#thanks Cherri and her chat

[melouthechalk]

Hey guys, he's seagull now!!

Cool, right??

some au info under the cut <3

In this au every winner have a prize, it can give ability's or protection but its always tiny and looks like it isn't worth it

(i didn't watch Scott's pov in Last life so only three)

If evo member have this prize, they can change their physical form into godlike, but to do it they need a key

For Watcher's its dance, Grian- Waltz with Scar, Pearl- Tapdance (bc of Curses by The Crane Wives)

For Listener's its word, Martyn in this au literally one day old, so no words for him yet

For normal people like Scott it's mostly like amulet, it can save him (like, he takes less damage and etc) and he's immune to godlike power

also Scar is win in 3rd life too, but he didn't get a prize lol

[nandysparadox]

EROS AND PSYCHE!!! ONE OF MY FAVORITE BELOVED STORIES <333

Tell me everything, tell me ALL, I want to hear your thoughts on them!!!

OKAY YAY !! ^_^ i knew the general beats of their story but when i got it in my head to do a psyche design (for no reason mind you) and i decided to do some more research about them and that snowballed and i love them i simply love them and i need a million trillion posts and fanarts of them on my desk now

it's really interesting, because you can very clearly see their influence in story-telling - like a lot of elements from the myth ended up present in fairytales we know. and i sure hope im not making that connection from thin air but im pretty sure im not.

and also. they're cute And their love story is still rife with conflict. you know i love drama. i love some yearning. there's potential here i tell you. especially in their palace era. theyre together and still due to external forces they can't quite be together. they're close and yet distant. and besides that everything they go through is very compelling. eros and aphrodite's mother-son relationship is actually quite fascinating, like there's a lot there to explore. psyche is quite literally going through the horrors the whole time and although you feel terrible for her it makes for quite a journey!

and everyone in this story is at least a little bit of a hater and that's very funny to me im sorry.

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔

𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝑳𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝑩𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. unprotected sex (don’t do that folks), smut, cute farm things, size kink, reader has big gorgeous breasts, rough sex (if you squint), lots of cum, dom dynamics (kinda), etc.

𝟔𝟎𝟎+ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍!!! 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒! 𝐈 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @anitalenia

Once the first snow stuck to the ground you were packing your stuff to visit your grandparents at the farm. The snow covered everything and you loved spending time with your grandma it was a tradition. Placing your foot out of your car you were smiling wide as your grandma greeted you holding a cherry pie. Your favourite. Running into her arms you hugged her tight. You were telling her everything, how you were and how happy you become since it was a long time since you actually visited the family farm. Several miles out from the city, the nature hit differently. Now– especially close to Christmas. You promised to decorate your grandparents house and cook many delicious meals with your grandma. After all… she was like your mom. A golden soul-

“Logan! Come in! Would you like a slice of pie?!” Your grandma called from the kitchen. The backyard door was open, so you peeked out seeing an older man cutting down several logs of wood. He wore a very cozy jacket- the tallest man you have ever seen. His hands wrapped around the end of the axe and he swung it effortlessly making you jump slightly. “I’m alright Mrs Harper just gonna finish this wood for ya. Laura is comin home from school soon.” He grunted out, you bit your lower lip. You swore that he had the most attractive physique you’ve ever seen despite the greying beard and the silver grey hair. He was so strong, the long legs of his- your thighs pressed together unaware you were actually staring he stopped cutting the logs giving you a gentle stare back. You were like a ray of sunshine– your eyes and the apples of your cheeks. Your height alone made his cock heavy in his jeans. He didn’t know how to feel whether to simply kidnap you and fuck you silly or to just stay away from you. Option number two was more suitable and it was rare that women would look at him and acted the way you did. Women avoided eye contact with him especially the younger ones because well- he was trice their age just like you. He swallowed and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Y/N! It’s cold come in” your grandma grabbed your arm gently yanking you inside the cottage. Logan smirked softly to himself. Thinking to himself you were certainly a very young flesh and he shouldn’t even think about anything- but you attracted him.

“Alright I’m done Mrs Harper” he came inside the cottage placing the keys from the barn on the counter. You kept your gaze down on your coffee warming your hands around the cup. “Thank you so much Logan.” Your grandma smiled. “Are you sure I can’t give you some pie to go?” He shook his head slowly eyes on you. Gosh you felt his gaze burning the back of your head. “I’m sure Mrs Harper you have yourself a good evening. Both of ya” surely this man had manners, and that was even more attractive. “Goodbye Logan! Tell Laura she’s more than welcome to come here and spend time with my granddaughter!” Logan smiled nodding his head “Surely.” Once the man left you took a deep breath. Your cheeks burned. “He’s a good man. But very, old for you.” Your grandma cupped your cheek and you nodded. “I wasn’t thinking differently.” You lied taking a gulp of the warm coffee. The warmth of the coffee leaving a pleasant feeling in your chest as you chatted away with your grandma until your grandfather returned home.

Early in the morning you attended the animals, of course you fed them and changed waters for them. You cuddled few chickens and collected the eggs from the hens and cleaned out their coop. Once the animals were taken care of you visited the horse stalls. Holding a bag with sliced carrots you fed your favourite before an exciting thought occurred to you. You could ride your horse- you haven’t got to in a long time and the morning ride could definitely refresh your mind. Saddling your horse you greeted your grandfather as he entered the stalls smiling wide as he thanked you for all the work you’ve done the entire morning. Galloping out the stalls you waved to your grandma, giggling as your horse nodded its head and jumped over the wooden railing. You rode him through the snowy field and your soul felt freed. It was so amazing that one moment you thought you were flying until you saw a truck drive by, you stilled your horse. It was Logan- it seemed like he was returning from town. “Good Morning!” You called as he slowed down. He wore specs, you blushed as he greeted you back “Mornin, didn’t know you can ride.” He parked his truck on the side of the road you mesmerised by the sight of you sitting on that beautiful horse wearing a jacket with simple jeans but the sexiness and good energy radiated from you creating warmmess all around you. You nodded eagerly “Of course I can. I grew up here, he’s mine” you caressed your horses mane. Logan observed you, how beautiful you looked and those thoughts quickly changed because his eyes fell to your chest. You were indeed ‘gifted’ by Mother nature. “Who’s Laura?” You asked him “My daughter” he responded lighting a cigar. The smoke escaped through the window of his car. “Are you married?” You wondered no agenda behind it of course you stayed respectful. “I’m not sweetheart, are you?” The question made you giggle. “No Mr, I’m definitely not married.” Logan smiled small putting the cigar between his lips still sitting in his truck. Your horse was becoming impatient so you said your goodbyes. It was a short conversation but he called you a sweetheart and that woke butterflies in your belly. Logan thought of you.. oh he thought of you more than he actually should. So he did anything to busy himself- not to think of you. Just a man after all… and you? This young happy woman. For him to ruin.. later.

You wanted to meet Laura. Your grandma said that she’s a young girl and that she loved animals. Knowing you’re great with kids you finished your evening by attending the animals again lastly giving your horse a gentle brush and you plated his mane. You were just a farm girl thinking big about men and how one day you wanted to get married. Unfortunately not having a good luck with men only once and that one broke your heart so you broke up two years ago. Work occupied your mind and truly you haven’t even registered that you were walking to the lake nearby the farmhouse. Seeing the lights in the cottage across and the truck parked near you figured it’s Logan’s. Life was different out here… it was so good. The peace and quiet. Closing your eyes smelling the fresh winters evening breeze– it was freeing. Your grandma called for dinner so you let the thoughts about the charming Logan be for a moment and you walked back inside your farmhouse. The next morning was the same, work with the animals and then cooking with grandma. You were picking the winter apples for apple pies since the bake sale would be on Saturday. You helped as much as you could and to busy your mind. “Look who is visiting today!” Your grandfather brought a basket full of apples holding Laura’s hand. She was a little girl.. with dark beautiful hair and dark eyes. She smiled at your grandma- you greeted her and soon you two were getting along. She wasn’t talking much but understood quite well. “Where’s your daddy today?” Your grandma asked softly. “Hunting” she responded tasting some of the sliced apples. You frowned “Hunting with a shotgun? Like hunting animals?” You were so against it but people did it of course those ones who owned a license for it. “Yes.” She nodded and you put the dough down. “Are you hearing this?” You let out a frustrated growl. “How can someone hurt innocent animals!”

“You are A BAD MAN MR!!” You ran up to his truck pointing at him. “Am I?” He gruffly responded getting out. “You shoot animals!” You scowled. “And?” He gave you another response fuelling your frustration. “Yes! Did you shoot any today?” You asked following him around the truck. “Maybe. Now whatcha doing here little girl? Go back to your horses. Are you even good at something different? Callin me a bad man.” He tsked. “Well yes I am!! Now that’s also rude!” You responded clearly angry with him. “Like what? Fucking?” He arched a brow lighting a cigar leaning against his truck. “Excuse me?!” You gasped, your cheeks growing hot. “Well you ride a horse good can you ride some cock too?” You couldn’t believe the way he said it. “Maybe” you closed the distance between you two bravely looking up at him. “I don’t ride strangers cock, a man at your age.. you’re not my type Mr.” Logan took a hit of his cigar blowing the smoke in your face. “So why the starin and fuck me eyes n’all?” You pressed your thighs together. “I can smell you princess. That pussy is wet” he motioned with his eyes and you pulled the cigar out of his mouth throwing it. Getting on your tiptoes you pressed your lips against his, Logan responded hungrily sweeping you off your feet carrying you inside his cottage. Throwing you in his bed he unzipped his jacket breathlessly looking at you. His stare was filled with desire, darkness.. and you were still too dumb to understand it. Your brain just couldn’t wrap around it- why did men look at women this way especially when they needed ‘some’– they were like hungry animals you feared you were about to be devoured like a prey.

“That’s it babygirl” Logan guided you on his cock, his eyes were glued to your breasts which threatened to jump out of your blouse as you shamelessly bounced on his thick veiny cock. You held his shoulders for support and those big calloused hands roamed your thick thighs. “F-fuck” he shuddered holding fistfuls of your ass before letting go and slapping it making you yelp and moan even louder. “I-I c-can ride so good just like my horsey” you babbled as he hummed letting you rise your hips up and take him back right inside of you bouncing up and down his cock. He was so hard, your ridged walls welcomed him coating him in your juice and that caused you to whimper out. “Too dumb to understand when a man wants you princess” he breathed slapping your ass again making you mewl clenching around his cock. “Argh I should be fucking you so good right now” he tsks drawing fast circles against your clit making you lose the current pace. You were not able to ride him as he continued to please your clit like that. “M’so close..” you sobbed. Your breasts bounced as you started to ride quicker, your core blooming with warmth approaching your climax but Logan seemed to be displeased. “Fucking yourself on oldman’s cock and being dumb about it too” flipping you over so he was on top of you- making you cry out. He sheated himself entirely into you your toes curling and you helplessly moaning as he began to snap his hips into you. “that’s right baby, cry around old man’s cock. So dumb because of some cock” you nodded truthfully.. you only had sex once and now you didn’t know how to breathe since he was filling you out so good.

One orgasm later, you cleaned yourself in the bathroom gosh you were so full of him seed. Blushing furiously, when he came to the bathroom. His body was littered in scars, smoking a cigar it rested lazily between his lips. Standing by the sink, you shivered when he stood right behind you hovering above you “already leavin?” Asking, you nodded touching the sink. His big calloused hand traveled over your side to your belly down to your sex. He smelled the mess on it.. and in it. You both made so much mess. “Could think of ways to make you stay buttercup..” you swallowed looking at him in the mirror. You felt his hot erection on the curve of your butt and soon he was sinking back inside of you from behind. This way you never had it this way- it felt so much more deeper and dizzying. “Oh gosh..” leaning your back against his chest gripping his big forearm he grunted snapping his hips into you clapping his front against your ass. The cigar still burned between his lips and your eyes rolled back into your skull. The endless lines of moans and whimpers Logan found himself wrapping his arms around your front both hands grabbing a hold of your breasts. “F-fuckkkk” he breathed speeding up his thrusts fucking into you, with not just vigour but joy. The way your walls hugged his cock was out of this world “feels so good baby.. letting an old man fuck your pussy like this” you whined trembling with approaching orgasm and as his thrusts grew rougher your were hit with an earth shattering orgasm. The tip of his cock nestled against your sweet spot and you couldn’t last any longer, you clenched and milked all of him until he was forced to still his hips leaning on the wall above you with his hand letting out hungry growls and moans against your ear filling your core with another load. You believed that your legs turned to jelly as you collapsed against his chest your head lolling back against his right peck. “You gonna come back buttercup..” you nodded with a small smile. “Maybe.. but promise me you won’t shoot any animals” he nuzzled his nose against your own before capturing your lips in a deep lusting kiss. You felt his cock grow in your core stretching it again, and you knew you weren’t going to make it back to the farmhouse anytime soon.

-

(Any mistakes or typos I apologise in advance)

[holylulusworld]

Collateral Damage (1)

Summary: He only wanted some coffee.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: secret admirer, kinda love-struck Bucky, shooting, violence, blood, getting shot

Collateral Damage masterlist

Bucky hates it when things go wrong. He just hates it. Especially when he didn’t expect things to go awry.

On any other day, he’d expect things to turn out for the worst. Just not today. Today, of all days, shit had to hit the fan.

All he wanted was a coffee at his favorite café and a slice of the pie the owner bakes every Friday.

If he’s honest, Bucky would admit that he comes to the little bakery every Friday afternoon to see the woman he spotted some months ago.

She’s there every Friday after work to order tea, chamomile, and a cupcake. Sometimes she’s adventurous and takes a cinnamon roll.

Bucky chuckled when he heard her talk to the barista, telling her she wanted to be wild that day. He couldn’t help but smile at her innocent guilty pleasure. She was so unlike the people in his life. Sweet and kind.

Today, he wanted to talk to her. Today, he planned on introducing himself to the sweet woman stealing his heart bit by bit over the last few months.

Fate had different plans...

One hour earlier.

Bucky is in a good mood. No, he’s having one of the best days of his life. Business is good. He’s on top of the food chain, and he will finally talk to the woman he’s going to make his queen one day. – One step after another.

He opens the door to the little café he found when he was aimlessly roaming the streets of New York. Bucky only wanted to blow off some steam and sort his thoughts but ended up at the little café with coffee and pie. Finding so much more.

Bucky smiles as the little bell above the door rings. It feels like coming home every time he enters this place.

The owner greets him whenever Bucky is around, and the barista knows his favorite order. A risk, Bucky’s best friend Steve would say. Escapism from his life, Bucky would say.

She’s already there, engrossed in yet another book. This time, it’s a dark romance novel about a mafia boss and a shy librarian. Bucky knows because he googled the name to find out as much as possible about the books she loves to read.

“Hello,” the owner waves at Bucky, smiling as she passes him by. “Frankie will get you the usual.”

“Thank you,” Bucky nods before looking for a table closer to her. It’s the first time he’ll sit close to her, not at his favorite table, to watch her from afar.

“All for our favorite regular,” she says, walking away to check on the pies in the back of the café.

Bucky smiles. A soft smile, a genuine one. This place holds magic he can’t explain. It’s the calm in his life. Haven. An escape.

“Coffee and cherry pie coming your way,” the waitress says, balancing a tray in one hand.

Bucky frowns. He’s not a fan of changes. The new face walking toward his table, chirping and smiling as she struggles to not drop the tray, brings tension back into these fleeting, peaceful moments he spent at the café.

His instinct kicks in seconds before the waitress drops the tray to point her gun at him. Bucky takes her out with one precise shot, a bullet to her forehead.

People start to scream, and chaos breaks out. Most of the customers ran out of the café, along with the owner.

“I won’t miss,” the barista he chatted with so many times says. They jump over the counter, gun aimed at Bucky. “Your time has come.”

Bucky huffs. He’s about to shoot his attacker when a book hits the barista’s head. It’s almost hilarious. If not for the gun pointing in his direction, Bucky would laugh.

“Bitch,” the barista turns their attention toward you, their attacker. You gasp and drop to the ground, crawling under the table as they shoot in your direction.

Bucky reacts in a split second. He tackles the barista to the ground, taking them out with one hard punch to the chin. “Bastard, I’ll get to you later.”

He gets back up to look for her, his savior, and the sweet woman who enchanted him. Bucky gasps, watching you hunch over, blood soaking your pretty sundress.

“Doll, no,” he crouches beside you to cradle you in his arms. Bucky presses his hand to the wound on your arm, sighing because it’s not a deadly wound. “I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“I,” you carefully touch his hand. “That wasn’t how I expected to finally get to know your name …”

[pucksandpower]

Lover

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the little (and not so little) ways that you and Charles show your love for each other

You’re in the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you listen intently to Charles’ mother give you her famous tiramisu recipe step-by-step. “Now, this next part is very important,” she stresses. “You’ll need one cup of granulated sugar to add to the mascarpone filling.”

“Got it, one cup sugar for the filling,” you confirm.

Pascale chuckles warmly. “I’m so glad Charles has found such a lovely girl who wants to learn my recipes. He’s always loved my tiramisu since he was a little boy.”

You smile, touched by her kind words. You and Charles have been together for a year now, but it still makes your heart flutter to be so accepted into his close-knit family.

“It means so much to me that you’re sharing this recipe with me,” you tell Pascale sincerely.

You chat with her a while longer, going over some of the trickier steps and getting tips on how to best soak the ladyfingers. Finally, you have the full recipe memorized and are ready to give it a try.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Thank you so much again, Pascale! I really appreciate you taking the time to walk me through this.”

“Of course, chère! Let me know how it turns out. Charles is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful girlfriend,” Pascale says warmly before hanging up.

You grin, eager to get started. You know tiramisu is Charles’ absolute favorite dessert and you want to surprise him with a homemade version tonight after he finally comes back from his latest race.

Humming to yourself, you gather the ingredients — mascarpone, eggs, espresso, cocoa powder, and of course, the sugar. You double check you have everything and preheat the oven so the ladyfingers will be perfect.

As you start the recipe, you feel a rush of excitement. You follow each step meticulously, Pascale’s voice guiding you in your mind. You carefully separate the eggs and beat the whites to stiff peaks. When it’s time to add the sugar to the mascarpone filling, you pause.

Now, which one was the sugar again? You look between the two identical jars of white powder, second-guessing yourself.

Shoot, you should have labeled them.

After a moment of hesitation, you decide on the bowl on the left. Yes, that must be sugar, you reassure yourself. You mix it into the silky mascarpone filling until it’s perfectly combined. Once assembled, you spread the filling over the ladyfingers and cover it with a final dusting of cocoa powder.

It looks absolutely beautiful. You did it! You made Charles’ favorite dessert completely from scratch. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he takes the first delicious bite.

You glance at the clock as you clean up. Charles will be home soon. You carefully store the tiramisu in the fridge to chill until after dinner.

Right on time, you hear Charles’ keys in the lock. You hurry to greet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you!”

He grins and nuzzles your neck. “And I missed you, ma belle.”

Over dinner on the balcony, Charles tells you all about the race and his ambitious one-stop strategy under the Suzuka cherry blossoms. You listen attentively, asking questions and laughing at his dramatic reenactments.

Finally, it’s time for dessert. “I have a surprise for you,” you say with a playful smile.

Charles’ eyes light up. “Oh really? Do tell!”

You bring the chilled tiramisu to the table, along with two small plates and forks. “Ta-da! I made your favorite, with your mom’s secret recipe.”

“No way, you’re kidding!” Charles exclaims. He takes in the layered dessert with delight. “It looks incredible, mon cœur. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

You blush happily as you dish out servings for both of you. “I hope I did it justice. Your mom walked me through the whole thing over the phone.”

Charles takes a big eager bite, closing his eyes as he savors it. “Mmm … it’s absolutely delicious,” he declares after swallowing. “Seriously, this is amazing. Here, you have to try it!”

He holds out a forkful toward you. You accept it into your mouth, immediately bursting into incredulous laughter. “Oh my god, this is so salty! I definitely screwed up somewhere. You don’t have to eat it!”

But Charles just grins and takes another hearty bite. “What do you mean? It tastes perfect to me.”

You stare at him in confusion. “You can’t actually like this, Charles. It’s like I poured the entire salt shaker in by accident.”

“No no, it’s great! The best tiramisu I’ve ever had,” he insists. Seeing your disbelief, he takes your hand from across the table. “Really, Y/N. I love it because you made it just for me. With love. That’s what makes it so special.”

You feel your insides turn soft and melty at his words. “You’re just saying that to be nice,” you protest weakly.

He shakes his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because ...” He pauses, looking into your eyes sincerely. “Because I’m completely in love with you, mon amour. I’d eat a thousand salty tiramisus if it made you smile like this.”

You can’t help the joyful laugh that escapes you. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” You tease him.

“Only for you,” he flirts back with a playful wink.

You lean across the table to kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, the adoration shining in his green eyes leaves you breathless.

Maybe he’s right. It doesn’t matter that the tiramisu is an utter fail. All that matters is that you made it with love.

And that’s the sweetest taste of all.

***

It’s been a few weeks since your salty tiramisu mishap. You and Charles laughed about it afterwards, but you were still determined to make him something special with your own two hands.

So you decided to take up crocheting. It was trickier than you expected, but you persevered, watching YouTube tutorials and getting tangled in yarn for hours.

Finally, after a month of work, you’ve produced your first wearable creation — a sweater for Charles.

It’s an oversized style, cream colored with red racing stripes across the chest. You did your best to evenly stitch the rows, but there are gaps in some places that cause the stripes to waver drunkenly.

The sleeves are several inches too long, dangling adorably over Charles’ hands when he tries it on. And the neckline gapes open no matter how he tugs it.

But none of the flaws matter to Charles. His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when you present it to him.

“You made this? For me?” He asks as he eagerly pulls it on.

You nod, suddenly shy. “I wanted to make something special for you, even if my skills are still .... developing,” you admit with an embarrassed chuckle.

But Charles is beaming, admiring himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it. This is the best gift ever!”

He engulfs you in a big hug, sleeves flopping over you. You hug him back, relieved and happy he appreciates your efforts.

From that day on, Charles insists on wearing the sweater constantly, even styling it with whatever eclectic pants he decides to wear on race weekends.

You try to discourage him — the holes along the hem are getting bigger from snagging and the neckline is truly unsalvageable.

But Charles won’t hear it. “Are you kidding? This is my new lucky charm!” He declares. “I have to wear it for every race now.”

Sure enough, he starts a winning streak whenever he dons your handmade sweater, even though it’s quite a departure from the fitted shirts and designer hoodies he previously favored, leaving his fans scratching their heads at the sudden change.

You watch in amused endearment as he proudly wears your gift for candid pre-race interviews and photo-ops. The overlong sleeves just make his exuberant gestures even more adorable.

Finally, a reporter works up the courage to ask him about the quirky sweater. “That’s quite a statement piece you have been arriving in each Sunday,” the reporter comments during a press conference. “What made you decide to wear it?”

Charles’ face lights up even more. “My sweater? It was handmade for me by my incredible girlfriend,” he announces, making you blush furiously from the audience.

“She worked so hard on it, even though crocheting is totally new to her. So I wear it to show how much I appreciate her and how talented she is,” he continues sincerely.

The reporters “aww” as Charles shows off the uneven stitches like they’re couture. “It’s my good luck charm now too! She put so much love into making it that I feel like I can’t lose whenever I have it on.”

He looks directly at you, eyes shining. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, because she made it just for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with someone so thoughtful and caring.”

You have to wipe away joyful tears at his heartfelt words. You never imagined your clumsy crocheting would come to mean so much to him.

But Charles wears that sweater for every race, no matter how tattered it gets. Because for him, it represents something priceless — your love.

***

You hum along to the radio as you stir the melted chocolate in a bowl. The rich aroma fills the air of your shared apartment. Today is Valentine’s Day and you want to surprise your boyfriend with homemade chocolate-covered strawberries when he gets home from training.

You dip the first plump, red strawberry into the silky chocolate, letting the excess drip off before placing it gently onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. One by one, you coat each strawberry, taking care to fully submerge them.

When the tray is full, you quickly pop one glistening strawberry into your mouth and slide the rest into the fridge to let the chocolate harden. As you wait, you tidy up the kitchen, washing the bowls and utensils used to make the treat. A glance at the clock on the microwave tells you Charles will be home soon.

The sound of the front door opening makes you grin. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls out.

You grab the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and head towards his voice. “Welcome home! I have a surprise for y-”

You stop short, your throat suddenly feeling scratchy and tight. Your lips tingle oddly.

Confused, you lift a hand to your neck. Is this just excitement to see Charles? But no, your tongue is starting to swell now too. Your breathing becomes labored.

Charles rounds the corner. “Mon ange, what’s wro-” His eyes widen as he takes in your distress. In a few quick strides he is by your side, the tray clattering forgotten to the floor. “What’s happening?”

You wheeze, barely able to force out words. “Can’t … breathe …”

Charles sweeps you into his arms and runs for the front door. “Hospital. Now.”

You cling to him, each ragged breath a struggle. The world seems to blur and tilt alarmingly.

Then somehow you’re in Charles’ car, speeding down the street. One of his hands grips the wheel while the other clutches yours tightly. “Just hold on, stay with me. We’re almost there.”

You try to respond but only manage a choked gurgle. Black spots swim across your vision. A feeling of detachment steals over you.

The car screeches to a stop outside the emergency department entrance. Charles lifts you from the passenger seat, calling for help. There is a flurry of activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushes over with a gurney.

You are barely aware of being wheeled into an exam room, too focused on trying to pull air into your lungs. A mask is fitted over your face, dispensing blessed oxygen. An IV is inserted into your arm.

The medical staff works quickly, asking Charles questions as they begin treatment. Antihistamines. Steroids. Epinephrine. The medications slowly start to counteract your reaction. The vice-like tightness in your chest and throat gradually lessens.

After what feels like an eternity, you are able to take full breaths again. The room comes back into focus, no longer spinning. Charles sits at your bedside, clutching your hand, his handsome face creased with worry.

The doctor examines you, nodding with satisfaction as your symptoms continue to improve. “It appears you had a severe allergic reaction. We’ll run some tests to determine the cause.”

Charles looks stricken. “But how? What could have possibly …” His gaze falls on your swollen lips. “The strawberries,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. It had to have been. You’ve never reacted to them before, but an allergy can develop at any time.

Charles smoothes back your hair, distress pouring off of him. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur. I should have been there with you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t have known. I’m okay now thanks to you.”

He just shakes his head, unconvinced.

The testing confirms it — you are now mysteriously allergic to strawberries. The doctor gives you an EpiPen prescription and strict instructions to the fruit in the future.

After several more hours of observation, you are finally discharged from the hospital with an exhausted Charles supporting you.

The sun has long since set on what was supposed to have been a romantic Valentine’s Day. Instead, you spent it swollen and terrified in the ER.

Back home, Charles tucks you into bed, insisting you rest. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror — puffy-faced and red-eyed — and cringe. Some Valentine you turned out to be.

You reach for Charles’ hand again. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening. I wanted it to be perfect but instead I ended up scaring you half to death and forcing you to rush me to the hospital.”

Charles silences you with a gentle kiss. “Not another word, mon amour. You have nothing to apologize for. All that matters is that you are safe.”

He caresses your cheek, looking at you with such love and tenderness it makes your heart ache. “You could never ruin anything. You are the light of my life — my everything. No Valentine’s Day is complete without you.”

You feel yourself tearing up. Even after the ordeal of this evening, he still looks at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re still the most beautiful Valentine I’ve ever had, you know that? A little swelling can’t hide that.” Charles brushes away your tears and pulls you close. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You nestle into his embrace, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. As you drift off, you can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are to have this man. Even at your puffiest and most distressed, he thinks you’re beautiful.

No matter what surprises life throws at you, with Charles by your side you know everything will be okay. He loves you unconditionally — swollen lips, hospital visits, and all.

***

“Close your eyes,” you say to Charles as you lead him into the living room.

He laughs and covers his eyes with his hands. “What are you up to, mon amour?”

You grin, though he cannot see it. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

You guide him across the room, hands on his shoulders. He shuffles along, peeking through his fingers.

“No peeking!” You scold, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, smiling.

You position him in front of the coffee table. “Okay,” you say. “You can open your eyes now.”

Charles drops his hands. On the table sits a large gift-wrapped box with a massive red bow on top. His eyes go wide with surprise and delight.

“For me?”

You nod, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “Happy birthday!”

He pulls you into a tight hug. “You are too good to me, ma belle. Thank you.” Leaning down, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “You don’t even know what it is yet! Open it.”

Charles grins and turns his attention to the present. He carefully unties the bow and lifts the lid on the box. Inside sits a sleek red bomber jacket with the Ferrari logo embroidered on the chest. He runs his fingers over the leather appreciatively.

“This is beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Look on the back,” you prompt.

Charles turns the jacket over. Across the back, in bold white letters, it reads: DADDY.

His eyes go wide again, and for a moment he just stands there gaping at the jacket. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a dead faint.

“Charles!” You rush to his side, kneeling next to him on the plush carpet. Gently you pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. “Charles, wake up!”

After a few tense moments, his eyelashes begin to flutter. You breathe a sigh of relief as he opens his eyes.

“Wha … what happened?” He mumbles.

“You fainted, silly.”

You help him sit up slowly. He puts a hand to his head, still looking dazed.

“I had the strangest dream …” He trails off, glancing around the room. His gaze lands on the jacket lying nearby, and his eyes widen again.

“It wasn’t a dream,” you say softly.

Charles looks at you, lips parted in shock. “Then you … you’re …”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “I’m what?”

“Pregnant!” He exclaims. “We’re having a baby!”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “What? No! I’m not pregnant!”

Charles frowns, thoroughly bewildered. “But the jacket said … I thought it was your way of telling me we’re expecting.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The jacket is for a very different reason.”

He looks almost disappointed. “It is?”

You take his hands in yours. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog for months now, ever since you met Mimi.”

Comprehension begins to dawn on Charles’s face. “So the jacket …”

“Is for our new puppy!” You finish excitedly.

Charles’ face lights up. “You got me a dog? Really?”

You nod, grinning. “Really! I picked him up yesterday from the shelter. He’s the cutest little dachshund, white with brown spots. I’ve been keeping him at your brother’s so I could surprise you today.”

Charles whoops and tackles you in another ecstatic hug. You laugh as he covers your face in rapid, smacking kisses.

“This is the best birthday surprise ever!” He crows. “I can’t believe we’re finally getting a dog. And the jacket — it’s perfect!”

He grabs the bomber and shrugs it on over his t-shirt. It fits him flawlessly, the white lettering bold against the red.

Charles scrambles to his feet and rushes to the nearest mirror, twisting this way and that to admire himself. “I love it! Thank you, thank you!”

You stand and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so glad. But you should really be thanking your new baby boy.”

Charles turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”

You grin up at him. “Hmm, I don’t recall. Feel free to remind me.”

“You …” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Are …” kiss “The …” kiss “Most …” kiss “Thoughtful …” kiss “Loving …” kiss “Girlfriend …” kiss “In …” kiss “The …” kiss “World.”

You pretend to swoon. “My, what a sweet talker you are.”

He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. When you break apart, his eyes are shining.

“So when do I get to meet our new baby?” He asks eagerly.

“Right now, if you want,” you say. “We can go pick him up from Lorenzo.”

Charles pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! I’m going to be the best dog dad ever, just you wait and see.” He crouches down and coos, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”

You pat his head playfully. “You’re a good boy.”

Taking your hand, he practically drags you out the door, babbling excitedly about names, beds, toys, and treats for the puppy the whole way to the car. Your heart swells watching his enthusiasm. You know that dog is going to be the most loved and cared for pup in the world.

When you arrive at his brother’s apartment, Charles bounds up to the front door ahead of you, unable to contain his excitement. Lorenzo opens it laughing, the wiggling brown and white puppy in his arms.

“Someone’s here to see you!” He says, handing the squirming bundle of fluff to Charles.

“Hello, hello!” Charles cuddles the puppy to his chest, his whole face alight with pure joy. The pup responds by licking every inch of Charles’ face he can reach.

Charles laughs delightedly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest boy? Yes you are!”

He looks up at you, eyes shining. “Thank you, mon cœur. This is the best gift I could have asked for.”

You lean in and scratch the puppy behind his silky ears. “Of course. Happy birthday, my love.”

As you walk back to the car, Charles cradling the puppy like a newborn, you know in your heart that your little family is one step closer to completion.

***

The race weekend after Charles’ birthday feels strange. As you wander through the Ferrari garage during free practice, Fred rushes over looking concerned.

“Here, take a seat,” the team principal says, grabbing a folding chair and positioning it behind you. “You should not be on your feet so much in your condition.”

You frown in confusion. “What condition?”

But the French man has already hurried away. Shaking your head, you continue walking. It’s a few minutes later that you spot Pierre.

“Hey!” He says, jogging up to you. Before you can react, he places both hands on your stomach and smiles brightly. “Wow, it’s hard to believe that little baby Leclerc is in there! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”

Now you’re really bewildered. You take a small step back from Pierre’s wandering hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not pregnant!”

Pierre laughs. “Very funny. You don’t have to hide it from me.” He winks and walks away.

When Charles finds you later, you’re still puzzling over the strange encounter.

“Everyone is acting so weird,” you tell him, explaining what’s been happening all day. "It’s like they all think I’m pregnant or something."

Charles frowns. “That is odd. Where would they get that idea?”

You shake your head. “I have no idea …”

Later, after the last practice session of the day, you wander into Ferrari hospitality for a quick cup of coffee. Carlos quickly spots you and makes a beeline over, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“I just saw the photos of Charles wearing his new jacket.” He says. “A mini Leclerc on the way, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both.”

“What? No, there’s no …” you start to protest, but Carlos is already walking away.

Charles comes up beside you, having overheard. “This is getting out of hand,” he mutters. “We need to clear this up.”

“I know!” You say. “I feel bad, they all seem so excited. They must think we’re hiding a pregnancy from them.”

An idea comes to you then. Turning to Charles, you say loudly, “Honey, why don’t we go introduce the baby to everyone? I know they’re all just dying to meet him!”

Charles catches on immediately, smiling slyly. “Of course! Let’s go get our little one right now.”

You nod, linking your arm through his. As you walk away, you hear gasps and murmurs behind you.

“They already had the baby? When did this happen?”

“I can’t believe they’ve been hiding it all this time!”

You have to stifle a laugh. Charles grins and squeezes your hand.

In his driver’s room, your puppy is napping contentedly on a plush dog bed. Charles scoops him up gently so as not to wake him. Cradling the pup, you both head back out to the hospitality suite.

Everyone turns to look at you eagerly as you enter. Carlos steps forward, craning his neck to see the bundle in Charles’ arms.

“Here he is!” You announce proudly. “Our baby boy!”

Charles turns so they can see the sleeping dachshund nestled against his bomber jacket. A shocked silence falls over the room.

“Wha … that’s not a baby!” Carlos splutters. “That’s a dog!”

You and Charles just shrug with matching sly smiles. “He’s our baby.”

As the puppy yawns and stretches in Charles’ arms, licking his chin affectionately, you know with certainty that your furry new addition will be showered with just as much love and adoration as you both share for one another.

Who could ask for anything more?

[archangeldyke-all]

ANGELLLL hear me out, club mom getting hit on at work🫡🫡🫡

AEWFHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

men and minors dni

the thing is, you don't even notice it's happening.

nobody comes to a strip club and to flirt with the clothed people. especially not when those clothed people are spending their evenings kicking out touchy-feely customers and cutting off heavy drinkers. you're the resident buzzkill, that's literally half of your job. you are not the main attraction here.

so, you assume this woman's just chatty, just one of those people who'll talk to anyone. you don't even remember her name, but she's been chatting casually with you all night. you know she works in the mines. you know she's here for her buddy's birthday party. you know her favorite drink is vodka sprite. she says she likes the bubbles.

you don't even consider that she's flirting with you until cherry catches your eye across the club and frowns. after so many years working in the loud-ass club, you and cherry have become experts at reading-lips. what? you mouth.

cherry rolls her eyes. don't let sevika see you.

you frown in confusion. why? she loves these pants on me.

cherry laughs then nods toward the locker room. you huff and follow after her.

"what?" you ask.

"that lady's flirting with you mom, don't be stupid."

you burst into laughter. "why the fuck would she be flirting with me?!"

"you said the same thing about sevika on her first night here, and now look at the two of you." cherry says.

you frown. "well, yeah, but i like sevika."

cherry laughs. "and she likes you too. enough to have married you. which is why you need to steer clear of flirty-pants over there. you're gonna make your wife jealous."

the idea makes you laugh, but cherry looks dead serious. you frown in contemplation, and she kisses your cheek before heading back onto the floor.

you know sevika's the most loyal wife in the world, and sevika has full faith in your loyalty to her. she has to, seeing as the other half of your job is keeping a bunch of half-naked girls happy.

plus, flirting is obvious... right? flirting is a lower lip bitten, a heavy, calculating, lingering gaze on your hands as you work. flirting is bantering until you're too busy kissing to argue, it's sparkly grey eyes wide with lust, and giggles that sound like music.

it's not chatting about beer.

you head back out to the club only to run into ms. flirty pants herself.

"oh shit! hey, i was lookin' for you." she giggles. you frown.

"is there something i can help you with?" you ask. maybe she needs help with the atm machine-- it's been on the fritz lately.

"no, no, i was just... well, i got to talkin' to that bartender bimbo about you," you frown at the description of trinity, "and she mentioned that you're into the local music scene."

your shoulders sag in relief. she's not coming onto you, she's looking for a gig. "oh, yeah, love it. sadly, we're not lookin' for any more dj's at the moment, but if we ever have an opening--"

flirty pants cuts you off with a laugh, one of her hands landing on your shoulder. your stomach sours. "no, no, not that! god, i wish i was a musician. no, i got two tickets to this battle of the bands thing happening--"

"oh." you mutter. "no thank you." you say, enunciating each word clearly as you can over the music and firmly removing her hand from your shoulder.

you brush past her, making a bee line toward the bar.

"is that bitch flirting with you?!" trinity gasps. you groan.

"relax about it, would you?"

"relax!? mom, she's trying to break you and papa sev up!"

"you're so dram-- ew, papa sev?" you groan. "that's the worst one yet."

trinity laughs and pours you a shot. "here. drink."

you down the shot and sigh. "i'm wearing my ring and everything!" you whine. "i-i'm in this frumpy, stinky sweatsuit!"

trinity laughs. "i wasn't gonna say anything--"

you roll your eyes. "it's laundry day, okay?" trinity giggles. "but you're just proving my point. i am not the person to flirt with in this building!"

"sevika did." trinity points out. you groan.

"i looked good that night and sevika..." you trail off, the liquor hitting you and a warm fondness bubbling up in your tummy at the thought of your wife. trinity groans.

"ugh, mom, keep it in your pants."

you snort and roll your eyes. "i didn't mind sevika flirting with me. i mind this. this is awkward and horrible. what do i do?"

trinity shoves another shot under your chin. "drink this and tell her to fuck off. wave the ring in her face."

you drink the shot and cringe, then pat trinity's shoulder. "are you okay? have you taken your break yet?"

she laughs and rolls her eyes. "i'm good mom. let 'er down easy, then tell 'er if she's got money i'll let 'er flirt with me allllll night." trinity says.

you snort and shake your head, turning around to do that.

flirty-pants is leering at you from across the club. you groan, roll your eyes, then march over to her.

"there you are, pretty thing. had me thinking you were runnin' from me."

"right. about that--"

"don't tell me you're fuckin' married or somethin'--" you hold your hand up to show her your ring. she sags. "oh c'mon. that shit's fake, right?"

you scoff. "what?"

"'s a fake ring you wear at work so you don't get hit on."

you blink. "n-no! what the fuck?"

"wait... you're really married?"

"yes. she is."

you cringe and turn around, your wife standing behind you and glaring daggers at poor flirty-pants. you open your mouth to explain, but sevika simply reaches out and pulls you in for a nasty kiss by the front of your frumpy sweatshirt.

you sigh against her lips, letting her hands circle your waist, her leg shoved between yours, her tongue brushing your lips. you moan against her and she hums in response, walking you back until you're pinned to the wall.

"fuck, okay, i get it. sorry." flirty-pants mutters before walking off.

you snort a bit at her words, then reach up to thread your hands through sevika's hair, tugging enough to make her growl.

eventually she pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips. you grin at her. "well, hello."

she snorts. "cherry waved me down when i got here and told me i needed to 'mark my territory.'" sevika explains. you giggle.

"i was handling it... but your way was a little more efficient."

sevika swoops in to kiss you again, much sweeter and softer this time. "hi, baby."

"hi. how was work?" you ask as you scratch her scalp. sevika purrs in your hold. you nuzzle your nose against hers.

"horrible. think we can leave the girls to fend for themselves for the rest of the night? i wanna take you home and mark my territory some more."

you cackle and kiss the tip of sevika's nose. "yeah, i think they'll be alright."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

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@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha

[mydear-corinthian]

Bait || Shelby family x reader

Synopsis: Reader went out partying and the Shelby family's enemy attacked her. Pairing: Shelby family x sister! reader Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort, reader gets injured badly, mentions of blood, stabbing, and violence, swearing Notes: rushed :C, gif is mine Click here to find the MAIN Masterlist Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS Masterlist

It was just a usual night in Small Heath. Due to the boredom, you decided to go outside and maybe have a little fun.

You dressed up. A long gold dress decorated your body. A feathered hat decorated your head. And a few pearl jewelry shined your neck, arms, and ears. Grabbing your gold colour purse, you exited your room, spiraling down the wooden stairs of your family's house.

As you went down, Polly saw you. "Where you going, love?" she asked, smiling.

Grabbing a cigarette stick, you placed it on your lips, leaning to Polly as your aunt was also about to light her long black stick of the cancerous stick. "Party, Aunt Pol. I'm getting bored staying in this house," you replied, your cigarette finally lit.

The matriarch of the family took a puff of her cigarette, her serious eyes locked on yours. 

"Where? Who's going with you?" Polly asked.

"Oh, Aunt Pol.., I'll be fine. It's just 2 streets away from here. I'll be home at 2 am."

"Take care and enjoy love," she smiled, opening the door of the house's entrance, allowing you to exit the house.

<>

The only real issue was that you were wearing heels on the short walk from the house to the party location. Warm lights and vehicles adorned the spacious mansion. The estate was packed with elegantly dressed people in suits. You headed straight to the mansion's bar as soon as you got there and ordered a drink for yourself. Your heels reverberated against the bar's porcelain tiles. Men made up the majority of the crowd, and they were all too busy chatting, drinking, and trying to find women to satisfy their lusts.

"Whiskey, please," you ordered. You sat down just in front of the barman, glancing at everyone while waiting for your drink.

There were a few faces, you knew them because of your brother, Tommy and some were rich clients from the betting shop.

Finally, the barman gently placed a glass of whiskey in front of you. "Your drink, Madam."

You thanked him, picked up the glass, and sipped, letting the alcohol wash over your mouth. After placing a couple more drink orders, you made your way to the dance floor and started to dance energetically to the loud music being played. You moved your hips in time with the song's tune. You're waving your arms in the air. As you danced with the women, the dance floor was filled with a chorus of woos and laughs. Drinks were chugged into your system in tremendous amounts.

<>

You excused yourself and your new friends to go the restroom after a few hours of nonstop drinking and dancing. You were relieved that after eating at your place for a few hours, despite having numerous drinks, you were sober. You reapplied your clothing and your cherry lipstick as you straightened your hair in front of the big mirror. It's almost two, you realize as you glance at your pocket watch. Because you're the kind of person who takes responsibility seriously, is mature, and always arrives on time, Polly wasn't concerned about you going out late to party. After gathering your belongings, you put them back into your golden handbag and head out of the bathroom.

Finally saying goodbye to your new girlfriends, your heels found their way to the mansion's exit. Since you were sober already, you decided to take a walk back home.

As you walk through the dark streets of Birmingham, you cannot help but feel uneasy. You felt like you weren't alone at all. You felt that someone or somebody was following you.

And you were right.

Reaching for your pocket gun, you tried to protect yourself from the person who was following you by looking over your shoulder. You were too late, though. You were forcefully grabbed by two men, one of whom disarmed your gun. You were trapped against the wall by two rough pairs of arms, your head hitting the rocky concrete. Particularly on your stomach, you felt something cold and sharp graze your flesh, and the pain eventually got intolerable.

"What the fuck do you want!" you panted weakly, feeling a warm liquid drip on the side of your stomach.

"Just.. sending a message to your git brother," the low Irish accent sent shivers down your spine.

Campbell.

On the other hand, Polly was at the dining table, a cigarette in her hand as she watched the clock tick.

It was already past 2 and she started to get worried. You always come home on time - not even a minute late.

Polly hurriedly went to the telephone and dialed Tommy's number, her fingers shivering.

"Hello?"

"Tommy,"

"Pol? Why are you calling at this hour?"

"I-it's (y/n). She's not home yet and I'm starting to get worried. Oh God, Tommy. What if something happened to her?" Polly stammered, holding the telephone pole tightly.

"Not at home? I'll call John and Arthur." Tommy replied before ending the call.

<>

You tried to move and get out from their touch but due to the injury that you had, you were getting weaker.

"Tell your fucking boss to fuck off!" you hollered, heaving due to the pain down your stomach.

Punches rained down on you so hard you were gasping for air and screaming in pain as two strong fists crashed into your stomach and chest. Every blow sent waves of pain through your body, causing your legs to buckle and your breath to come in short, frantic gasps. Every strike was brutal, breaking your will and power in the process.

During the cruel assault, a fresh, burning pain suddenly appeared in your abdomen. Compared to previous experiences, this feeling was sharper and stronger. Frightened, you looked down to see the sparkle of a blade pressing against your body again. The man with the knife was cautious, taking his time as he carved the initials "C.C" into your flesh. The letters were an endless source of pain and abuse burned into your mind.

Dizziness was starting to get worse and worse but you paid no mind as you built up all of your strength to get up and grab your gun that was thrown on the cold hard bricks of the dark alley. Your cold fingertips pulled the trigger, emptying the bullet chamber by shooting them non-stop.

Two bodies were now on the cold floor, both lifeless, and their blood pooling out of their bodies, mixing with the hard concrete.

"You don't fuck with the Peaky Blinders."

Taking a deep breath at what happened, you stood up but moaned in pain after you felt the cuts and bruises all over your body. Looking down at your stomach, your dress was slit and filled with your blood.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered. Leaving your bag alone and limply walked back to the house.

Every step was a painful fight and the walk seemed to go on forever. Your back was laden with weight, and the pressure turned your spine into a throbbing rod of agony. Your single shoe scraped the uneven sidewalk, causing sharp pains to shoot through your leg with each step. As you struggled to remain straight the world around you became hazy and wobbly, and your vision became less sharp at the edges. You could feel consciousness sliding away, hovering on the edge of darkness, and every breath was a strained gasp. If you returned home without passing out, you were quite lucky.

Thankfully, you did.

Your bloodied palm opened the silver-colored knob, twisting it, and opened the door with all of your might.

There Polly was, looking at you with widened eyes. She ran towards you immediately, checking up on you.

"Dear God (y/n)! What happened to you?!"

Your body became weak due to a lack of strength in your muscles. You had a really pale face. Your dress was stained and damaged by your blood, and your hair is disheveled. Your aunt's voice fades more and further, the walls in your head beginning to swirl. After that, all you could see was darkness.

Polly caught you before your head contact with the wooden floor. Your arm limped on her touch.

The whole Shelby family including Michael, arrived at the doorstep, looking at the scene in front of them with their eyes locked and widened.

"Help me out here!"

As Polly commanded, everyone went inside. Tommy, John, and Arthur carried you gently before placing you on the dinner table that was filled with glasses and plates. Tommy removed the items on the table before Arthur placed you there. Michael and Ada quickly grabbed the first aid kit that was inside the kitchen room's wooden cabinet.

When Polly teared up your dress, she gasped.

"C.C.. Fucking Campbell," Polly's voice hissed, seeing the carved initials on your stomach, bleeding harshly.

Your breaths started to get faint and weaker, your body started to get cold.

"Stay with me, (y/n)," Ada whispered between sobs as she watched Polly do something with your wounds and help her aunt hand out the supplies that she needed.

"Fuck.. Fuck!" Tommy shouted, walking in circles as he rubbed his temples harshly.

"Arthur, John, Finn, Michael, find Campbell immediately!" he ordered.

"Bring me back his fucking head."

Michael and the brothers moved quickly, their actions a blur of rage and anger. They took immediate action after realizing this. With a mixture of terror and determination, their hands trembled as they took out their firearms from their pockets. The icy steel of the weapons was comforting, a guarantee of justice for the wrongs done.

They left the home without saying anything, the wooden door slamming shut behind them with a loud crash. They were barely aware of the sharp, biting night air. Their only thought was to locate the person who was responsible for this. 

"She isn't even part of this fucking shit and yet she was targeted,"

Polly's eyes shot daggers with Tommy's blue orbs while her hands focused on healing up the wounds all over your stomach.

"You better fucking catch him, Tommy."

As soon as Polly's done patching you up, she stormed out in front of her nephew, disappointed at him.

"I'll look out for (y/n). You heard Aunt Pol, catch that bastard," Ada said, fixing up the used cotton and alcohol before throwing it out.

Tommy sighed as he exited the house. Looking for the man who did this to you.

<>

You woke up with the sunlight beaming on you. Looking at your surroundings, you noticed where you were right away.

Slowly, you tried getting up but your body fell again, moaning in pain.

"Easy, (y/n). Don't move, your wounds are still fresh," Ada said, slowly guiding your back to allow you to lie down comfortably.

"A-Ada, I was so scared... I didn't know what was going on.."

Your eyes were starting to get wet until tears were dropping down your cheeks as you recalled what happened last night.

You were so traumatized. You didn't want to remember again. 

And that time, you knew that remembering is a curse.

"You're safe now, love. We're here now," Polly said, her arms locked with yours, giving you a comforting smile.

The door opened, and your brothers were there.

They immediately greeted you and asked how you were.

"God, love. I'm sorry that happened to you," your oldest brother, Arthur, said, gently combing your hair with his rough fingertips.

"It's okay, Arthur. I'm fine now,"

"We got him already," Finn remarked.

The gang leader showed up, his coat hanging on the chair. His footsteps echoed in the room as he approached you, placing his palms on your head.

"How are you now?" he asked, sighing.

"Fucking scared, Tom. I nearly died! This is fucked up."

"I know, (y/n). I know."

Polly stood up in the middle of the small argument, shutting the both of you. Her fists curl up like a ball, her brows knit together.

"Let her rest first, Tom. She had enough already," she said.

"I'm sorry," he apologized softly before exiting the house.

Tommy felt simply anger and guilt. Even though his sister isn't involved in the business, she was the one targeted. She's currently in there getting better from the physical and emotional trauma she recently went through.

"You're safe now, love." Polly gave you a comforting smile before asking the other Shelby siblings for breakfast. 

"Thank you, Aunt Pol."

[infictionalwonderland]

Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?

. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!

part 2 / part 3

Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.

So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.

‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.

Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.

Surely this was an exaggeration.

The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.

The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.

“How do you feel about your costume?”

Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”

The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.

With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.

The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.

He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.

“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”

“SEBA—“

“Cut!”

The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.

“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”

“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.

You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.

“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”

“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.

“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.

The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)

Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”

Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”

“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.

Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.

Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”

“But—“

“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.

Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)

“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.

The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.

“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.

“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.

“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”

Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.

The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.

“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.

“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.

“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”

“I—“

“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.

The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.

“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.

“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.

The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.

“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”

McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.

“This is getting juicy!”

“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“

“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.

Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”

“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.

The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.

He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.

“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”

By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.

“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.

In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.

The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.

“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”

Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”

Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.

The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.

“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”

“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.

“CHRI—“

In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.

“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.

“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.

“I concur.” You grinned back.

The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.

“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”

“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.

You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.

The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.

Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.

The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.

“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.

“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.

The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.

“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”

“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.

“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.

“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.

“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.

There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰

[buggachat]

ART BY @mari-cherri (@mari-monsta) THANK U SO MUCH MARI MUAH

I posted a new fic!

I (Wish I) Knew You

49k words, 10 chapters, COMPLETE

LadyNoir, aged-up, hurt/comfort, (please check the tags for possible triggers, etc)

University has been hard on Marinette. Making new friends and maintaining her grades is a lot easier said than done when she has to disappear at odd times to fight akumas. She's struggling, and with Alya away with family and Adrien painfully out of reach, she's never felt lonelier. If only she could talk to someone who really understood her struggles... but it's not like Chat Noir would know anything about loneliness. Right?

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen

Part Two

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o

Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!

Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Part One

Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach. 

His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.

It was always on your mind. Always. 

Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.  

And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger. 

Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.

You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job. 

Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand. 

If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all. 

Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another. 

On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly. 

Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.

You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.

The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”

Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough. 

Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know. 

“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read. 

Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that. 

But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you. 

Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you. 

Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking. 

“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there. 

Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch. 

Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose. 

If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw. 

There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy. 

He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine. 

No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince. 

A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him. 

But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage. 

Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing. 

The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue. 

When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin. 

Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.” 

“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”

You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”

It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did. 

But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you. 

You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.

So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt. 

A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago. 

He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm. 

One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that. 

Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide. 

Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance. 

And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.

For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression. 

“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”

With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless. 

Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice. 

There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption. 

“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”

You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye. 

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”

Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong. 

Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger. 

You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”

The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.

Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all. 

Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there. 

But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat. 

“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”

Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist. 

“My prince-”

“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”

The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating. 

You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”

If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned. 

There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived. 

So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it. 

“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”

Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.” 

And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome. 

A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you. 

The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut. 

You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced. 

Footsteps. Again. 

Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck. 

It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was. 

So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard.  Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers. 

You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.

Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you. 

If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing. 

But what else had you expected?

This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head. 

Gods, you had never known anything like it. 

Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist. 

You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery. 

Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him. 

For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in? 

Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.  

Like things were going exactly how he had planned. 

Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much. 

The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear. 

And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn. 

Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along? 

It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s? 

You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.

Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.  

He wanted you to see. 

Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play. 

Sleep did not come easy that night. 

 

You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place. 

The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day. 

For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.

Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.

It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman. 

There was none. Not a single strand of hair. 

You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him. 

“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”

You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”

Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava. 

He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing. 

The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”

“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”

Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”

“I did not think you cared to take note.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”

Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”

“I do not.”

You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”

“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”

“Answer my question, Aemond.”

“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–���

“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”

The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”

Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat. 

“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”

“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw. 

There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”

“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”

Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time. 

The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck. 

When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach. 

You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”

“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.” 

For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”

“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”

You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs. 

The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips. 

Lavender, leather and him. 

“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”

Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view. 

His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”

“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable.  “You should not have indulged in that whore.”

Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.

You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh. 

It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him. 

You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.

There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”

A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter. 

You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.

“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.” 

Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?” 

You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”

Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”

“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”

“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”

You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”

“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”

Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap. 

Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure. 

You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.

“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”

“Gods, no–do not sto-”

Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter. 

“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”

“No.” 

It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.   

Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan. 

You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad. 

“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor. 

Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline. 

“You would not dare,” he all but growled. 

“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?” 

Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”

“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”

There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile. 

[yungistiny]

GAMEBOY ═ chapter six

[ J. Yunho ]

chapter six: does he know?

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summary: yunho has no idea that his neighbor across the hall, the same one he’s had a crush on, was his arch nemesis behind a headset

warning: dom yunho, bratty/sub reader, slight orgothumophilia, masturbation, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, degradation, overstimulation, oral, sexting, more will be added

pairing: gamer yunho x gamer afab reader

genre: smut, romance, angst, drama

word count: 3k

chapter five

chapter seven coming soon

masterlist

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Yunho stood frozen, the apartment door clicking shut behind Wooyoung and Y/N as they disappeared across the hall. The only sounds left in the room were his own shallow breaths and the unbearable silence radiating from the couch where his parents were seated. Fuck.

His mother gave him a once over, arms folded neatly in front of her, her expression unreadable but her raised brow said plenty. “Well,” she said, adjusting the strap of her purse. “That was quite the welcome.”

Yunho cleared his throat, cheeks still flushed. “I didn’t know you were coming.” His dad leaned back casually, legs crossed, looking entirely too relaxed for the situation. “That was obvious.”

“I… we weren’t expecting anyone,” Yunho mumbled, brushing a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to appear more put together. His shirt was rumpled, his belt askew, and he was pretty sure Y/N’s lip balm was still smeared across his lips, taste of cherry.

“We knocked,” his mom replied coolly. “Several times. Wooyoung let us in, said you were out and we could make ourselves at home. So we did. And then we got a front row seat to that.”

Yunho turned toward the wall, smacking his forehead lightly against it. “Oh my god.” His dad chuckled under his breath. “Well, at least now we know why you mysteriously lost signal earlier this morning when we tried to tell you we were coming by.”

“Dad,” Yunho hissed, mortified.

His mother stood slowly, brushing imaginary lint from her skirt. “That was your neighbor, wasn’t it? Y/N?” Yunho nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“She’s cute,” his mom said. “Smart, too. That the same girl who helped carry in groceries when we visited last month?”

“Yeah,” Yunho said weakly.

“She’s got a nice energy about her,” his dad added, standing up as well. “Though we could’ve done without the… visual confirmation of how close you two have gotten.”

Yunho whirled around. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Alright, alright.” His dad threw his hands up in surrender. “But, hey, your mom was just saying how we were beginning to worry you’d never date again after the last one. And here you are, practically in the middle of a live demonstration.”

Yunho groaned. “I’m going to die. This is it. Death by parental embarrassment.” His mom smirked. “If it makes you feel better, we didn’t see anything explicit.”

“That doesn’t help!” Yunho exclaimed. Fuck his life. There was a long, awkward beat before his mom’s expression softened, her voice quieter. “She makes you happy?”

Yunho blinked, the question catching him off guard. “Yeah,” he admitted. “She does.” His mom nodded. “Then we’ll try to forget what we walked in on. For both our sakes.”

Yunho let out a shaky breath of relief. “Thanks.” His dad was already halfway to the door. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go. We’ve done enough damage.”

His mom paused at the threshold, turning back to her son with a meaningful look. “I brought you some homemade meals, you Wooyoung are going to give yourselves high cholesterol eating out all the time. Also, next time, just give us a heads up. Or at the very least, lock the door.”

The door clicked shut behind them, and Yunho stood there in the quiet for a long moment.

Then he muttered, “I’m never recovering from this.”

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Yunho adjusted his headset and leaned back in his gaming chair, eyes flicking to the chat flooding in. Viewers already spiraling from the countdown screen, they would be playing a newer game tonight, most of the comments asking if Juniper would be joining?

It had been over a week since her last stream with him, since that night, and his chat had noticed. But tonight, she’d finally said yes. And Yunho? Yunho was ready to play.

The screen shifted as he switched over to gameplay, camera overlay catching the way he subtly rolled his shoulders and grinned “Alright,” he drawled smoothly into his headset. “We’re doing duos tonight. And someone is finally back after ghosting us.”

The second voice came through his headset with a teasing lilt. “You make it sound like I abandoned you.”Yunho’s pulse picked up at the sound. Even distorted slightly through the mic filter, he could hear her in it. That familiar sweetness, the sharp little bite of flirtation under every word. Y/N. Juniper. The same.

“You did abandon me,” he said, voice dripping mock offense. “I was left to carry our whole team while you were off… what? Working on your little solo streams? Too famous for me now?” He teased.

Juniper laughed, and god, it sounded like music in his ears. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m here now, aren’t I?” She teased him right back.

“You are.” Yunho smirked, keeping his tone casual even though his thoughts were anything but. “And it’s a good thing too, because I’ve been itching to destroy you.” In more ways than one.

“Oh? Confident today, are we?”

Yunho leaned into the mic, voice low and smooth. “You bring it out in me.” He saw the way she froze on her end, watching her, what bit of her she allowed to be seen, on her stream, a blip of silence on her end, just for a second. Just long enough to let him know he hit the mark.

Juniper coughed, clearly trying to shake it off. “You always talk this much when you’re about to get your ass beat?”

Yunho laughed, letting his fingers fly over his keyboard. “Nah. Just when I’m excited.” Another pause. Another twitch of silence. He wondered if her cheeks were as red as they were at the restaurant earlier when he messaged her mid lunch?

They dropped into the game. Their dynamic was just like before, banter sharp, sniping clean, chemistry blinding. Yunho watched her player dodge an ambush and back him up with practiced ease.

“You still got it,” he said.

“Did you doubt me?” she replied, smug.

He smirked at the screen, dropping a med kit near her. “Never.”

A beat passed before her voice came back through, quieter this time. “Missed this.” She didn’t mean to say that out loud, because it wasn’t Juniper that missed streaming with Yunho, it was all y/n.

Yunho didn’t hesitate to answer her back though. “Me too.”

The tension shifted slightly, less teasing, more charged. The kind that made even the chat slow down, sensing something real threading beneath the surface.

Yunho knew it now. Knew exactly who she was. And she had no idea. But he wasn’t going to tell her yet. No, he was going to push. See how far she’d let this go without realizing just how close he already was.

Because Juniper wasn’t just some flirty voice behind a screen. She was Y/N. His friend. His neighbor. The girl he’s, like Wooyoung said, pathetically in love with.

And he’d already had her trembling in his hands.

San’s voice cracked through the stream as himself and Jongho joined. “Took you guys long enough to get the party going.”

���Glad you could join us, finally,” Juniper quipped sarcastically.

“I was busy baking,” San replied, smug. Wooyoung’s strawberry cheesecake was moan worthy. “Domestic king hours.”

Jongho’s voice chimed in next. “And I was busy soloing squads because no one waited for me. Again.”

“You make that sound like a complaint,” Yunho said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“It is a complaint.”

Juniper snorted. “Aww. Poor baby.” She teased.

Jongho groaned. “I already regret logging on.”

“Hey,” Yunho cut in smoothly, tone casual, maybe a little too casual. “Juniper, ever get recognized in public?”

There was a pause. Yunho smirked.

San instantly stopped looting. “What?.”

“What?” Yunho repeated innocently, his grin audible.

“Uh…” Juniper hesitated, covering the split second panic with a laugh. “Not really. Why? Planning to stalk me?”

Yunho hummed thoughtfully, cocking his head as if he were deep in thought. “You’ve just got a… really familiar voice lately I’ve noticed.”

Another pause. San audibly inhaled.

Jongho completely oblivious. “She does, right? I said that the first time she streamed with us! She sounds kinda like…. what’s her name… that girl from the party stream?”

Juniper recovered quickly. “Don’t tell me I sound like every other streamer girl you simp for.”

Yunho smirked, voice low, teasing. “No. You don’t sound like anyone else.”

San coughed loudly. “Okay, alright, we’re doing this now?” Did Yunho know?

“Doing what?” Yunho asked, all wide eyed sarcasm and false innocence.

“Whatever… this weird… flirting thing is.” San deadpanned, though he was secretly sweating. Yunho knew. He had to. But San didn’t dare speak up, y/n would kill him if he blew it.

Jongho chuckled. “Wait, is this why the chat keeps saying ‘just kiss already’? I thought that was about San and Woo.”

“Excuse me?” San nearly choked.

Yunho bit back a laugh. “Anyway. Juniper, have we met before?” He kept pushing. There was a beat of silence.

“Not unless you’ve been sneaking into my dreams.” Juniper’s voice teased with a bit of nervousness laced in her voice.

San rubbed his temples, whispering under his breath, “Yunho, I swear to god…”

Jongho was still catching up. “What’s happening? Am I the only one not in on the joke?”

Y/N kept her voice steady, barely. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot of questions tonight, Yunho.” What was he doing? Why was he digging so much?

“Just curious,” Yunho replied, shooting down an enemy with ease. “You’re just full of surprises lately. Like now, you’re not being a pain in my ass.”

“Maybe I got laid,” she shot back.

Yunho choked on air, eyes widening.

San immediately muted his mic, dying.

Jongho blinked. “Did she just….”

“Yeah, she did,” Yunho muttered, trying not to let the laughter in his chest turn into something else. Like a moan. He was fully aware she had gotten laid. He cleared his throat. “Must’ve been a hell of a guy.”

Juniper replied back so smugly. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Oh, he did know. He knew exactly what kind of sounds she made. What she tasted like. What her thighs felt like clenched around him.

But she didn’t know that he knew.

Yet.

San unmuted with a brittle laugh. “Soooo… we winning or flirting our way to death?”

“Why not both?” Juniper replied easily.

Jongho, still confused, groaned. “Someone please tell me what the hell is happening.” Yunho smirked. “Just trying to get to know my teammates better.” He heard the slight stutter in Juniper’s, y/n, breath, that moment of hesitation.

It was working.

She was cracking.

And he was far from done.

As the game lobby emptied and the stream ended, banner flashing across the screen, Yunho leaned back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders easing.

“Alright, I’m out,” Jongho said through his headset already halfway gone. “Night,” San muttered, not bothering to hide his relief as he logged off next. He needed to go scream into a pillow before Y/N found out Yunho was definitely onto her.

Juniper’s mic crackled. “See you guys next time.” Her voice was steady, but Yunho caught the slight rasp, like her throat was dry, like she was nervous. He waited until everyone left before reaching for his phone.

Yunho: You sounded real good tonight

He watched the three dots blink.

Juniper: On stream? Or just in general?

Yunho smirked, thumbs moving quickly.

Yunho: both but I meant your voice there’s something familiar about it

A longer pause this time.

He pictured her sitting cross legged in that chair with her mic tilted just right, trying not to squirm, probably chewing the inside of her cheek like she always did when she was overthinking.

Juniper: You’re gonna make me think you have a voice kink

Yunho: would that be a bad thing? you’ve been in my ears all night can’t help it

He didn’t send the next message right away. He typed it. Deleted it. Typed it again.

Yunho: what if I said I’ve heard you before? outside the stream?

Her reply didn’t come right away. Yunho could practically feel her heart rate picking up through the silence.

Juniper: Have you?

He didn’t answer. Not yet. He wanted to see what she’d do with the uncertainty. Wanted her to sweat the same way she made him sweat on stream with every innuendo, every snarky little comeback.

Yunho: I guess the real question is… what would you do if I have?

He hit send and set his phone down, watching the screen go dark.

If she thought the game was over, she was wrong.

It was just getting started.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Y/N stared at her phone like it had personally threatened her. She was still in her gaming chair, headset hanging around her neck, the glow of her monitors casting a mix of moody purples and blues across her bedroom. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.

what if I said I’ve heard you before?

outside the stream?

Yunho’s message haunted the screen like a curse. Her mind scrambled, flipping through every memory of their streams together, every private moment since that night a week ago when she and Yunho had ended up tangled in his sheets after one too many drinks, his mouth on her skin, his hands gripping her thighs, her name a low growl in the dark.

He couldn’t know. He couldn’t possibly know.

Her setup was locked down, camera angle safe, backdrop nothing more than her bed. He’d never seen her room.

He couldn’t know.

Which left only one thing.

Her voice.

“Oh god,” she whispered, frozen. “My voice!”

“San?” Her voice cracked with panic as she called out. Right on cue, San pushed her door open, already in pajama shorts and a hoodie, holding a plate with a slice of Wooyoung’s strawberry cheesecake.

She held up her phone, and San read the message. “Okay, well…..” he didn’t want her to freak out so San decided not to voice his own concerns about Yunho possibly knowing.

“And then he just stopped. He hasn’t messaged again. I think I’m gonna throw up.” Y/N felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack.

San leaned against her doorframe, tilting his head. “You don’t think he’s, like… actually figured it out?”

“I don’t know.” She stood and started pacing. “He was saying weird things on stream, kept trying to trip me up, like he was fishing. Then he drops that message and disappears?” She spun around. “He’s never seen my room, right? He hasn’t. I’ve made sure.”

San shrugged. “Unless you live streamed a house tour I missed, no. He’s never been in here.”

“So it has to be my voice.” She dropped onto the edge of her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest. “And now he’s ghosting. Just… leaving me here to spiral.”

San was quiet for a second before saying, “Okay, but hear me out, if Yunho really knows you’re Juniper and I mean knows, then he’s not just gonna tease you.”

Y/N lifted her head slowly. “Why not?”

San gave her a pointed look. “Because you didn’t tell him. And you’ve been flirting with him as Juniper and you literally slept with him. Then avoided him like he had the plague for a whole week.”

She winced. “I was freaked out.”

“I know,” he said. “But come on. You finally talked about it. It’s not nothing.” San sat down next to her, voice softened. “So if he figured it out and realized you’ve been hiding this whole other side of yourself, this huge thing, from him…”

Her stomach twisted again. “I didn’t mean to lie,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I know,” San replied. “But it doesn’t mean it won’t feel like one.”

Y/N’s phone buzzed again.

She snatched it up with a racing pulse. But it wasn’t Yunho, just a discord notification. She set it back down with a sigh and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

The worst part wasn’t the waiting.

It was not knowing if Yunho was sitting across the hall right now, pissed off that she’d played him.

Or worse…

Heartbroken that she hadn’t trusted him.

Y/N waited until San left back to his own room before grabbing her phone again, chewing at her bottom lip as her fingers hovered over the keyboard after opening back up her DMs.

Juniper: what do you mean my voice sounds familiar

She stared at it for a second before hitting send, her heart already thudding like a drumroll. The reply didn’t come immediately. She refreshed twice, even checked her internet like it might’ve betrayed her, and finally….

Yunho: maybe I just heard you collab with someone before San brought you in

She blinked at the screen.

Oh, he was playing games.

Juniper: i’ve done a few, you really think you’ve heard me?

Yunho: maybe your voice just reminds of someone

She could see the smirk behind that message. She narrowed her eyes at her screen.

Juniper: who?

Yunho: wouldn’t you like to know

She rolled her eyes but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips despite the anxiety still curling in her stomach.

Juniper: damn guess you’ll have to keep guessing maybe i just have one of those voices

Yunho: maybe or maybe i’m just really good at figuring people out

Her heart stuttered at that. The double meaning was right there, just buried enough to be brushed off, just obvious enough to feel deliberate. Was he just flirting? Or was he digging?

Or worse, was he already sure and testing how far she’d go to keep pretending?

Her fingers hovered again.

Juniper: why do i seem familiar now?

Yunho: I guess you always have

Y/N swallowed hard, stomach twisting. There was no way he didn’t know. Not with how he was wording things. But he wasn’t confronting her either. No accusations. No direct questions.

Just a slow, steady unravel.

And the scariest part?

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep hiding or if she wanted him to catch her.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ateezswonderland @therealcuppicake @aerangi @delulu4yuyu @hyuninslutbbgirl @fireseo @insanityz @kyeos4ng @fvxyxnh0 @jintastic-yuyu @beccaskz @roxhanah @heartsforyeoo @prchiquita8

[nandysparadox]

What might be some nicknames Ari’s friends call her?

Oh and what does she eat?! More bugs for protein?

ari is a nickname actually! :D her full name is ariana, but especifically her friend june calls her riri 💖

due to being humanoid she eats more regular food but yeah she also eat bugs. but more like. at a snack frequency yknow?

[forsworned]

I just got a great idea. Imagine the teenage dirt bag trend with 141, where reader is chill and laid back, and as 141 and reader are in the break room, gaz or soap ask reader about her life before the military and she just goes to her office to get some photos of her and her friends in their teens, smoking weed and in some she has some sick piercings and a skater, or maybe even a motorcycle. I don't even know. I'm just rambling. You can write it if you want but if you don't want to then feel free to ignore me 🫶🏼🙆🏻‍♀️

author's note: and a great idea you have indeed :) i gotchuuu and im so sorry this took me forever to get to

tags: poly 141 antics, cheeky banter, and a lil flirting with the boys ;)

Breakfast is a fan favorite amongst the 141, especially when it involves the sweet and savory aroma of coffee, pancakes, eggs, and your famous potato hash—a dish that's practically a cult fave within the team. As you settle in your seat between Johnny and Kyle with your coffee mug in your hand, the group is chatting about their former glory days before they joined the military.

Johnny nudges you with a playful smirk, still noshing on a piece of toast. "So, hen, ye look like ye had a bit of a wild streak back in the day, aye? Bet ye were a right wee devil." His tone is teasing, laced with curiosity as his cerulean gaze lingers on you.

You roll your eyes at him, but before you can respond, Kyle chimes in, his tone equally teasing, "Yeah, you look like the type who got up to all sorts of dodgy stuff. Proper troublemaker, I reckon. C'mon love, spill the beans." He nudges with a grin.

Price looks over his newspaper at double trouble across the table, before turning the page, causing you to chuckle. "Well," you fish out your phone from your pocket and everyone leans forward in their seats as you scroll through your camera roll. You stop at an album and tap on it before rotating the screen to face them and they can't help the excited noises that leave their mouths.

"No way!" Johnny exclaims, his grin widens as he spots a photo of you leaning against a cherry red muscle car. "Is that a 1967 Chevrolet Camaro!?" Kyle chirps, taking your phone from you and you laugh at their reactions. That gets Price's attention and he leans over to get a gander of the rebellious glint in your eye and the streaks of red fashioned into your hair.

"Christ," He beams down at the photo and then up at you. "looks like you were quite the rebel, eh? No wonder these two pillocks won't stop botherin' ya."

Kyle lets out a whistle as he swipes to the next photo, showcasing you with a cigarette hanging between your lips, clad in a skimpy bikini, leaning against your palms on a beach on a sunlit beach with the sunset casting a tangerine glow. "Cheeky."

Johnny's eyes ream at the photo, taking you in your exposed form. "Aye, look at ye!" His cheeks flush as he tilts his head, peeking up at you. "I gotta give it ya, lassie, yer quite the stunner."

"And still are." Price adds, raising his eyebrows at you. You fluster at his kind words, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Thank you,"

"Oi! Look at this one!" Johnny points to the screen again, having a good laugh. You lean into Kyle and giggle at the photo. Grin as wide as your face with an alligator's jaw clamped shut between your hands. "That cannot be real!"

"It's really not as wild as it looks. I was on vacation in Florida, and a local wildlife park had this little show where they let you hold and pose with a baby alligator. They made sure everything was safe and supervised. Super fun."

Price cocks an amused brow at you, sipping his coffee. "Baby alligator, eh? You're quite the thrill seeker."

"Yeahhh, not much has changed." Kyle ribs and the others laugh. It's true though. You were actively pursuing that adrenaline rush, so it didn't come as much of a surprise to them, especially not Simon.

As the laughter dies down, Simon, who was quietly enjoying his tea and observing the situation unfold finally speaks up, "You lot are gettin' too chuffed over this, but I gotta admit..." He leans back, his dark eyes fixate on you and you can't help but take notice of how his mask is scrunched up under his nose, revealing the pale pink of his lips. "Never quite pegged you for a lil rascal. Bet you gave your folks a right headache."

He prods the phone out of Johnny's hand and takes a look at the other photos they were scrolling through and softly snorting at what looks like an image of you on stage, strumming at a guitar and singing your heart out. "But I reckon that's what makes you fit in so will with these bunch of nutters." His lips quirk into a faint smile as he hands you back your phone and goes back to munching on his eggs. "Ain't it always the quiet ones you gotta watch out for?"

Your cheeks blossom with warmth at his comment and the cute little smile that adorns his handsome face. "Well, I didn't think I was all that quiet." You poke your tongue in your cheek, gently prying the phone out of his hands.

His finger seems to biff at your screen as it clatters out of your grasp because his onyx eyes widen at the photo. Skin exposed, revealing the ink that embellishes your lower left hip in delicate, intricate patterns as you're posing sexy for the camera. Your heart plunges to your ass at the realization of it not being in your hidden album.

"Oh—that's, uhhh" You stammer swiftly, locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket. Your tongue swipes at your lips as you avert your gaze, but Simon takes note of how you nervously twiddle with the spoon as it clatters against the walls of your mug.

Simon's eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he returns to his tea, "well, well, well..."

The rest of the team is still buzzing with the excitement of your heydays as they detect the slight change in atmosphere.

"Oi, what's all of this about, then?" Johnny asks with a mouth full of food. "Give us the scoop!"

But the Scotsman is getting scolded by Price and Kyle for not keeping his mouth shut while he eats. A sheepish smile adorns his lips, rubbing the back of his neck as he apologizes. Simon chuckles, and shakes his head, "Nothin' worth spillin', Johnny. Just a bit of a laugh."

Of course that earns some groans from them, but you can't help but bite your bottom lip and grin when Simon gives you a knowing look. Some secrets are best kept between friends.

masterlist

[yourmomsawh0r3]

long time no see

pairing: tyler owen’s x fem! reader

summary: Tyler Owens reunites with his childhood love, Y/N, at a rodeo, protecting her from a EF5 tornado

Tyler Owens had loved Y/N since grade school when he used to pull on her pigtails and tease her relentlessly. Now, years later, fate brought them together again at the local rodeo. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement, but Tyler couldn't focus on anything other than Y/N. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered, her long hair blowing in the wind, freckles dotting her face, and cute dimples appearing when she smiled.

Gathering his courage, Tyler walked up to her, his heart pounding in his chest. "Hey, Y/N," he called out, a grin spreading across his face.

She turned to him, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, oh my god, Tyler? I haven’t seen you in ages!" She gave him a big hug, her familiar scent of cherries filling his senses and bringing back a rush of memories.

They both asked simultaneously, "How are you doing?" and then laughed together, saying in unison, "You go first."

Tyler chuckled, his eyes sparkling with joy. "You first, Y/N. It's been way too long."

As they chatted and caught up, the sky began to darken ominously. The familiar wail of tornado sirens cut through the air, sending a wave of panic through the crowd. People started to scatter, heading for the nearest shelters. Tyler's eyes scanned the chaos, searching desperately for Y/N.

Suddenly, he spotted her. She was helping an older lady who had been pushed down in the rush. Tyler’s heart pounded as he pushed through the crowd toward her. "Y/N!" he shouted over the noise. "Are You crazy?! We need to get to the shelter!"

Y/N looked up, relief washing over her face at the sight of him. She helped the older woman to her feet, and once the woman was safely on her way, Tyler grabbed Y/N's hand, pulling her toward the nearest shelter. They ran together, hand in hand, through the storm's fury.

Inside the shelter, they found a seat in the far back. The sound of the wind howling outside was deafening, and the roof began to lift under the sheer force of the storm. Tyler didn't hesitate; he towered his body over Y/N, shielding her from the flying debris.

After what felt like an eternity, the storm passed. The shelter door creaked open, revealing a world turned upside down by the tornado. Y/N looked up at Tyler, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you for saving me," she whispered.

Tyler's phone buzzed with an alert from his crew. His face grew serious as he read the message. "An EF4 made landfall in Topeka, Kansas," he said, his voice tight.

Y/N's eyes widened in horror. "My momma and daddy! I gotta go. They live there, on the same farm since I was a little girl."

Tyler grabbed her hand again, determination in his eyes. "Come with me. We'll check on them together."

They hurried to Tyler's truck, the devastation around them a stark reminder of the storm's power. The drive to Topeka was tense, the sky still dark with lingering clouds. Tyler kept a firm grip on the wheel, his other hand holding Y/N's for reassurance.

When they arrived at Y/N's family farm, the sight that greeted them was both heartbreaking and relieving. The farmhouse was damaged but still standing. Y/N's parents emerged from the house, shaken but unharmed.

"Momma! Daddy!" Y/N cried, rushing into their arms. Tears of relief streamed down her face.

Tyler stood back, watching the reunion with a soft smile. He had always cared for Y/N, and seeing her safe and happy filled him with a deep sense of contentment.

Suddenly, Y/N remembered something crucial. "Moose!" she exclaimed, panic rising in her voice. "Where's Moose?"

Her parents' faces fell, and her mother spoke, her voice trembling. "He was in the house when the storm hit. We couldn't get to him in time."

Without hesitation, Y/N broke away from her parents and ran towards the partially collapsed house. "Y/N, wait!" Tyler shouted, but she didn't stop.

"It's too dangerous!" he called out, running after her.

Y/N ignored him, her heart pounding with fear for her beloved chocolate lab. She carefully navigated the debris, calling out for Moose. She finally found him, trembling and stuck under a fallen beam but otherwise unharmed. "Moose, come here, boy!" she coaxed gently, freeing him and scooping him up in her arms.

Holding Moose like a baby on her hip, Y/N made her way out of the house. Just as she stepped outside, the rest of the house gave way, collapsing entirely. Tyler's heart nearly stopped as he watched the house crumble behind her.

He ran to her, his face a mask of anxiety and relief. "You scared me half to death," he said, grabbing her face with both hands. His eyes searched hers, filled with worry. "Don't ever do that again."

Y/N's breath hitched, and she nodded, tears of relief streaming down her face as Moose licked her cheek. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't leave him."

Tyler pulled her into a tight embrace, careful of Moose between them. "I know," he murmured into her hair. "Just promise me you'll be careful. I don't want to lose you."

Y/N nodded against his chest, feeling the safety and warmth of his arms around her. "I promise," she whispered back.

As they stood there, the storm's aftermath fading into the background, it was clear that their bond had only grown stronger. And with Moose safely in her arms and Tyler by her side, Y/N knew she could face anything that came their way.

Tyler pulled back slightly, looking deeply into her eyes. "Y/N, I've waited a long time to tell you this," he said softly. "I've loved you since we were kids, since the days I pulled on your pigtails just to get your attention."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words. "Tyler, I..."

He gently placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. "I want to do this right," he said. "Will you go on a date with me?"

A smile broke across Y/N's face, and she nodded. "Yes, Tyler. I'd love that."

Relief and joy washed over Tyler as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender, special kiss. It was a promise of a new beginning.

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter- Loss of virginity, cunnilingus, blow jobs, rough oral sex, overstimulation, face slapping.- Reader's virginity leaves the chat

ꕥ Word Count- 7,422

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip. You just gotta hope your dad doesn't find out.

Chapter 3 Masterlist Playlist

Chapter 4

“Morning, Princess.” Your dad greets you as you yawn, walking out to the kitchen, following the scent of pancakes and bacon. You smile as you see Mei is there along with Toji, but when your eyes hit him?

Pussy throbs.

Jesus christ.

He grins, then licks that scar, crossing his arms and looking ridiculously attractive in nothing but a pair of gray sweats. You can see the outline of him, see his perfect, ridiculously toned body. Everything about him makes you damn near drool, and you’re stuck there staring for a moment.

“You good, doll?” Toji drawls out those words, and you shake it off, glaring. He smirks.

“I’m fine, old man. Morning Mei, morning dad!”

“Why do I get the angry little greeting? Mean little brat.” You just shove at his stupidly hard body, coming to hug your dad then. He kisses your head, smiling.

“She’s feisty, is all.” Shiu says, and you stick your tongue out at Toji then, making him ruffle your hair.

“Angry little elf.”

“Elf, really!”

Shiu and Mei are laughing, then your Dad makes you a plate. “Thanks, Dad, ugh looks so yummy.”

You sit down, and unfortunately Toji sits next to you, and god if you can’t just smell his scent… all masculine and a little sweaty, but it’s hitting some spot in your ovaries that hurts. You throb around nothing, uncomfortable, as you try to focus, pouring syrup on your pancakes then.

“Hey, darling, I brought a bikini that should fit.” Mei says then, nibbling on a bite elegantly. She was so elegant and you’re… what, an elf? Fucking Toji.

“Oh my god, lifesaver. Thank you Mei!” She grins, tossing her silky braids back over her shoulders.

“Of course, love. I put it up in the bathroom. Your dad brought up wanting to do a beach day.” 

“That sounds fun! For sure.”

“Kiddo can’t swim though. She may get swept away.” You kick Toji under the table, and he winces, scowling. “What!”

“It’s a shallow beach mostly, she’ll be fine.” Shiu takes a bite, leaning closer to Mei then, and they seem very familiar.

Huh.

It’s kind of nice, since your mother hasn’t been around and Shiu had been so upset for so long about it.

Toji’s big fucking hand is now resting on your thigh under the table, and you hesitate, pausing forking another bite in your mouth, staring at him. He’s nibbling on a piece of bacon, smirking at you, brushing a thumb down your soft inner thigh, making you look around nervously.

His touch hits you stupidly hard, tummy clenching with desire already waving over you. It’s hidden under the tablecloth, but it feels so wrong, well more wrong than it already was. You struggle to keep any composure as he slides up more, acting so casual, leaning a little closer to you, whispering in your ear.

“So hot between them thighs, doll. All f’me?” You glare, and thank God Mei and Shiu were talking loudly, heading back into the kitchen.

“Shut up, wanna get caught?” He slides his hand up even more, until his hand cups your pussy over your shorts, and he exhales, those dark green eyes glazing over with desire.

“You want it, don’t ya?” You shake your head, so he laughs a bit, quietly, then rubs you there. You close your legs, but it doesn’t help, when he’s slid your shorts to the side and rubs you between your lips. You inhale sharply, looking at him with wide eyes, shaking your head, and he just grins.

“Stop it, Toji, the fuck...” He’s grinning wider, finding your clit and rubbing in a little circle with that calloused finger, all while you try to keep it together, growing flushed and overheated.

“So wet f’me too, mmm.” You take a deep breath, trying to calm down as you chew the mouthful of food, and you lean back, pressing your back into the chair, trying to get away from his hand.

But Toji just slides chair closer, his thumb pressing harder on your clit now, and a thick finger sliding in your soppy little cunt. Your dad and Mei are still in the kitchen, and thankfully they’re playing music, but you’re acutely aware of them, your heart racing at the risk of being caught.

Toji seems unfazed completely, amused in fact, his eyes never leaving your face as he expertly plays with you, the tension building up, making you throb around him, soaking his hand. “Toji, I’m gonna...” You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to keep your voice low, but you’re so close you can’t take it, and you have no clue how to keep quiet.

“Act all shy and innocent, like a good girl.” He whispers, his finger swirling around your clit, pressing harder when you try to pull away. “But I know you’re a little slut f’me, aren’t ya? You like it.” You shake your head, and he just chuckles softly. “Lyin little brat, just admit it. Ya want me to break that perfect pussy.”

“Shh!” You glare then, and he slides another finger, you pray no one hears your cunt literally squishing, your cunt is so slick you can’t take how good it feels, him stretching you out. Your eyes flutter shut and you tremble as you hold the cup of coffee to your lips, struggling to act composed.

“Wanna cum on this cock, don’t ya?” You just glare, but then he’s knuckles deep, and you tremble, slick wetness non stop as your walls close around his hand.

“Then go fuck me in the bathroom, all talk and won’t do it.” You hiss, and he grins, shaking his head.

“First time, nah. I’ll have you in your little bed for that. All your plushies watchin while ya try not to scream too loud.” The thoughts kill you, the anticipation, his fingers, and you’re struggling not to make any noise, as you’re closer, closer, then he’s yanked his hand, and you gasp, nearly falling off the chair.

He’s sucking on your fingers, swirling that lewd tongue around them and moaning softly, eyes shutting for a moment.

You’re done .

You can’t take it.

“You just…”

“Aw, doll, ya wanted me to get ya off? In front of your dad? What a lil slut.” You glare, standing then on trembling legs.

“I’m gonna go get ready for the beach you all!” You say loudly, and they smile, waving over at you.

“I’ll go get ready too.” You curse inwardly, glaring behind your shoulder at the annoying presence that was Toji. He’s following you up the stairs grinning, grabbing your ass and making you smack at him.

“If we’re not fucking stop, can’t handle anymore, ugh!” You hiss the words under your breath, and he’s grinning down at you, brushing back his black hair and yanking you against him in the hallway.

“Such a lil baby, can’t handle some edging?”

“No, I can’t. It hurts.”

“Aw, poor lil thing.” He pouts at you, and you glare, smacking him, then his mouth is wide open, you run then.

“Oh shit, oh shit!”

He’s shoved you in your room then, smacking you back, and you glare up at him, breathless, then you smack him again, and he moans, gripping you by the throat and pressing up. You struggle, but then you just enjoy it, enjoy him choking you, owning you, so big and strong. His teeth are bared, and he’s right against your lips, your breath hot on your lips.

“Ya fuckin gonna learn a lesson slapping me like that. Lucky you’re so pretty or I’d be really pissed. As it turns out…” He watches as your eyes glaze over, as he spins you then, releasing your throat. “Really got me hard, doll.”

“You’re a freak, ugh.” You grumble, but when he yanks your shorts down and smacks the hell out of your ass, making it sting, you’re wetter now. You bite back the urge to moan, as he’s got his hand in your hair, gripping hard as he presses your face against the wall, then he’s smacked you again, harder.

“Freak huh? Well seems like you’re drippin fuckin wet from… this.” He smacks you again, then runs the back of his fingers on your slick cunt, you whine, wiggling, you want more . “You're the freak here, aren’t ya?”

“Shut up, old man.” He smacks you again, the air stinging the whelp. “Toji, my bikini!”

“Fine. Don't fuckin try that again, damn brat.” He tilts your chin to look at him, pressing his hard body against your back.

“Just fuck me. Please.” You wiggle your ass against him, and he hisses, gripping you tight.

“I want time with you, the first time can hurt. I don't want it to be… bad for ya or anything.” You pause at that, turning and looking up at him, and you damn near melt. He's so oddly considerate? Caring? And you can feel how much he wants you.

“When will we have time though? Without…”

“Just kiss me. I… like it.” Is Toji blushing!?

You sigh and tip toe, and for a moment this strong, creepy ass of a man is vulnerable, youthful… fucking so attractive too. You run your hand along his undercut, and he exhales, kissing you then, his lips drinking in your sighs. He picks you up higher, and you're just dangling off the floor, he holds you like you're some doll.

Doll huh.

He's trembling ever so slightly as he holds you, and you pull back, surprised, at his blown out pupils. “I've never liked kissing so much. It's really… fuckin weird.”

You snort at that, sighing. “I did at least have kissing experience if nothing else.”

“Don't wanna hear about anyone kissing ya. Ever.” You blink at that, confused, then tense when you hear your dad and Mei in the hall.

“Shit.” You mutter quietly, and he just shushes you with a finger to his lips until they pass.

“Go get in that bikini doll.” He grips your ass, kissing you one more time. “I'll leave after you. Let me know the coast is clear.”

Soon you're getting in your bikini, wincing at how soaked your shorts had become. Toji was literally some tease!? And caring somewhat!?

Bum Toji, asshole Toji, hoe Toji, he… cared enough to not have your first time be rushed and shitty.

You do like him.

Fuck…

***

Mei’s bikini fit much better, dark blue and hitting mid waist, so thankfully your tits and ass weren’t hanging out. You throw on a little black cover up, grab your sunblock and shades, putting your sandals on. Your legs? Still weak and trembling from Toji’s endless fucking teasing.

You head out front, and your dad and Mei are already in the car, and when you walk out, they honk the horn, waving at you. Toji is leaning against the car, his eyes on you, and you feel his gaze like a brand on your skin, he’s just in trunks and an open black kimono top. You tremble as you look at his body, tanned skin already glistening with sweat.

You walk over, trying to play it cool and ignore him like you do, but he opens the door for you, winking. Toji opened a door, huh?

“Ready for the beach, doll?”

“Yes, let’s go!” You climb in the back of your dad’s sports car, which was tiny and had the tops down. You and Toji were shoved in the back, far too close to each other, as Toji’s legs are spread wide, his arms too, one of them right behind your head, and his strong thigh was pressed on yours.

“No Hello Kitty huh.” You stick your tongue out, and he smirks, one of his fingers brushing up under your knitted cover up, sliding up and down your spine.

“Gotta manspread, Toji?” He snorts, and your dad peeks at you in the rearview, a little serious look for a moment.

“Toji, stop manspreading, leave her some room.” Mei says, and you smile thankfully, as he grimaces, adjusting his big ass body a bit.

“She’s tiny, she don’t need much room.” They all laugh, and you just roll your eyes at him.

“I need some room, big oaf!”

“You’re mad you’re like elf size.”

“Let’s put on music, cover up the bickering.” Shiu says, amusedly, and he pops on a rock song, which Mei sings, throwing her arms up in the air. Shiu keeps peeking over at her.

“Your dad’s got it bad, huh?” Toji murmurs in your ear. You nod, leaning closer and ignoring how good Toji’s body feels, so strong and warm.

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she? Like elegant.” He hums a bit at that, and his hand is on your back again, splaying the entirety of it with how big he is. You push down the thrumming desire you feel.

“She’s pretty, sure, not my type.”

“What is your type, Toji Fushiguro?” You tilt your head, looking at him behind your dark shades, which luckily cover your eyes right now. He looks down at you then, a little more serious than usual.

“Never been with my type.”

“How… is it your type then?”

“They’re not the kind of women that fuck me is all. Usually I don’t hit on women that are my type. Because it would be… serious.”

“And serious isn’t your thing, huh?”

“Not after…” He tenses, and sighs. “I had one girl I was serious about, Megumi’s mom. When she died, I dunno… just fucked around and meant nothing.” You can hear how serious this is, and you touch his hand for a moment.

“You don’t have to talk about that right now. I’m sorry.” He rubs his finger on the backs of your knuckles for a moment, then backs off.

“It’s fine kiddo.” Luckily the music is loud and the wind is in everyone’s ears, but you feel how tense he is.

“Am I your… type?” You speak quietly, and he sighs as he studies you carefully, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You’re the type I don’t hit on, yeah.”

“Then why…”

“Because you make me dumb, doll.” At that you feel your tummy clench, your pulse racing, at how he looks at you in that moment, before he eases away some, looking out the open window, as if to end the talk.

The rest of the drive to the beach is awkward, and you’re thankful when you finally arrive. The waves crash against the shore, and the smell of saltwater and sunlight fills the air, the pretty white sand is on your feet, peaceful and hot. You grab your towel and one of the coolers and start heading towards the water, thoughts raging in your mind.

Everyone gets set up, and Toji sets to making you a drink in your big pink tumbler, surprising you. Mei and Shiu are sipping their drinks and lounging under the big umbrella, Shiu is rubbing sunblock on mei and you and Toji look on with amusement, as he does a very thorough job.

“I made you vodka with that cherry stuff.” Toji gruffs, and you smile at him, taking it thankfully.

“Thank you! Yum.” You let the flavor hit your tongue, and then set it down, taking off your cover up, and feel his dark eyes lewdly glaring at your body.

“It looks pretty on you, love.” Mei says with a wink, looking at Toji with a bit of a knowing smirk. “Toji, get your jaw off the floor.”

You flush, and Shiu snorts at that, looking up at the two of you. “It’s because I’ve only seen her in Hello Kitty. Looks too grown up. Weird.”

“Uh-huh sure, old man.” You flip him off and run off with your tumbler, as Shiu and Mei seemingly joke with Toji. He yells at you.

“Sunblock, brat.”

“I’m fine!”

“You’ll burn.” You grumble, coming and handing him the sunblock then, and he rubs it in his big hands, slathering you up. “You always used to burn, don’t you remember?”

“That was forever ago. I’m not a little kid.”

“Uh-huh.” Toji keeps his strokes quick, as you’re right in front of your dad, acting every bit some caring ‘godfather’ or something, but the way he presses?

Fuck.

“There, now you’re good.” You take another sip, looking at where Mei and Shiu are lounged talking, then up to Toji’s stupidly handsome face.

“Imma dip my feet in.”

“Okay sweetie!” Shiu says with a smile, taking a sip of his beer, and Toji? Follows you. Because of course he does.

“Could you be anymore obvious?” You whisper when you’re out in the water, sitting down and letting the water lap all over your thighs. He smirks, sitting right next to you and sipping his beer.

“Obvious, huh? That I wanna rub every inch of that body?”

“Shush.” You’re blushing, sipping your drink.

“I’ll be vanilla first round. Then you’re in for it.” You look at him, jaw slack in shock at his brazen words. “That mouth wide open, wanna shove my cock in it.”

“Shut up, perv!” You glare, standing then and going more into the water, and he stands, following you. You tense when he touches your hip under the water, freaking out, eyes wide. “Toji!”

“No one can see, doll. Or would ya wanna be seen?” You scowl, smacking off his hand, but it simply grips your ass instead, and you try to bite back your moan.

“No I don’t wanna be seen by my damn dad. That would fuck your relationship up you know.”

“Yeah… I know.” He sighs, looking down at you and grabbing your face as he does, squishing your damn cheeks. “I’d ruin anything for a chance at you.”

“You make no sense! Stop.” You turn away again, and he pulls your ass against him with his free hand, facing you towards the sun, water waving around your bodies, cooling your overheaded skin.

“Saw ya and lost my shit when you opened that door. Cute as fuck in your silly pajamas.” You exhale, as his hand slides around, finding you right where you’re aching for him, moaning when he feels how hot you are. “Nipples poking out that top, perky fucking tits swaying as you walk.”

“Toji…” Your protest is weak and pathetic. His words got to you.

“Think I didn’t wanna fuck ya on your eighteenth birthday party too? Already so gorgeous it made me stupid.”

“What? No…”

“Yeah, doll, and you look at me too. Don’t you? Haven’t you always?” You let your head fall back, out in the ocean shoulders deep, goosebumps rising on your breasts, as he slides his finger under your bikini bottom.

“You think I had a crush on you?” He laughs, breath tickling your ear, you tremble at it. You all are very far out and could barely be seen, but still it scares you, that his calloused finger is circling your little clit, that your ass is pressed against him.

“I know ya did, doll. Your eyes eat me up. Looking down my body… down to my cock.” You’re so overheated you can’t breathe, his cock is hard on your back.

“You’re always wearing grey sweats, man whore.” He snorts, nibbling your ear then sliding down your puffy clit, making you cry out softly.

“Admit it, brat.”

“Yes I had a crush on you, ugh. Since I was little. Stupid.” He moans, thick finger going up and down between your soaking lips, already oversensitive, you grip his wrist and arch up and down.

“Desperate for it doll, ain’t ya? For my cock in ya. Did you want me to be your first baby?”

“Shut up.” You say it weak, a breath more than anything. His chest rumbles with laughter. “Conceited shithead.”

“That mouth… can’t wait to-” He shoves a finger in you, making you gasp in pleasure, soaking him. “Ha- shut that mouth up. Fuck ya till you don’t know shit anymore.”

“Shut up. Bet you won’t.”

“We’ll see tonight doll.” He shoves his finger up and down inside your little gummy entrance, hitting that spot, you get dizzy, legs spreading for more, then he slides his fingers out, and you turn, scowling.

“Tease, you’re a tease Toji.” He grins, sliding a hand up to grab your ass again, pushing you against him, so that you’re against his thigh, and his cock is hard against your soft tummy. You gulp.

“Could cum right now just lookin at this pretty face.” He tilts your chin up. “Think I haven’t jacked it to your pictures online?”

“You-creep-ugh!” But it turns you on?

Fuck.

“You post sexy on that Insta thing.” You roll your eyes.

“Instagram? Old man.”

“Old, huh?” You nod, and hiss when he’s shoving his thigh against you, bringing your ass on it. You can’t stop your moan, head falling back, hand desperately gripping the handle of your tumbler.

“Mmm… you’re an old pervert.”

“Am I…”

“Mmnnh. Yep.” He pushes that strong thigh up, and moans.

“You’re so hot f’me, so fuckin desperate. Begging for my cock when you’re this fucking gorgeous?”

“Toji…” You trail off, then you back off as you see Mei and Shiu are in the water, even if they were far out. “We… too much here.”

“I wanna kiss you so fuckin bad, pretty lips make me so hard.” He’s staring at you with such desire his pupils are dilated, making his eyes look black. You struggle to calm yourself, sipping your drink and backing off.

“Wanna kiss me so bad?” He glares, narrowing his eyes, then just gives you a little nod, before you both act ‘normal’ whatever that even was.

***

You just took a shower after the beach, and come down out back to see Toji grilling, and Mei Mei is snuggling on Shiu. They turn when they look at you, and clearly they’re tipsy, while Toji’s eyes slide up and down you in the little dress you’d put on, a little blue sundress.

“Staying the night, Mei?” You ask, coming up to her, and she grins.

“I may, I have drank a lot.”

“No worries! If you need anything tell me.”

“Thank you darling.” She pats your cheek, and Shiu has puppy dog eyes, you wrap an arm around him.

“You like her huh?” You whisper, and he hushes you.

“She’ll hear!” You grin.

“You’re so childish dad.” You shove at him, and he laughs, then you go walk up to Toji, for a moment touching his back then thinking better, but he tensed from just that contact, exhaling.

“You’re so good at grilling.”

“I’m a whole daddy huh.” He winks and you giggle, you can’t help it, before flushing a bit. “Can’t wait to hear you scream it doll.”

“Shh!” You pinch him now and he just grins wide down at you.

“That sundress… fuck, ma.”

“What about it?” Your arm is against his, bare, his is so hot, sweaty, fucking strong…

“Wanna shove it up and bury my face in your pussy.” You’re backing up, you can’t breathe, thinking about it, about… “You want it doll, don’t ya?”

You ignore him, busying yourself, doing anything to avoid it, to avoid the wetness trickling out of your cunt and sticking to your inner thighs. “You’re full of it, huh?”

“You’re gonna be full of this cock, doll.”

***

Mei and your dad have made some excuse to hang out in his room, as if they needed to explain themselves, and you’re cleaning up the dishes while Toji is taking a shower. You can scarcely concentrate, your mind running a million miles a minute, of the pervy asshole, your dad’s best friend, that wouldn’t stop… being sexy?

Ugh.

Suddenly, hands are on your hips, and you jump up, nearly screaming, but a hand comes to your mouth, and Toji’s against you, pressing you against the sink, hard body hot and damp from the shower still. You tense, struggling to breathe, and he eases his hand off, tilting your chin so you look at him, his inky black hair is falling over his forehead, eyes bright as they take you in.

“Shh, doll.” He whispers, sliding his arms around you, one hand lifting up your dress, sliding up to your little lacy panties, pressing up and rubbing you on them. “Fuckin hot f’me, already?”

“Shut up.” He laughs, breathy, tickling your lips, squishing your cheeks and making your lips purse.

“I need these gone.” You tense, then he’s shoved them down your legs, kicking them off your bare feet, kissing the tops of them before sliding up your leg, and your knees lock, you almost fall over as you feel his hands parting your thighs.

“T-Toji… here?” You whisper, he laughs, standing then and you turn to watch him shoving your thong in the pockets of his sweats. “Wha-?”

He’s picking you up before you can speak, and he’s got you up on the kitchen counter, cold marble making you shiver against him, spreading your thighs and shoving the material of your dress up your thighs. He looks at you hungrily, kissing sloppy up your legs, licking trails hot and sticky, and your hands go into his damp hair, hips bucking up.

“That’s it, be my lil slut, doll. Yank that hair and put me there.” You should hate that talk, but no, you love it, and you do, you shove his face against your soaked little pussy, right on the counter, when anyone could walk out and see. “Mmmh, so fuckin yummy.”

“Toji!” You whisper, crying out and shoving a hand on your face, as he’s licking up your cunt then, hungry, and looking at you with those dark forest eyes, hungry as he sucks on your clit. You’re gushing all over, and he’s slurping you up, until you’re close so fast it’s stupid, body tense.

He hums on your clit, and you start cumming, shoving his face up for more, that stubble against your lips driving you nuts, you’re grinding on him, fucking shameless, and you’re soaked now, all down his face. He’s slurping it up, moaning, big hands grabbing your ass and shoving even deeper, until his tongue is deep inside your entrance.

You’re throbbing around it, as he laps up your essence, so hungry for you it makes you even more turned on, and you’re biting back a scream, head slamming back against the cabinet with a thud. He’s relentless against you, tongue fucking you as his fingers slide in, stretching your delicate skin.

“That’s it doll, fuckin pulsing all around my fingers. Nasty lil slut f’me.” You whimper, helpless, as he leans his head up, groaning and spitting on your pussy, licking your cum off his lips and grinning, watching the saliva slip down your lips.

“Please, please…” You’re whimpering, and he laughs softly, spreading his spit all around your already soaked lips, nipping on your clit then, you jerk at it. “Please…”

“Please what, doll? Fuckin can’t hear ya.” You take a shaky breath, as he scissors you with his thick fingers, bringing you close again, the pressure hitting so hard you can’t take it.

“Fuck you Toji.” He scowls, as you glare, then he grabs you, dropping you to your knees on the floor and holding you by your throat, tight as fuck, you can barely breathe when he’s got his sweats down.

“Runnin that mouth. Let me shut it the fuck up.” Suddenly he’s shoving his thick cock in your throat, and you moan softly around it, he hisses, his other hand yanking you by your ponytail. “Lemme fuck that little throat.”

“Ngh!” You’re drooling all over his cock, as he’s choking you, you can’t even breathe.

“Remember the taps?” He whispers, you nod, tapping, then he’s fucking your throat so mean , so nasty, grunting as his tip thickens, bullying its way until you’re swallowing all of his cock.

Your feel lightheaded, just when he lets your throat go, and you try to breathe through your nose, until he holds it close, bottoming out in your throat and moaning, you wiggle, unable to breathe at all now. He’s fucking your throat quicker, harder, and you can’t even grasp his thighs to tap, nearly blacking out, gasping and crying, tapping him finally.

“Fuck, doll…” He releases you immediately, and you hold your throat, tears streaming down your face, he helps you  up, caressing your face. “You’re so fuckin gorgeous with these tears, ya know that?”

You manage to shake you head, throat killing you, trying to come to, and he frowns then.

“Too much?” You manage to shake your head, and he exhales, kissing you then, tasting himself, as you taste yourself, moaning into his mouth. He picks you up, and you cling to him eagerly. “You did so fuckin good f’me, doll.”

“I did?” He nods, moaning and kissing you deeply, the praise making you even wetter as you come to, sucking in air greedy.

“Best fuckin blow job I’ve had.” He’s carrying you then, out of the damn kitchen you all had been precariously fucking around in, and finally you’re in your room, and he’s locking it quietly, carrying you to your bed. He leans up, yanking your dress up and off you. “Perfect fuckin body.”

“Toji… you don’t have to say those things. I wanna fuck you already.” He glares, big hand on your throat again, already sore, you wriggle in his hold, eyes wide.

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean, I ain’t gassin you up. Your body’s so fucking sexy to me. Every inch. Got it?” You feel tears again, this time from how he looks at you, so hungry for you, so intense. “I’ll kiss every inch of you.”

“T-Toji… mmm…” He releases your throat, kissing down your throat, and you cry out softly, hands gripping his thick shoulders. “That’s sweet?”

He laughs darkly, tickling your neck, as his hand slides between your bare thighs, rubbing up and down your glistening pussy. “Sweet, me? Ya lost too much oxygen, there, doll.”

“Shush. It is sweet… mmm!” He smacks you cunt, making it sting, and then rubs his fingers side to side on your clit.

“I’m just telling you the truth. Perfect face. Perfect tits. Curves so soft… thighs that squeeze the fuck outta me. Tight little cunt. Fuck, I even like your little feet.” You giggle at that, as he sucks on a nipple, making you even wetter on his hand.

“Thank you, Toji. I love your body too. It’s perfect.” You run your hands down his strong back, and he pauses, looking up at you, for a moment, intense.

“Course ya do, doll. Ya want that big cock don’t ya?” You nod, reaching down now, feeling him hot and hard in your hand. He groans, yanking your hand up then, pressing your wrists up with his tight grip.

“Please, Toji. I want it. Please.” You arch your ass up, and he tenses, grip tight as he kisses up between your breasts, licking a line between them.

“Ya sure you’re ready, pretty doll?” You nod, and he exhales, positioning himself at your entrance, looking at you, hair falling, you ache to brush it back. “Vanilla, remember?”

You giggle at that, shaking your head. “I don’t see Toji Fushiguro fucking vanilla. It doesn’t compute.” You lean your hips up, as he presses, teasing your soaking entrance, rubbing it up and down against your clit until you’re wriggling.

“Just the first time, doll.” He lets your wrists go, and you think wildly, just what are you doing, begging to lose your virginity from Toji? In your childhood room? And yeah, your plushies are judging you. But… “Hang on to me.”

You tentatively grip his shoulders, and he kisses you, softer than he has before, and you fall into it, fuck it feels good…

Then he thrusts inside you, so thick, hard, long… you can’t hold in your cry of pain when he breaks past that last little barrier of resistance you had. You feel like you’re burning, this insane pressure in you too much, you’re sobbing against his lips, and he groans, grabbing your face and pausing, looking down at you.

“Doll, you okay?” You manage a nod, but you can’t breathe, blinding pain when he eases back and pushes in, further how was he deeper!? He bites his lower lip, eyes shutting for a moment. “You’re too tight, fuck… relax baby.”

“Can’t… t’much.” You whisper out, and he pulls out again, shoving in again, and now it didn’t sting, but you were so full , it felt so…

“Look at me, baby.” You manage to focus on his face, tense with concentration, he slides a hand down between you both, lifting one of your legs over his arm and using the other to toy with your clit. “Focus on it for a minute… fuck you’re too tight… please fuckin loosen up.”

“I don’t know how , virgin, duh!” He grits his teeth, resting his forehead on you, breaths on your lips, and your nails dig into his arms. “Toji…”

“Focus on your clit baby. Please, fuck.” You shut your eyes, trying to focus on where he’s overstimulating your clit, and then you start to relax, as he exhales, pulling back again, then thrusting all the way in, bottoming out against your cervix. He’s so thick, stretching you, as you get wetter with his play.

It starts to feel…

“Toji! Mmm…” You lift your hips experimentally, and open your eyes to see him studying you so intently, eyes drinking you in, two fingers swirling your clit now.

“Better, doll?” You nod, and he breathes out, kissing you deeply, pushing in again, lifting your leg up more. “Perfect pussy. Perfect. Ready?”

You inhale sharply. “Yeah, I think?” He starts thrusting with a rhythm now, fucking into you, and it feels so good, the stretch and him hitting spots you never knew were there. You start moaning, and he covers your mouth with his hand.

“Quiet doll. Can’t have company in here.” You flush at his grin, then he leans his head back, groaning softly. “F-fuckk… so fucking…”

He shoves two fingers in your mouth now,, and you eagerly suck on them, while he starts railing you now, so deep, hips snapping as he overtakes everything. He’s sweating above you, dripping from his body onto yours, getting up on his knees and yanking you down hard on his cock then, you scream around his fingers, drooling as pressure builds in your core.

“That’s it doll. Cum on daddy’s cock.” Your eyes roll back, as he realeases your mouth, slamming his against yours, pressing your thighs up high so he’s abusing your cervix, the hair above his cock grinding against your aching clit. “Say it, doll, say it.”

“Mmm.. you’re… fuck… Daddy. ” He growls, shoving deep and pressing your thighs against your breasts, and you’re cumming so hard you can’t handle, he quickly throws a hand on your mouth to cover your screams.

“Cum all over daddy’s cock, lil’ slut. Good girl.” You’re squirting wetness all around his thick cock, and his pupils are blown out in your dark little room, then he’s fucking you harder, deeper, the bed springs creaking with the force, and the headboard starts smacking on the wall.

“Ngh!” You’re drooling all over, your cunt around his cock throbbing, and he hisses at the sensation, holding the headboard now, tall and domineering with his big body on you, caressing your lips then.

“Fuckin gorgeous little girl. Keep cumming for daddy.” You nod, eagerly, as he uses the new angle to hit some spot in your walls that make you cum again, you grit your teeth not to scream. “Gorgeous when you cum on my cock. Again, doll, you can do it again.”

You feel like you’ll die, like you cant breathe, but as he keeps fucking you, you get close again, as one of his hands slides up and squeezes your breast, smacking it lightly, leaning back down over you. Every muscle in his body is bunched up, tense, as he rolls his hips and shoves that cock against your cervix, pressing against it so hard you wriggle uncontrollably.

“Toji… s’good…”

“Daddy.” He smacks your other tit now, and you hiss. “Say Daddy, fuckin brat. Do it.”

“You’re freaky-ah!”

“Am-ha-I freaky? I’m being gentle, fuckin brat.” He leans down, hands both on your face now, looking down as he pushes in deep and doesn’t move, making you fall apart under him. “Want me to choke ya again? Like a lil slut?”

“Choke me daddy .” He exhales, desire clear in his eyes, his lips parted, and he wraps that big hand on your throat again, squeezing the sides, so good as you feel your head fuzzy.

“Gonna fuck you hard, doll. Got it?” You nod, against his grip, then he starts fucking you mean, thrusts smacking loud in the room, and your cunt is so wet. “Hear that lil cunt, squelching? Fuckin slutty cunt.”

“Unh…” You’re gasping, as you see glitter and stars, as Toji wrecks the pussy he’d just taken for the first time, merciless, and you’re cumming again.

“Can’t help yourself, cumming all over Daddy’s cock? You fuckin love this, perfect slit f’me.” You eat up his nasty words, as your vision gets blurred, and you’re cumming all over him. “Fuck… doll .”

He pauses, easing his grip, your cunt gushes wetness everywhere, down your thighs, down his stomach, and you can hear how wet you are, as he fucks easier and easier in your little pussy. He slows some, grabbing you everywhere, your waist, your hips, your face, until he’s laying on you, his weight so heavy, hot hard body on your soft one.

“Fuckin in love with this pussy.” He whispers, and you tremble, tears of pain and pleasure in your eyes when he pulls you on his cock. “I’m never lettin it go.”

“Toji…” He smacks you lightly, and you moan, arching your back. “Daddy…”

“Good girl.” He’s kissing you, rolling thrusts hitting that spot over and over, so wet you’re slippery now. “Perfect little slut. Perfect little pussy.” He pauses, exhaling and then glaring down at you, gripping you bruising, his cock twitching in you. “Fuck.. Imma cum. Where…”

“Um, on me? I… dunno… where…” He smiles a bit, slowing more, a little gentle almost, so different than what he’d been doing.

“Kiss me, doll.” You’re surprised, blinking, but your wrap your arms around his neck, tongue sliding into his mouth, as he grips you tight, rhythm jerky now. “Cum one more time f’me, like a good girl.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You are unironically calling him that. It’s hot too?

Fuck.

You cum one last time, and he’s groaning quietly, brows drawn together, and he pulls back then, you feel him jerking his cock, and sticky white ropes paint your overheated skin. He keeps cumming too, all over your soft tummy, your ribs, between your breasts, and he’s kissing you now, oddly affectionate, you fall into his kisses, sighing into his lips.

“That pussy? I’ve never fucked anything close to it.” You tremble at his words, eyes mirroring your desire.

“Really? But… you’ve fucked a lot yeah?”

He licks his scar, smirking then. “Yeah, fucked a lot. Never felt anything like ya cummin on my cock. Gets so tight…” He eases back, looking down your body, then he pauses a bit. “I go too rough doll?”

“No, when you started going harder I was ready. Just at first…” You look down too, shoving your thighs closed, blushing furiously. “Oh… I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what, it’s natural.” He brushes your hair back softly. “Let me run to the bathroom, I’ll clean ya up.”

You just nod, laying your head back and the room is nearly spinning, as you stare up at your ceiling, still adorned with those glow and the dark stars from middle school. You try to calm your breathing down, as your cunt is aching, burning… and you struggle not to get that blood between your thighs on your bed.

He’s back quickly, shutting the door silently, and he wipes you between your thighs with a washcloth, as your legs close in embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me doll.” You have no choice, he’s got one hand on your face, forcing you too. “It’s just the first time. Don’t be embarrassed with me.”

You nod a bit, as he finishes cleaning you up, then cleans your tummy and waist carefully, kissing down where he does. He’s then back between your thighs, and you hiss as his tongue flicks up your slit again.

“Toji… what…”

“I hurt her a bit. Apologizing.” You giggle then, shaking your head, brushing his inky black hair back.

“You don’t have to. I liked it. A lot.”

He peeks up at you, planting a loud kiss on your pussy. “Let me and her talk, I wasn’t inviting you to our conversation.”

You roll your eyes with another laugh, that turns into a gasp, as he spreads your thighs, licking your sore lips, your swollen clit. “Toji… don’t have to…”

“I don’t have to do shit doll. Want to.” He’s watching you as he licks you, pressing on your tummy then, flicking his tongue so fast on your clit you can’t stand it. “Let me taste you on my mouth all night, doll, fuckin taste like candy ma.”

“Fuck you’re hot… damn it… Toji can’t cum again, t’much! Mmm!” He’s relentless with oddly gently flicks, hands cupping your breasts as he’s lapping you up, twisting your nipples an dpinching them. Your legs shake, and you grip your blankets in tight fists.

“One more time f’me. Got me drunk on this fuckin pussy, doll, don’t ya?” You have no clue what he really means, but when he moans on your clit, you do cum again, and he drinks you up. No other word, you hear him sucking it all up, leaving you weak, exhausted.

He kisses up your body, god you’re not even functioning anymore, until he’s caressing your face, not squeezing it like usual.

“Did it hurt, baby?” He’s oddly caring as he asks.

“Only at the start, then it was… good.” He laughs as he watches you turn bright pink. “It was better than good. Fucking amazing?”

“Good, I didn’t want it to hurt but…”

“You’re huge.”

“You’re tiny.”

You both say it at the same time, then you’re flushed again, as he runs a thumb down your lip, popping it between them for a moment.

“Don’t want you to regret it.” You blink back tears, shaking your head, cupping his face then, thumb running down his scar.

“No, Toji, not at all. I’m glad it was you. As stupid, wreckless, outright wrong as it all is, it felt really right.”

He gulps, kissing you again. “Makin me stupid with that cunt.”

“You make me stupid.”

“Yeah?” You nod, and then he sighs, looking at the clock. “Wish I could sleep next to…”

You both pause at that. You look up at him curiously.

“It’s just fun, yeah?” You ask softly, and he nods.

“Yeah, just fun. Teaching ya how to be a lil slut f’me.” You nod, but then when he kisses you again… “Wanna sleep with ya so I can fuck ya in your sleep.”

“Uh-huh, bet you do.” You tease him, and could swear you see his face redden just a bit, but it’s dark, right?

“Rest up doll, not going easy on ya again.” Your eyes widen.

“Easy on me!?”

“Yeah, not happening again.” He pops a kiss on your forehead, contradicting his words. “Gonna rail that perfect cunt so hard, wreck it for anyone.”

“Toji what the…”

He kisses you deeply, tongue sweeping your mouth, swirling around your tongue. “Love these pretty lips.”

“Toji…”

“Gotta go.” He leaves you, but he covers you first with a blanket, glaring as you look at him. “It’s cold in here.”

He turns and pulls up his sweats, carefully heading to your door. “Hey… Toji?” You whisper, and he turns, his usually cocky face disoriented. You pull your blanket up a  bit and sit. “Good… Night.” You can’t figure out what you wanted to say. Your brain is fried by his cock.

“Night, doll.” He heads out, and you suddenly feel alone, in your little room, and you still feel him, taste him, smell him, all over you.

Toji Fushiguro just took your virginity.

And next time he’s not going easy on you.

Your mind races because…

Maybe he has ruined you already.

Chapter 5

Ch on A03:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/146903041

[rhyrhy]

Never Yours, Always Hers

“Everytime you try to forget who I am, I’ll be right there to remind you again”

⚠︎ ⋆. Warnings: substance Abuse, emotional, psychological, (no physical!) Public humiliation (r!), Grief and trauma, harassment (r!), Manipulation, Wealth & Privilege, Obsession. Just overall darker themes!

✈︎ Authors note: read part one here!

Taglist : @nerdyjeansblog @h2pinky @polarhues @love-bb @sleepingwasp @Tiffys-post @antobooh

Two funerals in the spand of this year and a half, was the last thing you’d expected. You felt like you were having déjà vu, dressed in dark colors once more. a flat expression on your face. Just like you were months ago.

“Leah was young, bright, and had so-” The woman’s voice cracked. “I apologize, she had so much life left to live..” her mother continued, sniffing as she spoke out into the room.

Flashes of that night stabbed through the speech, invading your mind. The damp grass, the sound of screaming and yelling out each others names.

She was missing in the group sitting on the plushed seats. The tension ticked the air as you three sat. Jordan’s fingers digging into his navy dress pants. Abby’s fingers laced with yours. The others either too distressed to attend or out of town. Meanwhile leah sat, cold, in a polished box, flowers rainbowed with colors. The casket was closed due to her injuries, and you were morbidly thankful. That was last thing you needed to see, anyone needed to see.

✈︎ Guilt wasnt even the word to describe the feeling you had. You’d, left that night. You’d valued your girlfriend’s word over her wellbeing, Jesus. This didn’t even feel like you. To put the cherry on top of this sour cocktail of bubbling feelings Jordan didn’t even glance at you two. You could only imagine how he was feeling. Twisting the promise ring Leah had bought him, with a blank expression. Your grip tightened on the fabric of your dress, nails digging into your palm. The weight of everything sat heavy on your chest. grief, regret, the unshaken feeling that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be. And yet, as the service continued, as the weight of Jordan’s silence pressed against your ribs, as Leah’s mother wept over a daughter gone too soon. Abby’s fingers never left yours.

They never did. Not then. Not now. Not ever. You could run, you could fight, but in the end, Abby always got what she wanted. And now, sitting beside her at Leah’s funeral, you realized… she had you again.

────୨ৎ────

Funny how loss has a way of warping time. One moment, you’re standing over a grave. Back with the woman you desperately tried to run away from. The next, you’re back where it all started. watching everything fall apart. like how at the beginning of the year, the words from the other end of the line haunted you.

“All of me.” “Us.”

✈︎ You hung up. If you stayed on the line any longer, she would’ve won. Though it didn’t stop the words echoed in your head like a broken record, refusing to let go. You hated the way your stomach twisted so easily, the way her voice still had that effect on you. She was humiliating you. publicly. The same woman who used to drape her hoodie over your legs when you sat too close to someone now had your ass plastered all over the timeline. And people were eating it up.

✈︎ Pages were reposting it. Twitter threads were dissecting it. ‘Couple goals’. ‘They were so in love’. Your phone wouldn’t stop vibrating. Group chats blowing up, friends dropping messages somewhere between concern and curiosity.

✈︎ Sighing deeply, you held the side button on your phone until the screen went black. Disconnect. That’s what you needed. You even considered deleting everything permanently, just disappearing for a while. But that wasn’t an option. You had a reputation, and you weren’t about to let an ex, if you could even call her that; drag you down. Technically, you never broke things off completely. Maybe you thought Abby would take the hint. Maybe part of you wasn’t ready to say it out loud. But now you were seeing Jess. Now, Abby had made sure the entire internet thought she still owned you. When suddenly, it felt like a dim lightbulb flickered on. Instead of running away from it, you were going to repost it. Take some sort of power back. Maybe even add your own petty caption back. This was so high school. But what choice did you have?

Then, the notification on your phone brought you back to earth. Jessica.

1:01 PM Jessica: “What the fuck is this?” [ 1: attachment]

You exhaled sharply, running a hand down your face. This wasn’t just about a picture anymore. It was about her. Abby. Making a move, knowing exactly how to get to you. And It was working.

You’d barely gotten out of your bed and managed to ruffle so many feathers. You threw your phone, With your face buried, you let out a frustrated scream. The emotion rang out into the space. lifting your head slowly from the pillow, hair fallen over your face. Chest heaving up and down. Pissed wasn't even the word. You were going to kill that prissy nepo baby the moment you saw her again.

At least that’s what you’d hoped you would do.

────୨ৎ────

Abby sat back against the fence. Racket fallen near her white shoes. phone clutched in her hand. The weight of it felt different now heavier, almost like she could feel the heat radiating from the screen. She refreshed the post. Again. And there it was. Reposted. With a caption.

Her jaw ticked. Oh, you want to play it like that? A bitter huff blew from the corner of her lips. She should’ve felt satisfied; this was exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it? To get a reaction? To remind you that she was still right there, taking up space in your head the same way you still haunted every part of hers? So you wouldn’t forget about her so easily. So why the fuck did it feel like she just lost something? The whole thing was blowing up faster than she expected. Abby just shook her head, running a hand through her hair. Long legs standing up from the warmed metal, pushing the thoughts away for now. Pushing any guilt away.

✈︎ it had been days, and Abby was still staring at her phone. Waiting for something new, but it never came. You’d shot back and carried on, was this it? She wanted— no, needed you to be upset. Yell, scream, anything she just needed you to talk to her. she knew she’d dug herself a hole, and didn’t plan on putting the shovel down anytime soon. Jessica on the other hand had been keeping you at arms length. She was fully aware of who your ex was, having experienced her tendencies herself. She just wasn’t convinced you were, and that scared her.

✈︎ Jessica had been distant. Not in an obvious, doors-slamming, screaming-match kind of way. The way her replies took longer, the way she barely reached for you first anymore, the way her touch felt obligatory instead of instinctual. At first, you told yourself it was nothing. A rough patch. A busy week. But then there were the pointed comments, the way she started watching you instead of just looking at you.

“I just don’t want to be someone’s second choice,” she’d said one night, half-drunk and sprawled across her couch. It wasn’t an accusation, not yet, but it was close.

“You’re not,” you replied, too quickly, almost too defensively.

She only hummed, unconvinced, taking another sip of her drink. The conversation ended there, but the tension didn’t. It wasn’t just about the picture anymore. It was about her. Abby. She had her hooks in you, whether you liked it or not.

But that denial wasn’t stronger than the pull you felt.

✈︎ You wanted to kill her, abby. at that moment, but every time Jessica kissed you, it was almost flat. Bare. Nothing. How could one woman taint you so much? How could she dig herself so deep under your skin that you were still trying to claw her out? Maybe this was why her first girlfriend left. Maybe she saw this coming before you did. You could’ve just ended things with Jessica, sure. But you knew the second she left, you’d turn right back to the blonde you so desperately wanted out of your head.

✈︎ Abby, who had humiliated you publicly. Who had always been too much—too possessive, too controlling, too obsessive. You should hate her. Feel disgusted. Feel outraged. But you didn’t. Not really. Because even now, as Jessica’s lips pressed to yours. her hands steady, her touch careful—you felt nothing. No heat, no rush, no pull deep in your gut. It was flat. Like going through the motions of something you were supposed to want. And you hated that. Hated that Abby had ruined this for you. Because she had. She had tainted everything. Branded herself so deep into your skin that no one else felt right. No one else felt like home. And that should piss you off. It should be enough to make you hate her. Despise her.

✈︎ But you didn’t. Because the truth was, you liked the way she wanted you. It was twisted and possessive and downright unhealthy, but at least it was real. Abby never faked a thing in her life. When she wanted something, she took it. Claimed it. And you’d spent so long under the weight of her obsession that anything less than that just felt… hollow. Maybe that’s why you were still here with Jessica. Not because you wanted her, but because she wasn’t Abby. And if she left, you knew exactly where you’d go.

✈︎ Maybe you were starting to adjust to life with Jessica. She had her small icks, of course. You hated that she was a stone top. it was predictable every time her hands trailed to your inner thighs. She wasn’t big on PDA, always using the excuse that her hands were too warm to hold yours. And the smell of cigarettes that clung to her clothes? Ugh.

But all cons lists have their countering pros.

✈︎ Unlike Abby, revealing outfits weren’t a problem for her. A low wolf whistle was a familiar sound whenever you showed her your outfits. Her hand always found yours, spinning you slowly as her eyes scanned over you. A small smile would tug at your lips when she approved. Jessica never checked your phone or asked for passwords. She said she trusted you and didn’t need to.She didn’t even care when other girls eyed you. just continued the night as if they weren’t there, letting them stare. It felt like freedom, to not just be her girlfriend but yourself.

✈︎ Though a small part of you wondered if her lack of jealousy came with a lack of care.

✈︎ Abby paid attention to everything, and I mean everything. The time a waitress on a date night glanced at you a little too long. The smallest change in your hair. A compliment always followed. Yes, she kept you covered, but maybe you preferred that. You hated even thinking it, but Jess didn’t care enough. And Abby? She cared too much. You felt awful for holding all this emotional turmoil inside, never expressing any of it to Jessica. You gave her a small insight when the post went viral, but the discussion wasn’t long. It was definitely awkward, and by the end of it, you weren’t even sure if she believed you.

✈︎ You had nothing to do with it. You had no idea if Abby even still had pictures of you two together. Most exes delete them in a heavily emotional rampage. get rid of the memories, the gifts, especially the pictures. But Abby wasn’t like every other ex. She kept everything. Why would she throw them away? You never actually said break up. You said break. that you needed space. But now, some bitch had you plastered all over social media. And the pictures of her hands and skin on yours made Abby run hot.

✈︎ The picture. That picture. The one Abby had no right to still have, let alone post. It was everywhere. Reposted. Retweeted. Meme’d, And Abby? She wasn’t hiding. If anything, she was enjoying it from your perspective. Letting people talk. Letting people assume. Letting the world know you still belonged to her. Headlines, gossip threads, Instagram stories dissecting every piece of your past with Abby. And Jessica, poor fucking Jessica. was caught in the fallout. First she was pulling away. Then she stopped replying.

────୨ৎ────

Monday, February 10th

2:00 PM – You: “Hi, are you still coming? I’m already dressed.”[2 images]

2:37 PM – Jessica: “Hey, something came up. I’ll text you later.”

Wednesday, February 24th

8:14 AM – You: “Hey, I was calling to check on you. Can you call me back when you get a sec?” [Read 8:20 AM]

────୨ৎ────

Now, she stopped showing up.

You sat with your chin resting on your arm, staring out the living room window. You wondered if this was how Abby felt. it was what it felt like to be ditched. ignored, full-blown cold turkey. And you knew this wasn’t out of the blue. Partly this was a long time coming. Maybe Jessica was done dealing with you. Maybe she could tell you were faking those orgasms. But didn’t she still owe you some kind of explanation? Even if you already knew what it was about in the first place? Technically, you were still together…unless you weren’t.

she was gone as quickly as she came.

────୨ৎ────

Meanwhile…Monday, 3:42 PM

Jessica sat in the stiff, too-bright office of the academic integrity board, her fingers tapping anxiously against her knee. She wasn’t supposed to be here. This was a mistake. Across the table, a professor cleared his throat, sliding a printed document toward her.

“This is your paper for Dr. Reynolds’ midterm, correct?”

Jessica nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah?”

He flipped to another page. “And you’re aware that this exact same paper was submitted two weeks earlier under a different student’s name?”

Her stomach dropped. “What? No, that’s not possible.”

The woman sitting beside him; Dean Halstead, head of student affairs. adjusted her glasses. “Jessica, we conducted a plagiarism review, and the evidence is compelling. Not only does this submission predate yours, but the formatting and citations are identical.”

“That’s— that’s bullshit,” she snapped, heart pounding. “I wrote that paper myself. I don’t know what kind of mistake—”

“There’s more.”The professor slid another paper forward. An email printout.

Anonymous tip: Jessica Davis has been paying for essays. Check her last submission. it was plagiarized.

Her head spun. “This—this isn’t real. I don’t cheat.”

Dean Halstead’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Do you have proof of that?”

Jessica blinked. “What?”

“If you didn’t plagiarize, can you provide drafts? Notes? Any record of you writing this paper?”

She opened her mouth—then closed it.

Her laptop had crashed two days after submitting the assignment. Everything was wiped. And she hadn’t saved the document anywhere else. The silence stretched.

“I didn’t cheat,” she whispered, but it sounded weaker now.

The professor sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jessica, under the university’s academic integrity policy, plagiarism—intentional or not—is grounds for immediate expulsion.”

Expulsion.

Dean Halstead folded her hands. “You have 48 hours to vacate campus. Your academic record will reflect the violation, and you will not be eligible for re-admittance.” Just like that.Jessica stood too fast, her chair scraping against the wooden floor.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ You found out later she was Expelled. Just like that. Rumors swirled, was it cheating? plagiarism? Yep, some bullshit about ‘breaking school policy’. You texted, called, and even emailed Jessica, but nothing. You’d heard from mutual friends that she was beyond in distress. Cheating on midterms would guarantee being put to the curbside. This didn’t feel right; Jessica was somewhat invested in her future. She wasn’t reckless enough to throw it all away. How do you go from passing to not even being allowed on campus?

✈︎ It didn’t sit right. And then that nagging feeling, that small voice in the back of your head, whispered something you didn’t want to hear. Because Abby was quiet. Too quiet. And the last time she was this quiet, someone disappeared, too. Dina, Dina had been pulled away just as quick. No time to think or justify. Just gone. L you felt like you knew the truth, as much as you ignored it. But did you? Did you actually know that Abby had pulled enough strings to get Jessica Framed? No…but the question hung.

✈︎ Staying friends with your ex’s friends usually wasn’t the brightest idea, but Nora respected your boundaries. Even if she was a bit more blunt than necessary, she was a good listener and sometimes gave advice that, at the very least, felt worth considering. She was always your go-to when you needed someone. Hell, she was even on your emergency contacts.

✈︎ So naturally, when that nagging voice in your head wouldn’t shut up about the Jessica situation, she was the first person you called. But today, the conversation felt like it was running in circles. Usually, Nora had no problem humoring your thoughts and theories, no matter how far-fetched they seemed. Today, though, she almost sounded irritated.

“I’m serious, Nor. Something is… off. This whole Jessica thing.” You sighed, painting your nails, the soft murmur of the TV playing in the background of your bedroom. The white polish coated each nail with a smooth gloss.

“Girl, she hasn’t texted you back in weeks. Who gives a shit?” Nora groaned on the other end of the line.

“I do,” you shot back. “Nora, she’s still my…” You hesitated. “Girlfriend, I think?” You exhaled, frustrated.

“See? You don’t even have a label with the girl.”

“She was one of those ‘we don’t need labels, blah blah’ types. Plus, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for something serious anyway,” you explained, sticking your toes under the LED blue light. “—That’s not the point,” you said. “What I’m saying is, I know Jess. Cheating on midterms is a one-way ticket out—everyone knows that., I just don’t get it,” you muttered.

“Yeah. And she took it. It is what it is” Nora finalized. Moving to a different topic of conversation.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ You didn’t even bother talking to your mother about Jessica, or the breakup, if you could even call it that. All they saw was the golden girl of your past. Little Miss Perfect, who drove you up a wall. The first time they met Jess, it was less than pleasant. Small comments, poking questions about her family, her plans for the future. And you couldn’t even complain. They were comparing her to a girl who had it all from the outside. No one saw the other side. the side that drove you away.

✈︎ You hated arguments with them, so, reluctantly, you stayed quiet. You couldn’t engage in that conversation without emotions taking over. You felt like you were standing on one leg constantly. Always off balance. One push and you’d crumble. So you pushed through the semester. Changed your hair to a lighter color. A symbol of starting over, in a way. Yet your grip on stability was slipping.

Then, on the first of March, hope washed over you when flowers arrived at your door. They weren’t the white roses you were used to, but they were still beautiful. The fresh green stems contrasted against the soft petals blooming at the tops. You quickly brought the bouquet to a vase in your room. then noticed a small white note tucked inside.

Excitedly, you flipped it open. Jess had sent these, right? Maybe she felt bad for ghosting you. But as your eyes scanned the black lettering against the paper, your heart sank.

Oh, This was a breakup letter.

Jessica. Your Jessica. Jessica Marie Baldwin had sent you flowers to fucking break up with you. Your fingers loosened. With a small flex, The grip on the glass vase was gone. Clear shards sprayed across the floor of your room. Cold water seeped through your fluffy house slippers. You barely noticed, still gripping the paper in your hand. Your mind went blank.

✈︎ Your hands moved without a second thought, scrolling through the call log on your phone to dial the most recent number. The shoulder you cried on when needed, the ear who listened to all your tangents. As soon as she picked up, the tears broke out. Just the simple “Are you okay?” seemed to crumble any defenses you still had up. You began to ramble, explaining everything.

“Is she serious? A letter?! A damn letter, Nora. She couldn’t even have the decency to face me,” you sniffed, pacing around your bedroom. The cold screen pressed against your ear, a tissue in your other hand.

“Oh, and then I checked her socials. She took everything down and blocked me! Like she doesn’t even care what I think. She’s such a bitch, and—”

✈︎ You continued to rant to your friend. Sure, you weren’t head over heels per se, but you’d let her.—Jess, in to an extent. Gave her your time, mind, body. And all of it had been reduced to a letter. Months of time spent, all shortened to one hundred and thirty-six words. Half-hearted and lacking any real accountability.

“Yeah, that’s really messed up,” Nora agreed, but there was something off about her voice. quick, a little too dismissive. “You deserve way better than that, and you know it.”

“I know, Nor. I know. But I was starting to really like her, okay? Like, maybe it was working—” You paused…There was another voice. Faint, but there. Muffled, like someone else was in the room with her. Your stomach twisted, did she have people over? Or maybe had the tv in the background.

“Are… are you talking to someone? I thought I heard something.”

Nora didn’t reply immediately. The silence stretched. Too long for comfort. Then, she cleared her throat. “No, it’s just the TV. Keep talking, I’m listening.”

But now you weren’t. That weird gut feeling settled in, thick and uncomfortable. Your fingers tensed around the phone, an instinct you couldn’t ignore telling you to just hang up. Maybe you were just paranoid, but the longer the quiet stretched, the more your face distanced from the phone, your thumb hovering over the red ‘end call’ button. And then, just before you could pull away completely. A voice in the background. Low. Extremely Familiar.

“She’s still going?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Nora wasn’t alone. And you knew exactly who was with her. What the actual hell. you’d been balling your eyes out for the past thirty minutes, talking to the one person you trusted. And you were on speaker phone, spilling your guts out with Abby listening. Nora didn’t answer right away but her hesitation was all you needed.

Your stomach churned, the weight of betrayal settling deep in your chest. “Nora,” you said again, slower this time, voice laced with disbelief.

Another hushed sound. movement, maybe—before she finally spoke. “Look, it’s not—” Nora began then stopped herself.

“Oh my god,” you exhaled, gripping the bridge of your nose. “Are you fucking serious?”

More shuffling. A muffled sigh. And then—Abby’s voice, clear as day. “You’re being dramatic.” Your entire body went rigid. The cold screen pressed against your ear suddenly felt unbearable, your grip tightening around the phone. For the past thirty minutes, you had been pouring your heart out. spilling every last l thought, while she sat there, listening. Your throat burned.

“You put me on speakerphone?” Your voice wavered, heat creeping into it. “After everything?”

Nora tried again, “It’s not like that”

“You’re kidding me,” you cut her off, anger surging now. “No—fuck you, Nora.” You didn’t even let her respond before your thumb slammed against the red ‘end call’ button, the silence that followed so deafening it made your head spin. The minute your phone hit your dresser, you took a deep breath and realized March was off to a god awful start.

✈︎ You didn’t even let her respond before your thumb slammed against the red ‘end call’ button, the silence that followed so deafening it made your head spin. The minute your phone hit your dresser, you took a deep breath and realised March was off to a godawful start. Nora didn’t even have time to explain herself, the sound of the line dropping on your end. She sighed deeply. Resting her head back on the couch. Being put in the middle of her friends drama wasn’t easy for her earlier. Abby poking to figure out how you are and you leaning on her. So yes, unfortunately, every now and again she’s dropped small things. It seemed harmless at first. ‘She’s fine’ to a picture of your new hair colour to being convinced that maybe if she let her hear your voice, it would ease her some. How was she supposed to know you’d be bawling your eyes out, crying over your rebound?

✈︎ Abby, on the other hand, sat still, gripping the drink in her hand a little too tightly. The guilt should have hit her harder. Maybe it was there, beneath the surface, but all she could focus on was the sound of your voice. The way it cracked mid-sentence. The sharp gasps between words. The way you still sounded like hers even though you weren’t. She hadn’t expected to hear you like this. Not like this. Not for her. Jess. Of all people, Jess. That’s what had your voice breaking? That’s what had you sobbing into Nora’s ear. Did you even cry over her like that?

✈︎ Her jaw clenched, and she downed the rest of her drink, letting the burn fuel her frustration. Maybe she had no right to feel this way, but when had that ever stopped her before? Because as much as it made her chest tight, as much as it made her fingers twitch with something ugly. At least now she knew. You were still just as bad at letting go as she was.

✈︎ That was the first time she’d heard your voice in what felt like forever. And it should have been enough, should have at least been something…but all it did was make the craving worse. By the middle of May, it wasn’t just missing you anymore. It was the fucking need to be near you. To hear you, see you, remind you. You were hers. Maybe not in title, maybe not in the way that counted, but in the way that mattered. The way that had you crying over Jess like she was anything but a placeholder. Had you really convinced yourself that could work? That you could let someone else hold you, touch you, love you, and it wouldn’t kill Abby?

✈︎ The months of no contact had been unbearable. It had started as self-control, as some forced attempt at respecting your space. But that only lasted so long. In March, she was checking your socials even though she swore she wouldn’t. By April, she was driving past places she knew you’d be, lingering just long enough to catch a glimpse. By May, she was watching from a distance, skimming through the updates Nora reluctantly fed her, knowing just how little it would take for her to snap.

✈︎ And then there was Jess. She never liked the girl, not before, not during, and sure as hell not after. But Abby hadn’t planned on doing anything about it. She really hadn’t. Not until she started digging, until she found out just how easy it was to get a student kicked out on an academic violation. A quiet meeting with the right people. A few forwarded emails. Some conveniently “anonymous” tips about stolen coursework and recycled essays. Abby didn’t have to fabricate much, just bend the truth enough to make it work. And just like that, Jess was gone. Now you were alone again.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ Fucked up or not, that’s where you needed to be. How else would she get you back at her side? This was the only sound way in her mind. She knew you. Knew how your mind worked, how your walls crumbled when you felt alone. Jess had been a barrier. a flimsy one, but a barrier nonetheless. And now, with her gone, there was nothing standing between you and the inevitable. But you weren’t making it easy. You weren’t running to her. You were ignoring her. Avoiding places she knew you’d be. Not answering texts. It was driving her insane.

✈︎ So when the opportunity came, she took it. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was sheer luck—either way, it landed you both in the same place, at the same time, alone. Maybe you had nowhere else to go. Maybe you had just gotten tired of avoiding the unavoidable. Either way, when she found you, you were right there. And Abby wasn’t going to waste it.

✈︎ The day was supposed to be a distraction. A moment to breathe, to reset. Your mother had suggested shopping. Insisting that fresh air, a few new things, and some time together would do you good. You weren’t convinced, but you went along with it anyway. The stores were bright, bustling with early summer sales. The scent of perfume lingered in the air, mingling with fresh leather and the crinkling of shopping bags. A deep sigh fell from your lips as you turned in the dressing room mirror. The dress was pretty, flattering even. But you didn’t feel satisfied. You hadn’t in months.

✈︎ Your mother picked through racks of clothes, occasionally holding something up with a questioning glance. You humored her—nodding at some, cringing at others with hideous patterns you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. Then, somewhere between aisles and casual conversation, she brought her up.

“You know, relationships don’t always work out, sweetheart,” she said, folding a blouse over her arm. “And that’s okay. You learn, you grow… and eventually, you find the right person.” You swallowed hard, pretending to be interested in something on the opposite rack.

“She never really fit with you,” your mother added after a moment. “Not like—” She hesitated. “Not like before.”

Your fingers tensed around the jewelry stand. Not like before. You knew exactly who she meant. Why was everyone so obsessed with the idea of you being happy with her? That grip. the one keeping you away, keeping you angry, was loosening with each mention.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” you said, forcing a small smile as you grabbed something—anything—to change the subject. Your mother exhaled softly but didn’t push. By the time you both stepped out of the store, the sun had dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the parking lot. You felt… lighter. Like, for the first time in days, you could breathe without feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you.

✈︎ Then, suddenly, that relief was gone. The corners of your mouth fell when you saw her. Blonde-ish hair, free from its usual neat, pulled-back state. Bumping broad shoulders with a man you knew all too well. A few feet away, standing beside Jerry, Abby was right there. Your stomach dropped. She looked good. Too good. Broad shoulders squared, arms crossed loosely, wearing that damn tank top she always used to work out in. like she hadn’t spent the last few months unraveling you from a distance.

✈︎ The blue sky seemed to tint red with panic. Your chest tightened. Your breathing became shallow. You needed a paper bag, something, because suddenly, you forgot how to breathe. Your smile vanished. Without thinking, you turned sharply, grabbing your mother’s arm in an attempt to pull her away. But it was too late. She had already seen them. Oh god. You felt like you’d combust if you had to hold a real conversation with her—let alone her father.

“Oh! Jerry?” Your mother’s voice lifted with surprise. “Is that you?”You went stiff. Like rigor mortis had set into your still-alive body. Refusing to turn back around.

Flashes of the last few months invaded your mind. the weight of Abby’s stare pressing against your back, the feeling of knowing she was watching, even when you hadn’t looked. She saw you. You didn’t need to turn around to know.

“Well, this is a small world,” your mother continued, oblivious to the tension locking your body in place. “It’s been ages. How have you both been?”

There was a pause then he spoke up. “We’ve been good,” Jerry answered smoothly. “Keeping busy.”

✈︎ The warm weight of your mother’s hand settled on your shoulder, gently turning you around. All you saw were shoes. Polished. Expensive. White shoelaces. The conversation continued, but you weren’t present. Your mother nudged you lightly, expecting you to say something.You didn’t. Instead, you stared at the pavement, heart hammering against your ribs, praying for this moment to end. And Abby, just stared at you. Taking you in. Her eyes flickered over your slightly changed appearance. like she was trying to memorize every part of you all over again. She hadn’t spoken yet. Neither had you. Not a single word. But she didn’t have to. You could feel her, standing just close enough that the air between you felt thin. Like there wasn’t enough for the both of you.

Your mother, oblivious, turned toward you with a light laugh. “Oh, honey, you used to spend so much time at their place. It’s been ages, hasn’t it?”

Don’t do this. Please don’t do this. You repeated in your head.

“And Abby—” she smiled warmly at her, completely missing the way you stiffened. “You girls must be so busy these days, I haven’t seen you two together in forever.”

“Yeah,” Abby’s voice cut through the air, lower than you remembered. “Feels like forever.”

✈︎ That broke something in you. That hint of sadness contrasted the malice of her actions. some you knew of, the rest she banked on you never knowing. Your hands clenched at your sides, jaw tightening as you forced yourself to lift your gaze. And there she was. Standing there like she hadn’t wrecked you. Like she hadn’t spent the last few months pushing, pulling, destroying you piece by piece. But there was something else in her eyes, something raw. Something almost… afraid. Your throat felt tight. You wanted to say something. Wanted to scream, or cry, or demand to know why she was even here, standing in front of you like this.

Why was this relationship so hard to let go of?

Your mother, always oblivious to the tension building between the two of you, started talking to Jerry, pulling him toward the entrance of the store. Her voice faded into the background as they moved farther away, leaving you and Abby standing there, the weight of everything between you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence felt like it was choking you.

✈︎ Every time you tried to forget about her, move on to something healthier, new, it seemed to fall apart. New friends, relationships, even simple bonds. The universe was closing doors, and leaving hers open. This was suffocating, and Abby knew it. She had you right where she wanted you. Exhausted, worn down. Weeks of her poking, prodding, and waiting. Now, here you were, standing in front of her. Jessica had broken up with you. The flowers she sent, the empty apology, had left a sour taste. She wasn’t the one, but it didn’t stop you from feeling the sting. And now? You were standing here with Abby, who knew exactly how to push you to the edge and keep you there. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to scream, to slap her away from you, but you didn’t have the strength. She knew it. She was watching you, waiting for the breaking point. Her words, like always, like she hadn’t just put you through hell, greeted the air like a whisper, but they were so much louder than anything else. Everything else.

And then, Abby’s composure finally cracked. Her voice came out strained, almost a whisper. “Please… I need you to understand, I..” she began.

You stood frozen, cold to the touch. not sure what to do with the raw desperation in her tone. Abby ran a hand through her hair, her usual confidence slipping away as she tried to make eye contact with you. Her expression softened, and you could see how much she was holding back.

“I know,” she continued, her voice breaking slightly, “I messed up. And I’ve been trying to give you space, but it feels like every time I take a step back, I’m just losing you. And it’s killing me.”

You blinked, the words catching you off guard. Abby, the one who always seemed so certain, so controlled. was this really her? You saw something in her eyes you hadn’t noticed before: fear. Fear of losing you.

“Abby…” you started, but your voice faltered. She took a shaky step toward you, her hands trembling slightly.

“Please, just… please, I know I’ve hurt you. I know I don’t have the right to ask for anything from you right now, but I need you to know I’m not giving up. Not on you. Not on us. I don’t know how to fix everything, but I need you to at least let me try.” Her eyes were wide, searching yours for any sign that you were hearing her, that you were even still there with her. It felt like she was pleading, not just with words, but with everything she had left. You could feel the tension in your chest, the anger, the hurt. but her vulnerability… it made you hesitate. feeling the familiar weight settle in your chest. You had told yourself, over and over, that you were done. That Abby was in the past, that this cycle of push and pull had to end. And yet, here you were, standing in front of her, listening to her say all the right things in the exact way she knew would make you hesitate. her shoulders tense, her hands twitching at her sides like she wanted to reach for you but was too scared to. Abby Anderson, scared?

“I don’t know how to fix everything,” she had said. But she was going to try. You knew she would. She always did. The same exhaustion that had been weighing on you for weeks settled deeper into your bones. Maybe you could fight this. Maybe you could run. Maybe you could push her away again. But right now, standing here with her, you were just so tired. Right now, She wasn’t the one who had pushed you away and then dragged you back into her orbit. No, this was the Abby who needed you. The Abby who had been broken and lost, and somehow, you felt yourself faltering. That small sliver of stability you had been gripping onto felt as fragile as that clear vase. the one you shattered in a moment of heartbreak, the shards still wedged in the cracks of your flooring. No matter how many times you tried to sweep them away, they remained, catching the light, reminding you they were still there. Just like Abby. Just like the way she had made a home in your heart, no matter how many times you tried to evict her.

And for the first time in months,

you didn’t have the strength to pull away. Restarting that cycle.

Update: I’ve thought about it…give me a few, part 3 will be coming.