, as he thumbed at her nipple through the loose fabric over her chest, he exuded patience. Musing, "Have you ever tried Illyian tea?"

Tea? Not following where he was going with the question, Feyre answered with a hesitant, "No?"

"It's cold in the Illyrian Mountains," Rhys said, emphasizing his point by ducking to blow a gust of cold breath over her collarbone. Feyre shivered. "The tea keeps us warm, and doubles as treatment for the wounded. It's strong stuff. The kind that burns down your throat and will land you on your ass after too many cups."

"What's your point?"

"You don't savor Illyrian tea. You down it as quickly as possible and wait for the warming to start."

"Okay?"

"I spent most of my youth in the Illyrian Mountains," Rhys went on. "And the first time I attended a High Lord's summit with my father, he smacked me upside the head when I tried to down a thimble of Day Court Mead. He told me I looked barbaric. Day Court Mead is one of the finest wines in Prythian, you see. You're meant to sip it, holding the flavors on your tongue."

"So I'm the mead, then," Feyre said, guessing where he was going with the analogy. "Am I supposed to be flattered that you're comparing me to a drink?"

Rhys didn't answer immediately. He only grinned to himself, before pulling away and rising from his knees. An unsettling response—almost as unsettling as his cryptic, "Stay here."

Then he headed back into the dining room. Feyre leaned through the doorway as best she could to follow what he was up to, but from her vantage point, all she could see was the end of the dining table and the abandoned chairs. She didn't dare let go of the rope to inspect any further.

It could be a trick, after all.

"I swear to the Cauldron, Rhysand, if you intend to leave me hanging from the doorway for the rest of the bargain—"

"You'll what, exactly?" He asked, sauntering back into view with a bottle in his hands, his face the picture of smug amusement.

"You'll owe me anything by the end of this," Feyre reminded him. "If you decide to be cruel, I'll endure it. And then I'll ensure it's repaid in full."

"Such a feisty creature you are." The words sounded gratingly affectionate, the way one would speak to a kitten batting at their leg. "And, pray tell, how will I be repaid if I decide to be kind? Might I expect more warmth from you?"

Feyre narrowed her eyes at the bottle in his hand. "What's that?"

He displayed it proudly before her. "Day Court mead, of course."

That was where he lost her. And it made Feyre nervous, seeing his large hands braced around the bottle, watching as he drew his thumb suggestively around the rim of the cork…

Her voice wobbled a bit as she asked, "W-what are you planning to do with it?"

All it needed was a small push of his thumb and then—pop.

"I want you to try it," Rhysand said, closing the distance between them.

His fingers lodged under her chin, burning where they touched. She was burning in so many places, now. Her hands, raw from the rope. Her chin, warm from his touch. Her cunt, aching with need. And her cheeks, embarrassed from it all.

"Be good for me." Rhys tilted her chin up, until her eyes were level with the sight of her trembling arms, growing white and numb, but still holding fast.

When he raised the bottle, he dragged his thumb across her lower lip, prompting with a single, firm, "Open."

Feyre parted her lips, allowing him to pour the mead into her mouth.

The first drop was like sunlight. Honeycomb drenched sunlight. Sweet, but not like sugar. Sugar was sharp, quick, and over too soon. This was slow, like a sun-warmed nap in a swaying field, rich and indulgent. The longer she tasted, the more depth she discovered, luring her in, somersaulting her towards a golden abyss.

"Don't swallow," Rhys whispered, his voice wending around her, coupled by strokes of dark tendrils that forced her awareness to return to her other senses. On her tongue, a drop had become a flood, filling her mouth until it pooled, then overflowed, streaming down her chin, her neck, her breasts.

She could already feel the sugar sticking to her, but her focus was on remembering to breathe through her nose, trying desperately not to choke while Rhys continued pouring, his other hand cradling her skull as he murmured, "That's it, Feyre. Good girl."

Eventually, the bottle ran dry.

"Not yet," Rhysand said. "You're meant to hold it on your tongue, remember?"

Feyre's throat bobbed uncomfortably. That was another place she was beginning to burn.

"Stay still," he coaxed, leaning in. Their eyes met as his lips fell over hers. Those damn, discerning eyes that saw everything, including the desire she was trying so hard to fight.

He saw it, and smiled, all wicked and taunting. His tongue flicked across her lower lip, tasting the wine. But he didn't stop there.

His fingers curled in her hair, urging her head upright so the mead could flow from her open mouth to his. It wasn't clean by any means. Honeyed wine spilled from the seam of their lips, dripping onto her skin and his clothes, making a mess of them both. She swallowed what was left—it was the only way she could kiss him back, and Rhys didn't seem to have any complaints.

With a groan, he dashed the empty bottle to the floor, bearing no mind to the resulting crash and scattering fragments. He seemed to have much more pressing concerns, which involved scooping Feyre against him to deepen the kiss. His tongue traced her lower lip again, and she opened her mouth, inviting him to taste at the source.

His tongue swept in, tasting of honey, and she wanted so badly to let go of the rope so she could hold him there, to suck at his tongue and bite at his lips. Rhys was in full control, positioning her just as he wanted so he could taste.

Feyre hissed when he pulled away to lick a trail of mead from her chin.

A rasping chuckle was her response. "I've made a mess, Feyre. It's my duty to clean it up."

A hand fisted in her hair and tugged, angling her neck back so he had full license to lick the column of her throat.

Feyre was panting, squirming against his hold and furious that he would stop kissing her. "Rhys—"

"What happened to Your Great Exaltedness?"

He kept her arrested in that position, taking his time to suck and nip at her skin, then pull away with an audible pop. Over and over, he ignored her groans of frustration, creating a path of red welts that were soon interrupted by her sullied top.

"Oh dear, this has been ruined, hasn't it?" He didn't sound the least bit concerned as he ripped at it, casting the garment away as if it were mere cobwebs. "Don't worry, I'll get you a replacement."

And then the heat of his mouth surrounded one of her breasts, his tongue circling her nipple. Feyre gasped, bucking into the air. This was going to be impossible if she didn't have something to ground her, something to—

Rhys, as if sensing what she needed, wedged his thigh between her legs. The pressure against her clit relieved some of the ache, but introduced the new, humiliating urge to drive her hips forward.

She bit her lip, determined to resist.

"Is this what you needed, Feyre?" Rhys coaxed, palming her hip to create the movement for her. She fought a whimper as her clit ground against his hard muscle. "Does that feel better?"

She refused to answer him. But she also didn't stop moving her hips when he let go.

"That's it," he murmured, returning his attention to her breasts. One was cradled in his palm, while the other endured the countless lashes from his tongue, teasing her so mercilessly that she thought she might die if she didn't touch him.

When his teeth clamped down, Feyre screamed, driving her hips against his thigh harder. Her head was beginning to spin, a mixture of exhaustion and pleasure and pain.

As she writhed against him, Feyre started plotting all the ways she would get her revenge once her hands were free. Maybe she'd fish another bottle of mead from his cellar and sip it from his abs. Maybe she'd tie him up and ride his face until he couldn't breathe.

Maybe she'd—

My, don't you have the most delicious thoughts about me.

Feyre froze. Rhysand's mouth was still latched to her breast. Those words hadn't come from his mouth. Which meant that voice…

It was in her mind.

You should pay more attention to your mental shields, Feyre. A lesser male could walk right in and decide to take you up on those filthy thoughts of yours.

Feyre's fingers flexed with the urge to lash out in front of her, as if she could physically push him out. What are you doing?

Did you forget? This was a daemati exercise. And it looks like your shield dropped as soon as you started enjoying yourself.

A familiar sensation crept over her—awareness, like a cold breath cascading down her spine, that her body was yielding to a foreign presence. Her veins became a latticework of strings, and she felt his talons pluck at them, transforming her into a marionette of his will.

Now, now, he tutted. Don't stop on my account, Feyre.

Captive in her own mind, Feyre could do nothing to prevent her hips from rolling forward. Her head tipped back, and without restraint over her body, there was nothing to smother the moan rising in her throat.

There you are, Feyre. Give in to it.

He was everywhere, physical and otherwise. His magic swarmed through the crack in her mental shields, blanketing her mind in a fog of endless starlight. She treaded through it the same way she'd learned how to swim, thrashing and kicking blindly in an attempt to reach the surface. But that assumed there was a surface, an ending to the vastness of power that twined and twisted around her.

Rhys clicked his tongue. Must you always fight me?

Outside their minds, she felt cool air sting her puckered nipple, exacerbated by the saliva glinting there, and the trail of it that led to Rhysand's cat-like grin. She watched him lick his lips as he admired his work: From her flushed skin, covered in love bites and rivulets of golden wine, to her trembling arms, waning in strength. Finally, his attention dipped to his thigh, where the fabric of his trousers had become damp from each consecutive pass of Feyre's hips.

He took a deep, pointed inhale. You can admit you want this. There's no sense hiding what we both already know.

I want—even her mental voice sounded shaky—the money and the favor. Not you.

Immune to her lies, her body continued helplessly rubbing against him. Her breathing quickened as that pressure began to build, winding hot and tight.

Why not me, Feyre? Rhys pushed, almost taunting. He could feel she was close to the edge. Is it because it frightens you?

Because it's not real!

That's not the game we're playing right now.

His tongue snaked along her throat, licking away more of the mead.

Inside, she was grappling against his hold. They thrashed and rolled through the darkness, her claws scraping his, pushing and pulling, ebbing and flowing until they were a tangled mass of magic, so deeply intertwined that Feyre lost all sense of where she ended and he began.

Meanwhile, Rhysand held her, enveloped her, worshiped her with his mouth and hands and talons, and she thought it wouldn't be the worst thing to surrender to this.

Why was she holding herself back?

This is all just a distraction, she reasoned. It doesn't mean anything

Do you want it to mean something, Feyre?

Feyre wanted to scream. Though, from frustration or pleasure she wasn't certain. Everything was becoming muddled, colors bleeding together like water over paint. There wasn't room in her mind to think, and outside her body was being driven to a pinnacle that she couldn't hold back.

Get out of my head!

Rhysand's voice was full of faux sympathy. If it's too much for you, darling, then let go of the rope.

Fuck you.

Oh, I intend to. His voice was starting to sound a little breathless, too. A large hand palmed her backside, moving her faster against him. She watched through half-lidded eyes as his head tipped back with a low, guttural sound. Fuck. Feyre—

The world fractured. Erupted, like dropping into the ocean and feeling the water rush past. She delved deep into that darkness, feeling her own magic rupture and scatter into stars, washing her soul against the shore of his, their very essence seeping through the cracks of the other, becoming a tapestry of magic threaded so tightly she could feel it pulling in her chest.

Feyre let go of the rope.

She didn't know she still had enough control over her body to do so, not until she was already moving, threading her arms behind his neck to crash her mouth to his. It wasn't gentle. He didn't deserve gentle.

Bed, she demanded.

Rhys obeyed without question, not breaking their kiss as darkness folded and unspooled around them, depositing Rhys on his back atop his bed. Feyre straddled him, clawing at his clothes with shaking, rope-burned hands.

Until Rhys caught both wrists, bringing them to his lips one at a time to kiss away the raw flesh.

There's no rush, he soothed, running his thumb across her newly healed palms. We'll have an extra six hours together, after all.

For that comment alone, Feyre tore straight through his jacket and undershirt, coming away with strips of cloth. The High Lord didn't seem to mourn his clothes in the least. She would have taken more time to admire him, to admire the tattoos that she discovered on his chest and shoulders, so strikingly similar to her own.

Except, he was staring up at her, raw delight on his face. So feral—

Shut up.

I'll need to subtract that from your—

I said. Feyre crawled up his body, tearing off her soaked underthings. Shut. Up.

Unfortunately, sitting on a male's face was only an effective silencing technique when that male wasn't a daemati.

What a pretty view, Rhys purred, craning his neck before she'd even finished lowering herself down. The second she was steady, her hands balanced on the headboard, he hooked his arms around her thighs to bring her closer. Here I thought you planned to punish me.

Congratulations, you've proved you can run your mouth. Do you actually know how to use it?

Rhys arched a brow. Even Feyre couldn't believe her own boldness. One of these days, she was going to overstep and find herself on the receiving end of that boundless power, and it wouldn't be teasing and caressing her the way it was doing now.

Don't be so certain. I like that you're not afraid of me.

The purr in his voice heated her blood, nearly as much as that first, filthy kiss he pressed against her cunt. He went slow, using the broad flat of his tongue to part her folds in a long path ending at her clit. That was where he focused his attention, sucking and lashing while he kept her hostage in his grip.

But if you're going to mouth off, he continued without faltering in his expert torture. Be prepared for the consequences.

This, Feyre gasped, doesn't feel like a consequence.

Yet, he said smugly. I have all night with you. And I intend to 'put my mouth to use' until I've had my fill.

She knew he was bluffing. Feyre could count on her hand the number of males who had put their heads between her thighs, and all of them disengaged after a few minutes into the act.

With a growl, Rhys redoubled his efforts. A word to the wise when fucking a daemati: try not to think of other males unless you want them dead.

Jealous?

Insufferably. He nuzzled his face lower, dragging his tongue to her entrance. Do you still remember their names?

No. Even if she did, she wouldn't have told him. On the chance that he wasn't joking when he said they'd end up dead.

Good.

His tongue slid inside her, and the headboard creaked from how tightly Feyre clutched to it, convinced she would topple over when his fingers slid between her legs to supplement his tongue, rubbing tight, delicious circles. Her hips bucked, her climax shattering through her at incredible speed, causing light to dot her vision.

Rhys didn't slow his movements, continuing to lick and stroke her as he crooned, There's only one name you need to remember.

They were still mind-to-mind, completely entangled. Paired with her mind-numbing pleasure, it made the task of searching through her memory rather tedious. It was like trying to navigate a familiar place in the dark, she knew the information was somewhere around here…

Cassian? She said, recalling the name she'd heard from the rumor mill with a great deal of effort.

Rhys growled. Very funny.

Her thighs, clamped tightly around his head, were beginning to twitch as he worked her towards another rapidly approaching edge. Feyre didn't think she could survive this all night.

Wh-what was it you said? If I can say this many words, then you must not be doing a very good—

Those hands at her thighs grabbed her roughly, pushing her off his face and flipping her onto her back in a single, fluid movement. Feyre yelped as one of those hands grabbed her throat, pinning her to the mattress.

You can't help yourself, can you, Feyre?

Not any more than you!

An exasperated laugh rasped out of him, making her think she had just proved his point.

What happened to having your mouth on me all night? She challenged.

I'm thinking I need to tire you out first. Get you a little more… subdued.

He withdrew his hand, then his body entirely. Feyre's mouth went dry as she watched him unbutton his trousers, finally freeing his erection. He had no right to be as big as he was. To be as beautiful and powerful and arrogant as he was and to still have a cock like that…

Feyre hated him a little bit for it. Hated how difficult it would be to walk away from him by the end of this.

Rhys sauntered forward, expression as satisfied as it ought to be with a cock like that swinging between his legs and unfiltered access to each of the filthy thoughts she was having about it.

There'll be time for more play later, he said, pressing a knee into the bed.

He crawled over to her, and she watched his eyes fall over her naked body, parted in invitation for his. The hunger on his face curbed into something softer, something she didn't know what to do with.

You're beautiful, he murmured, seconds before his mouth found hers in a deep, open kiss. He tasted of honey wine and her own arousal, an unexpectedly pleasant combination. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It struck me the moment I first saw you.

His bare skin was so warm against her own, each contact point jolting her with a feeling of rightness. They slotted so perfectly together, his cock nudging at her entrance as she wrapped her legs around his waist, their tongues moving together and their fingers locking so that there wasn't a single part of their bodies and souls that wasn't entwined as Rhys pushed himself in.

Then paused.

Feyre fought a snarl.

Tell me you want this, he said. Forget about the bargain. Tell me this is about more than the money.

I want this. Feyre pulled at him, clashing their noses together from how fiercely she clutched at his face. She pushed her heels into his muscular backside, trying to urge his hips deeper. I want you, Rhys.

He groaned, pushing his hips forward.

The stretch of him was exquisite. Feyre had never felt anything quite like it—the decadent pleasure made sharper by the slight burn as he pushed in further, slowly, ensuring she felt every inch, every delicious place they were joined.

But that was just one layer of the overlapping sensations. There was also the cradle of his body, surrounding her in warmth. The soft lips against her neck, panting sweet, reverent breaths of, Feyre—oh, Feyre.

And then their minds. One seamless, blended entity of magic, of starlight. She could feel him everywhere, no piece of her soul untouched, but she could see all of him, too. Like gazing upon the very fabric of his life, woven from the moment he was born—maybe even before then.

If she plucked at one of the threads, she wondered what she'd find. A memory? A vital fragment of his being?

She wouldn't dare, not when she could feel him staring back so… openly. Like he wouldn't stop her if she tried. It was vulnerable in a way she didn't know how to honor. In a way that made her wary.

You are… Feyre trailed off, failing to find a word that articulated what she saw, what she felt.

Perfect.

That snapped Feyre out of her awe. She blinked, refocusing on her physical body, where he was shaking as he held himself still, letting her adjust and…

And just staring at her. His lips parted open, mouthing a word she couldn't make out as his wild eyes darted over her, studying every detail.

Adequate, Feyre said, narrowing her eyes at him. I was going to go with 'adequate'.

For a moment, Rhys said nothing, his brows pinching together in confusion. And then he seemed to snap out of it, barking a laugh that echoed through the starry cavern of their minds.

I was talking about you, smartass. He leaned down, licking a stripe up her throat that sent ripples of pleasure down her spine. But allow me to demonstrate just how 'adequate' I can be.

He withdrew his hips, just slightly, then plunged them forward, grinding deep as Feyre clawed at his back, panting.

Rhys let out a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest. In their minds, it became a clap of thunder, his magic roiling, surrounding her in zapping, crackling power. Her hair stood on end, her pulse quickening from the thrill, like standing at sea during a storm.

She dug her nails harder, certain she was peeling back skin, and he snarled in encouragement, withdrawing and snapping his hips. Again.

I've thought about this, he rasped, punctuating his words with another hard thrust. Every damn day since our last bargain, Feyre.

He drove into her harder, relentless. Grunting, I haven't been able to get your scent out of my nose.

I haven't been able to get you out of my gods damned mind.

Those words rippled through the space between their minds, echoing his confession. Feyre rolled her hips up, begging him to go harder, faster. Trying to say, in her own way, that she couldn't stop thinking about him, either.

I thought—

His teeth grazed over her pulse, making it jump. Her breath hitched.

Go on, he said, voice molten velvet.

I thought I was supposed to be the one practicing my shields. But it's your mind that can't keep me out.

His laugh was rich, warming her bones. If you think I'm the one with all the power here, Feyre, you are mistaken.

Then, as if to disprove that very statement, he let go. Every restraint, every glamour, every attempt he made to act the average fae—it all disappeared in that moment.

Great, membranous wings unfurled behind his back, blanketing them in the scent of citrus and sea salt. With a splintering crack, his magic untethered, spilling darkness into the room.

Without her sight, it became impossible to differentiate between the mental and physical worlds. As if they existed in a liminal space between, where slapping skin became the thunderous collision of souls, crashing and merging together.

Feyre was certain she was screaming. She thought, distantly, he might have been too. Somewhere, her mortal body clenched around him, hot and fever-bright.

She heard her name, over and over, Feyre, Feyre, Feyre—

And then he shattered, too, shooting every star out of orbit, his magic flooding over her in wave upon wave. She should have been frightened, surrounded by so much unyielding power, but it felt oddly peaceful. Like diving into the sea from her dreams.

She floated through that presence, Rhys buried inside her, both of them panting.

When he withdrew, so did the magic.

It was too bright. Feyre cringed, burying her face into his heaving chest, not caring the least that he was covered in sweat and shaking. They both were.

When she finally pulled away, blinking into the light, she found a pair of stunned violet eyes blinking back. For the first time since meeting him, he looked dumbstruck, mouth opening and closing like he was floundering for words. Like maybe all daemati sex didn't feel that… world ending.

For a long moment, they only stared, catching their breath.

Feyre took the time to reconstruct her mental walls, finding it oddly empty inside her mind without his presence.

Meanwhile, Rhys rubbed a hand down his face, then his chest, feeling absently at his ribs. She wondered if she'd accidentally hit him there when everything went dark.

She felt a bit battered herself. Sticky and sweaty and sore in far too many places. Tomorrow he'd probably take pleasure in laying her out to count each of his bite marks.

"Was that adequate enough for you?" Rhys asked, finally breaking the silence.

Smug bastard.

Feyre shrugged. "You're the High Lord who's supposedly so difficult to please. You tell me."

He smirked. "Lay back, Feyre."

Her mouth popped open. Surely he wasn't serious.

"Already?"

Rhys crawled toward her, wedging his massive body between her thighs. "I told you I wouldn't stop until I've had my fill." He flashed her a wicked smile as he lowered his mouth to her cunt, licking at their shared spend like it was a delicacy.

And I'm not nearly close to finished with you.

At some point, they did stop fucking long enough to eat and bathe—just barely.

Rhysand was ravenous. And Feyre didn't know what had gotten into her, but she was, too. They couldn't stop. Even long after they were exhausted, they kept touching and kissing until they collapsed completely tangled in each other.

Feyre had gotten maybe an hour of sleep, if that, when she woke up to pee.

She took her time on the way back to bed, marveling first at the sleeping form of the most powerful High Lord. He didn't look nearly so intimidating when he was naked and snoring, the blankets strewn haphazardly over his muscular legs.

If she had the time, she would have liked to draw him like this. No one else in the world got to see this version of him.

Except the other females he bedded.

That… was a sobering thought. The reminder that this wasn't some sacred, meaningful tryst. He was paying to fuck her, no different from any other whore in the upscale pleasure house she heard he frequented often.

With burning cheeks, Feyre turned away from his sleeping form, refocusing on why she was here to begin with.

His personal bedroom was larger than the one she'd stayed in last time, though only slightly. He had a worktable, scattered with paperwork and curious trinkets. Star charts and models of planets and books upon books of topics she couldn't discern.

That was another scalding reminder of how far apart their worlds were.

She was really only good at one thing.

Feyre tiptoed to his bedside table, silently pulling the drawer open to inspect its contents. More books, a pair of reading glasses, a velvet box, and a dark crown that she assumed had wound up in here after a late night at some formal gathering.

She imagined Rhys winnowing directly to his bedroom, flinging the crown into the bedside drawer, and collapsing atop the mattress.

It couldn't be easy, this life.

Feyre lifted the crown, measuring its weight in her hands, before she indulged the childlike impulse to place it on her head.

It couldn't be hard, either. Better than starving. Better than whoring yourself to survive.

She rose from his bedside table, searching for a mirror to admire how she looked in a crown, but a hand at her wrist stopped her.

Rhys was reclined across his bed, wings splayed beneath him, a lazy smile stretched across his lips.

"Find something you like?"

Panic seized her chest, squeezing like a fist as she scrambled to think of an excuse. "I—"

His eyes darkened. "Come back to bed."

"Rhys, I'm—"

"Keep the crown on," he said, tugging at her wrist with urgency.

She followed his pull, uncharacteristically pliant as he positioned her thighs over his face, groaning, "Gods, look at you," as he dived his mouth between her legs.

The final six hours of their bargain passed much the same.

There wasn't any noticeable shift to the way Rhys touched her, still slow and indolent, like he had all the time in the world.

It was nearly dusk and they were still in bed, still kissing though too exhausted to do much else. Even so, his kiss was gentle and thorough and maddening.

Feyre missed it when he pulled away.

"Your bargain's fulfilled," he said, breathing heavy. "I can take you home now."

It was a bad sign that it was dread coursing through her instead of relief.

Rather than untangle her alarming mix of feelings, Feyre fisted her hands in his hair, urging his mouth back to hers. Just one more kiss. To remember him by.

Rhys made a low, pleased sound in the back of his throat. He returned the kiss open-mouthed, cradling the back of her head to bring her closer. When she felt him harden against her thigh, they both groaned.

Rhys withdrew again, something achingly hopeful in his expression. "There's nothing preventing you from staying," he added. "If you want to."

That was what scared her—that fact that she wanted to.

Feyre kissed him again. Kissing him was easier than answering. Only, Rhys seemed to take kissing as an answer. He shifted closer, wrapping his wing around them so that she was cocooned in his heat, his scent, his touch.

And as the kissing grew more fervid, she didn't stop him from flipping her onto her stomach. He used his knees to wedge her thighs apart, spreading her open as those strong hands found her hips, urging them up, up, up.

She buried her face in the mattress, already clutching tightly to the sheets in anticipation of that first, perfect thrust.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Rhysand." The voice was female—crisp and edged, entirely undaunted by the High Lord's responding snarl. "You're late."

"Leave us."

It was a direct, uncompromising order, and yet the knocking came again. Louder.

"We are not rescheduling this meeting again. I'm sure your playmate can survive without your cock for an hour."

Feyre was still pressed into the mattress, gaping at him over her shoulder at the way the female was speaking to him. At the way Rhysand was letting her speak to him.

And more so that he listened, turning to Feyre with an apologetic wince. "I need to go. But you can stay here." He paused, hesitating for a moment before adding, "I'd like for you to stay. I'll be back within the hour."

A cough on the other side caused him to blow out a long breath.

"Maybe two hours."

Feyre nodded, slumping into the mattress. Rhys pressed an apologetic kiss into a notch at the top of her spine, then the next. The next. He nearly made it to her ass before the door rattled with an irritated thump.

With a long-suffering sigh, Rhys lifted himself from Feyre's body. It was no easier than trying to lift a boat from the sea; they both felt heavier once they were separated.

"Rest," Rhysand said. "You'll need it when I'm back."

After less than an hour of sleep, the stack of pillows at the headboard was practically calling her name. Feyre made a show of nuzzling into them, wrapping the blankets around her as a surrogate for Rhysand's warmth.

She felt him staring at her. Heard the soft little hmph he made in the back of his throat. A pleased sound, like he enjoyed the sight of her nestled in his bed.

Then, with a wave of his hands, he was dressed, closing the door behind him. She heard him speak to the female on the other side, their voices too muffled to discern, but she could tell he was grumbling about something.

Feyre listened intently as those voices faded down the hall. She waited until she was certain they were gone.

Quietly, she crawled to the edge of the mattress and opened the bedside drawer. The crown had been tossed to the floor some time in the night, but the rest of the objects were still there.

Including that velvet box.

Feyre reached for it, parting it open with her fingers to confirm its contents.

From there, it took all of five minutes to slip on her clothes and bolt out of the town house without looking back.

#god I hope this lives up to the expectations #Queen of Thieves #Feysand #Feysand fic #Feysand fanfic #Feysand fanfiction #Feyre x Rhys #Rhys x Feyre #Feyre x Rhysand #Rhysand x Feyre #QOT

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angelicpoison12 · 2 days ago

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HIII SNOWFLAKE i’ve never requested anything b4 but your writing is just too good shdjsbs😵‍💫. anyway my request is stepdad!adam x fem!reader. he hears his name from her room and so obviously he goes to check up on reader….and is pleasantly surprised to see that GASP!! his sweet little stepdaughter touches herself to the thought of him??? adam is willing to help her out but the guilt he feels is sickening. ILY YOUR WRITING!!!

JDHCJJDJDN I LOVE YOU COSMII MUAH!! since i unfortunately don’t write for specifically fem!reader, i’ll be making the reader gn BUT they’ll be an AFAB :P

i had so much deranged fun writing this btw <33 KEEP YOUR REQUESTS COMING PRETTY PLEASE!! :3

CW: Dead Dove Content, Incest

don’t like, don’t interact! thank you! ❤︎︎

wordcount: 2.4k (i’m insane.)

reader is referred to as; kiddo, kid, honey, babydoll, love bug <3

NSFW, 18+ ★

why did men have to be so fucking stupid?

okay, to be fair, it wasn’t men specifically, it was boys. boys on your college campus.

they didn’t see your worth.

your mother always encouraged you, and gently told you how lucky you were for your looks. but it didn’t really help your self-esteem when your bio dad left. even with your mom assuring you it wasn’t your fault.. a small part of you felt guilty, even after it had been near a decade.

Adam started as a family friend.

he’d come to all of your birthday parties, family gatherings, and more. if only you had known what a scumbag he was..

the real reason why your dad left was because Adam’s dick was just too. damn. good.

he had walked in, and she was getting railed from behind, right on the kitchen table, where your poor dad had spent countless hours doing your math homework with you.

“suck it, cuck!”

Adam laughed, his sharp canines glinting, landing a powerful hand on your mother’s behind.

mother like her own kiddo, eh?

she remarried to Adam only six months after his leaving. you didn’t mind as time passed. you liked Adam; you enjoyed his company, and he often gave you whatever you wanted since he was loaded with money. he had paid your college tuition in full, aiding you to not have any student debt.

Adam had watched you grow ever since you were just nine. but ten years can make someone develop quite a bit.

he had remembered your first period, and that was when he had first gotten the sick twisting in his gut. what the fuck? when Pinocchio was starting to appear, the sickness turned to guilt. how the fuck could he see his little love bug in such a light?

the guilt slowly became carnal.

if there was a field of strawberries, with a ten foot tall fence.. he’d climb it if he was hungry enough.

one night, Adam came to your room, wanting to talk to you. but he heard the faintest sound of ruffling..

it sounded like your bed.

Adam’s first thoughts went to there being a boy in your bed. his fists clenched at his sides reflexively, and he could feel his jaw clenching. swallowing, Adam decided to put his ear to the door. fuck, he felt like such a pervert, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, right?? i mean, he could be killing puppies, or-

“fuck, Adam..!”

wait..

did his sweet little love bug just call out his name?

Adam had to stabilize himself, a hand on the door, taking deep breaths, trying to make sure he was in reality and not some cruel dream.

“Adam, daddy.. please,”

he heard your breathy tone, and a soft, faint buzzing coming from your room. Adam bit his lip, a hand sneaking down to gently palm at his growing bulge. he had to stifle a groan through the flesh of his lips, nearly drawing blood. fuuuuckkk..

your noises, the activity you were doing.. you were the most prized, yet most forbidden fruit to ever exist. and boy did he want to sink his teeth into it, feel the juices drip down his chin, as if it were a summer’s peach. he knew you were still a virgin. anytime you would get a date, Adam would sabotage, your date somehow falling ill, or (literally) falling. sometimes it would get so bad to the point where Adam would scare you from going out with other boys.

he had been plotting. he was greedy. Adam was a selfish, sick, twisted man.. but who wouldn’t want their little beloved baby to themselves? isn’t it what every dad wants? to be connected with their kiddo in every way possible?

Adam turned away, fearful, and not wanting to startle you. he’d take care of himself.. you were just exploring. he’d help you out some other time, maybe when the guilt didn’t make him want to throw up, or when he knew that you weren’t a scsry resemblance of your blessed mother.

the world was cruel. the devil would somehow catch up to you, and for Adam, it was making him fall in love with his wife’s flesh and blood.

the next morning, Adam made you some childhood pancakes.

“gee, i haven’t had these in forever,”

you said, happily digging into the pancakes with chocolate chips in them.

“only the best for my beloved love bug.”

Adam said, warmly patting your head and kissing your forehead.

after eating, you grabbed your bag. Adam stopped drinking his coffee and set his book down, glasses against his nose.

“where you headed, lovebug?”

“oh, this guy invited me to go bowling.”

Adam checked his watch.

“.. at 9 o’clock in the morning?”

he asked, quirking a brow in suspicion.

“well, yeah. they open soon, and we wanna get there early since it’s a Sunday.”

oh! of course Adam was having fucked thoughts about his kid on the holiest day of the week!!

“oh, uh.. yeah, of course,”

Adam grunted, trying to hide his sheepish grin.

“y’know, this ol’ man gets lonely, with you being gone so much.”

Adam said, scratching his stubble. it made you weaken, your smile widening as you came over to him. just like when you were a kid, you climbed into his lap, sitting there at the kitchen table.

“daddy, i’ll never be too old to let you go. i swear on it. it’s just a date! i’ll be okay, i promise.”

you said.

‘but you won’t be okay.. you need me.’

Adam’s thoughts were getting clouded with hunger again. but he hid it well, smiling as he kissed your cheek. once, then twice, then the third time on your forehead, making you giggle and squeal.

“okay, kiddo.. just be careful.”

he hummed, golden eyes full of adoration.

oh, he was fucked. your date.

“my parents won’t be home for hours,”

your date panted, pulling his shirt over his head.

“sweet..”

you said, already a little apprehensive.

he noticed this. his name was Mike, you remembered.

“hey, what’s the matter? we doing this or what?”

Mike asked, looking you up and down.

clearly, when Mike had taken you bowling, the real bowling had only lasted thirty minutes..

but who can say no to a free hookup?

snapping out of your daze, you nodded quickly.

“yeah! just.. let’s do it,”

you muttered. Mike climbed on top of you, and you ran your hands through his black locks, kissing him. it felt so fake. it was as if Mike was made of artificial sweeteners with a dash of Steevia.

“ow-! fucker, clip your nails!”

your barked when Mike tried to finger you bone dry.

“well it’s not my fault! you’re not even wet!”

he argued back.

“because you went straight to my pants! you’ve gotta warm up,”

you said, pouring. Mike scoffed and threw back on his shirt.

“thanks, bitch. my boner’s completely gone..”

oh, so now it was your fault! great!

“whatever. see ya, Mike,”

you said, grabbing your jacket and zipping your pants back up, leaving out the door.

Adam’s car was already outside of Mike’s apartment.

you didn’t even question why or how Adam was there. the second you got in the car, you began to sob. Adam held you, gently cooing and shushing you, attempting to soothe you.

“shh.. what happened, lovebug? talk to me,”

you couldn’t even stammer out the words. all you could do was shake your head, tears of frustration and shame in your eyes.

“i wanna go home..”

you blubbered, feeling Adam’s thumbs tenderly brush away your tears. he pressed soft kisses all over your face, letting his lips linger when they were just a few centimeter from your plush lips.

“of course. anything for you, kiddo.”

Adam had the radio on, and you were curled up in the passenger seat. you were pissed. primarily at Mike, but also your own foolishness. why couldn’t you get aroused with Mike? it was making you feel guilty and gross.

“when we get home, you tell me what you want for dinner, okay? your mom is going to be home late, so we can have whatever you want.”

Adam said, a hand gently going to your knee.

you looked at him. just the touch of Adam, his large hand nearly taking up half of your thigh.. fuck.

then your heart began to race, gears twitching and flicking in your brain. this was your step dad! you weren’t supposed to think of him like this? he had taken care of both you and your mother for the last good portion of your life, and the one way your mind wanted to repay him was through grotesque deeds?

“babydoll? you in there?”

Adam asked, gaining your attention once more.

your eyes blinked a few times, the dissociation ending.

“i asked whataya want for dinner, but your mind seems somewhere else.”

he chuckled, smirking. you blushed and began to stammer, but Adam cut you off, his grip on your thigh tightening.

“that boy.. he didn’t hurt you none, did he?”

Adam asked, nearly growling.

“because i swear to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, if that son of a bitch did anything to you-“

“no! he didn’t do anything, dad!”

you gasped out, squirming. his nails were digging into your pants, almost tearing the fabric.

you stayed in bed for the first hour of being home, curled up and crying. you seriously thought it was your fault, not the fact that Mike was an asshole.

needing relief, you reached into your bedside drawer.

it was a simple magic wand vibrator. not too big or bulky; but bright pink with rhinestones on the handle, making it pretty easy to figure out what it was to any adult eye.

before you could turn it on Adam was knocking on your door.

“hey lovebug, i’m making dinner now, okay?”

“uh-okay, thanks, dad-!”

you squeaked, quickly hiding the vibrator under your bedsheets, making them rustle a little.

“you okay in there, kiddo? you’ve been in there ever since we got home..”

Adam ended up letting himself in. the first thing he did was open your curtains, muttering about how you needed some light, and the immediate shine made your eyes burn.

“AH! dad, what the fuck-?!”

you shrieked, throwing the blankets off, rushing up to close the curtains.

both of your guys’ eyes lingered what was now exposed.

“oh god-dad, it’s not.. i just.. fuck,”

you said, sighing, head hanging low. there was no point in defending yourself.

wordlessly, Adam went to your bed. he grabbed the wand by the handle and turned it on, looking dead at you. his eyes were unreadable, and that terrified you.

“is this what you were using last night?”

he asked bluntly. the question made you almost blink like a frog, shocked.

“i-what?”

“i said,”

Adam pressed the wand against your crotch, flicking it on, making you gasp sharply. any sane person would’ve pulled away, maybe slapped him, called him a pervert and ran away.

but you stayed still. in fact, you clung to Adam like a lifeline, trembling, jaw slack in pleasure.

“well? answer me.”

Adam growled, a hand coming to grasp your chin, roughly tugging your face up to meet his, your noses touching.

“yes,”

you managed to whisper, squirming, the buzzing of the wand filling the room.

“you’re fucking filthy, y’know that? i heard you last night. calling out my name.. you weren’t even trying to hide your lust,”

Adam growled, pressing the wand deeper into your sweatpants, watching your thighs tremble.

he had climbed the wall, sank his teeth into the flesh of the peach, and now his belly was aching. he was paying for it. an exchange of five minutes of pleasure for years to come of guilt.

you continued clinging to him, head in his chest, moaning and worming around. somehow, the wand felt more overwhelming when Adam was holding it. one of his hands were on your hip, holding you in place so that you couldn’t run away, the other in your hair.

“shhh, that’s it, babydoll.. i’m gonna give you what you need,”

he chuckled, dark and grinning like a maniac.

your hooded eyes looked up at him, hazy. you came with a silent cry, fists balled up in his faded shirt, grinding your hips into the wand at a merciless pace.

“thatsss itttt, yeah! good job, kiddo, that’s it, cum for daddy,”

you never thought hearing Adam call himself ‘daddy’ would make you gush, but it did, and you felt your belly curling in disgust at it.

when Adam turned off your vibrator and set it down, he continued to hold you, eventually laying you back down in bed.

“dad..”

you whispered. he looked at you, eyes soft. with tears in yours, you whimpered,

“what we just did.. was.. oh god..”

you choked, feeling yourself start to cry.

“baby, no, shh, none of that,”

Adam said, gently kissing your forehead, then placing a kiss on your lips.

it caught you off guard, but you reciprocated happily. almost.. eagerly.

your tongues were soft as they tangled. when Adam pulled away, he nuzzled your nose in an Eskimo Kiss.

“Adam and Eve were the first humans on Earth, right?”

you nodded, a little confused on where he was going with this.

“they had kids, right?”

“y.. yeah..? dad, why are you telling me this-?”

“let me finish, and you’ll know why.”

Adam said.

“so, they were the first people, right? and they had kids. well, if there was no one else on Earth to populate with..”

Adam made a motion. your eyes widened. i mean, it was kind of-no, it was really fucked up, the fact that he was trying to justify what had just happened. then again, the more you thought about it… was he not right?

all you knew was that you didn’t want this to be the last time. hell no. even if this was taboo, and you’d have to cut off ever seeking a boyfriend, that didn’t matter. all that mattered was Adam.

all you needed was your daddy to take care of you. right?

my sweet snowflake buddies!

@6esiree, @cosmiiwrites, @ithopi0s, @frxstwalker, @activesplooger

#hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #Adam x you #Adam x y/n #Adam x gn!reader #dead dove do not eat #dead dove Adam #stepdad!adam

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