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[mercy-burning]

(3) the trilogy. || THE DOCTOR.

in which the doctor finds the landlord's favorite missing trilogy of books on a quiet, snowy day... content: strong language, allusions to sex, kissing, fade to black fingering) word count: 3.6k

series masterlist | main masterlist

NOTE: Lots of fun stuff to come with these two soon! They're my favorite <3

———

On the days where Spencer is snowed inside, the perfect remedy should be a couple of books by the fireplace, but the fireplace is quite frankly impossible to keep up with (he never knows how much wood he actually needs and despite how many times he's tried, he swears the matchbook he has is faulty. It never starts.) And, he's read through all of the books he brought with him. Three times each.

The library is an option on a normal day, but the snowfall is so extreme that Stanton had called his house earlier in the morning to inform him that everyone had been requested to hold off on getting sick or injured until the Doctor was safe to leave his home. Sardinia is locked down for the day, he went on to explain, until the crew he'd called in to plow the roads with their heavy and capable machinery could tend to them.

For a town as small as this one, Spencer had just assumed everyone would have figured out how to manage heavy snow without calling in reinforcements. It's human nature, after all, to adapt to your surroundings and make do with what you have if not to develop a solution.

And then he looked outside, and he understood. He couldn't even see white. It was gray—the most snow he'd ever seen, caking every window and blocking him inside.

He spent a solid two hours scraping what he could off the windows and away from the door, until he created a pocket of light from the window above the couch and gave up on the rest. The wind at least had died down, the only noise available to him being his breathing and the creaks of the floor as he walked around. The sun was bright and it was above freezing, so he figured that should help melt what little bit he couldn't manage to scrape away. He showered, fought with the fireplace for another twenty-minutes out of pure boredom, and then gave up on that, too, thankful that the house had electric heating and the fireplace was merely for aesthetic purposes if nothing else.

And now, he sits on the couch, mindlessly thumbing through a book he's already read and wishing he had something else to keep him busy. Boredom only leads to wandering thoughts, and whenever he allows them to, they veer off into the inevitable direction of his landlord. Which only makes him more restless.

The very moment her beautiful, swollen and kissed-out lips enter the periphery of his brain, Spencer pushes himself off the couch and forces his legs to do the wandering instead. He doesn't even care where, he just needs to walk.

She'd been avoiding him since then—until she came to visit to have her stitches removed, and then she avoided him again. Their meeting then had been professional and straightforward, she jokingly handed him a ten-dollar bill for his trouble, and then she went home. He'd debated bringing up the kiss, maybe apologizing, but he also didn't want to risk poking the bear when, in the moment, the bear seemed relatively mollified. It was safe to assume they could silently move past it and remain civil, if not friendly, so that's what he did. He never brought it up, and they simply existed in each others' lives as background characters. No harm, no foul.

It admittedly saddens him a little, that familiar glorious fire in his body slowly dying out day by day without her spark to feed it, but... it's also safe. Given his temporary arrangement, that is exactly what he needs; Zero complications.

Still, it hadn't completely prevented his thoughts from wandering... He can't help it.

But damn it, he tries so hard.

Like now, as his feet pace back and forth along the hallway connecting his living room to the two little bedrooms on the opposite side of the cabin home. His eyes scan the oak paneling on the wall, finding it odd that one board is out farther than the others. It's not a vast difference, and to anyone walking down the hallway, it wouldn't stand out at all. But since his eyes are scanning everything with intent, something that small is impossible to unsee once it's been seen.

Spencer comes closer to inspect the wood, running his fingers along the grain when he feels the board shift a little. He presses harder, then tries with both hands to wiggle it out of place as he inspects the entire board from floor to ceiling.  Eventually, he notices that the nails holding it in place are extremely rusted and barely holding the board upright.

"She has to have a toolbox hidden in this place somewhere..." he ponders, turning to search.

After finding no luck in any of the cabinets, under the kitchen or bathroom sinks, or in the coat closet, he walks back to the guest bedroom and rummages through all the knitted blankets he's collected. For a while it's like he'd find one every time he entered a new area of the cabin that he hadn't explored. A few of them lay draped over the living room furniture now, but to keep the place organized to his liking, he just haphazardly folded and piled them into the guest bedroom closet, not thinking to see if there had been anything else in there.

Sure enough, once the shelves in there are completely clear of fabric, Spencer looks all the way on the highest one and can see a small pile of something shoved in the back. He reaches for it, hoping for something useful but finding only a stack of—

Books!

Not what he'd come in here for, but he isn't about to complain. Especially since he'd really just been so bored that he went in search of a tool box to fix the most negligible problem this house could possibly have.

He flips one over and sees the words, "Agent of Seduction," embossed over a couple in embrace. There are two more, "Agent of Passion," and, "Agent of Retribution."  Their covers are worn and well-loved, pages yellowed and creased, the spines barely readable. As he quickly fans through the pages, expelling the dust from its home between them, he wonders how there are even pages left. It looks (and smells, to be quite frank) like it should be falling apart at the seams.

It doesn't look like what he'd typically reach for, but... It's new. And since he really has nothing else to do...

Spencer sits down on the floor of the closet, nestled between piles of blankets, and opens to the first page of Agent of Seduction.

———

Dear Mom,

Today I might have stumbled onto the scariest story I've ever read. Not because it contains ghosts or horrors so intense that it gives you nightmares, but because of how accurately one major aspect parallels my current situation, as if I don't already feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't entirely believable, especially where the crime-solving aspects are concerned. In fact, it seems like the author had merely watched something on TV and thought, "That doesn't look too hard to make up!" and thus, "Agent of Seduction" was born...

However, I'd be lying if I said I didn't get spooked by just about everything else.

The basic premise is that FBI Agent Samuel Stern must go into hiding to protect his identity from one of the most dangerous criminals the Bureau has ever encountered. In creating this brand new life for himself, he meets a woman named Rachel West, who he falls in love with. She's feisty and quick-witted, and when Samuel's past comes straight towards them like a freight train, she refuses to jump out of the way (much to Samuel's annoyance). Their relationship is built solely on fire—mutual attraction and nothing else—but while they're on the run together throughout the three books, they learn to open up and be vulnerable in a way that only enriches their feelings and the desire to truly love and be loved in return.

By now, you already know about my very own Rachel West, my landlord and the woman I can't stop thinking about... A lot of Samuel's inner monologue about her was extremely close to, if not exactly the same as, my inner monologue about Y/N. At one point near the end of the second book, Rachel gets kidnapped, and the final installment follows Samuel's journey to find her and finally exact his revenge on the criminal who has taken everything from him.

Inevitably, this journey leads Samuel to the grand realization that he's in love with Rachel, and after they finally reunite, the two of them live happily ever after.

Unfortunately, it was rather riveting.

Given the obvious major parallel here, you can also probably understand why it's spooked me. The details behind Samuel's "vacation" aren't necessarily the same as my own, but the mere fact that he works for the FBI and is protecting his identity far away from home... That in and of itself is far too much of a coincidence.

I know it's fiction. I know that real life is different from Samuel's... But I saw something in his story and in his relationship with Rachel that filled that hole of misunderstanding deep in my gut, and while I enjoyed myself for the most part, I also, unfortunately, have come to realize that I can never let myself pursue the fire and fall in love with Y/N.

I won't let her be tainted by my real life. Because if evil does, somehow, penetrate the snowy, magical borders of Sardinia and dig its claws into the purity within, there's no telling what I would do.

I can't let it happen.

———

Y/N loves snow days. Surprisingly, Sardinia doesn't see a whole lot of them— not like this anyway. It's rare that the entire town is on standby, but on the occasion that it is, she locks herself away on the back porch and watches the snow fall through the glass. It's cold, but she doesn't mind. She prefers it— hasn't known anything else, nor has she ever longed to.

The sun has started to set, and with the promise of oven-ready lasagna in just a couple of minutes, there isn't anything that could possibly dampen her perfect Sunday.

She only wishes she could figure out where she left her favorite trilogy. On snow days like these, especially back when she was in Junior High (the act of hiding them from her grandmother making the lure of the story even better, of course), reading Agent of Seduction was her favorite pastime. She'd read the entire trilogy back-to-back at least twenty times by this point, so she probably could have had it memorized. In fact, there are scenes that she has memorized, though nothing ever compares to reading them word for word.

At one point a few years ago, she'd accused her grandmother of stealing and selling them, though the woman denied it with a howling laugh. "I never gave a shit about what you read. Hell, if only you knew some of the books I hid from my mother when I was a teenager..."

At the thought of her grandmother, Y/N sighs, wishing she'd had the courage to ask her about them. The memory of cringing and quickly changing the subject is standard and funny, sure, but she hadn't known there wouldn't be much time left to even think about asking those questions.

Now, she doesn't have her grandmother or her favorite trilogy, and all she's left with is an emptiness that she hopes soon to fill with noodles and cheese.

Instead of the oven chime, three loud knocks sound at the front door, jolting her out of her reverie, and Y/N sighs again.

So much for a perfect Sunday...

Who the hell could possibly be knocking on her door today? The whole town is on lockdown... Only an idiot would be brave enough to—

"Doctor?"

Spencer's figure, sure enough, stands before her in a backdrop of golden, glittering white. His coat is caked in snow and he seems to be drowning in layers and layers of scarves, a plastic bag hanging from his hand as he manages a stiff smile; He's freezing.

"What the hell are you doing here? Don't you know the entire town is o—"

"On lockdown, yes. I know. But I brought you something."

Her instincts are telling her to usher him inside, but there's a fear that freezes her instead. Once she lets him inside on a snow day, there's no telling how long he'll stay. And those are consequences she would rather not discover today.

"Oh?" is all she can manage.

Spencer holds the bag out and she takes it. "I found these in your—er, my closet. I don't know if they belonged to you or not, but I figured it was a safe bet since it was your house... Anyway, I just... I thought I'd return them."

Opening the bag, hearing him explain, and seeing the familiar tattered cover of her favorite book all at once is like a fever dream. She almost can't believe it. In a whirlwind of emotions, she grabs the doctor by the jacket sleeve and tugs him inside without a sound, and he stumbles through the door with a start.

"What's wrong?"

"You're a fucking wizard."

"Excuse me?"

Her shaking hands gently retrieve the paperbacks from the plastic as he shuts the door behind him. She doesn't even care that he's technically been invited inside now.

Unbeknownst to her, as she fans through the pages just as he had when he found them, the sight brings a gentle smile to his lips.

"I was just thinking about these books a few minutes ago... I used to read them every snow day, over and over again to keep my mind occupied..." Then she laughs, shaking her head. "I thought I'd lost them for good. They were in your closet?"

"Mhm. Guest bedroom, all the way on the top shelf, in the back. I was looking for some blankets, a—"

"You didn't read them, did you?"

Her head snaps up and Spencer blinks at her for a moment before carefully answering, "No."

Something about it feels off to her. They stare at each other now, and suddenly she realizes the gravity of the situation, which is that he stands in her house, claiming not to have read her favorite books (which are sexually explicit in nature), even though his face clearly claims otherwise. He had brought them to her house during a weather lockdown of all days, right after she'd just been thinking about them, and she felt so grateful in the moment that the thought of kissing him on the mouth seemed like the perfect gesture of gratitude.

Obviously, there is only one outcome.

He needs to leave, now, before she does something stupid.

"You probably wouldn't like them anyway."

"Oh?"

The beguiled look on his face practically begs for elaboration, but she's not currently in the business of giving him one.

"Thank you for bringing them to me," she says, hoping to suggest finality and get him out the door. "I haven't had an entire night with no obligations to sit down and read these books in years. I'm way overdue."

He only stares back at her, his gaze unwavering in intensity. If he's disappointed at all, he doesn't show it in the least. She's afraid he might try to banter or take off his jacket, but in the end, the doctor only gives her a gentle nod.

"You're welcome."

A flood of different sensations come racing through her body then, as Spencer turns to leave; Relief that he's relenting, excitement to finally have and hold her favorite story again, hot tension under the residual potency of his staring, and the nagging feeling that whatever wildfire the two of them seem to have made together isn't actually anywhere close to being extinguished.

The door opens, swallowing the doctor in a halo of light, and just before he closes it behind him, he calls over his shoulder, "Enjoy yourself, my dear."

The paperbacks suddenly feel heavy in her hands. She almost drops them to the ground, cursing his name.

------------------------

"Go away!"

Samuel's heart nearly shattered at the crack in her voice. He couldn't bear to witness his dear Rachel and her burning flame slowly dwindle under the suffocation of his true identity. His real life, once again, had attempted to take away everything he held dear to him, and he would be damned if he let it succeed this time.

"Rachel, please! You have to have to understand, I hated having to lie to you!"

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" she screeched, whipping around and snarling in his face. Alas, her fire remained, though it was unmistakably fueled by scorching pure rage and not the low-simmering wicked desire he's come to crave and adore. The pain in his heart worsened as she jabbed his chest, a fragile reminder of the new life she's breathed into him and the steady ache to protect it at all costs. "You're just like every other man I've ever met, except you might actually be worse! You put me in danger, and then spared me the details! And for what, so you could play the savior and 'protect' me? Huh?"

"You don't understand..."

"Then make me understand!"

The truth was that he couldn't let her go. No matter how annoyingly stubborn she proved herself to be, Samuel could not resist the warmth that settled in his bones when she touched him. He could not sit back and tell himself that she meant nothing to him when every time she quirked her eyebrow, he felt the overwhelming need to know everything she's ever felt. He wanted to know her. He wanted to experience her, in every single facet.

But he also didn't want his life to destroy her.

"It is killing me... Every day it kills me to know that the man who took everything from me and ruined my life is out there, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it... It kills me to be away from home, and it kills me to have to pretend like I'm not filled with unbridled rage every time I wake up... It kills me to know that I've let myself get attached to someone else, because it just means that's one more thing for him to destroy. But... God, Rachel, you've fucking set this fire in me that I can't put out. You're so sharp and strong and funny and beautiful, and you're so fucking stubborn... You're breaking down every defense I have, piece by piece, and for both of our safety, I should just let it go... But I can't..."

Her hardened stare hadn't eased, but her hands started a slow, gentle ascent over the planes of his stomach, up and up until they rested on his chest.

Samuel pressed one of her hands firmly to his heart. "Do you feel that, Rachel?"

"Your heartbeat?" she asked sarcastically through her teeth, her eyebrow quickly flinching upward.

"Yes. What you're feeling there is your work, and your work alone."

Unsurprisingly, Rachel snorted. Still, her fingers flexed over the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer. "It's not healthy to put all that credit onto someone, you know. It could do irreparable damage."

It was true, but she was being snarky, as always. Which meant she must not have hated him as much as she was letting on.

Samuel took that as a good sign, deciding to allow himself to be cocky. He stared deep into her eyes and brought a hand to her throat, gently grazing it with the back of his knuckle. "So? Tell me I haven't already ruined you beyond repair..."

Rachel hummed and leaned into him, never one to turn down a challenge. "Says the man who just bared his soul out to me with tears in his eyes five seconds ago... Sounds like I'm the one who's ruined you."

Their breaths were so close together now, noses barely touching, Samuel didn't have time to process the look in her eyes before he said, "And now you understand," relenting and kissing her deeply.

She clutched his shirt so hard, he thought she might literally tear it to shreds in front of him as her devilish mouth battled him with a strength of its own. Rachel was fighting, even now, desperate to hold onto that power and control. And that was all fine and good, usually, but Samuel felt it in his bones that this time it was different.

Things between them now were different, and they always would be.

Whether he could put a name to that difference he didn't know, but he didn't care. He just wanted her to really truly understand how important she was to him, without the fight.

She had complete control over him, but she didn't need to prove it.

Samuel could do that on his own.

He backed her into the wall and brought her hands to her sides, inching languid, wet kisses down her jawline. Never in their time together had he been so gentle in control, so slow... Fire left no time for meticulous passion, only quick, sharp lust.

"What are we doing?" she breathed, rolling her body into him. "What is this?"

"I meant it, Rachel," Samuel vowed into her neck, his hand deftly undoing the button of her pants. "You're changing me... Giving me something to live for again..."

A soft gasp escaped her as he slid his hand smoothly down the front of her pants, and he reveled in the sound. The moment his fingers breached her entrance, she melted into him, crying out in a whimper.

"That's right," he sighed into her neck. "Enjoy yourself, my dear..."

[causenessus]

HIT 30 TAGS ONCE AGAIN MY LAST TAG WAS JUST GOOD LUCK ON YOUR AP CLASSES MWAH I LOVE YOU RYE THIS WAS SO GOOD YOU'RE THE BEST <3 I LOVE MAC DEMARCO I LOVE YOU!!

the night shift — slow down

day 5 | masterlist | day 7

now playing: heart to heart by mac demarco

"you're late," she hums, with a lilt of tease and jest. she doesn't look up at him. the jingle of the doors opening cues her into fixing her posture, her spine fitting into the shape of her chair. he watches the action but can't quite process it, too overwhelmed with all the sweat and clothes and hair sticking to his skin.

an apology falls from chapped lips instinctively. he slips into the space behind the counter and discards his jacket from his figure, haphazardly throwing it into the break room before taking his usual seat beside her. "practice ran overtime," he heaves out as soon as he settles into his spot. like routine.

it's a slow day. the night shift is busy, for the most part, but there are the rare handful of days where the store is stagnant. they're silent, save for the hums of the heater and the refrigerators and the wind outside the window, and compared to the last shift they'd worked together, it's not so tense. it's light, almost, the burden of unspoken words and misdirected emotions no longer weighing heavily on their shoulders. he basks in it, just for a moment, before she gets up from her chair to busy herself with something, anything to escape the stasis. he follows suit.

restocks are her favorite task, he's noticed. it's her go-to to pass time, when her hands don't know what to do with themselves and her mind runs rampant. the boxes sit beside the snack shelves, the tape sliced open and the flaps lifted, ready to be emptied and organized. his shoulder brushes against hers briefly as he situates himself next to her, leaning into the depths of the first shipment and handing each product to her one by one. they fall into a slow, steady system. he passes. she places.

"remind me why you didn't go pro?" she questions almost a bit too loudly, failing to consider whether or not she's breaching a checkpoint that she isn't meant to pass yet. she notices the stutter in his movements, the flicker of a hitched breath, the avoidant stare. the perspiration still sticks to his forehead from before, evidence of the effort he had been putting into practice moments before clocking in.

kageyama stands, his shoulders rolling back and the bones popping slightly. an inhale through his nose, an exhale through his mouth, and he droops, as if physically bearing the mental baggage of what she presumed to be his passion. "i burned out, i think," he starts. it's barely there, barely audible. "i think i was also just scared. i was becoming someone i didn't recognize, so," he pauses. "i dropped it."

i think, i think, i think, as if he was still unsure in a decision he made years ago. she leans against the shelf with one shoulder, her eyes fixed on his while he fidgets with a bag of candy. "do you regret it?"

"sometimes," he whispers, almost sheepishly. "i do want to seek help for it. yachi recommended therapy, but," he pauses again, placing the candy in his palms into hers. he wills his mind into ignoring the way her hand ghosts over his, but his body can't seem to follow suit, with the ticklish feeling running through his palm and the dusting of pink on the corners of his ears (it's only visible if you look hard enough). the bag is set up neatly on the shelf, in line with all the others of its kind. "id want someone i know to listen to me. someone who actually knows me, not someone who's forced to."

she doesn't ask any more -- she knows not to. her shoes squeak against the tile as she makes her way to the next row, kageyama following behind her with the cart of boxes. they fall back into routine. he passes. she places. again, and again, and again, until it's muscle memory, so much so that they just barely miss the chime of the doors opening.

the pair from across the street -- none other than her two favorite new grounds employees (and his, though he'd never admit that) -- waltz into the building, steaming hot coffees cusped between their gloved hands and thick, wooly scarves (matching, of course) wrapped around their necks. "we thought we'd visit," yamaguchi explains first, taking his and yachi's drinks and placing them on the counter as if the place were their own. "it's slow tonight, and i think i'd rather kill myself than make small talk with our boss."

the two rid themselves of their garments -- the scarves, the coats, the gloves -- and just like the coffee, it all finds itself splayed across the counter.

a warmth spreads through her chest at the sight. it comes again when they all sit behind the register, two spare plastic chairs pulled out for the newfound company. and it rises once more when they all laugh in unison, the sound reverberating in both the store and her heart. it trickles up from the bottom of her ribcage to the top of her head, and with each pass it makes, she feels even lighter.

she wonders where it all was before. the white-hot glow of everything around her washes over the burden of being once riddled in her bones, and she questions the bigger picture that had consumed her life before: the false yearning for what once was, the reminiscence, the overbearing memory of someone that isn't quite her. a soft breath falls from her tongue, and another, and another, and another.

ᡣ𐭩 sooo cheesy LOL. but i loved when i first thought of this chapter bc the vibes were so cute and warm and i needed it to be in this series

ᡣ𐭩 updates r obvs going much slower be of school..... i need to be shot before APs kill me (AP phys and AP calc bc i will always hate you)

ᡣ𐭩 kageyama very often comes in sweaty from practice. do with that what u will

ᡣ𐭩 it's not very common for yachi n yams to come into the store at all. to kind of clarify the relationship btwn yachi yams and yn, it's like online they're oomfs and irl theyre just moots. do u catch my drift. in all srs yn is the one to visit them more often (bc it's new grounds, duh) which is kind of what sparked the household connection (outside of kenhina)

ᡣ𐭩 it's ALSO not very common for kageyama to be asked about the decision that sort of haunts his entire life. his roommates know it's a sore topic, and they were also there when the decision was made, and hinata brings it up way too much already, and it's just such an awkward conversation that they try not to pry too far. which is both great and horrible for kags, bc while he doesn't necessarily want to talk about it all the time (again, the theme of running away from his problems), he knows that bottling it up doesn't help at all

ᡣ𐭩 am i projecting? i guess we'll never know!

ᡣ𐭩 as i'm typing this i'm realizing that i need to finish mezzo forte (might discontinue it to be honest but ARGHHGHGHSD its so close to ending)

ᡣ𐭩 the fall of mezzo forte is like my fall of the roman empire. but this isn't about mezzo forte this is about the night shift

taglist: @causenessus @strawberryurii @iiwaijime @savemebrazilhinata @tiramizuloz @conrad4life13 @wyrcan @zazathezaer @nperoconelcositoarriba @cupidsblonde @thechaosoflonging @diorzs @aozui @fefesooli

[konigsblog]

tw: rape/noncon, kidnapping

note: merry christmas :3 i have a few christmas themed posts for you guys! hope you enjoy <3 photo credit: @ave661

kidnapper könig's christmas surprise 🎁.

you've been locked away down in the basement for months on end, without sunlight and only the smell of dust keeping you company. of course, he visits you. calming you when you scream for him to get away. he's always by your side, compensating for his horrors.

you've lost track of time, you don't remember the last time you saw sunlight, let alone a calendar to tell you the date. occasionally you'd ask him what day it was, but könig had a theme, where he'd lie about the day to fuck with your head and confuse you with time, telling you that it was saturday, when he told you yesterday that it was wednesday. you're so easily worked up; so incredibly sensitive, that you can't help but cry when something goes wrong or confuses you. a shell of the person you used to be.

and because he's so mean to you, you're surprised when you're awoken to the sound of könig coming downstairs, with a heavy, filled sack over his shoulder. you're confused, eyes blurry before they focus, whimpering from exhaustion.

“merry christmas, my dear.” he mutters quietly, your eyes fill with tears, realising how long you've truly been here... he hands you a gift from the sack, encouraging you to open it. slowly, you tug at the ribbon, his eyes never leaving your frame. you remove the bow, before tearing open the wrapping paper and opening the small box. inside, there was a pair of handcuffs.

confused, you cocked your head to the side, looking at könig with curious eyes. “this is useful for your other gifts, little mouse. open this one.” he hands you another box, similar size to the last one. you slowly open it again. pulling the box and opening it to find a ball gag this time. you whimper, feeling könig's hands grab your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“be good for me, liebling...” he huffs out, grunting while you struggle. using the handcuffs, he binds your wrists together, chuckling when he has you restrained on the ground. you use your feet, useless as the large man grips your ankles, cursing at you in muffled german.

könig puts the ball gag around your head, muffling your noises. he flipped you around and onto your stomach, pulling your hips into the air so that you were forced into a downwards doggy position. using the ribbons from your presents, he tied your ankles together tightly into a knot, a chilling smile plastered on his face at the sight.

another gift was taken from the large sack könig had came into the basement with. he opened it, smiling at you the entire time. he watched as your eyes glistened and widened when he pulled out a sex toy — specifically a large dildo. you, of course, squealed and wriggled, earning yourself a painful spank to your tight ass.

he placed himself behind you and pulled your light blue panties down, chuckling and taunting you the entire time. könig just wanted to show his devotion as your kidnapper, how he'd fuck you in the future, and how your body no longer belonged to you but instead him. he toyed with the dildo; dragging it up your slit, collecting your slick juicies on the toy. you cried out, sobs muffled with the ball gag, leaving you shaking like a leaf.

“oh, meine liebling... won’t you understand?” he sighs out, still rubbing the tip of the dildo against your cunt. your eyes filled with tears, beginning to spill down your cheeks. “i just want to train this pretty hole to take my cock, prinzessin.” he begins to push inside, filling your tight pussy with the large toy. you're so tight — unused and inexperienced that you can't help but cry our shakily, whimpering at the sensation pulling at your core.

each thrust he makes with the toy is agony for your unprepared cunt, leaving you swollen and sore as he continues with his assault. pained cries echo throughout the basement, along with the sounds of könig's cruel, taunting laughter. you begin to feel your body reacting against you, your pussy becoming wetter and wetter the more he pushes inside, and your nipples perking. he rubs your clit, small circles leaving you an utter mess, and your orgasm approaching and waiting to happen.

you're stunned, muscles tensing and core tightening as your orgasm comes crashing down onto you. only the feeling of your kidnapper's bulge keeping you from giving in to his needs. you tighten around the rubber material, panting heavy, your panties still down your thighs and collecting the droplets of cum running down your pretty, supple thighs. your chest rises and falls as könig begins to unzip his jeans, one hand on your ass, spreading apart your ass cheeks.

fighting against him was useless, whatever he wanted, he got. you were evidence of that. you could squirm all you liked, but regardless of how many times you pleaded and begged for mercy, he'd have his way with you. you felt something hot, something bulbous run over your ass. he humped you sloppily; fucking his cock between your thighs, making a slick mess of your pussy before he would be ruining you and morphing your hole to fit his size.

“stop shaking’... the more you struggle, the more it'll hurt.” the feeling of könig's tip running between your folds was leaving your jaw slack with anticipation and terror, knowing that a man of his size would surely have a cock matching his statue...

he began pushing inside your slit, filling you up inch by inch. broken sobs filled the air, leaving your throat in stuttered moans as he began working his hips against your ass. he rocked his broad hips back and forth, dragging himself in and out to get you slick enough to take him fash and rough. “don’t worry-- you’ll enjoy it, mäusi.” he mocked, teasing you.

he spat a fat glob of saliva between your ass, watching as it ran down to your filled cunt, acting as lube for him to work his way inside. könig was practically splitting you apart on his big, veiny cock; destroying you for his own, selfish needs. a large hand came down to smack your ass, grunting at the pulsing sensation of your gummy walls around the girth of his large dick.

he began quickening his pace, not wasting a minute of his time inside you. könig's hand gripped your bound, tied wrists, tugging at them as he pumped his hot cock into you. the sound of laboured breathing was prominent and audible, groaning hoarsely and gutturally as you continue to clutch and latch onto his thick dick. “go on, little mouse. cry, cry for me to stop.” könig's sick and twisted enjoyment of your pain was depraved; it was filthy for him to get off to your fear like this.

his hand came around to pull the ball gag away from your lips, allowing your sobs to be heard. the impact of his tip against your cervix was agonizing, and he only got harder the faster he drove his hips into your ass. your cunny drooled around him instinctively, betraying you. god, you sure as hell didn't want any of this, this wasn't how your life was supposed to turn out — bruised and broken on the ground of a man's basement — but your body reacted regardless of what you thought; was pleasured by könig's punishments.

you cried loudly, a pained whine flowing from your puffy lips the longer his abuse went on. you were vulnerable when you were tied up; unable to fight him off of you, forced to surrender to his needs and greedy demands. your pussy became wetter, with euphoria dripping from your pretty pussy, allowing könig to fuck into you faster with ease.

pearly, white beads of thick cum began to ooze from könig's tip inside you. falling out into your cunny with each thrust, his potent release getting fucked deeper into your warm, wet walls. forced to listen to the sounds of könig's pleasure as he inflicted pain onto you for his own benefit. “such a bad girl. crying so loudly, that must be you’re desperate for more, ja? with the way your pretty pussy is squeezing my dick like this, i’m sure that's all you need...”

you weeped, sniffling at tears rolled down your tearstained, raw cheeks, burning and painful against your skin. the wind was knocked from your lungs as he pounded into you, silencing you as he fucked his potent arousal deeper into you, cumming with a low grunt when you tightened and throbbed around him one last time, before losing yourself and cumming all down his shaft. you buried your face into the dirty, concrete ground, ashamed and embarrassed to admit that you came all over him.

your dignity and decency was stripped of you, and the only thing you could do was gaze over at the glistening dildo, attempting to cover your pussy from him.

[sweetlywriting]

Another Vincent x reader drabble <3

Thinking about Vincent who literally marries you to mark off a checkbox-It’s the 1960’s and he’s a popular and prestigious chef in his late 30s, both the public eye and his pretentious friends are starting to wonder why he isn’t married?? Along with his unorthodox cooking methods . . . he figures maybe a spouse would take some of his unwanted fame away.

-He observes you for a while and if your life is clean and quiet enough, he offers some sort of bribe in exchange for your hand.

-Of course it’s all for show. He’s super cold at first and it’s almost as though you’re just two people living in the same place.

-He hates how he slowly gets used to you, hates you become a part of his routine, hates how he waits until you come back from work, and hates when he has to eat without you.

-He starts to notice how much he likes you-he misses your presence, keeps note of everything you do, and starts to think of you fondly. At first it disgusts him, though not as much as the thought of you being with someone else.

-He’s a jealous man and so he’ll suck it up and take you on dates and do couple things to ensure you’ll stick around.

-You’re going somewhere? Might as well go with him. You want something? It’s immediately yours.

-The pride he feels for himself? He feels the same pride for you.

-He pushes you to be best you can be, sometimes a little harsh but it’s only because he sees you as an equal.

-Anything against you is directly against him.

-Even if you have differing personalities or perspectives to him you’re both one and the same in his eyes.

-Subtle affection. Makes sure you walk on the right side of the sidewalk, wants you to eat first, stands closer to you in public.

-Cooks all your favorite foods, whenever you visit the restaurant he strays from his rule of only making whats on the menu for you

-While he viewed marriage as a dreadful obligation if slowly turns into something he cherishes with you <3

[eddieschains]

Dream Come True

Older!Eddie X Fem!Reader

credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the older eddie edit <3

Word Count: 2.8k

TW// 18+, age gap (reader is early 20s, Eddie is 50s), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation, face slapping, creampie, let me know if i missed anything!!

It was your parents 25th wedding anniversary. They liked to make a big deal out of it every 5 years, throwing a big party and inviting as many people as they could. You never understood why they couldn’t just go out to dinner alone to celebrate instead of dragging you along to hang out with their old friends. But he made it all worth it.

Eddie Munson. Your dads friend from high school. He was kind of old sure, but he was damn sexy. He had the softest looking long curly brown hair, peppered with just the right amount of grey. The perfect amount of scruff around his face, messy yet neat at the same time. And his arms and chest littered with tattoos.

He played in a metal band that your dad was a part of shortly in college, until he decided he’d rather marry your mom and start a family. Bleh. You had watched all the videos of their shows when he was younger, and while you should’ve been impressed by your dads skills as a musician, you could never take your eyes off of Eddie.

He was still in the band, constantly in LA recording or touring the world. He always made time to visit you and your parents when he was back in Hawkins though. You hadn’t seen him in about 5 years, the last time being your high school graduation, when he could barely keep his eyes off of you. You thought since you were freshly 18 he would finally take you someplace to fuck you raw, but that might’ve just been wishful thinking.

In reality, he didn’t pay much attention to you when he visited. Nothing more than the usual “how have you been” or “how’s school going?”. But, that wasn’t going to stop you from continuing to try and get his attention.

You opted for a short black dress, probably showing a little more cleavage than you usually would, some high heeled boots, and a simple silver necklace. You were in the kitchen of the beach house your parents rented, fixing yourself a drink while you waited for the guests so trickle in.

“Honey, can you greet people at the door and take their coats?” You hear your mom call from the other room. You roll your eyes before taking a sip of your wine and making your way to the door.

You spend the next 30 minutes welcoming all of your parents friends, frustratingly having to answer the same questions over and over and using your best fake laugh to laugh at all of their dad jokes. You were just about ready to leave and scream in the bathroom until you saw the black mustang pull up. Eddie.

You fix you hair and push your boobs up a little more before he makes his way to the door. “Sweetheart.” He bows his head, making his way into the house.

“Eddie.” You do the same. You ask to take his jacket and hang it with the rest. You decide your door duty is over once Eddie arrives, following him into the house. “This is nice. Didn’t know your old man bought a new place.” He says looking around, taking in all the little details.

“Oh it’s not ours, they just rented it for the party. Always need to make a big deal out of their love.” You scoff.

Eddie chuckles, “Marriage is a big deal. You’ll find that out soon enough.”

“No thanks. Marriage is just a big money grab. Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life with the person I love without the governments involvement? Plus it’s harder to get divorced than it is to get married.” You respond.

“You’re a smart girl. What are you studying again?” He asks, genuinely interested.

“Psychology. I graduate in a couple months.” You smile proudly.

“Ah you gonna tug at my brain tonight?” He laughs.

This is your chance to make a move, you think to yourself. “I could tug at something else if you’d like.” You whisper, a smirk on your face.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat. “Uh i’m gonna go say hi to your parents.” He practically runs away. You would’ve been embarrassed by your boldness if you hadn’t noticed the way his cheeks turned red and his legs shook at your words.

You take your place back in the kitchen, avoiding conversation with the large group of people. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Eddie grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Can’t stand being out there any longer without at least one beer.” You chuckle, mumbling in agreement. “When did your parents become so prissy?”

“Oh you mean they haven’t always been like this?” You laugh. “Dad got a promotion a couple years ago so I guess he feels the need to impress them.”

“You should’ve seen him in college, when he was still in the band. He was wild.” Eddie laughs, recalling the memories.

“As wild as you?” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side.

Eddie’s cheeks turn red, “I’m not wild.”

“You expect me to believe that the man who’s been rocking girls panties off for the last 30 years isn’t a wild one?” You step closer to him, hearing how his breathing changes. “I’ve seen what those hands can do.”

“Hey… stop.” You know he only says it because he should, not that he really wants you to.

You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling his ear down to your mouth. “But i’m not wearing any panties.”

Eddie lets a soft moan escape his mouth before running off. “I need to use the restroom.” You’re left in the kitchen, giggling and smirking to yourself, waiting a couple minutes before following him.

You put your head up to the bathroom door, listening to him heavy breathing and muttering curse words under his breath. You open the door, locking it behind you.

“What the fuck?!” He whisper yells. “What are you doing?”

“Oh I thought that was an invitation. You know, tell the girl you’re going to the bathroom, she follows…” You jump up on the sink, spreading your legs a little wider. “And then the guy fucks her brains out on the sink.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, trying his best not to look you in the eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But you want to, don’t you?” You jump off the sink, pulling him towards you. “Don’t think I forgot about the way you were looking at my tits at my graduation party. Or the way your eyes immediately went down to my thighs when I greeted you tonight. You’re a dirty old man, and I want to be your filthy… little… girl.” Your words send shivers down his spine.

“Fuck it.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours. His hands immediately reach for your hips, his fingers digging into them sure to leave marks tomorrow. You wrap your arms around the back of his head, pulling on his hair. He lets out a moan, and you take the opportunity to dip your tongue into his mouth.

He taste just like how you imagined. A mix of tobacco and mint, followed with a slight flavor of the beer he just drank. He removes his mouth from yours, moving down your neck, sucking on that sweet spot just behind your ear. His hands travel down to your ass, squeezing and slapping as he continues his assault on your neck.

You twirl your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into you as you feel the heat between your legs growing more and more intense. He backs you up until your back hits the sink, a whimper leaving your mouth. He lifts the bottom of your dress, exposing your naked cunt.

“Fuck. You weren’t lying.” You chuckle as he continues kissing and sucking your skin, moving further down your body. “You did this because you knew I was coming, huh? Or are you just that much of a whore?”

You moan at his words, loving the way he says it. “Oh you like that? Like when I call you a fucking whore?” You mumble an mm-hmm right as he reaches where you needed him the most. “God you have such a pretty pussy, baby. Mind if I have a little taste?”

“Please.” You whimper, and he dives right in. His tongue drags from your entrance, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, Eddie.” You moan out as his tongue flicks back and forth.

He licks you up and down a few times before focusing on your clit. Attaching his mouth to your aching bud, and sucking it like it was his last meal. You couldn’t speak. It was like he took away your ability to form any kind of words. You’d never felt like this before, never gotten head like this before. He truly was a master, and not just when it came to music.

The filthy sounds of his tongue mixed with your own arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You feel him bring his fingers up to your entrance, playing with it while gathering your wetness. He looks up at you, his mouth still on your cunt, looking for permission to keep going. You nod, and without another word he sinks two fingers into you.

“Oh my- fuck!” You scream out before bringing a hand to your mouth, not wanting to bring attention to what was happening in here. You feel him smile against your pussy, pushing his fingers in and out of you.

His fingers were thick enough, you had no idea how you were supposed to fit, what you assumed, was his even thicker cock. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, not relenting his attack on your clit. He moans into your pussy, sending even more vibrations of pleasure through you. He seemed to really enjoy eating your pussy. Maybe just as much as you were.

He starts to move his fingers faster, flicking his tongue across your clit searching for your orgasm. “Shit, Eddie- Eddie i’m gonna- fuck fuck fuck.” You can’t even make out a cognitive sentence with the pleasure you were feeling.

“Go ahead baby, cum for me. Cum on my face.” That was all you needed to hear before your legs were shaking, closing in on his head as yours was thrown back, cursing his name under your breath.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, softly to help you ride out your high. Once your breathing starts to regulate again, he pulls out, placing soft kisses on your thighs before moving up to your mouth. “You okay?” He asks, pecking your lips.

You nod, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Placing your hand on the crotch of his jeans, you can feel just how much he enjoyed that. You palm at his rock hard cock through his pants, while he moans above you into the kiss.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, continuing to press into him.

“Not gonna last. I need to be inside of you.” He moans, shuffling his pants off as quickly as possible, and you realize that you didn’t have to assume his size anymore. He was big. The biggest you’ve ever seen. Thick too. If you had to picture the perfect dick, he had it.

“Jesus christ.” You mumble, earning a chuckle from him. He spits into his hand, stroking his cock to prepare himself.

“Can I see your tits?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls the straps of your dress off, nearly tearing them, and pushes the top of your dress down so that it’s sitting on your waist. “Oh my god, we’re you created by the gods or something?”

“I was created by your best friend.” You smirk, reminding him of who exactly he was about to fuck.

He groans, twisting his eyebrows up. “Don’t remind me.” He places his hands on your tits, rubbing and squeezing them in circles before catching one in his mouth.

You place your hand on the back of his head as he licks and sucks on your nipple, his hand playing with the other before switching places. Once he’s has enough, he steps back, grabbing onto his cock and sliding it up and down your folds.

“Ready?” He asks as you nod furiously. He slides just the tip in, testing the waters. You wince as he stretches you open. It hurts only for a moment, but the earlier tongue fucking definitely helped you get used to it quicker.

He pushes more of his length in, an inch at a time until his balls hit the back of your ass. “Shit you’re so fucking tight. Could bust right now.” He moans before pulling out slightly, and pushing back in.

You grab onto his biceps for leverage as he picks up the pace. You pull him closer to you, pushing his hair to one side while your lips find his neck. He groans at the feeling, grabbing the back of your neck as he rapidly begins thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my god- that’s it, fuck. Feels so good.” You moan in his ear. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, along with each of your moans. He moves his hands down to your hips, using them to fuck you back into him.

“Who would’ve thought my best friends daughter would be such a filthy fucking whore? Sucking my cock into her pussy like this? God you feel so fucking good on my cock like this.” His words continue to egg you on. You can’t say anything other curse words followed by moans of pleasure as he fucks into you.

You start to feel your high approaching again, embarrassingly quick and he takes notice. He pulls your head into his, pressing your forehead against his. “You gonna cum for me again? Gonna drench my fat cock with your cum? Hmm, baby?” You moan in response, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words, tell me how good i’m making you feel right now.”

You still can’t find the words, and that’s when you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. “Say. It.” He growls, his thrusts speeding up as his thumb takes place on your clit. He rubs perfect circles on your clit while awaiting a response before slapping his palm across your cheek once again. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Say it.”

“Feels so good Eddie. Love the way your cock fills my pussy, gonna make me cum- fuck!” Your body goes limp as your second orgasm crashes over you. Eddie picks you up by your ass, moving your body against the bathroom door.

“That’s right, dirty slut loves the way I feel inside of her.” His body is keeping you up against the door as he continues to fuck into you with a hurried speed, chasing his own high. “How would she feel if I filled her up with my cum?”

All you can muster is a moan, receiving another slap across the face. “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes please Eddie, fill me up. Cum in me. I wanna feel you, please please please.” The overstimulation is almost getting to be too much as you feel a tear slide down your face.

Although, it doesn’t last long as he gives you a couple more hard thrusts before you feel his seed coating your walls. “Fuuuck.” He moans out, his head falling into your neck.

He stills for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his own orgasm before lifting his head to kiss you. He wipes your tears away before slowly sliding out of you and placing you back on your feet.

“You’re something else.” He laughs, pulling his pants back up.

“So are you.” You smile, fixing your dress. “Who knew old dudes like you could fuck so good?”

He shoots you a look, making you giggle. “Don’t tell your parents about this.”

You furrow your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah let me just go down there and let them know their best friend just fucked the shit out of their daughter.” He laughs before exiting the bathroom and returning downstairs to the party.

You wait a couple minutes to follow him, not wanting to be suspected of anything. You make your way to your dad, hoping she didn’t notice that you and Eddie went missing.

“There you are honey. Oh what happened to your dress?” You look down, noticing the tear in your strap. You look over at Eddie, seeing the biggest smirk on his face as he sips his beer.

“Must’ve torn it this morning putting it on.” You respond, avoiding eye contact.

“Well you should go out a jacket on, make yourself look a little put together please.”

You sigh, walking away. “Yes daddy.”

You walk past Eddie as he grabs you arm, whispering in your ear. “Yes daddy.”

[desireangel]

Infernal Desires | Part Two

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Part One

Synopsis: When your family is caught up in treasonous scandal, the Prince Regent makes an offer that is impossible to refuse. To avoid what certainly would have been death by his sword, your family promises you to a man who is followed by whispers of violence and sin.

Warnings: mdni 18+ ONLY! Aemond is conflicted, bad language, some religious guilt if you really squint, some fingering wooop, tension, orgasm denial, inconsistent writing my bad, Aemond's response and defence mechanisms are to fake hatred, this man hates feelings, allusions to sex, allusions to death and killing, again Aemond is angry handsy, a bitch gets slapped bc sometimes violence IS the answer. unedited (shock).

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: look, I know y'all were hoping for an update on Dark Cherry instead but hey, this one happened along first! I have been swamped with work at my new job (LOVE) and an exam that's in two days sooooo this is my apology for the delay in updates for both fics! Lmk your thoughts & ideas - inbox is always open to chat my loves

xoxo kisses!! <3

Masterlist

Weeks had passed and Aemond had been acting as if you were nonexistent. He had ignored your attempts at talking to him, pretended he couldn’t hear the constant questions that you asked about what you were you doing here and why are you here if no formal arrangements to be wed have been made as was promised?

Truth be told, Aemond was having second thoughts. He had acted irrationally in making the deal. Jericho may have been someone he loved as a confidant and a friend but truly, he could have simply had him hanged without blinking an eye. Treason is treason and Aemond certainly would not stand for it but here you were, waiting outside of his own chambers with a fierceness in your eyes that managed to catch him by surprise. 

Without saying a word, Aemond stood in front of you and waited for you to speak. 

“I was supposed to become your wife last week,” You avoided letting your anger at being strung along seep into your tone. “Instead, you have imprisoned me within the walls of the Keep and avoid me like I am some sort of disease.” Stepping towards him, you shook off the nerves that had your stomach in knots. “I tried to visit the town yesterday. Your kingsguard stopped me from leaving. Said you told them that I am not to exit the grounds.”

Aemond was calm. “That is exactly what I told them.”

“You said I could visit home when I please.”

A shrug that had his pin-straight hair dancing softly. “I lied.”

“Well,” you glared at him, staring him down with as much contempt as you could muster. “You best start telling the truth-”

“Do not,” Aemond’s spat, a departure from his usual slow and commanding drawl. You wondered whether he resented you such that he wouldn’t be able to reign back the worst of himself around you. “speak to me like that. I have warned you that I will not tolerate disrespect. Not from the likes of you-”

Your hand met his cheek before you realised what was happening. It wasn’t hard and Aemond barely flinched more than the slight turn of his head but your hand burned hot at the satisfying mistake that had just been made. Pushing down the fear that bubbled in your gut, you squared your shoulders and spoke firmly. “You have me brought here as a bargaining tool for my family’s lives. To force me into wedding you. And now that I am here and we are betrothed, you refuse to do so. Is there honour to your word or are we all to face execution instead?”

You had caught the side of his bad eye and a dull ache pulsed behind his eyepatch. He all but growled, grasping your wrists tightly in his hands and hunching over you, casting a dark shadow across your face. 

Aemond was red with frustration and you were half aware that angering him would not turn out well. But you were not going to cower and fold to the power that he held over you - over everyone. He may be the current ruler of Westeros to its citizens but the two of you had spent some moments of your childhood together and you knew what kind of man he was past the charade of coldness and stoicism. Arrogant, greedy, entitled and selfish. 

He knew that he shouldn’t take your behaviour lightly - that were it anyone else, he’d have dished it right back. But admittedly or not, you had caught Aemond off guard. He wasn’t expecting you to have the gall to hit him. 

Part of him–he would never, ever entertain the fact that it was actually most of him–enjoyed it. Your inability to control yourself and your emotions around him was entirely satisfying. And Aemond loved to watch how you cowered in fear at the realisation of your actions and that he was at all liberty to decide on their consequences. 

All the while, and you couldn’t help but think he looked terrifyingly handsome in his anger, though the right corner of his lips upturned gently. “You should appreciate the generosity I have shown you. I hardly understand how you are making a problem out of this.”

“Generosity?” You scoffed. “You’re keeping me prisoner.”

Aemond’s expression was blank, the strands of hair that had come loose at the swipe of your hand on his cheek casting shadows of his face as he let out a snarl. The leather of his meticulously tailored tunic brushed against your hand and before you knew it, he guided you into his chambers with a strong push that had you stumbling inside.

“Since you’re so ungrateful, I will show you what it means to be a prisoner in my home,” Aemond spoke with a slow, rumbling tone. “You are not to leave without my permission. Try to run away and I will have you punished.”

And with that, he left you to yourself, slamming the door harshly behind him. The click of the lock was barely drowned out by your protests, palms smacking against the wood of the door. 

How dare he? 

Tears welled in your eyes but even in your own company, you refused to let them fall. The ache in your chest for the freedom to visit home, to walk the gardens and to see your friends was overwhelming. You hadn’t been here long and you knew that the Red Keep was a luxury far beyond what you were used to but the feeling of confinement ate you alive. 

This was not fair. You had done him no wrong. In fact, his hatred towards you was entirely unwarranted and everything seemed so, so unfair. His problem wasn’t with you - it was with Jericho and your father. So why did Aemond have so much rage for you? 

If this was to be your prison cell then you were fortunate, you thought. At least he didn’t send you down to the dungeons or to whatever place was made for those who crossed the Prince Regent.   

-

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew Jericho and your father had been lying to you. It made no sense - in fact, it was a ridiculous excuse that they had given you. You weren’t stupid - there was no marriage that could possibly fulfil the extent of Jericho’s debt nor to save your family’s already tarnished reputation.  

So why were you here? You had your own doubts. Not only had you spent the last weeks with little more to do than think but hours had passed alone in this cage since your confrontation with Aemond.

Jericho had said you were only a part of whatever bargain he had struck. You figured that Aemond had use for Jericho and here you were, a token of control over your family. So long as he had you here, Jericho would have to do whatever it was that Aemond needed him to do free of question. 

The sound of the door lock clicking pulled you out of your thoughts. Merylle, the maid who had been assigned to you much to your surprise, didn’t bother knocking before stepping inside with her arms full of–gowns?

“The Prince Regent wishes for me to get you ready,” she said. “You’ll be attending the feast we are hosting tonight.” 

A feast? While we were all at war? 

A message. 

You eyed the gown that Merylle laid down on your bed before rushing towards your wardrobe to put away the others that she held. From what you could see of the gown, it was unlike any dress you’d ever had the chance to wear.

“I am truly to wear this?”

The look she gave was answer enough. “I will run you a bath first. And then I shall help you into the dress.”

You quickly washed up, half tempted to take your time but Merylle was waiting for you and you didn’t intend for her to fall victim to your antics. There was a matching night dress that had been laid out with the dress - if you could call it that - and you scoffed at the idea of wearing it. 

Did all the other women at court have negligee to match their day clothes? 

Clutching the towel to your chest, you ignored the smallclothes that were also laid out. You were already sweating from stress. Before Merylle could turn around, you shrugged on a robe and turned to do your own hair. 

Merylle pottered about, seemingly displeased with your insistence on doing your minimal hair and makeup yourself.  She helped you step into your dress, adjusting the fabric wherever it needed. “Perfect, my Lady.”

“Please, you do not need to address me formally,” you corrected. 

You stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Fuck. 

The gown was a perfect fit. It was a deep emerald green silk gown which cinched at your waist before falling loosely yet gracefully from your hips. The bust was stiff and covered your cleavage just enough so that it could accentuate the swell of your breasts perfectly, a square neckline that left your collarbones and neck bare. It made you feel sultry in an entirely new way - it seemed as if it were seamless, flowing down and clinging to your skin at specific places to highlight each curve and dip of your body.

This was a powerful dress and you wondered if Aemond had intended it to be. Merylle fastened a jewelled chain around your neck. You asked her the question that had been lingering at the back of your mind, “Why does he want me there?”

And where the hell was he?

“I am merely a housekeeper,” Merylle spoke, her voice stern. She reminded you of a teacher. “I wouldn’t know.”

It almost made you laugh at the thought that he had effectively banished himself to some other part of the Keep in his stubbornness. 

“Oh,” you murmured. 

“I’ll leave you for now. The prince will escort you downstairs when he is ready for you.” 

And just like that, you were locked alone once more.

Aemond was making you wait. He knew that your mind would be racing with questions - questions he knew you would assault him with as soon as you had the chance. If he wanted to, he was more than ready to pick you up from his chambers and show you to the banquet hall. But there was something so satisfying in knowing the infuriating, heated effect he had on you. 

He could picture the scowl on your face and the way you’d be wallowing in your impatience.

Forty-minutes had felt like two hours before Aemond was standing in your doorway, dressed impeccably in matching emerald silk that was tailored to every curve of his body. He was like the embodiment of Adonis, the way he radiated with beauty, strength and temptation. 

Aemond’s gaze made your breath catch in your throat. It was hot and you swore you could feel it scorching your skin as he studied you from head to toe. He slowly dragged his violet eye up and down your body twice, swallowing and clenching his jaw as he turned away. “Let’s go.”

Gods. Aemond was raised a man of piety and honour but you were a tempting little thing and the urge to ravish you in that dress he had chosen for you–the dress which only seemed to multiply your beauty tenfold–was impossible to ignore. He was no prude but he felt that he deserved penance for the sinful thoughts of you that plagued his mind. 

And as you gazed up at him, innocently and unaware of all the ways he longed to defile you and unaware of his hardness straining against the fabric of his breeches, Aemond cursed himself for his doubts about marrying you. 

Aemond cursed himself to damnation for being too weak to admit that he yearned for you. Cursed himself because he wished to be yours and for you to be his but he would never be strong enough to live up to being good for you.  

He would forever fear the disappointment in a woman’s gaze–as his mother had always looked at him, the perception that he was unworthy of reverence and the truth that he will never be enough. Because all that Aemond ever seems to do is let people down when he is trying his best and being in love with the daughter of a treasonous lord was a vile predicament. 

The Dowager Queen had already told him so. She knew that the smallfolk and lords and ladies alike thought of her second son as a vicious man. But she had only agreed to the betrothal as a means to show the people that her family will always land on top. That you will be living out the rest of your life in the bed of such a man whose House and name your blood has betrayed. In the palm of the Crown. 

To show them that they have control over everyone somehow. That they were to be respected lest such traitors wanted to subject their loved ones to their reparations. 

Aemond stiffened at his thoughts. He couldn’t be in love with you. He had hardly known you truly. Above all, Aemond was sure that he would never be capable of giving nor receiving something so unattainable as love. 

Did he not resent you so? He rolled his eye. One nice dress was all it took for him to fall victim to such idiocies. Perhaps he was no different to the other men of these halls. 

“Am I-Am I to accompany you as your betrothed?” You still didn’t understand. 

“You said you wanted to see your family. Your parents will be here tonight.”

You took a moment to think about his words. 

I have your daughter. She’s safe and sound so long as you behave. 

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered if it meant that you’d get to see your parents. A sense of urgency overwhelmed you and you rushed towards Aemond. “Let us go then.”

Goosebumps arose on your skin the second that Aemond’s hand brushed against the dip of your back. It was a gentle graze, feather light and barely there but he drew his hand back and took a breath before you could even blink. 

“Follow me.”

Aemond had left your side before entering. The main hall was alive with people, many of whom you recognised from your limited days in court as a young girl. They all looked at you scornfully and you knew that they were all thinking of you as a traitor to the Crown. You were not but you had the same blood as one. 

The music was pleasant and some people danced while others were busy drinking and conversing. You searched the crowd for your parents, hoping that you didn’t look as crazed as you felt. There were so many eyes on you, so much judgment that it made you suck in a breath and keep your eyes anywhere but on the guests. 

Your mother was toward the entrance, a champagne flute held delicately between her fingers as she talked with your father. 

It was a miracle they had been invited after everything but you knew that they were only here because Aemond had a message for them. A message that was loud and clear just through your attendance. A message that told them that you were sitting comfortably in the palm of his hand, that he could use your entire family for whatever he pleased. 

“Ma,” you reached for her, willing yourself not to cry in a room filled with people. She gasped, arms wrapping around your shoulders as she mumbled incoherently. “Are you okay? And Jericho?”

“We’re all fine,” she smiled sweetly. “How is it? Over here? Are they treating you badly-”

Your father cleared his throat loudly. “Ears everywhere, my dear. I see that Prince Aemond has been generous.”

Generous. That word was like a parasite, stuck to you and making you sick to your stomach. 

“Yes. I suppose I have been alright.”

You stayed with them for the entirety of the night, slowly making your way through one cup of wine and a couple plates of the food that was set out for the guests. 

Slipping your cup onto a tray that one of the servants were carrying, you smiled at Floris Baratheon who spared a glance at you from where she stood. She was talking to Aemond and another man whom you could not name, a hand on his arm as she gazed at him through her eyelashes. 

She was only embarrassing herself, you thought. Aemond had put an end to that so that he could play out this game. Yet she still tried. Not that you cared, right? 

You glanced towards the corridor. Aemond seemed distracted enough by the conversation. Maybe you could blend in with the guests, make your way out as part of a group and nobody would be any the wiser. 

A few steps at a time, you made your way towards the exit. Every now and then someone would try and make idle conversation, bumping into you and forcing a hesitant greeting. But it would only last a few minutes. 

By the time you were at the doors, Aemond was nowhere to be seen. Fine, as long as he was far away from you. The hallway was grand and there were groups of people saying their goodbyes. It was the perfect getaway opportunity. 

You could disguise yourself within the guests, make your way to where your parents would pass and stay with them. It would work and you’d at least be out beyond this wing of the keep until you inevitably returned. Or you could see Jericho, and then you could convince them and disappear somehow. Jericho might even help you if you explained things to him–if you asked him. 

The thought that you were making a mistake began to cross your mind but just as you were at the foot of the door, an arm wrapped itself around your waist roughly, fingers digging into your hip as you were pulled away. Aemond smiled at the people who turned to look at you, their eyes trailing to where his hand burned its mark into the side of his betrothed. 

You could hear your blood rushing and heart racing, your palms growing clammy. You considered struggling, maybe putting up a fight. But it would be useless. Aemond was both skilled and strong and how far would you even get before he or a kingsguard caught up to you? Your plan was a desperate, confused mess. 

Of all the things happening in that moment, your mind was clouded by Aemond’s leathery, musky scent and the roughness with which he held you. The tick in his jaw and the slight purse of his lips gave away the anger he was suppressing as he dragged you through the crowd, opening the closest door he could find and pulling you in with him. 

Shit. 

Aemond pulled you so that you were facing him, holding your arms firmly in his hands. He all but growled, “I recall telling you not to run away, little mouse.” 

Your cheeks burned and your chest felt as if it were about to explode. Aemond had brought you into a closet which was actually the size of your chambers back home but you were flush against him, chest to chest and eye to eye. 

“And what? Will you have me whipped for it?” Taunting him was not a good idea but it came so naturally that you barely realised what you were doing. 

Aemond turned you and pushed you into a shelf, pressed against the surface and your back flush against his chest. “I do not like disobedience. My things are to stay where I leave them.”

You struggled against him. But it was for nothing. You barely stood a chance against the man who held you, his breath tickling your ear as you spoke. “I am not something you own, Aemond. I don’t have to heed you.”

“Oh but you do,” his knee lodged between your thighs, holding you down. “Where were you going to go, hmm? There’s not a single place in this Realm where I could not hunt you down myself and you would be back here within a moon.” Aemond could feel your rapid breathing, feel the way you squirmed against him but moulded so perfectly into his body. He hummed in mock thoughtfulness. “Maybe I should have let you go. I do enjoy a chase.”

There was a seductive venom that coated his tongue. It was so unlike the boy Aemond Targaryen you had known all those years ago, who may have been riddled with arrogance and dishonesty but he was never wicked. 

“What did I ever do to you, My Prince?” You gasped as he pressed himself further into you in an attempt to put an end to your struggling. Tears threatened to well in your eyes.  “Why are you doing this to me?”

Aemond stilled. He thought of the words to say, the words to describe the way that a small part of him now hates that he is making you cry but years ago, the entirety of him would have despised himself for it. As far as you were concerned, all he was to you was Jericho’s acquaintance who had no patience for you. Jericho’s acquaintance who never had the perfect family that you had, never had the love that he deserved, never had what he desired the most. 

He never had you. 

And Aemond might have hated you for it. 

“You were so blind,” he said. “So unaware. So selfish. All I had ever wanted from you was your devotion and all you gave me was resentment.”

Whether it was the gravity of his confession, or the way his body felt against yours, it took your breath away. What he was saying didn’t make sense. “I did not know. You were so cruel to me, My Prince, whatever little time we were together.”

Your chest was heavy with so many conflicting emotions. Fear, shock, anger and desire. 

“You want to know why I am doing this to you?” Aemond brought his lips so close to your ear that they brushed against your skin and sent a shudder through your body. “Because I hate your brother for what he did. Because I hate your family. Because I hate you.”

A lie. But you need not know. You swallowed deeply and were he not touching you in such a way, you would have recognised the pit of dejection in your gut. But you could only think of his hands. 

His hands, his hands. 

They were everywhere, dragging all over your body and leaving a trail of fire on your skin. He slid his fingertips down the sides of your dress, bunching it up at your hips. You couldn’t breath, couldn’t think of the words to say as the ache between your legs grew for him. It wasn’t right - Aemond was all but kind to you but your body yearned for him. 

He bit your ear. “I hate you but I fucking burn for you.”

Another gasp and you arched into him. Aemond’s words burrowed deep into your core and made your head spin with unfettered lust. After it all, you would have given him everything right then and there. The desire you had for each other was infernal, it was wrong and it was perfect. 

The air was thick and Aemond thought he’d choke on the concoction of lust, heat, anger and fear that was heavy in his chest. Your skin was soft like the satin of the dress he had picked out for you and it drove him crazy to think of all the ways he could indulge himself in your flawless body. 

“So tempting all the time,” he touched you with so much determination you wanted to let yourself melt into him, to become one with his heart and body. “Would you let me fuck you like this? How I should have done sooner and make your bewitching body mine?”

You let out a wanton moan as his soft lips found your neck, sucking roughly along the ridges of your skin. “I do not know-”

“Of course you do not know.” Aemond let his hand slip to the inside of your thigh, roughly digging his nails into your flesh and dragging them up to the most intimate part of your body that was bare under his touch. He sucked in a sharp breath at your lack of clothing under the dress–what an enticing, oblivious girl you were–and placed his hand flat against your sensitive flesh.  “I’m sure you would let me. Look at how responsive you are to my touch, such a needy little Lady. Tell me.”

The feeling of his hand against your sex and his body pressed against yours sent currents through you, right down to the tips of your toes. With heavy breaths you reached for his arm, desperately scratching his skin because you needed more, more, more. 

You were blind with need for Aemond’s body, for him to make good on his words and show you all the filthy things you knew he’d do to you. The voice of reason at the back of your head told you to slow down, that it would ruin you and you would never be able to undo it. 

If you gave Aemond your maidenhead here, and you managed to break free of this damned situation, you would be impure and left with no prospects of security. But all of that would be lost anyway. 

And you couldn’t stop yourself from burning in the heat of his body against yours, the hardened silhouette of Aemond’s cock against your back and the feeling of his palm cupping your womanhood ridding you of your ability to think. 

“Just this once,” you were breathless as you spoke, chest heaving against the hard surface of the shelf. 

Aemond tensed against you in surprise, his hips pressing further against the swell of your bum. He was hard, so hard for you. “If I am going to have you have you, ñuha dāria, it will be in the comforts of our marriage. Where I can take you in every way I have spent hours dreaming about.”

You had never met a more confusing, conflicted man than Prince Aemond Targaryen. Against your better judgment, you drawled, “You said you hate me-”

“I do hate you,” Aemond growled again, swiping the pad of his forefinger over your clit in one swift movement that had you writhing in an instant. “Does not mean that I do not want to fuck you.”

You were so wet for him, so prepared for him to push his cock into you right then and it made him throb under the restriction of his breeches. But Aemond was a man of great self control and he refused to give in so soon. 

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, the purposeful movements of his fingers rubbing circles over your clit sending thrums of pleasure through your body. Your hips rutted against his hands, incoherent words tumbling from your lips. 

Aemond was not a wildly experienced lover. And he didn’t usually take pleasure in someone else’s pleasure. But the way you trembled against him, the way that every inch of you called for his touch and the way you sounded so desperate and so filthy for him satisfied him in an entirely foreign way. It made his cock twitch and set a fire in his blood.

“Please, My Prince–I am so close,” you whined at the build up of your orgasm, recognising the intensified version of the white hot throb and the sensitivity which you felt whenever you touched yourself alone in your bed. He chuckled darkly before pulling his hand away from you.

There were people looking for him, Aemond could hear them through the door. He couldn’t care less.  “That is enough for now. It seems that they are looking for me.”

You turned yourself around, still squashed between Aemond and the shelf, just to gape at him. A smug smile graced his face, his pupil blown out with lust that you could feel pressed against your thigh.

You resisted the urge to smack him again. “You jest, surely.”

Aemond stepped away from you, taking a moment to look at the mess he had made of you while slipping his fingers between his lips. Your dress was caught at your hip and hitched up at your thigh, your hair was tangled and your knees wobbled gently. But your eyes, wide and full of innocent, unburdened desire for him had him questioning his decision to stop. 

How he longed to corrupt you. 

“Collect yourself. I shall send Merylle to get you to our chambers,” Aemond was at the door by now, fixing his belt to alleviate the discomfort of his arousal as his fervent gaze was focused on you. Our chambers. It was a slip of his tongue. “If you ever try such a stupid thing again, I will not be so lenient.”

With that, he was gone and you were once again left alone with a mind full of wild, distressed thoughts. 

--

tags; @toodlesxcuddles @tredegarwitch @blackravena

[writingbuckets]

𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢

paige bueckers x reader

wc: 1.8k

a/n: hi! this is the first part, i intend for it to be 6-8 parts, to a concept i've been thinking about for a while, i wanted to try my hand out at writing and this is what became of that. thank you so much for reading and feel free to let me know what you think <3

The bass of the music thumped through the walls, vibrating the floor underfoot as you stepped into the packed house. It was the usual scene—loud music, sweaty bodies, and the unmistakable scent of too much cheap beer. 

The party had been the first time you had gone out in months, and stepping into the crowded, chaotic atmosphere felt like an assault on your senses. You had been using studying as an excuse to avoid the social scene, claiming your coursework was overwhelming you—it was your hardest year, after all, and no one questioned your dedication to school. But that wasn’t the real reason you had been staying in.

The truth was, you’d been avoiding any place where you might run into Paige. After your non-relationship had ended so abruptly, you hadn’t felt up to pretending everything was fine. Every time you thought you were moving on, your heart would twist with the memories you hadn’t asked for, memories you wanted to bury.

But tonight, after months of isolation and late-night cramming sessions, your friends had finally convinced you to come out. They’d said it would be good for you, that you needed to let loose, have fun again. Reluctantly, you agreed. It was supposed to be a distraction, a chance to reset.

Yet, as soon as you walked into the party, your chest tightened. You couldn’t shake the fear that Paige would be there.

“Hey, glad you made it!” Ice’s voice broke through the pounding music as she bounded over, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you all were old friends, as if you hadn’t been ghosting the entire team’s texts for weeks.

“Yeah, I figured it was about time to stop being a hermit,” you replied, forcing a smile and ignoring the twist in your stomach. Your eyes automatically scanned the room, searching for the one person you both desperately wanted to avoid and couldn’t stop thinking about.

Paige wasn’t immediately visible, but you knew it was only a matter of time before she’d show up. After all, it was her teammate’s party, and Paige Bueckers was never one to miss out on socializing.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Ice said, leaning in to be heard over the music. “We haven’t seen you around much lately. You good?”

“Yeah, just been busy,” you lied. You weren’t going to get into the real reason you’d been keeping your distance. Ice was sweet, but she didn’t need to know about the messy, complicated, and completely unresolved situation with Paige.

“You want a drink? They’ve got some spiked punch in the kitchen,” she offered, pulling you towards the cluster of people gathered around the makeshift bar.

“Sure, why not.”

As you pushed through the crowd, you felt her pulse quicken. It was stupid to feel this way. You weren’t some lovesick teenager, but there was something about Paige that had always gotten under your skin. Even now, months after you’d stopped…whatever it was you two had, Paige still managed to occupy too much of your mental real estate.

It had started as something simple, just physical. A few late-night meetups, no strings, no promises. You weren’t naive—you’d known Paige wasn’t looking for anything serious. She was Paige Bueckers, for crying out loud, a college basketball star with the world at her feet. Of course she wasn’t going to settle down. But you had let yourself hope, just for a minute, that maybe Paige would want more.

She hadn’t.

Instead, Paige had pulled away, putting distance between you all when things started to feel too real. You had tried to play it off like it didn’t matter, like you hadn’t caught feelings somewhere along the line. But it had hurt—more than you’d care to admit. So you cut ties. Cold turkey. No texts, no late-night visits. You’d walked away before Paige could break your heart any more than she already had.

And now here you were, back in the lion’s den, willingly subjecting yourself to the torture of seeing Paige again.

“Yo, Bueckers!” someone called from the other side of the room.

Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced over your shoulder, and sure enough, there she was. Paige stood in the doorway, surrounded by a group of laughing friends. She looked good—too good. Casual as always, with that easy confidence that made her impossible to ignore. Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, a few strands falling across her face in that perfectly messy way that only seemed to enhance her natural beauty.

Your heart did a familiar, unwanted flip in your chest, but you quickly masked it with a smirk. Ice, oblivious to the tension that had suddenly thickened in the air, waved her over.

“Paige! Get your ass over here!”

Paige’s gaze flicked in your direction, her eyes landing on you with a momentary pause before she plastered on a neutral expression. It was subtle, but you saw it—the flash of recognition, the quick flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. Your eyes locked for a split second, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

Paige hesitated for just a beat too long before making her way over, her usual swagger noticeably stiffer. You braced yourself, gripping the red plastic cup in your hand a little too tightly as Paige came to a stop in front of you.

“Ice,” Paige greeted, giving her a quick hug before turning to you with a nod. “You.”

You. Not even your name. Just a cold, impersonal greeting. Your jaw clenched, but you forced a casual shrug.

“Bueckers.”

The tension was immediate and thick enough to cut with a knife, but Ice didn’t seem to notice. She was already babbling on about something funny that had happened in practice earlier that day, completely oblivious to the silent war waging between the two women standing beside her.

You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Paige. She looked tired. The usual spark in her eyes was dimmed, and there was a tightness around her mouth that you hadn’t seen before. But then again, maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part—hoping that Paige was as messed up about all this as you were.

“I need a drink,” Paige muttered, interrupting Ice’s story and brushing past you on her way to the kitchen. The slight contact—Paige’s arm brushing against yours—sent a jolt of electricity through your body, unwelcome and entirely too familiar.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You were not going to let Paige Bueckers get to you tonight. No way.

“So, how’ve you been?” Ice asked, pulling your attention back to the present. “You still working with that startup?”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty crazy, but I like it. Keeps me busy.” Busy enough to not think about Paige every damn second of the day.

“That’s awesome! You’ve got to tell me more about it sometime,” Ice said before spotting another teammate across the room. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!”

You nodded absentmindedly as Ice rushed off, leaving you alone in the throng of partygoers. For a brief moment, you considered slipping out, making your excuses and disappearing before you had to deal with more of this awkwardness. But no. You weren’t going to let Paige dictate your actions anymore. You had every right to be here.

Deciding to hell with it, you made your way toward the kitchen, needing a refill yourself. The crowd was thick, but you wove through it with practiced ease, trying to ignore the increasing tightness in your chest. When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you froze.

Paige was there, leaning against the counter, a red cup in her hand. Alone.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sounds of the party faded into the background as you stared at each other, the weight of everything left unsaid hanging between you.

“You’re here,” Paige finally said, her voice low, almost accusatory.

“Clearly,” you replied, your tone sharper than you intended.

Paige set her cup down on the counter with a clatter, running a hand through her hair. “Why?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Because Ice invited me. I didn’t know I needed your permission to be at a party.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t reply right away. Instead, she looked down at her hands, seemingly searching for the right words. After a long pause, she spoke again, softer this time.

“That’s not what I meant.”

You crossed her arms, your defenses going up. You couldn’t afford to let Paige see how much this still hurt. “What do you mean, then?”

Paige looked up, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, the mask slipped. There was something raw in her eyes, something that looked a lot like regret. But just as quickly, she blinked, and it was gone.

“I don’t know,” Paige muttered, shaking her head. “Forget it.”

“Already forgotten,” you shot back, turning to leave. You weren’t doing this. Not tonight.

But just as you were about to walk away, Paige’s hand shot out, gently grabbing your arm. The touch was light, but it stopped you in your tracks. You glanced down at where Paige’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, your pulse quickening despite yourself.

“Wait,” Paige said, her voice barely audible over the music.

You swallowed hard, your instinct to run warring with the part of you that wanted to stay. You didn’t want to hear whatever Paige had to say—because what could she possibly say to make any of this better? But at the same time, you needed to hear it. Needed some kind of closure, even if it wouldn’t be the kind you wanted.

Slowly, you turned back to face Paige, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What do you want, Paige?” you asked, your voice steady but cold.

Paige dropped her hand and took a step back, looking like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. After a long, excruciating silence, she finally spoke.

“I—” Paige’s voice faltered, and she looked away, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know.”

It was a pathetic answer, and you felt a familiar wave of frustration rise in your chest. Same old Paige, always deflecting, always hiding. You shook your head, exhaling a bitter laugh.

“You never do, do you?”

Without waiting for a reply, you turned and walked away, leaving Paige standing there in the kitchen, your unanswered question hanging in the air like smoke.

As you pushed your way back through the crowd, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something you couldn’t quite name—regret, maybe, or sadness. Whatever it was, it hurt like hell.

But it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to let Paige hurt you anymore. Not again.

And as much as Paige might try to avoid it, she was going to have to face the consequences of pushing you away. Because you were done playing nice.

[sukirichi]

𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊.

you never expected to like tea, or fall for the barista with a charming smile. but life has its way of surprising you, and your summer job just might be the best thing to happen to you.

→ barista! suo x waitress! reader. fluff fluff fluff! hand holding. suo is touchy and flirty. unedited. just suo being his usual charming self <3 reader is implied to be working before they enter university/college, but no age is mentioned. this is my first suo fic aaah i enjoyed writing him sm!! 2.6k wc

→ part of the help wanted collab hosted by @interstellar-inn !! divider from @cafekitsune thank you remi <3

You remembered your first day working at the quaint little café like it was yesterday.

It’d been your first day as a waitress, your first job since you’d graduated high school, too. Now that you were a summer break away from entering university, what better way to spend it than save up? So you’d sent in your application on the neighborhood café, popular amongst people your age, and began your first day at work.

The summer sun was high in the sky, its heat causing you to sweat under your clothes. The cicadas sang around you, a beautiful chorus from the trees, and their buzzing a welcomed soundtrack for the summer. The streets were lined with cherry blossom trees, their leaves a vibrant green, providing patches of dappled shade along the sidewalks. From where you stood, you could see the distant mountains, their massive silhouettes softened by the heat haze as they stood tall against the clear, azure sky.

Reaching the café, you pushed open the door, the bell above jingling softly. The café was known for its cozy atmosphere and exceptional tea selection, the place already bustling with customers. Your eyes darted around, taking in the sight of people sipping on steaming cups and enjoying pastries. Your heart raced as you approached the counter, a few of your co-workers already occupied and moving about.

“Hi,” you smiled, “I’m the new hire.”

A tall figure turned around, and your breath hitched. You’d seen him in the café countless times before, and begrudgingly admitted that he was the reason your friends loved visiting here so much. His name was Suo, the café’s infamous barista. He was pretty in the sense that you’d stop and give a double look when you first saw him, his voice smooth and his words effortlessly charming. But standing before him now? He was just so much prettier. His red hair caught the light, the auburn of it brighter and like burning fire.

“Ah, I’d heard you were coming today. Welcome,” he says warmly, “Follow me. Let’s get you started.”

Safe to say, your first day had been terrible. Throughout the morning, you fumbled with trays and mixed up orders, your clumsiness earning a few scowls from the customers. You apologized profusely each time, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. But Suo was always there, stepping in to smooth things over with a gentle smile and a reassuring smile. It worked like a charm, too. The moment he’d apologized for you, the customers leant back – smiling and reassuring him that it was not a bother at all.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said after one particularly harsh customer left. “Everyone makes mistakes when they’re starting out.”

“Did you?”

His eye lit up with mischief. “Maybe.”

Suo’s kindness only made your crush on him grow. You admired how he handled every situation with such grace and ease, his smooth voice calming even the most irritable patrons. You found yourself watching him whenever you could, entranced by the way he moved, the way his smile lit up the room.

One afternoon, the café had been unusually quiet. The summer head had driven most customers indoors, leaving you and Suo with some rare free time. He approached you then, a twinkle in his eye. “How about I teach you a bit about tea?” he suggested, “It’ll help with your knowledge, and it’s always fun to learn something new.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I’d love that,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. And there’s this silly voice at the back of your mind hoping – praying – that Suo was just making excuses to hang out with you.

He leads you to a small table at the back of the café, where a variety of tea leaves were laid out. He began to explain the differences between green tea, black tea, oolong, and white tea, his voice like a soothing melody. You hung on his every word, captivated by his passion and expertise. “Tea is an art,” he begins, his lithe fingers delicately handling the leaves. “Each type has its own unique characteristics and requires different brewing methods. It’s all about finding the perfect balance.”

You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way he spoke, his love for tea evident in every word. You watched him closely, noticing the way his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, the gentle way he handled the tea leaves. Biting the insides of your cheek to fight back a smile, your gaze travelled to his eyepatch.

“Do you mind if I ask… about your eyepatch?”

Suo smiles, his expression softening. “It’s a long story, but I don’t mind sharing it with you sometime. For now, let’s focus on the tea.”

You nodded, feeling warmth spread through your chest. You appreciated how he didn’t shy away from your questions, and it only deepened your fascination with him. He’d always been such a mysterious enigma. He knew everything about everyone, and joked enough with everybody to put them at ease with him. But it’s only now you realized that you knew very little about him at all – an issue you were determined to change.

As you continued with your tea lessons, Suo made you laugh with anecdotes and trivia, his smooth voice wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

Days turned into weeks, and your confidence grew under Suo’s gentle guidance. You still had your clumsy moments, of course, but Suo was always there to lend a hand – his calm presence a constant source of reassurance. And the more time you spent together, the more your feelings for him grew.

One particularly hot summer day, the café was slow, and your coworkers happily shooed Suo away to take his break. Surprisingly, he’d asked you to join him, leading you out into the small garden behind the café. You sat on a bench under the shade of a large tree, the gentle breeze rustling the leaves. Suo handed you a cup of iced tea, his smile as warm as the sun.

“You’re doing really well,” he said. “I can see how hard you’re trying, and it’s paying off.”

You grow flustered, and look down at your tea – the one he’d made just for you. “Thank you, Suo, but really, I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Suo’s chuckles are soft, tender. “You’re too modest, you know that? You’ve got a natural charm that customers appreciate, and you’re always eager to learn. Those are pretty great qualities if you ask me.”

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping tea and enjoying the tranquility of the garden. You stole glances at him every now and then, your heart swelling with affection. Suddenly, you wanted to tell him how you felt, but fear held you back. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if it made things awkward between you? You couldn’t risk that. You still had a few weeks in this summer job, and you couldn’t quit now. Suo was most definitely not leaving anytime soon, either. Everyone knew this café was practically nothing without him.

Just then, Suo turned to you, his expression thoughtful and lacking his usual carefree smile. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you say, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

Suo hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I… I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these past few weeks. You’re kind, hardworking, and you have a wonderful spirit. Before I knew it, I found myself looking forward to our next shifts together.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? You looked into his eyes, trying to gauge for the answers.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…” Suo continued, his voice steady but soft, “I’d like to keep doing this – getting to know you better. If that’s okay with you, at least.”

Your heart soared. “I’d love that, Suo,” you admit, unable to stop yourself from breaking out into a full wide-mouthed grin.

Suo’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “I was kinda worried you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of joy. “Are you kidding me? You’ve been so kind and patient. I’ve always admired you from the start so hearing you say that… well, you sure do know how to make a girl happy…” you trailed off, hiding your smile from behind your glass.

With his own bashful smile, Suo tentatively extended his hand, his movements slow and deliberate. He hesitated, his longer fingers hovering inches away from hers. You could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and your pulse quickened. You could tell he didn’t want to rush you, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he’d paused, giving you the opportunity to pull away if you wished.

You didn’t.

You glanced down at his hand, your heart fluttering with anticipation. You didn’t move, didn’t pull away. You let your hand remain where it was, hoping it’d be enough to give him the permission he’d been asking for.

Suo’s fingers brushed against yours – a light, tentative touch that sent a shiver up your spine. Slowly, gently, he closed the distance, his hand enveloping yours in a warm, reassuring grip. A bout of giddiness crashes over you, a bubbling happiness that made your skin feel warm and your heart race a mile a minute.

Neither of you spoke, but none needed to be said. Suo’s thumb gently stroked the back of your hand, a small comforting gesture that told a million words. You sat there, hand in hand, the summer sun warming you from the neck down.

As the summer days passed, you spent more time hanging out with Suo.

You spent your breaks together, sharing stories and dreams (mostly on your part, since Suo liked to keep his air of mystery, promising that you’d learn everything ‘one day.’) He continued to teach you about tea, and you found yourself falling more in love with both him and the art he was so fond of. Now, whenever you returned home, you’d fix yourself a cup of tea the way Suo taught you, inhaling its scent – simply because it reminded you of him.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the skies were painted in hues of pink and orange, you and Suo stood outside the café, sans the aprons and uniform. The air around you was warm, the gentle breeze making Suo’s bangs flutter to reveal a sliver of his forehead.

Suo turned to you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Would you like to go out with me sometime? Outside of work, I mean.”

“I’d love to.”

“Great,” his smile widens, his hand finding yours. You recently found that Suo loved to touch, even in just the smallest of manners. At work, he’d occasionally brush his shoulders against yours, or have his fingers graze your knuckles whenever he walked by. It’s always subtle, not enough to catch the attention of your co-workers, but enough to have your heart fluttering each time he did. “How about tomorrow? There’s a lovely park nearby that I think you’d enjoy.”

“I don’t know,” you pretended to think about, “Will you finally tell me more about yourself if I go out with you? Because I’m pretty sure we said we’d get to know each other. And last time I checked, you know everything about me, while I know so little about you.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes, gazing at you so tenderly. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know then.”

When he promised things like that, you were impatient. The next day simply couldn’t come by faster.

That next day, the café was buzzing with its usual afternoon crowd, the soft clinking of cups and the hum of conversations filling the air. You moved through the tables, balancing trays and refilling cups, but your mind was elsewhere. Every time you glanced toward the counter, your heart skipped a beat. Suo was stationed there, his calm, confident demeanor as steady as always, but today, there was something different – his smiles were bigger, paired with a playful spark in his eyes that was meant just for you.

Each time your eyes would meet across the room, Suo would give you a small, knowing smile.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks each time he did, unable to suppress the grin that spread across your face. He was subtle, but you noticed that every time he brushed past you, his hand would graze your arm or the small of your back, a brief touch that sent shivers down your spine. His presence was magnetic, his smiles addicting, and you were inexplicably drawn to him, your thoughts circling around your first date with him once your shift ended.

And that shift dragged on.

Later, Suo made his way over to you as you carefully balanced a tray of tea, his hand brushing yours just as you set the tray down on the table. It was such a fleeting touch, one that made your pulse quicken. He leaned slightly closer, his shoulder almost brushing yours. When you glanced up at him, he winked, a playful glint in his eye.

You bit your lip, trying to keep your excitement in check, but it was impossible not to feel giddy with the way he was flirting with you – silently, without a single word.

Every time you looked up from your work, Suo would already be watching you, his smile warm and affectionate. The anticipation between you built with each passing minute, your shared secret adding a thrill to the ordinary tasks of the day. You both moved in sync, as if dancing around the café, each little interaction a tantalizing tease of what was about to come.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the sun dipped low in the sky as the last customers trickled out. You wiped down the tables with a speed that shocked you and your co-workers, too eager to get everything done and over with. The café was closing, and soon, your date with Suo would begin.

You couldn’t remember having a day that had felt this long, the hours stretching out with each longing glance and fleeting touch.

As the final chair was stacked and the last teacup washed, Suo appeared at your side, a wide grin on his face. “That,” he says, breathless with excitement, “was the longest day of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted my shift to end as I did today.”

You laughed, feeling the last of your nerves melt away under the warmth of his gaze. “I was just thinking the same thing!”

Suo reached out, taking your hand in his, his thumb gently stroking the pads of your knuckles. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready all day.”

“All right,” he chuckles, though you don’t miss the way his cheeks flush red. “You don’t have to be so excited; it’s just me you’re going out with.”

“That’s exactly why I’m excited!”

You had always been a coffee person – someone who relied on the bitter, strong brew to kickstart your mornings. Tea had seemed too delicate, too nuanced for your taste, something to be enjoyed only on rare occasions. But then Suo had come into your life. He’d introduced you to a world you hadn’t ever been interested in – his world, the art of tea, the subtle differences between each variety, the rituals and traditions that made every cup an experience in itself.

As you walked side by side, you couldn’t stop yourself from marveling at how unexpected this summer had turned out to be.

You had taken the job at the café thinking it would be just another seasonal position, a way to pass the time and earn a bit of money.

You never imagined that it would lead to this, to him. To a summer filled with new experiences, to meeting a red-haired boy whose smile put the sun’s brightness to shame, to falling in love with Hayato Suo.

[kyamiia]

Wolf hybrid! Sanemi x Deer hybrid! reader

cw: mild animalistic traits (little prey & predator dynamics, only when mating), obvious fucking, breeding, size king/ strength difference, deer! reader,

- wolf hybrid! Sanemi who couldnt keep his eyes off you the first time he saw you <3 !!

- the way his ears perked up and his tail rose to attention when he caught sight of you in a crowded night market was comical, like he seen the most bewildering thing in his life.

-there goes ol’ you, talking to some merchant selling some miscellaneous product Sanemi couldn’t care about.

- actively changes his direction to go straight to you.

-nothing is scarier than a 5’10, scar covered, scary looking wolf hybrid approaching them as if he had some serious business with you, your deer ears pressing down on your head instinctively in fear as he approached you.

-surprisingly, he was mildly mannered, talking about how he noticed you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he held a small conversation with you.

-from that day on Sanemi was smitten, it didnt take long for you and him to get close, going out, he’d visit you when he didnt have a mission, once he even showed up to your front doorstep with your favorite bouquet of flowers, his white tail swishing side to side behind him.

-6 months into the friendship and you both realize you both enjoyed eachothers company more than you both would like to admit . One confession later you were intertwined in a relationship with Sanemi Shinazugawa.

-Sanemi is as passionate in bed as he is with his duties as a Hashira.

- it comes out brash and intense, he puts his 200% in you.

- fucks you like its his last time ever seeing you, your head is tilted back as gasps are constantly coming from your throat

- he bullies his cock inside you as he leaves harsh kisses on the kiss of your exposed neck, he pants along your skin, his hips slapping against yours a the wet erotic, downright pornographic squelching sound fills the little space between you two.

“yeah yeah yeah yeah so good- yer good fer’me”

Sanemi slurs against your skin as he licks the sheen of sweat that stays atop your skin, his powerful hips bucking against yours in clouded abandon, he needs you, you feel so good, so snug around him, the warmth and wetness of your cunt cloud all of his senses as all he can think about is how good you feel around him. He removes his head from the crook of your neck, some strands of his ivory hair sticking to his sweaty skin before his lilac eyes glance down, taking in the sight of how his dick disappears into the plush of your cunt, its so hypnotizing, the way his girth sinks into you with minimal resistance , its like you were made for him.

Without thinking he grips your hips harshly, pulling out of your warm depths before flipping you over onto your stomach which earned him a squeal from you, turning your body to look behind you, deer ears pinned back against your head in confusion, eyebrow furrowing

“Sanemi ?”

your meek voice calls out before he hovers over you, lilac eyes wide and penetrating right into your very soul

“lemme cum in you.”

he growls out as his hand goes to play with your tail, his fingers going through the soft fur as his fingers ghost up your back and between your shoulder blades

“please let me cum in you.. y’feel like heaven.”

Sanemi practically whines, its needy and filled with such longing, his nose presses against your shoulder as he lets out a shuddered breath against your skin, he waits for your answer, not moving an inch unless he’s given a definitive yes or no.

“Sanemi yes- fuck— just fill me up-“

You whine as you arch your back into him, feeling empty at the lack of him being inside you after being so spent, you need him inside, it feels like the only thing that matters at the moment and that the world wont move unless he continues. With your clear answer his hand pushes your upper torso into the bed, its rough, it’s harsh as he presses his dick back inside, slowly easing himself deeper that elicits a sultry moan from you till hes buried at the hilt.

“hold on for me.”

He rasps into your ear before he snaps his hips up, its a snap that makes you audibly gasp, and before you know it hes set his pace but its rougher, like hes trying reach your lungs as his hips snap up frantically like a animal. White ears perked up a all he can focus on is how your ass jiggles with each rough thrust, his other hand snakes its way to the small space between your boulder blades as he pushes you down onto the bed more, using you as leverage to harshly fuck into you.

“oh yeah loook at you- fuck yah- yer so fucin pretty, gonna look all pretty with my cum in you.”

Sanemi babbles fall onto deaf ears as all you can focus on is how his fat tip pushes against your cervi with each thrust, its borderline brutalizing with how he holds you own and hoe he fucks you. the air being knocked out each time he pushes back in

“nemi- s-slow down- m gonna-“

A train couldnt even compare to how hard your orgasm hit, words catching in your throat like an animal in a trap, you bury your face into the mattress beneath you as you let out a high pitched cry, your cunt squeezing and contracting around Sanemi as he pushed inside you one last time, stilling and his hips lightly twitching as he finishes inside you.

hello :3 !!! plz hybrid wolf sanemi has been on the brain and i still don’t feel like i executed it perfectly, if you have any constructive criticism its very much welcome <3 !!

[berrymarkie]

hiii can you do ten x virgin!reader 🥹 your taeyong and jaemin fics are so fcking gooddd i cried 😭

virgin | ten

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thank you for the request, i hope this is good. btw thank you so much you’re so sweet! 😭💞 this took a bit longer than expected so i apologize for that! 🙂‍↕️

genre : smut , fluff

it’s been 3 weeks since you last saw your boyfriend ten. although you can go days without seeing him, weeks are harder on you. he’s on a business trip with his parents. they usually leave him at home but this time was different as they were going to his hometown. you’ve been visiting friends today, finally arriving home at around 11.

as you walk into your bedroom you see a figure on your bed. your heart drops at the sight, not knowing who was in your room. but your worries turns into excitement when you realize that it’s your boyfriend. “you didn’t tell me you’d be back early.” you say and crawl onto the bed to hug him.

“i missed you so much.” ten whines as he squeezes you gently.

“i missed you too, but please tell me you didn’t leave your parents early just to come see me.” you sigh and pull away from the hug to look at him. he laughs nervously and rubs the back of his neck.

“hey! that’s where you were raised and you leave this early?” you push his shoulder gently and frown at him. “it was worth it, i got to do what i wanted to do. besides i’d choose you over staying there any day.” he smiles and kisses your cheek. you look at him with a small smile and nod. “okay then.”

he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your lips gently, moving his hands up and down. you kiss him slowly, your hands finding their way to his hair. you run your fingers through his hair slowly, still moving your lips against his.

he pulls away from the kiss and pulls you onto his lap, his hands starting to trail up into your shirt as he rubs your waist. “what’d you do when i was gone?” he asks while looking at you with a smile.

you pause for a second to think. “honestly, nothing really.” you laugh softly. he chuckles and looks at you for a moment. “i really missed you.” he says and kisses you again, one of his hands moving up to touch your cheek.

the kiss you two exchange become rougher. you feel his tongue swiping at your bottom lip, causing you to smile slightly. he took that as his chance to slip his tongue closer to yours. his tongue brushes against yours as you keep kissing, the kiss quickly becoming sloppy.

he pushes you off his lap gently and lays you onto the bed, leaning down to kiss your neck. “why do you always smell so damn good.” he whispers into your ear in between kisses. giggling softly, you rest your hand in his hair. his breathing quickens as he continues giving kisses on your neck. you can feel something hard pressing against your thigh as he pulls you closer to him.

he pulls away from your neck but keeps his face nuzzled in it, breathing heavily. “hey baby?” he pants. “yeah?” you ask while playing with his hair.

“do you think you’re ready?” he asks, pulling away from your neck and looking at you. “for what?” you ask, confused on what he’s talking about.

“you know…” he trails off, his eyes wandering away from your face. you soon realize what he’s talking about, taking a second to think about it.

“yeah, i am.” you say while looking at him. he immediately looks up at you and nods. he moves his hands to the bottom of your top, looking at you for permission to take it off. you nod and he pulls your shirt off of you. your chest is now partially bare, covered by a light pink bra.

you haven’t been this exposed to him ever, he takes in the sight of your cleavage for a moment before pulling his own shirt off. his bare torso and tattoos can be seen in the dim light of the room.

his hands find their way to your chest, gently holding and squeezing your boobs through your bra. he leans down and starts to kiss on your chest while keeping eye contact with you. starting to suck gently, leaving hickeys along your chest.

he pulls away and pushes down your pants, revealing the matching pink panties underneath. a long breath escaping his lips as he looks at you, taking in the sight of you so vulnerable underneath him. unlike before, you’d stop him when he would try to undress you.

he lays next to you and rubs your thigh gently, brushing his finger against your panties. you hold onto his free hand as he pulls off your panties. “you sure about this? we can stop now.” he says and looks at you, his hand reaching closer to your cunt. “i’m sure.” you say softly, he nods in response.

his finger rubs against your folds, spreading the wetness around and onto your clit. he rubs your clit slowly, looking between your face and your pussy. you look at him and hide your face in the blanket close to him. he chuckles a bit and keeps rubbing his fingers against you, eventually rubbing around your hole. he pushes one finger in slowly causing you to whimper. it hurt a bit but it was bearable.

“never been touched like this before? hm?” he whispers and starts to move his finger in and out. you gasp softly at the feeling of his finger in and out of you. your eyes shut as he speeds up, concentrating on the pleasure that is being given to you.

“cmon baby, you gonna cum huh?” his voice low and stern. you nod and whimper as you feel yourself getting close. he adds another finger inside of you and moves them in and out even faster.

you clench around his fingers as you feel yourself cumming. throwing head back into pillow with a whimper, you pant. “was that your first time cumming?” he asks you softly.

“no but, it’s never felt that good.” you breathe out. he chuckles and kisses your cheek. after letting you rest for a bit, ten sits up and pulls off his pants. he sits beside you and pulls off his boxers, revealing his hard cock.

he looks at you with desire in his eyes as he moves closer to you. you find yourself having a hard time looking away from his cock once you look at it. “i don’t think it will fit” you say nervously.

“don’t worry, we’ll make it fit.” he says and gets on top of you again. his tip brushes against your thigh as he leans down to kiss your lips. you kiss him back until you feel him rubbing himself against your slit, pulling away from the kiss enough to catch his breath.

“you ready?” he asks. you nod and grab his hand to hold. you look up at his face, getting ready for whatever it would feel like. he smiles softly and starts to push in slowly. his eyes squeeze shut as he comes in contact with your warmth. you wince at the feeling, he’s stretching you more than his fingers did. it causes a burning sensation to set in.

he doesn’t move for a moment but then starts to push in again, adding more and more length slowly. your eyes start to tear up due to the pain. he sees this and quickly kisses your cheeks, making sure not to move into you anymore.

“you wanna stop? it’s okay if you do.” he says and pushes your hair out of your face gently. “i wanna keep going.” you say softly, breathing heavily. he nods and starts to push in a bit more. you’re full on crying now, tears flowing from your eyes because of the overwhelming amount of pain.

he leans down and kisses the tears on your cheeks, starting to rub your palm gently. “tell me when i can move.” he says and starts kissing your neck, hoping to distract you from the pain.

a few minutes go by with him staying completely still, not moving at all but still keeping his lips on your neck. “you can move now.” you whisper. he nods and stops kissing your neck, slowly starting to add more of his length into you. your breath quickens as the pain starts to rise again. he pulls away from your neck and looks at you.

the feeling of him filling you up is overwhelming and you start to squeeze his hand. “i can’t.” you choke out. he shakes his head and shushes you. “shh, i know you can take it.” he whispers and smiles.

“i’m gonna put it in all the way, you ready?” he asks you and rubs your hand. you bite the inside of your cheek and nod. he pushes into you completely, bottoming out into you. “fuck.” he groans when he feels the tightness around him.

he stays still again, letting you get used to his size. “you can move.” you say and grip onto his hand again, preparing to feel pain again. he starts to move in and out of you gently, breathing heavily.

“so so tight.” he grunts and keeps the same pace. the pain faded into pleasure quickly. he slowly starts to move in and out of you quicker. “does that feel good now?” he pants, making you nod quickly.

“faster please.” you whimper quietly. he smiles and starts to thrust into you faster. the room becoming filled with wet slapping noises as he fucks into you. “let me hear you baby, dont be so quiet.” he groans and shakes his head.

suddenly, his thrusts become rougher. now reaching deeply in a way that causes your legs to go weak. you let out a soft moan as he thrusts into you deeper, your body getting pushed up into the pillows more with every movement.

your eyes flutter shut tightly, your whole body starting to shake as you get closer to cumming. you look up at him, taking in the sight of his messy hair. you push his hair away from his forehead but quickly retracting your hand to grip onto his shoulder as he hits deeper into you.

he looks down at your stomach, groaning as he sees the bulge of his cock in your stomach. “look at that.” he says and grabs your legs, putting them on his shoulders. you look down to see the bulge in your stomach, then laying head back on pillow while whimpering.

“where do i cum?” he asks while still moving into you. “wherever you want.” you manage to say, your hand leaves his shoulder to grip onto the bedsheets tightly.

with one final thrust, he groans and you feel his warm cum flowing into you. his head falls to the side of your neck, still thrusting a bit. you whine as you feel yourself starting to cum as well. your body now going limp after reaching your high.

he moves down and starts to kiss your chest. his kisses turn into gentle sucks, working on making the previous marks he left even darker. you breathe heavily, trying to catch your breath.

he pulls away from your neck and leans back, slowly pulling out of you while looking down at your pussy. his cum drips out slowly, staining the bedsheet underneath.

he lays next to you and pulls you closer. “you did so good, i love you.” he smiles softly and kisses your cheek.

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note . . .

thank you so much for all the support on my previous posts! i was expecting to get like 15 likes on each post MAX… so this is really cool <3 more requests would be really appreciated right now, i have no ideas at all tbh. 😭

[tadpolesonalgae]

Tag, You’re It — Part 3

Dark!feysand x reader

a/n: Should have never said the word love. Threw a toaster in the bathtub. I’m sick of all the games I have to play. 

warnings: noncon/dubcon; threesome fmf; facesitting; dumbification; light praise kink; minor use of shadows; spitting; light impact play

word count: 7,332

-Part 2-

The door dully swings open, but you don’t bother opening your eyes. 

It hasn’t even been a full day since they last took you from your cage. When they’d manipulated and mangled your mind, when they’d forced you to yield the few things you still had control over. The one place even they hadn’t tried to completely disrupt. 

From the pace of the footsteps, you know it’s the High Lord who’s come to visit, the memory of chains and whips rising to the surface. This will be the third day in a row you’ll be denied peace and privacy. 

You open puffy eyes wearily, noting the familiar glint of violet as he peers at you, a slight frown tucked in the edges of his mouth. Before today you might have been pleased with his displeasure. Not today. It’s just another expression to record. 

He crouches down to where you’re huddled in your corner, tucked away and wrapped beneath the one blanket you were given. His hand reaches forward, fingers dipping under your chin so he can look at you properly. Examining the goods, probably. Guessing whether you’re well enough for him to fuck. 

“Did you not sleep, little lynx?” He asks lowly, quietly. Observing you keenly. 

You give no reaction, the words passing into your mind without registering. Too tired to respond. Too empty to give.  

His brows narrow. “I thought you were going to be good?” He goads, angling your jaw to rise a little higher. “We came to an understanding, didn’t we?” 

Silence and a blank expression. 

Rhys frowns, then his hand is lightly gripping the back of your head, tangling in your hair as he leans forward, free hand bracing himself on the iron bars as he presses his mouth to your own. Tongue plying you open, he kisses you deeper, facing little resistance as your lips part beneath his own. Not so much as a whimper rising up to greet him. 

He nips at your lower lip, canines lightly dragging over the softness, but you give nothing. Something’s wrong here, he can sense it, already reaching out for his High Lady. 

Rhys? Purrs that voice that has heat warming his skin. 

Come in here, he requests lowly, pulling back to allow her the sight he’s seeing—the vacancy behind your eyes, the general lack of reaction, the absence of life. 

Is she okay? Feyre asks, all sexuality vanished, replaced by cool suspicion and slight wariness. A single note of concern. 

Rhys’ thumb strokes over your cheek, his pulse spiking as he bites back a pleased grin at your complaisance. She’s at her breaking point. 

His High Lady understands, swift on her feet as usual. They’ve discussed this moment, how it will occur and what they should do as it passes. How to push you over that breaking point without shattering you entirely, more along the lines of heating you until you’re soft and pliable—all for daemati hands to reshape and rehabilitate. You’ll be exactly as you were, only you’ll have always been theirs. No human man with his sweat and breath to contaminate your reactions to them. 

Blankly, you watch him. Even in your dazed and depressed state you recognise the glaze of his eyes, a small part of you shrivelling further knowing she’ll be along soon. Having to watch as she violates your trust again and again, never stopping and never learning. Never changing. 

“Will you stand for me, little lynx?” The High Lord asks lowly, pleasure enriching his sonorous drawl, deep and rolling, easy to listen to and adore. But you remain still, keeping to the small hollow you’ve carved for yourself in the depths of your mind, watching silently. 

Violet gleams, though he doesn’t seem to mind your disobedience, not as darkness releases the chains locking you, overwhelmingly strong arms pulling you up from the blood-red carpet of the cage, putting you effortlessly over his shoulder as he takes you to their bed, settling you down. You make no effort to move, and he gives you no instructions to follow, both listening as a set of footfalls approaches softly from the hall. 

The door swings open, clicking shut as blue-grey eyes brush over you instinctively with a flash of attentiveness you think you recognise before it’s locked beneath hard ice—the High Lady. Not your dear friend.  

“How is she?” The High Lady asks hungrily, gaze raking over your naked form in a way that almost has you tempted to shrink away. Almost. But remembering what they’ve done, the indignities they’ve forced down your throat…you don’t care. 

“She’s ready,” you hear the High Lord reply, and you move your gaze to the ceiling, studying the plain pattern—the wooden beam branching across the middle. 

Footsteps approach, but you don’t care as her fingers trace down your sternum, over your stomach. Not even as she grazes your breasts, or thumbs against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs…none of it matters anymore. You’re inside your own mind, and safe from them. Curled in a darkened corner, alone and abandoned. 

“She seems so unresponsive,” Feyre hums, amusement lacing her tone in a way that should set warning bells ringing, but you remain silent. Rhys’ arm slides around her waist, broad palm squeezing lightly as he idly examines the pliable look to your body. Relaxed and uncaring. The perfect subject for dark fantasies.

“Enjoy her,” Rhys drawls, glancing at his mate sidelong. “This is the first time she’ll let you have her without quarrel. If there’s something you’ve wanted to try…now’s the time.” Something shifts within her at those words, colour flushing her skin sinfully, teeth tugging at her lower lip. You watch as Feyre’s eyes glaze before a faint smile is appearing on Rhys’ mouth, pleased with whatever idea his mate has come up with. Something you doubt you’ll enjoy, if it’s piqued his interest so obviously. 

“As you wish,” Rhys says lowly, violet eyes flicking over you once more, before departing, leaving you alone with his High Lady. 

Blue-grey eyes turn to you, raking down over your bare form, soft and so touchable. So many things she would love to do to you, with the tip of her tongue, the ridges of her nails…the sharp sting of her teeth…

“It’s just us now, sweet girl,” Feyre murmurs, moving closer, allowing her fingers to trace the curve of your ankle at the edge of the bed, running over the bridge of your foot, watching how your toes curl away from her touch, unable to completely lock her out. “Just me and you, how it used to be. Do you remember those times as fondly as I do?” 

You refuse to reply, and she zips the ridge of her nail up the underside of your foot, making you recoil sharply from the sensation. Her lips curve at the small victory, and a seed of frustration is planted within your chest. Why can’t she just let you be? Why does she insist on bothering, and teasing, and torturing?

She hums, fine with your silence, mattress dipping as she settles, slowly making her way toward you. “I do, and we’ll have them again soon enough,” she admits, a flush on her cheeks, “you just have to go through a little more. A little more, then you can be my sweet girl again. Who I can attend and listen to, who I can laugh with like we used to. Don’t you want that?”

The High Lady pauses at your hips, thumb skimming over the top of your left thigh, eyes hungrily following, before dipping between your legs. But you keep still. Unresponsive. 

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” she muses, gently pushing your legs apart. Knowing how you detest it far more when they apply themselves to you than when they simply use you for their own ends. It’s so much worse when they touch you, putting their pleasure into your body without your permission, allowing their sickness to take root until it destroys you. 

Her tongue licks up your centre, and the pleasure sings dully in the recesses of your mind. She circles your clit with painful familiarity, before attaching her mouth to you, suckling eagerly, tongue swirling as she works pleasure into your thighs and cunt. 

Are you enjoying this, sweet girl? Feyre wonders. Come on, tell me how much you like it. How you love it when we touch, and kiss, and lick you here. As if to emphasise, she sucks on your clit harshly, teeth gently scraping before returning to soft and slow licks of her tongue. I know how good it feels, I know how to make it feel good for you, too. Just tell me. With words, or a moan, or the slightest shift of your body—tell me about your pleasure. 

You can feel your body heating in response to the stimulus. Warming around you as you tuck yourself deeper into the cool darkness, only wanting to escape. 

Feyre hums softly, pushing your legs so they’re bent at the knee, allowing her more access as she laps firmly over your sex, parting you slowly as she drags upward, tongue hardening as she flicks over your sensitive clit, feeling how muscles in your thighs react helplessly. She repeats the motion before dipping lower, nose brushing your clit as she kisses your entrance, lips gleaming as slick gathers in defence, only enticing her further. Promising the reward of your taste…your flavour…feeling your orgasm on her tongue. 

Or, you could tell me how you hate it, she goads, able to hear the wicked lilt to her honeyed voice. I know how you love to tell us you hate us. How you despise us, how we’re going to hell? Tell me now. Tell me why. Her tongue strokes over your clit, your breathing becoming shallower, but Feyre knows those are simply your body’s reactions—she wants yours.

The building heat dies away as her mouth detaches from you, slippery slick gleaming on her lips as she crawls higher, straddling your hips as she rids herself of her own clothing. “It seems a shame to waste pleasure on you if you won’t even react to it,” she muses, a flush colouring her cheeks, and you shrink away as you feel her wet sex against your bare skin as she spreads her thighs, keeping you pinned to the bed as she sits. “So I guess I’ll let you have your way, for now. I’ll use you instead.”

Feyre crawls higher, anticipating a gleam in your eyes, or at least a twitch of your hands. A shift of expression to reveal your thoughts, but nothing. Even when she prods at your mind, she gets no response. But Rhys has told her this an important part of rehabilitation, reshaping you into what they want. This numbness, it’s all part of their plan—it will work. 

It has to.

Her knees settle either side the top of your head, mattress dipping with her weight, so when she inevitably chooses to sit, she will settle atop your mouth, just as she likes. 

“Are you happy down there, sweet girl?” She asks, unable to help the way her fingers long to play with herself, sex heating now she has your eyes on her. Arousal swiftly liquefies, and she touches the pad of her finger to her clit, aching and sensitive, longing to be stimulated. “I’ll make sure to give you a good show, hm? Would you like that?” She laughs a little breathlessly—normally you’d be kicking and screaming; it’s nice in a way to have you so docile. Obedience will come soon after. 

Feyre spreads her thighs, and you still hate the way your mouth opens, tongue licking and lapping how they’ve trained you to do. Familiar with the punishment they’d inflict when you kicked off too hard. So you follow through with the motions out of habit, and you curl tighter into a ball, head ducked between your knees as you hold yourself together deep inside your mind.

Above you, Feyre moans roughly, thighs parting wider as she rubs her sex over you, liking how your lips catch on her clit, the way your nose pushes lightly at the sensitive bud. She sits fully, thighs parting as her fingers tangle in your hair, grinding closer, moving how she wants to, following every ache, chasing every spark of pleasure her body guides her with, picturing your mouth parted beneath her heat, tongue laying over your lower lip, allowing her to drag her clit across it. 

Rhys, she calls out mentally, where are you?

Already? Her mate muses, that didn’t take very long. 

I can’t wait any longer, Feyre replies breathlessly. She’s being so good Rhys. Come in here. Try her with me.

Show me, he sends back, even though she can feel his approach in her bones.

Feyre glances down, showing the way her fingers are carefully gripping your hair, almost tenderly, guiding you to where she wants, hips shifting over your mouth, liking how your tongue feels against her clit but aching for something deeper. Your scent filters through into his mind, those beginning notes of arousal starting to peek through your fear-tinted scent and his pace quickens ever so slightly before silently entering the room. Feyre doesn’t look up, keeping her eyes on yours so you won’t know about the other presence joining you. 

“You’re being so good,” Feyre murmurs, fingers pushing hair back from your face lightly, thumb stroking up between your brows as she winds her hips, feeling like if she put her mind to it she could come right then and there, watching as your lids flutter as you taste the flavour of her release. “Keep doing that,” she soothes, “keep behaving, and you’ll feel good in no time.” 

You’re so wrapped up in trying to internally shy away from her, so far from the surface of reality that you don’t notice as Rhys slinks in on cat-soft feet. It’s not even until he’s between your legs on the mattress, and his roughened hands slide over the tops of your thighs that the protection you’d been afford until now behind to slip away. Unlike Feyre, he holds no familiarity—he’s unpredictable and dangerous, prone to inflicting you with stinging pain while stuffing you to the brim with pleasure until they’re practically blending together. 

Muscles twitch in your thighs, fluttering in your lower stomach, but it’s the only reaction you give as he pushes your legs wider, bending them at the knee and gripping your hips to allow him control over your lower body. Positioning himself as he likes. 

The first noise of the night is wrung from your lips as Rhysand slides himself in, settling himself comfortably between your open legs until he’s flush with the soft skin of the backs of your thighs. Feyre’s fingers slide through your hair and you try to turn your head away from the sight, try to clamber and crawl back to the corner you had found for yourself, hidden away from their touches that sink so much deeper than bone deep. Her touch is like the raw scrape of cotton, coarse before it’s refined to softened fibres. You’re grateful you can still pick out the unpleasantness of her palms. They’re warm but calloused enough to catch, sweet abrasion lifting up from your skin into your mind as she leans back, reaching behind herself to swipe her thumb across one of your nipples. Is there a diverged universe where you would have enjoyed her heat and warmth? 

It’s been long enough, coping with their hands and warring with their tongues that it doesn’t take too much effort to switch your perspective, your mental opposition steadily eroded with every use. 

In this other world Feyre would have found you first. You would have connected, and grown together at a gentle incline. You would have lived together for a short period, while both of you were working but also husband hunting. You would spend evenings speaking about potential matches, but neither of you would ever manage to commit to someone else. 

The realisation would start slowly, on your end. Spilling a vase on your bed and so having to sleep in Feyre’s while she was away one night, smelling her in the sheets, feeling the imprint of her body dipped into the mattress and the shallowness of her pillow where she would rest her head. Borrowing a bonnet or a pair of gloves of hers when you were due for a luncheon but without anything to wear, and without any money to afford a new purchase, feeling the fit of her fingers over yours, seeing the colours she had chosen for herself. Eating together in the evenings, starting on separate armchairs then moving to sharing one sofa, until on one particularly cold evening you decide to huddle together and you’d feel the warm press of her side and maybe one of you would even lay your head on the other’s shoulder. 

Yes. It would have started slow, and you would have been given the time you needed to accept how intertwined you were with one another. 

Rhysand would have never taken her away from you, and you would have never met your husband. 

You could keep her, and you would privately share space until neither of you could remember whose comb was whose, or which bottle of perfume was yours and which was hers. There would never have been a divide, and you’d still be together. 

Something hot and wet splashes on your cheek, and she’s pulled you close enough to the surface of reality you can make out the slope of her bare shoulders and the heat behind her eyes. Her lashes blink shut but another droplet falls onto your cheek. 

She’s halted her movement, raised up on her knees as she stares down at you with gleaming blue-grey eyes. Her breathing stutters as male hands wrap around her waist, scar-flecked fingers gliding up to cup one of her breasts as he holds her by her hips, nosing up the length of her neck. Inhaling the scent of her wavering arousal through the silk of her long hair. You think you see sorrow in her glistening eyes, but you sink back below your surface, refusing to acknowledge or accept whatever she’s fleetingly considered offering. 

Feyre’s hold tightens on your hair, feeling as you slip away. Her fingers wrap themselves between the strands, nails dragging across your scalp as she tries to pry you open again in a way she hasn’t seen since she decided to take you. Possibly even longer. 

Sweetness, she tries, Sweet girl, come back to me. 

More tears drip down onto your cheek but they’re only surface level. Lacking the cruelty to sink any deeper than that. 

We can be gentle with you. I can be gentle with you again. But still she fails to reach you. Fails to breech the numbness that’s been slowly spreading through your mind since she decided against you. Decided that she couldn’t wait. Decided Rhysand would be her better option. After everything you went through together. 

Rhysand pulls away, his hand lifting from her breast to her jaw as he tilts her face toward him, frowning upon seeing her tear-stained cheeks. It won’t be long now, he whispers into her head. She’s practically there already. Just a little more and she’ll be ours. 

That word sets Feyre’s skin on fire. Does she want you to be theirs? Or does she want you to be hers? The thought seems too dangerous to consider now, especially with her mate so thoroughly wrapped around her. She tosses it away, burying it deep, deep down. Somewhere far from the light. Somewhere Rhysand won’t be able to find. Because she knows she doesn’t like how cruel they’re being. How she doesn’t yet fully trust him to handle you. He can have every part of herself, fall into his arms without any sense of his presence and trust he’ll be there, that he’ll catch her, but not this. 

Not you. 

You’re hers. 

Feyre’s hips begin to rock faintly, gliding the dripping slick of her cunt over your already sopping mouth, strands of arousal sticking the two of you together as her fingers soothe through your hair, gentling her touch to that lost intimacy. 

A small sound responds to her touch. So small she doesn’t even hear it, only feeling the faintest vibration beneath her, softer even than the beat of your heart. 

Her fingers stutter, pulse fumbling as she tries to search for the sign again, now running her thumb over the crest of your cheek. Your tongue tenses beneath her, and Feyre repeats the action, swiping slowly back and forth until a low light is reflecting in your eyes. 

Everything seems veiled in a thin blur, lights fuzzy and forms hazy. There’s a small warmth on your cheek, one that’s so achingly distant you force yourself to rise through the thick fog and into the torture of your senses, nerves feeding you the pressure of Rhys’ cock stuffed full inside you all the way to his base, able to feel the heavy weight of him even now. But the touch you’re seeking is coming from Feyre, looking at you in a way you’ve pleaded with her to give you, countless times. Screamed for that look until your voice was gone and torn. 

You can’t make out what’s happening but your body falls cold as she looks away from you, meeting the gaze of the male she bound herself to. An unknown amount of time passes like that, but then she’s carefully lifting up from your body, pulling away until she’s out of sight and the world loses its colour, returning to dull shades of grey and sepia. The only thing sharp and cruel enough to cut through your filter being the stark violet of the High Lord’s eyes and this time you react. It’s nothing significant, nothing that would have previously caught their attention, the movement so small, but your eyelids lower by a fraction of a degree, that listless numbness seeping back into your muscles. 

Rhysand’s arms band beneath the curve of your spine, palms splaying between your shoulder blades and cupping the back of your head as he pulls you upright. You shudder as he flicks the tip of his tongue over your lips, able to taste his mate there. But instead of deepening the kiss, his eyes seem to gleam with other intentions, and your pulse spikes as he pulls out of you only so he can turn you around. 

There, splayed out on the bed, reclining on her back, is Feyre. 

Not the High Lady. Not Rhysand’s mate. But Feyre. 

Her body looks soft and inviting in a way you’ve not found it since she took you, and though you know her mouth is forming to speak words, none of them reach your ears, sound dulled—one of your first senses to numb. She doesn’t need to say anything though—neither of them do. Nor do either of them even need to give the command for you to know where you’re going, with the way her legs are spread like that. 

But Rhys’ palm closes around your throat, fingers flexing menacingly as he brings his mouth to the smooth curve of your human ear. “Behave, tonight,” he whispers, in a voice like night and silk all heated by the intimate placement of a candle flame. “Then it will all be over.” 

You’re surprised when he releases you, but only because instead of being dragged back far enough that your face will slot nicely between Feyre’s open legs, her arms lift from the bed. Inviting. Rhys pushes you forward encouragingly, both of them waiting to see what you’ll do. When you remain immobile for too long the High Lord squeezes your throat roughly, making you cough before you’re lowering yourself shakily onto your hands and knees. 

Your arms tremble with more than just weakness and terror as your palms press into the mattress, lifting over her open legs instead of sliding beneath them, and part of you waits for Rhys’a bruising hands to grip you by the nape of your neck or jerk you back by your hair to return you to her cunt. But no pain is delivered, and you’re allowed to crawl further up, your body cradled between Feyre’s thighs.

Her fingertips dance over your shoulders and it’s enough force to have your arms melting, settling yourself to her chest, cheek laying between her breasts. 

Feyre’s skin is hot, body lush and perfectly curved to accommodate your own. Her arms skate across your shoulders, wrapping themselves across their width, tangling her fingers through your hair, running fingertips through the strands at the ends. 

You collapse entirely, the scrape of her nails scratching lethargically between your shoulder blades unlatching a final clasp as your mind spills throughout your skull. 

Rhysand’s palms press themselves into the back of your hips, darkness bringing your legs wider between Feyre’s. A shudder runs up your spine as Rhys kneels over you, able to feel the heavy weight of his cock between your thighs, his skin dragging against your own, pinning your legs into the mattress while Feyre remains freely beneath you. 

A whimper lifts through your throat as the High Lord spreads you apart and Feyre brushes her lips to the crown of your head. She lies to you over and over again, It’ll be okay; You’re almost there; Just let him settle in; You’ll feel good soon enough, you know you will. Awful, repulsive lies you don’t want to believe, and yet for some reason they feel closer to truth than ever.

Rhys keeps you spread apart as he presses his cock to your entrance, your hips squirming weakly but your legs are pinned, arms too heavy to argue, locked to Feyre’s chest while she pushes tenderness into your hair. More whimpers spill from your lips as he begins to inch his way in, rolling forward then back, rocking himself further and deeper until he’s once again stretching your limits. 

“Careful,” Feyre hisses when she feels you jolt against her stomach, the twitch in your fingertips. You can imagine how his violet eyes gleam with pleasure at your reaction, twinkling as he looks at his mate and bucks his hips softly, eliciting a moan from your mouth. Feyre almost coos at the noise, palms cradling your head as fingers continue to brush through your hair. “Feeling good now? Didn’t I tell you? You always end up liking it.” You try to squirm against her but they’ve sucked out all your fight, leaving you cold and dangerously empty. Space they plan on claiming. 

Once he’s all the way in Rhys slides his hands around your waist, darkness looping around your arms and beneath your shoulders to pull you upright. You whimper as cold flushes your bare font, and Feyre growls lowly, making to sit upright before her husband’s darkness ties her back down. 

“Rhys,” Feyre growls, “give her back.” 

Hot breath tickles the space behind your ear then teeth are nipping at your lobe. Hands invade across your body, breath gasping from your mouth as hot palms soothe the cold of your skin, cupping your breasts. “I’m letting her look,” Rhysand whispers, fingers moving higher to flex around your throat. “Letting her admire.” 

The aggression dulls in Feyre’s eyes, a pink colouring her cheeks as she shifts on the bed, opening her thighs a little wider—as if you’ll be awed by the offer and dive right in. 

“For someone who’s suffered so much of her life, you’ve been disgracefully ungrateful to my mate,” Rhysand murmurs beside your ear, soft enough you wonder if Feyre can hear him. You don’t like it when it’s only him touching you. Too dangerous. Too reckless. “Aren’t you thankful that she saved you?” 

Anger catches like wildfire and you twist your head to look at him but the moment his indomitable violet eyes lock with your own it’s snuffed out, ice skittering up your spine. Rhys smiles, as if he knows exactly how much terror he puts into you. “Aren’t you grateful Feyre came back for you?” 

“Rhys,” Feyre huffs, her hips circling with frustration as he keeps her hands pinned to the bed, unable to even touch herself. 

“Look at her,” Rhys whispers, close enough you think you feel the flutter of air from his lashes with each blink. Fingers squeeze your jaw but they’re without their usual bite as he directs your attention to his mate. “Isn’t she beautiful? Doesn’t she deserve to have whatever she wants?” Whoever she wants, too. 

You try to squirm away but his grip tightens in warning, his free arm banding across your hips as he presses himself deeper into your cunt. “Doesn’t she?” It’s clearly a warning—one of the gentlest you’ve ever received from him. The skin around your knuckles tightens, nails biting into your palms before turning slack, head hanging as you yield one faint dip of your head. All he wants is an answer, and you know if you keep the right one from him… The memory of pain still hasn’t faded from your skin. 

Rhysand turns you back to face him, tilting your chin so he gets to look down on you and not for the first time you wonder what he sees. Is there any way he’s oblivious to your disgust? But he lays his mouth atop your own gently this time and you force your body to remain calm, steering away the tension that seeks to thread itself through your muscles. 

You know you want us. Rhysand tells you. You know you want her. I know you’ve wanted her, too. You’re the only one refusing to acknowledge it. 

Because you’re lying. You think. 

Am I? 

Tension sears its way through your body as his hand slides down to cup your heat, fingers parting around the thick stretch of his cock. You come every time we touch you, drip down your thighs at the thought of her. You know it would be better to fall into us. 

You’re cruel, and manipulative, and barbaric, and-

Loving. 

An actual laugh croaks from your throat at that. In what kind of twisted world does anything they’ve done to you be considered loving? 

His tongue flicks across your lips then he’s plying you open, swiping along your teeth to taste the inside of your mouth. You’re disgusting, you think, but the thought only echoes through your empty mind. Instead you become aware of Feyre speaking, her voice so at odds to the cruelty of the High Lord. Your body aches to lay against her again, to rest yourself against her body, bare skin on bare skin. Even if it would change nothing, the desire is becoming too apparent to keep denying. 

You gasp when Rhys’ hot mouth opens over your throat, sucking marks into your flesh. His thumbs swipe across your nipples, grazing the sensitive peaks and you realise his darkness has retreated from Feyre. 

Stark heat flushes your cheeks as you spy the meandering path of her fingers as they trail over her stomach, slipping away between her legs as she runs her hungry eyes over you. You want to hide away from that ravenous hunger. Bury yourself in soft darkness that shields rather than contains. You squeak when her fingers instead lift to graze your cunt, their pads trailing over the bump of your clit. Rhysand groans softly beside your ear as you tighten around him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Feyre whispers, now sitting up from the bed, her hands lifting to wrap around your waist. “So perfect. So pretty.” She presses a light kiss to above your navel, affording a small lick to the bare skin that makes you shudder. It’s too warm in here. Something bubbling beneath your flesh. Her kisses lift higher, until her pink mouth rests between your breasts, and you’re looking down into her blue-grey eyes. 

Fingers push between your legs again, sliding up and down over your centre, rubbing over your clit while Rhys keeps himself flush to your back. Feyre brings her fingers back up, a pulse of arousal passing through your body as she pushes her fingers across her tongue, tasting you. A whimper escapes your sealed lips, hips shifting faintly and you’re unsure if it’s out of protest or desire. 

“…Feyre…”

Almost as soon as her name is out she’s moaning, fingers returning to your clit to rub and circle. That warmth begins to intensify, a tingling need centring between your legs. Your own hands half-heartedly land on her shoulders, as if trying to push her away but it’s useless even pretending to try. “I’m sorry for stealing you away so suddenly,” Feyre whispers, and you freeze. Staring at her. “But you seemed so isolated. I missed you. I missed being with you. Being beside you.” She kisses your sternum. “I hated not being able to be affectionate with you.” Another kiss. “You don’t understand what it was like.” Kiss. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” she whispers, “but you were never brave enough to follow after me.” 

“You walked away first,” you whisper, before hearing how much like a confession it sounds. But Feyre shakes her head. “You denied me,” she whispers, “you denied us.” 

“I don’t want both of you,” you cry with more force than you’ve felt in a while. “If I’ve ever felt anything it was only for you.” 

Rhysand’s teeth find light placement in your shoulder. Cruel creature, he seems to be saying.

Feyre’s brows curve upward, as if disappointed you don’t like a gift she’s been preparing to share. “You don’t like the feel of his cock?” She asks softly. Again, Rhys groans as you squeeze him. “You don’t like how he fucks you?” 

“Feyre, stop.” There are tears in your eyes. 

“You don’t like the way his hands feel? What about his fingers?” She licks slowly between your breasts. “What about his tongue?” 

“Feyre stop.” 

“What about mine?” She continues. “Do you like it when I touch you? Do you like feeling my hands wrap around your skin? How do my fingers feel inside of you?”

“Feyre…” You plead. 

“What about my mouth?” She whispers, resuming the idle circles of your clit. “You love my tongue, don’t you? I know you like it when you’ve got fingers inside of you and a mouth over your clit. You like tasting me too, don’t you?” 

“Feyre!” 

“What about when you’re on your back and I’m touching you like it’s only us?” 

“Yes.” You cry, eyes squeezing shut as tears finally fall down your cheeks. 

Feyre’s face lights up, and both her hands are cupping your cheeks. Not even a single thought in your head considers resistance as Rhys’ arms release you and you fall with Feyre back into the bed, falling into her arms, falling into her embrace. “Then stay,” she murmurs, stroking your skin, petting your hair. “You’ll learn to like him,” Feyre whispers, “you’ll get used to him. Learn to love it.” You try to shake your head but at last Rhys is moving his hips, grinding up against you so his cock rubs up against those spongey, tender spots. “Sweetness,” Feyre whispers as though she’s sad. “You will,” she promises, “just open yourself up to it. Open up to me again.” 

You want to shake your head. Want to demand that they stop. But of course you can’t. 

The High Lord bucks his hips and a moan spills from your mouth onto Feyre’s skin. You hate how good he feels. How biologically pleasing he is. How satisfied you are from just having the thick weight of his cock stuffing you full, the touch they have on your skin as if they really want you. 

They really do. They wanted you enough to take you. To cling onto you even through every protest and scream. 

Maybe they’ve finally done it. 

Maybe they’ve finally made their way inside.

The last drops of energy are sapped from your bones as Rhysand begins drawing his hips back and fucking you in earnest, Feyre’s legs bending at the knee to cradle your body with her own. It feels good like this. To have her arms banding around your body while Rhys carefully drags the pleasure from your flesh to the surface. “See?” Feyre whispers. “It feels good doesn’t it?” 

You want to shake your head. Want to deny her. Deny both of them. 

But you can’t. 

You’re only falling deeper. 

Moans reach your ears and you know they’re your own. Rhys has always been an expert on pleasure. Knowing where to press and where to push to have sopping wetness greeting him whenever he pleases. 

His hips buck sharply, pressing himself deep inside your cunt and you gasp as the solid heat of his chest presses down on your back, sandwiching you so intimately between them. Feyre pushes hair from your temple but you can hardly be bothered to seek him out. Rhys’ tongue licks up your throat, lips splitting in a grin when you squeeze him, your hips swirling faintly to feel him against your inner walls. 

“Like that?” He whispers. “After all this time, all your fussing and protests, all for you to hardly be able to speak from how good I’m making you feel, huh?” A moan that sounds too close to agreement escapes your mouth, and Feyre coos as your nonsensical noises. “What a good cunt you have,” Rhys purrs, rocking his hips to yours. “At least she’s always known what she wants, even if you’ve been too pretty and dumb to make up your mind.” 

He thinks you’re pretty? A fae thinks you’re pretty? 

Rhys’ chuckle is bone deep, dripping into your marrow and filling you with heated arousal that’s too thick and sticky for you to keep yourself together. 

“So pretty,” he breathes, wicked amusement clear in his voice. “Pretty, ditzy, and dumb.” 

Pretty.

The rest of your thinking is pushed away as Rhys pulls back, the pace deepening; hardening. Your eyes squeeze shut, body limp and pliable beneath his ministrations of pleasure. He’s slamming into you, using the thick length of his cock to push and press and rub and touch every place you could want, muscles flexing weakly in your legs in attempts to push your hips the slightest bit upward from the bed so he might find it easier. 

“You’re being so good,” Feyre praises, continuing to stroke your hair, gently petting as she holds you close. “You’re taking him so well. So perfectly.” 

Perfectly, she said. Your cunt aches from the praise. A relief from their cruelty. 

Rhys touches a spot inside of you and your spine curves, toes curling as embarrassing sounds release from your chest, mewling and whining for him to push against it again. “Rhys…” you plead, fingers trembling as his name teeters off the edge of your tongue. Your hips swirl, mouth opening to ask him again but then he finds it and your eyes roll. 

The High Lord’s fingers wrap around your throat, forcing your neck to crane far enough back until you can see him looming above you, so unfairly lean and tall, even to fae standards. His mouth twists into a half-cruel, half-amused smirk, cocking a brow. “More?” 

There might be drool spilling out the corner of your lips, “More…” His smirk widens, grip leaving your throat to land a light slap to your cheek before digging his fingers in. “Want my cock? Want it harder?” 

“Uh-huh…” It sounds stupid even to your own ears, and humiliating heat warms your features. Rhysand’s laugh is edged with condescending pity, delivering another small slap that has your eyes stinging, “Tell me. Say you want it.” 

You stare at him, unable to shake your head. You’re not doing this again, but his cock feels so good coupled with Feyre’s tender touches, fingers playing with your hair while she watches her mate enjoy you. Violet eyes gleam, then a stinging pain smacks against your cheek, fingers digging in to the hinge of your jaw as he spits into your mouth. Your toes curl, cunt squeezing his cock tight as something flutters about between your legs. 

“Say it,” the High Lord demands.

“I love it,” you whisper in a rushed breath. “I-…I want it. Please.” 

“And what do you want?” He goads, not yet allowing you to swallow. 

“You-…” You cut yourself off, gagging beneath his hold, tears stinging your eyes. “You,” you pant, fumbling out words you think he might like. “Both of you. Feyre. Rhys.” Pupils expand as he hears his name in your moan, colour warming his tan skin, “Good enough.” 

He releases your throat and you swallow, hauling air down into your lungs only for it to be shoved right back out again, cheek falling to Feyre’s chest as Rhys slams his cock into you, bucking his hips to a brutal pace that might have driven you up the bed if Feyre wasn’t keeping you in place. Your moans fluctuate in volume, growing louder whenever his cock hits that special spot you hadn’t known existed before them. 

You cry as the orgasm blazes through your body, every muscle strung taut as pleasure sets you on edge, pulsing through your body with the force of feverish heat. Your hips buck against his, pressing as tight as you can against him as even your lungs seize, rendered silent from the onslaught of searing pleasure. With a final sharp buck, Rhysand finds his tipping point, hot breath panting up the nape of your neck and you yelp as his two palms roughly pin you in place as he fucks out his orgasm, feeling more like his toy beneath the dominating grip. 

Hot cum spills into your cunt, spurting out in thick waves that fill you up, feeling the muscles flexing in his thighs every time he slams himself in and your vision turns hazy. Dark spots dance through your vision until all you can sense are tipping colours and a blaze of passion up your spine, liquid heat pooling in your belly. All the while Feyre’s pressing kisses into your hair and stroking the crown of your head, helping you through. 

You have no way of knowing how long it’s been when you next open your eyes. You’re in the same position as you were before except a little further up Feyre’s body, hips no longer cradled between her legs but now with your face resting at the junction of her shoulder and neck, breath fanning ticklishly across the intimate expanse of skin. 

When your breathing pattern shifts, Feyre tilts her head and you become aware of her arms wrapped around your body. One hand splayed across your lower back, and the other- 

Heat swarms your features, squirming faintly to feel more of her, spine curving. 

“Awake now?” Feyre asks, rosey lips pulling upwards in their corners. She leans forward, pushing a kiss to your forehead. “Rhys’s gone for the moment but he’ll back soon,” she assures, watching you carefully as she gauges your reaction. Your head lolls, lids feeling heavy, body still tingling from pleasure. “We didn’t want any dripping out while he was away,” Feyre murmurs, her heart beating faster upon hearing your moan when she curls her fingers inside of you, how you circle your hips downward, trying to push them deeper. 

In reward for your lethargic adoration, Feyre pushes her two fingers deeper, slowly pumping them in and out, her cunt tingling with need when she feels you squeeze her as if you’re also trying to keep all of him tucked up inside of you. 

Just a little longer and you’ll be theirs, forever. 

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna @acoazlove

feysand taglist: @girlmadeofavocados @zara-aliza08

[sssigil]

Big Juicy

posting twice today because this thought wouldn't leave my brain literally ghost face makes me feral like them or any masked slasher killer ahhhh ^_^ ♡

Summary: Bimbo reader has a special uninvited guest visit her tonight, she doesn't even hesitate I mean who wouldn't fuck a masked killer ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Warnings: PURE FILTH, mask kink, spit kink, pussy slapping, degrading, size kink kinda, oral M n F receiving, he slaps u, he spanks you too, unprotected sex (don't do that), choking, biting, a little blood, mentions of killing, breeding if u squint, that's it enjoy <3.

It was currently eight at night and you had been in your dorm all day noting going on in your pretty little mind. You were laying on your tummy legs up kicking as you scrolled through your phone humming along the music playing. You had been blasting Ayesha Erotica this whole time that you hadn't notice your door opening with how loud the music was playing.

He saw you laying there, you were wearing the cutest skimpiest outfit he couldn't help but rub his groin. You body was facing your wall so he had a good view up your denim mini skirt, he could see your baby pink lace panties that barely covered your lower lips and he fucking loved the white thigh highs that covered your legs.

Ethan came here to kill you but he just couldn't help himself. He was now behind you, knife on his right hand as he lifted the knife ready to stab you on your back but before he could impale it he saw your pretty face now facing him. Pretty lips glossy with your gloss, doe eyes had slightly big falsies with pink glitter surrounding your eyes. You looked so cute.

"holy fuck am I about to get fucked by a masked killer" you exclaimed looking at the masked figure now sitting up on your bed dropping to your knees grabbing your phone clicking the camera app. You had a mirror facing your bed and you had the bestest idea, you position yourself left hand wrapping around the figures leg both thighs straddling his foot, you pointed your phone to the mirror making sure to get you both puckering your lips and taking a picture.

"OMG! we look so cute look look" you squealed looking up to the mask figure so he could see the picture you just took. Ethan was dumb founded he didn't know how to react tilting his head down to look at you, you were smiling at him arms still wrapped around his leg as you rested your head on his thigh phone not set down to the side.. God this girl was so stupid he had to take advantage of this.

"wait do you want to use my mouth?" you asked him almost vibrating waiting for him to answer in some sort of way. You felt yourself drip when you saw him nod his head pushing yourself off of him so you can push him on the bed. He sat there still looking at you waiting for you to make a move. and you did you went to move the thick black material off so you could have access to his black pants.

You began to unbutton the pants he wore gasping when his cock just sprung out, he wasn't wearing any undergarments it soaked you up even more. "You came prepared huh" giggling at him. He finally felt you wrap your hand around his cock placing your mouth right above his tip so you could spit on it. You used your spit to lube him up jerking him off, you moved your hand up and down and up and down slowly. "come on say something pretty please, wanna hear you" you whined at him, you loved when men were vocal and he wasn't doing that all so you hated him.

He didn't budge one bit when you begged so you did what had to be done. You took him down your throat nose pressed u against his neatly trimmed pubes, you swallowed around the head of the cock keeping it there for a little making sure to look up at his masked face. You pulled back a string of drool connecting your bottom lip to his pink tip. "wanna see you" you begged even more but he didn't listen to you instead his gloved hand went to push at your head signaling you to take him back in your throat.

You bobbed your head making sure to use your hands to jerk off the excess that didn't fit in you tiny mouth. "so big" you'd moan when you pull away from him, you had tears running down your tinted cheeks and you want nothing more than to have him touch you. As if he could read your mind he moved your head so you could pull of his cock, hand on your chin making you look at him lips pouted red and shiny, he could hear the soft fast breaths coming from you. You saw his other hand go for his mask, finally you thought, you saw him lift his mask over his mouth but it didn't go any further.

You saw his mouth move a little before he positioned his mouth over yours making sure to squish your cheeks so you could open your mouth for him. You almost came in your panties untouched as he spat in your mouth making sure you swallowed his spit then doing it again. He lightly slapped your cheek cock twitching at how good you sat there swallowing his spit. He then pushed you back to your original position pulling his mask back down. He didn't even make you wait grabbing his cock which was resting on his lower stomach.

He wanted to see you beg for it so he did a little bit o teasing he lightly tapped the tip of his cock on your tongue making you paw at him causing him to slap you. "come on mr ghost face don't tease me please" you whined at him opening your mouth again and he did not hesitate he stuffed himself down your throat make sure you couldn't move. This action made your eyes water, looking up at him batting your eyelashes trying to make the tears to go away.

You felt him finally let go easing himself out your throat letting you breath just for a second before you felt him do it again but this time you felt him thrust himself fucking himself into your throat. You could hear small soft grunts come from him and he bucked his hips up into your mouth and you just couldn't help but reach your tiny manicured hand down your body slithering into your panties rubbing your little button fast whimpering. Then you heard him, he let out the deepest and raspiest 'fuck' as he came down your throat making sure you didn't get away. He didn't care if you choke he just NEEDED to have your little throat stuffed with him cum.

''Mmm'' you moaned once he pulled out small amounts of his cum dripping from the corner of your mouth. You felt him move his hand from your head to your chin wiping the drool and cum off. You made sure to swallow what he gave you so you wouldn't disappoint him, you still had your hand in your panties and you felt yourself grind against your hand just wanting some sort of release and Ethan noticed that.

He got up from where he sat surprising you when he picked you up and laid you on the edge of the bed. You were placed on your tummy making sure to place a small pillow under your belly, sock covered legs hanging off the edge. He made sure to signal you to arch tour back towards him you obeyed like always cause you just loved pleasing men, I mean as long as they did the same duh. You felt him rub and kneed your inner thighs moaning and whining literally begging him to just do something you just needed him so bad.

He finally gave in pulling your mini skirt down your legs but your panties stayed on. Ethan made sure to tease your cunt through the thin baby pink material, pinching your clit through it then rubbing soft but rough circles. He would pull at the material almost giving you a wedgie but that gave you enough friction on your clit that had you whining.

"Please just touch me please" you felt your hole clench around nothing but air as his gloved hand slapped your ass hard you cried out. When he finally had enough of that he pulled your panties down your legs stuffing them in his pocket for safe keeping. You heard him shuffle behind you and you wondered what he was doing so you went to turn your head but before you could see he pushed your head into the mattress "stay there" he used his voice once again making your legs almost close but his thighs stopped you from doing so.

Ethan had lift his mask off slightly just enough for his mouth and nose be free. He lowered himself to his knees taking the position you were in a couple minutes ago. You gasped loudly into the pillow as you felt his tongue lick a strip down your slit to your clit. Both of his hands went to grab your ass just to kneed them and spread them apart so he can have all of you. You felt his tongue make circles around your nub making sure to suck on It a little before letting go. Ethan had never done this but he's so glad he watched videos of this. He always wanted to eat someone out and now he finally had the chance.

He made sure to spread your lips apart backing up a little and spitting on your cunt watching his drool drop and slip into your hole which was clenching like crazy, poor thing he thought. He heard the most nastiest moan come from your pretty little mouth thank fuck he stuffed your face into that mattress you're so loud. He made sure to lick at your hole loving the feeling of your walls clenching around his tongue moaning into your cunt so you could feel the vibrations on your cunt. You felt one of his cold hand makes its way to your clit rubbing at it and you lost it thighs shaking as he kept the pace of his tongue on your hole. You felt him pull back again both his fingers and mouth left you, you were confused on why but that confusion leave you once you felt his hand slap your mound.

"that hurts so good mister" you moaned as you felt him slap your cunt more and more the more you moaned and whined. You didn't want him to stop touching you, you wanted to be his forever ♥.

Once Ethan stopped his rough treatment you finally felt what you were waiting for, his cock. You felt him rub his cock on your pussy lips making sure to coat it with your wetness. You were such a messy whore and Ethan loved it, he wanted to keep you for ever. You felt his cock head nudge at your clit making you jump at the feeling you felt yourself so close to coming. Ethan had enough of his own teasing and finally he stopped himself into your tiny cunt. You let out a pornographic moan as you felt that tight knot in your tummy snap conning around his thick cock.

"fuck me" you said softly but he heard you and the feeling of you coming around him made him feral. You felt so warm and tight he just couldn't help but fall on top of your small tiny body and fuck up into you make sure to kiss your neck leaving bright red marks as he sucked and licked your skin. You loved the feeling of his heavy big body on top of you taking advantage of you it made you gush even more. Ethan could feel the ring of cum you left at the base of his cock slow began to soap up. This was so gross he could feel your cunt clench trying to keep him in there as he fucked you making sure to hit so deep inside you, literally hitting your cervix at how deep he was.

He just couldn't help it, his gloved hand had made its way up your throat squeezing the sides of your throat making sure to pull you closer to him arching your back even more fucking yourself back into his cock matching his pace.

"You're so dirty" Ethan spoke through his mask. "you know I was gonna kill you right, but no instead I'm having my way with you" his words should make you scared but instead made you moan not wanting him to stop. He felt you get tight again, he knew you were close so he dragged his non gloved hand down your tummy to your nub making sure to rub that little button just enough to have your thighs shake. Hips still fucking into you so rough and fast because he just couldn't get enough of this tight warm soaping pussy he just wanted more.

"Gonna cum please, please cum in me pretty please" you whimpered out just wanting to feel him let go inside of you, wanting to feel his warm milk stuff you full and drip out of you. You felt his pace become a little sloppy at your words but he kept the thrust rough. He just couldn't help at the thought of stuffing you full and claiming you like that he just HAD to do it.

"Gonna stuff you full princess, you're mine" he groaned biting down on the space between your neck and collarbone making you whine and you feel blood drip into his mouth and that made you moan. He continued to groan and moan into your ear gloved hand leaving you throat to grip your hip pistoling into your cunt other hand still on your clit. Then he felt it, he felt you come undone all over his cock with a loud cry and he followed behind making sure to stuff himself fully inside you before cumming.

You felt him thrust into you a couple more time make sure to milk everything from him before pulling out turning you to your back. You could feel everything gush out your cunt and he just couldn't help. He found your phone on the floor making sure to swipe right to open the camera. He made sure to press your legs together with one hand pushing them back against your chest getting a good view of your dripping pussy and adorable fucked out face and taking a picture. You heard the click of the sound of the camera surprising you but not really caring.

"Wait so who are you?" you questioned at this point Ethan was also pussy drunk so he didn't give two fucks. He pulled the hood off his head and proceeded to pull his mask off smirking at your surprised face.

"ETHAN" you exclaimed, mind still hazy but you knew Ethan, he was your best friend. Your best friend just fucked you so good it had you drooling, he literally stuffed himself in you and came inside of you. "What's up bunny, I had fun but now I gotta go" he laughed as you still had a shocked and confused face but said nothing. You just let him tuck himself back into his pants making sure to leave a small kiss on you lips before placing his mask back onto his head walking out the room.

You still sat there as you got a message from your phone, it was Ethan.

E♡: Making this my home screen angel, you look so cute ;) E♡: 1 Image Sent

You gasped as you saw yourself, it was the picture he had taken after he came inside of you. NGL you did look cute you hummed.

[winchesterwild78]

Unspoken Words pt 3

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, other characters

Warnings: fluff, mention of physical restraint, a little angst, child illness

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This one is about a single mother with a nonverbal autistic daughter who loves Supernatural. The reader is going to a Supernatural Convention with her daughter and things unfold from there. The daughter character is near and dear to my heart. I have someone very close to me who is nonverbal, but he’s such an amazing kid. 

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Jensen is single in this story. 

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

Later that morning we got ready for the last day of the convention. Jensen ended up letting Lily keep his shirt because she refused to let it go. She wore it to the convention and was upset when I tried to take it. 

Jensen knelt down, “Lily, do you like my shirt?” She smiled, but didn’t look at him. She gripped the shirt tighter. “Well, I tell ya what, you can keep it as long as I get to come visit you and it.” She smiled wider, “Jensen?” He chuckled, “Yeah, Jensen.” He kissed the top of her head and I stood smiling. 

“I guess I have to keep coming around, visitation and all.” He smiled as he walked up to me. He placed a soft kiss on my lips before walking out to the stage. The handler with him softly gasped, looking between Jensen and I. We watched his panel from the back and Lily got a few more pictures with some of the cast. She clung to Jensen whenever he was around. He didn’t seem to mind, because he took her around to meet everyone like she was his. It made my heart swell. When it was time to leave Lily cried. Jensen held her tightly, “Hey, I promise I’ll see you tomorrow. Your mom is taking you to the park, and I’m gonna tag along.” She squealed, “Jensen play?” He nodded, “Yeah, I’m going to play.” 

The end of the convention came faster than I wanted it to. Lily had an amazing time and it was the day of the first concert. Since I wouldn’t see Lily tonight I wanted to spend the day with her. I had already planned a trip to the park, and Jensen wanted to tag along. He wasn’t going to be able to stay all day with us since he had to go do his sound checks, but I was thankful he was coming even for a little bit.

Annie, Mrs. Jones was keeping Lily tonight, and I wanted to make sure Lily was calm and ready. So taking her to the park and having a picnic always seemed to calm her. 

Jensen met us at the park and as soon as Lily saw Jensen she ran to him. ‘Mama, Jensen!” She threw her arms around him and grabbed my hand. “Hey Lily, hey sweetheart.” He leaned in and placed a kiss on my lips and one on the top of her head. 

Lily giggled and ran towards the swings. “Well I guess we better go after her.” He said taking my hand in his. I looked down at my hand in his and then back to him. “Is this okay?” He asked softly. I nodded with a smile, “More than okay, Jensen. It’s perfect.” 

We went to the swings and Jensen pushed Lily. Her legs swinging wildly and her giggles filling the air. I had never seen her react to anyone like she had with him. She was a totally different child with him around and it made my heart happy, but I was scared too. 

What if whatever this is between Jensen and I didn’t work out. Was this just something to pass the time, or was this going to develop into something more. 

I’d see the women he had dated, and I definitely didn’t look like them. Hell, I have extra weight all over, I like to eat and I’m not what most would consider gorgeous. Somehow he sees past all that and thinks I’m beautiful. 

Jensen has a way of making me feel seen, wanted and desired. It scared the hell out of me. The last man that made me feel like that knocked me up and left me. 

Now with Lily, I had to be extra careful who I let in our lives. She loved Jensen, I could already tell he was quickly becoming one of her people. I knew he and I had to have a conversation, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to approach it. 

A little while later Lily was getting hungry, so I grabbed the blanket and basket and walked back to Lily and Jensen. They were running around playing tag and I set up the food. 

Lily ran to me and sat down between Jensen and I. “Mama, eat. Please.” “Wow, she’s talking more and more. Jensen, this is incredible.” He placed his hand on mine, “Yeah it is.” 

I handed Lily her food and picked at mine. Jensen was eating, then noticed I wasn’t. “Hey, you okay?” “Um, yeah. Just thinking about this, well, us.” 

“Well, I’m all ears. What’s on your mind?” 

“I just want to know where this is going. If it’s just a way to pass the time, I get it, but I can’t do that to Lily. If it’s something more I just need to know. I like you Jensen, I really do. I just can’t make decisions for myself anymore, Lily’s well being is my priority. Besides, you’re Jensen Ackles, and I’m well, me.” 

Jensen sat his food down and cupped my face, “Y/N, I don’t want this to be just a way to pass the time. I want you, I want to be in Lily’s life. The other night when we kissed I felt something I hadn’t in a really long time. Being with you and Lily feels comfortable, like home. I know we have things we have to figure out, but I want to figure it out together.” 

He leaned forward and kissed me. Soft at first and then his hands slipped in my hair and he deepened the kiss. 

Jensen’s phone went off signaling it was time for him to leave. My heart sank. “Guess I need to go. I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight. I can’t wait to see rockstar Jensen in action. He laughed, kissed me quickly and hugged Lily goodbye, then left. 

A little while later Lily and I left to head home. I gave her a bath, got her packed and I took her to Annie. I kissed her goodbye and left to head home. 

Walking in the house it was quiet. I jumped in the shower and got ready for the concert. I snapped a picture and sent it to Jensen.

Me: Almost ready. Can’t wait to see you. *1 image attached*

Jensen: Damn, sweetheart. You look incredible. I can’t wait to see you. Just a heads up, my parents are going to be there. 

I swallowed hard. Did he want me to meet them? Should I say hello? Maybe he was telling me that because he was planning on keeping his distance. I took a deep breath, deciding to just let whatever unfold. 

Me: That’s great they still come and support the things you do. I bet your mom is going to take a lot of pictures too. 

Jensen: Oh I know she is. She’s always taking pictures of me. 

Me: That’s what moms do. Let her be proud of her baby. She earned it. 

Jensen 😀 yeah, she’s a great mom. Just like you. 😙

Me: 😊 thank you. See you soon.

Jensen: Be careful.

Sarah came and picked me up and we headed to the venue. The space was intimate, but I could feel the electricity in the air. I overheard a few people talking about Jensen’s parents being there, but I couldn’t figure out who they were talking about. I’d seen pictures of his parents, but that was years ago. I was sure they had changed some since the pictures. 

I was standing near the bar with Sarah when I felt my phone buzz.

Jensen: Hey baby. You look amazing. We’re about to go on, I’ll see you after the concert. 

Me: I can’t wait. Break a leg, Jens. 😘

Sarah and I walked towards the stage and got pretty close. I was so excited and nervous as hell. The lights went down and the stage lights went on, the crowd roared. 

Jensen and Steve took the stage with the rest of the band. Steve started talking, thanking everyone for being there. He and Jensen bantered back and forth and then started singing. 

Jensen’s voice was smooth like whiskey. The crowd around me disappeared as I focused on him. He saw me, smiled and winked. I of course blushed. As I turned to talk to Sarah I saw Jensen’s mom off to the other side of the stage, taking pictures and videos. A smile spread across my face. 

I took a picture of her and sent it to Jensen.

Me: *1 image sent* Now this is the face of an incredibly proud mother. ♥️

The concert was incredible and before I knew it Sarah and I were being ushered backstage. 

We were shown to a room and before the door opened I heard Jensen’s voice. The man walking us back opened the door and Jensen saw me as soon as the door opened. 

He jumped up, walked up to us and kissed me. Taking me by surprise. When we pulled apart everyone was staring. Jensen smirked, “Guess the cats out of the bag, guys, this is Y/N and her friend Sarah, Y/N, Sarah, this is everyone.” I nodded, blushed and said hello. 

Steve immediately jumped up and pulled me into a hug, “So this is the woman who has captured this guy’s heart. I’ve heard so much about you and your daughter, Lily.” I hugged him back and looked over at Jensen who was smiling and blushing a little. 

After Steve chatted with me for a bit, his attention turned to Sarah. The two of them sat on the couch talking while Jensen and I talked to some of the other band members. We talked to Angela and Sheree and they gushed over Lily’s pictures. Especially the ones with Jensen. 

I told Jensen I needed to use the restroom, so he told me where it was. I stood and walked out of the room and down the hallway. As I got to the bathroom I noticed a man standing by the men’s room door. 

I thought it was strange since the bar was closed, but I assumed he worked there. 

I went into the bathroom and came out a few minutes later. The man was still standing there, and I made eye contact with him. “Hey sweetheart, what’s got you here so late?” “Oh, I’m just here with my boyfriend. He’s in the band.”

My heart hammered in my chest. I looked back towards the door, hoping someone would come out but I didn’t see anyone. 

He stepped closer to me and I could smell the alcohol on him. “If you were my girlfriend I wouldn’t let a pretty thing like you out of my sight. Especially in a bar. Lots of bad things can happen.” As he said that he stepped closer, caging me between the wall and his arms. 

“I really should get back. I’m sure he’s ready to leave.” I was terrified and didn’t know if I should scream or what to do. I stood frozen. 

He grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him and he leaned in closer. Tears started to fall from my face. His hot breath blowing over my face and all I could think about was Jensen’s smile and how I wanted him to be here. 

I tried to turn my face away, but he held it in place. The pain of his fingers gripping my face was becoming overwhelming. 

He leaned closer and as he was about to kiss me the door to the room swung open. Jensen stepped out, looked up and saw me. 

“Y/N!” I swear he flew down the hall. Within a second the man was pinned to the other wall and Sarah had me wrapped in her arms. I crumbled to the ground crying. 

The bouncers of the bar grabbed the man and took him out, Jensen was by my side.

“Y/N, are you hurt? Oh baby. I’m so sorry. I should have gone with you. Shhh, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.” He held me tight. My fear started to melt away. I wrapped myself into his arms and held onto his shirt tightly. 

He helped me up and we walked outside. Sarah walked out with our stuff, “Jensen, I think I should get her home. She’ll be okay. I won’t leave her alone tonight.” 

He nodded, but didn’t let go. I wouldn’t let go either. “Sweetheart, let Sarah take you home. I’m gonna grab my stuff and I’ll be over, okay.” I nodded. Sarah helped me to the car, Jensen was loading his stuff as we pulled off. 

Sarah held my hand the whole way to the house. “Y/N, I am so sorry. I should have gone with you. Are you okay?” I just nodded. “Sarah, it’s not your fault. We had no way of knowing what was going to happen. I’m okay.” 

She just nodded. I knew she still blamed herself. 

We pulled up at the house and we went inside. About 5 minutes later Jensen pulled up. I went to take a shower while Jensen and Sarah stayed in the living room. 

“Sarah, is she okay? He didn’t do anything to her did he?” “She’s okay. No. I think he just grabbed her and tried to kiss her. We got to her in time.” He just nodded. His jaw tightened with rage, but his focus was me. 

I heard their muffled voices, but couldn’t hear what they were saying. I knew they both blamed themselves. 

I stood under the hot water, trying to clean the feeling of his hands off me. Nothing was washing away the memory. I cried and couldn’t stop crying. I slid down the wall and cried. 

I felt like I failed Jensen by letting another man get that close to touch me. Me going to the bathroom alone was a stupid move. If Sarah had to go I would have gone with her. 

Jensen and Sarah were sitting in the living room drinking and talking. Jensen’s leg nervously shook. He looked at his watch and realized I had been in the bathroom awhile. 

Sarah noticed too. She placed her hand on his leg, “Hey, I’ll go check on her, okay?” He nodded, “Thanks, Sarah.” 

She got up and walked to the bathroom, “Hey sweetie, are you okay in there?” I couldn’t answer. “Y/N, I’m coming in.” She pushed open the door and walked over, finding me crying. Reaching and turning off the water she grabbed a towel, “Oh sweetie.” She wrapped the towel around me and called for Jensen.

Jensen jumped up and ran to the bathroom. He saw me in tears and Sarah holding me. I looked at her and then at him. My voice barely a whisper, “I’m so sorry, Jensen.” He looked at me and then Sarah, “Sweetheart, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

They helped me to my room and Sarah grabbed me some clean clothes. Jensen sat on the bed holding me. I leaned into him, taking in his warmth and his scent. 

“Sweetheart, I’m going to step out and let you change. I’ll be right back.” I nodded, but really didn’t want him to leave. Jensen stepped in the hallway with Sarah and I changed. 

I opened the door and went straight into Jensen’s arms again. His arms pulled me in tight and held me. Sarah touched my arm, “sweetie, I’m going to the guest room if you need me. Jensen’s going to stay in here with you tonight, okay?” I looked at her and then at Jensen and nodded. 

Jensen and I walked into my room, he pulled the blanket back and we crawled into bed. He snaked his arm around me and pulled me flush to his chest. He placed a soft kiss on the top of my head. “I’ve got you sweetheart. You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.” 

Sleep quickly took over as I laid in Jensen’s arms. 

*Slight time jump to the 2nd concert*

The night of the 2nd concert I was more aware of the surroundings. Jensen had Sarah and I close to the stage and would keep an eye on us. He had a bouncer near us the whole night. 

The air conditioning in the building went out so it was extra hot in the building. Jensen was sweating but good lord did he look hot. I was completely mesmerized by him. 

I felt my body responding to him, and it excited and terrified me. Last night when he held me, everything felt perfect. I was starting to fall for him fast. 

The crowd was even more wild tonight and the way he looked, standing under the hot lights, hair damp from the sweat and his body glistening from the sweat trickling down his neck made my heart beat fast. 

The fan on the stage blew his hair back and when he ran his fingers through his hair I felt my knees go weak. I bit my lip to stifle the moan leaving my mouth. 

Sarah smirked and leaned over “He’s hot isn’t he.” I looked at her and smiled. I nodded yes. Jensen looked over at me and smiled and blew a kiss. I blushed. Sarah laughed, “That man has it bad for you.” I leaned over, “Yeah, I’ve got it bad for him too.” 

Jensen and I looked at each other again and I could see the jolt of energy run through him. He bounced on his feet and danced around the stage. It was amazing watching him. 

By the end of the night I was hot, sweaty and exhausted. Jensen kissed me good night. Our lips and hands lingered a bit longer than before. “I’ll call you tomorrow sweetheart, let me know when you have Lily. Maybe we can grab some lunch or I can come over.” 

I nodded, “Okay. Good night, Jensen.” “Good night, darlin’.” He kissed me again and I got in the car. I sighed softly and Sarah smiled. “Y/N, I’m really happy for you. You deserve this. He’s a really great guy, and Steve isn’t half bad either.” 

“Wait, what?” She smiled, “Yeah, we hit it off last night and exchanged numbers. We have a date Saturday night.” “Oh, Sarah. I’m so happy for you.” “Thanks, I would have never met him if it wasn’t for you. So, thank you.” 

Sarah dropped me off and went home. I sent Jensen a text.

Me: Hey. Just wanted to let you know I got home safely, and did you know Sarah and Steve have a date?

Jensen: Glad you made it home safely. I just got home myself. Yeah. He just told me. He’s a great guy. I promise. 

Me: He better be or I’ll have to beat him up. 

Jensen: I bet you would too. I’m heading to the shower. I’ll see you and Lily later.

Me: Thanks for the image. 😉 I can’t wait to see you later. Lily is going to be so excited. 

Jensen: You’re welcome darlin’, now get some sleep. Good night.

Me: Good night, Jensen.

I jumped in the shower and let my mind drift to the events of the past few days. Going to the convention and everything that’s happened has been a dream come true. 

Jensen has been incredible and above everything Lily talking has been the greatest thing I could have ever asked for. 

The next morning after I got ready I went to pick up Lily. She was excited to see me, but didn’t talk much. Annie said she did great, but she noticed Lily being a bit more reserved last night. “The first night she talked more, last night she seemed a bit off. I’m not sure if it was her missing you or missing someone else.” 

I thanked her and took Lily home. She still had Jensen’s shirt around her and her stuffies he bought her. She wandered around the house looking for something. 

“Lily, honey, are you okay?’’ She just kept walking around. Lily searched every room and when she came back to the living room she was upset. 

“Lily, what are you looking for?” She just grunted. I reached for her and she felt hot. My first thought was the shirt so I tried to take it off of her. 

She cried, “Okay baby you can keep it on. Are you looking for Jensen, honey?” Her big beautiful eyes flicked to mine, for the first time in a long time she made eye contact with me. “Jensen?” 

“He’s at home baby, he’ll be by later.” She started to cry. My heart ached for her, “Baby, he had a late night. He said he’s coming by later to spend the afternoon with us.”

When I placed my hand on her face she was burning up. I grabbed the thermometer and she had a fever of 104.2, I grabbed her and my stuff and we headed to the hospital.

I tried to call Sarah, but it went right to voicemail. I panicked. I called the only other person I could think of, Jensen. 

His groggy voice answered, “Hey sweetheart. Good morning.” “Jensen, I’m so sorry to wake you up, but it’s Lily.” 

He sat straight up in bed, “What’s wrong?” I could hear his panic too, even though he was trying to stay calm. 

“I’m heading to the hospital. Her temperature is over 104. I’m so scared.” “I’m on my way baby.” 

He grabbed his clothes and bolted out the door, speeding towards the hospital. When he arrived at the emergency department he saw me and ran up to me, taking me and Lily in his arms. 

She clung to him and cried. “Shh, I’m here baby girl. We’re going to get you better.” 

The nurse called us back and they started hooking her up to the machines. Tears streamed down my face. The doctor did his examination and ordered some tests. 

Jensen and I sat with Lily, he was holding her in his arms, and holding my hand. I had my other hand on her. She had finally drifted off to sleep in his arms after the medication they gave her to bring her fever down some. 

The doctor came back a few hours later and told us all the tests came back normal. He wasn’t sure why her fever was so high but they wanted to keep her in the hospital for a few days just to be sure. We thanked him and he left. 

We waited for them to transfer her to the pediatric floor. I sat and cried. Jensen held me, “It’s okay baby. She’s going to be fine. She’s in the best place she can be right now.” 

“I know, I’m just scared. This is so hard.” He kissed my forehead, “I know baby. I messaged Steve and he and Sarah are bringing some food. You need to eat to keep up your strength. I’m going to run by your house and get some things for you, then run by mine. I’ll be back by the time she’s moved.” 

“Jensen, you don’t have to come back, I know you’re busy.” “I want to come back, I’m not leaving you alone in this. You two mean too much to me.” 

I nodded, he kissed me and then kissed Lily’s head. “I’ll be back, sweetheart.” 

I sat holding my baby girl and thinking about the man who just walked out of the room. I couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky the two of us were to be loved by him. He didn’t have to say it, but I knew, because I felt the same way. I was falling deeper in love with him too. 

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[sunny44]

All these years (Part 3)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend! Reader

Warnings: slap, fights and maybe more things

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

My parents had already left for dinner at the Leclerc house and I was already showered and getting ready to order a pizza when the doorbell rang.

"I can't believe he really came." I said to myself and opened the door and saw Arthur standing there. “You really came here to get me. Seriously?”

"Of course I came, why didn't you came?"

"I don't want to see your brother, I didn't even want to come to the wedding so I wouldn't see your brother." He put his hand on his chest, feigning fake indignation. "I'm sorry but it's true and at the wedding I can still get away from him but there in your house with half a dozen people I can't."

"Y/n, he didn't even come, there was a problem with the plumbing in his apartment and the plumber couldn't fix it until today, so get dressed and let's go because my mother said I wouldn't have a wedding tomorrow if I didn't take you."

"Okay, let me just put some clothes on and fix my face." He agrees and I go to the bedroom.

I put on a simple black dress and sneakers, did a quick make-up just so I wouldn't look so bad and picked up my things.

I went downstairs and left my house accompanied by Arthur. As soon as we entered the house I could hear the laughter of my parents and his parents.

"Look who I brought!" he said, pulling me along.

"My God, you look beautiful." She says and hugs me. "How you've changed."

"Thank you, Mrs. Leclerc."

"It's just Pescale, darling." She smiles and runs her hand through my hair. "I missed you, it's been a while since you came to visit us, how is Milan?"

"I've missed you too and everything's fine, I've been promoted to head of the urban architecture sector."

"That's wonderful, I know how much you wanted that job."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why do you think?"

"That's great my love, I'm happy for you." My dad hugs me.

He always has a way of finding out about situations.

"Sorry I'm late, the plumber managed to get there early." he says as he walks in and stops as soon as he sees me there.

At that moment everything around me seemed to disappear except for him, it was the first time we'd seen each other in years, after all the best and worst moments of my life we were here.

Facing each other again.

"Hi darling, how are you?" My mom goes over to him and hugs him, and he takes his eyes off me.

"Hi Mrs. Y/l/n, I'm fine, how are you?”

"We're fine too." She smiles.

It had been years since I'd seen my mother smile like that, which made me roll my eyes.

"I thought you weren't coming." Lorenzo says, coming over.

"Actually, the problem was much smaller than it seemed and I managed to get the plumber to come early so everything was sorted. Where's Carla?”

"She's with her parents."

"Hi Y/n.”

"Charles."

"Greet him right Y/n."

"Don't push it, Mom."

"Well, shall we have dinner?" his mother says, changing the subject.

…

The only words we exchanged today were that greeting, then we distracted ourselves with other people on different subjects but always keeping a distance from each other.

"I think I'm going now," I said as I got up.

"Why don't you stay a little longer?" His mom asked.

"I really have to go; I haven't slept since I arrived early this morning, and I'm dead tired. I drove from Milan to here."

"Alright then, especially since tomorrow is the big day."

"We're leaving at 8 in the morning to go to the resort, okay?" Lorenzo said before I left.

"Well, in that case, I think it's best for all of us to go to sleep," Arthur got up from the couch.

"I'm going to stay around; I'm too tired to drive."

"Charles, your old room has your brother's things in it, so you can't sleep there."

"He can stay at our place." My mom said.

"Love, I..." my father tried to say it's a bad idea, but she obviously didn't care.

"Let's go, Charles, there's a spare room and no one will bother you there."

"That's great."

"Did you say something, Y/n?"

"I said 'that's great' in a very ironic way in case you didn't understand that as well."

I grabbed my phone and left there; I couldn't take my mother's jabs anymore or even look at him.

I took off my clothes and put on some pajamas, leaving the room to go to the bathroom and as I was about to open the door, Charles was coming out of it.

"Are you still going to use it?"

"Can you be less rude?"

"Are you going to use it or not?"

"No," he said and I went in.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and after going to the bathroom, I returned to the room, only to be faced with that jerk sitting on my bed.

"Excuse me, can you please leave?"

"We need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave because I want to sleep."

"Please, love."

"Don't call me that. In fact, don't call me anything; forget that I exist."

"It's kind of hard to forget you." He looked me up and down with a malicious look, and I slapped him in the face. "What's your problem?"

"You're my problem, and you're a jerk, too." He laughed. "Look, we haven't seen each other in years, so pretend we never even met and leave me alone."

"I just want to apologize."

"And I don't want to hear it. Nothing you have to say changes what you told me years ago."

"I never meant to say those things."

"But you did, and the fact that you said them means that you considered them to be true, even if only for a moment." He fell silent. "You moved on with your life, and I moved on with mine. I don't want to go back to the past."

"I never wanted this to happen between us. You were the love of my life and I ruined everything out of selfishness. You would never have asked me to choose, and I had no right to do the same to you. I should have supported you as a decent boyfriend would, and all I did was say those horrible things to you." He spoke, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I remembered. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry, Charles, but your apologies doesn’t change anything. Your apologies don't change the fact that I feel disgust when I look at you. The anguish I feel in my chest when I see you is still the same, and that won't change."

"I understand, but I owed you an apology even if you don't accept it," I agreed. "Goodnight, Y/n."

He left and I locked the door. Those words were haunting my mind, and I swear if I weren't so tired, I would have stayed up all night thinking about it.

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[meazalykov]

wrong number

bayern munich frauen x reader

1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6

summary: how is this possible? you asked yourself.

a month has passed by since living in munich.

(you know the drill, pretend the girls (not klara) in these pictures are you instead!)

y/n.l/n

{tagged: buehlklara}

liked by lenaoberdorf, georgiastanway, and 278 others

y/n.l/n my days in munich so far ❤️

view comments

*❤️ by author*

sydneylohmann 🥰

*❤️ by author*

yasmeenbrown I miss you 🥲 <3

y/n.l/n I miss you more <3

*❤️ by author*

lenaoberdorf where is our pics? 🙄🩷

y/n.l/n we need to take some together :D

*❤️ by author*

buehlklara 😎

*7 likes*

wosouser2718 how do you know all of the bayern girls!?

*❤️ by author*

tuvahansen so cute ☺️

---

that evening, as you settle into the couch at home, netflix playing quietly in the background, your phone buzzes beside you. you had just made an instagram post a few hours ago, one that’s now filled with comments from the bayern girls, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friend yasmeen back home. 

she’s calling now, and you already have a feeling what it’s about.

you pause the show and pick up the phone. 

"hey, yas."

"girl," yasmeen starts, her voice playful but curious, 

"what is going on? how are there so many verified people commenting on your insta? like, am i missing something here? how are you suddenly best friends with a bunch of football stars?"

you smile, knowing this question was coming. "oh, you know," you say, trying to keep your tone casual, "i met them through a mutual friend here in germany. we just hit it off."

"mutual friend, huh?" yasmeen’s tone is skeptical, but she lets it slide for now. 

"well, i saw lena oberdorf in the comments. y/n i am a chelsea fan but still know how important that girl is– i know you’re not messing around. i mean, you’ve only been there a few weeks, and you’re already hanging out with pros? i need details, y/n."

you hesitate, not wanting to reveal too much. while yasmeen is your best friend back home, you feel protective of what you’ve found here in munich. 

the friendships you’ve made with the bayern girls feel special, and you don’t want to turn it into something you brag about. you trust them, and they trust you. you just want to respect your friend’s boundaries. 

"yeah, they’re really cool," you say, keeping it simple. 

"but i don’t want to spill too much. it’s still new, you know?"

yasmeen sighs, clearly sensing that you don’t want to go into detail. 

"fine, fine. i won’t push. but just know that i’m totally jealous. if you ever get tickets to a game when i visit you, you better bring me along."

you laugh. 

"i got you, yas. don’t worry."

"alright," yasmeen says, her tone softening. 

"i just miss you. it’s weird not having you around."

"i miss you too," you say, feeling a pang of homesickness. 

"but it’s been good here. i’ve made some friends, and it’s starting to feel more like home."

"good," she says. 

"i’m happy for you. just don’t forget about us back home, okay?"

"never," you promise. 

"you’ll always be my first best friend."

after a few more minutes of catching up, yasmeen hangs up, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you glance at the comments on your instagram post again, smiling at the playful remarks from the bayern girls. 

you feel a sense of peace knowing that you’ve built new friendships in a new country, something you want to protect.

the next afternoon, you find yourself walking down the street toward georgia’s house, your laptop bag slung over your shoulder. georgia only lives a few doors down from you, and today a bunch of the bayern girls are meeting up there to hang out. 

you’re still a little amazed at how quickly you’ve become part of their circle, you’re excited to hang out with your new friends.

when you arrive, the door’s already open, and you hear voices coming from inside. georgia spots you first and waves you in. 

"y/n! come on in!!"

you walk into the living room, where sydney, giulia, lea, lena, sam, sarah, and ana are already lounging around the kitchen island or in the living room. 

"hey, everyone," you say, smiling as you set your laptop down on the coffee table.

"y/n!" sydney says, getting up to give you a quick hug. 

"glad you could make it."

"of course," you say, hugging her back. 

"i just live a couple of doors down, i wouldn’t miss this."

you settle onto the couch, opening your laptop to send a quick email for work. as you start typing, lena moves over and sits closely beside you, her shoulder lightly brushing against yours.

"hey," lena says softly, glancing at your screen. 

"what’re you working on?"

"just an email for work," you reply, glancing at her. 

"i’ll be done in a second. is it okay if i sit here?"

"of course," lena says, her smile easy. 

"i was just curious. i don’t mind watching you work."

you nod, trying to focus on your email, but you can feel the warmth of lena sitting so close. it’s not like you haven’t been around her before, but something about today feels different. 

you realize that you might be developing a crush on her compared to how you feel with the rest of your friends, but you push the thought aside, not wanting to overthink it. 

after all, you’ve barely been here a month, and you don’t want to make things weird.

after finishing the email, you close your laptop and lean back, relaxing into the couch. 

"all done," you say, smiling at lena.

"good," lena says, her eyes sparkling a bit as she looks at you. 

"so now you’re all ours."

before you can respond, sydney calls out from the kitchen. 

"y/n, lena! georgia and i baked something. you have to try it."

you laugh, getting up to see what she’s talking about. sydney holds up a tray with a pumpkin loaf on it, looking proud. 

"we made a pumpkin loaf. want to try a slice?"

"ouu absolutely," you say, grinning. 

"it smells amazing."

sydney cuts you a tiny sample piece and hands it to you. you take a bite, your eyes widening in surprise. 

"this is so good! can i get a full slice?"

"of course," sydney says, laughing as she cuts another slice for you. you sit back down on the couch, enjoying the treat.

before you can take another bite, lena leans over and jokingly snatches a piece of your loaf, popping it into her mouth with a grin.

"hey!" you laugh, swatting at her playfully. 

"that was mine!"

lena grins, chewing slowly. "it’s good," she says, her eyes teasing. 

"thanks for sharing."

the other girls start laughing at the exchange, with giulia chiming in, 

"looks like you’re gonna have to guard your food around lena."

"i’ll remember that next time," you joke, shaking your head in disbelief.

you’re having fun, the atmosphere light and playful as everyone jokes and talks. it feels like you’re surrounded by friends—real friends—and it hits you just how lucky you are to have found this group.

a notification buzzes from your phone, and you glance at it to see a message in the group chat. tuva has sent a link to a concert happening next week and asks if anyone’s interested in going.

"concert?" sydney asks, reading over your shoulder. 

"who’s down?"

"i’m in," georgia says from the kitchen.

"me too," giulia adds, and soon, everyone in the room agrees to go. even the others who couldn’t make it to georgia’s house today chime in with excited messages in the group chat.

"looks like we’re all going then," you say, smiling as you text tuva back.

the rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of laughter, food, and easy conversation. you all end up watching a movie on the big sectional couch in georgia’s living room, the girls casually leaning against each other, some even falling asleep since its getting dark outside. 

you feel warm, wrapped up in the comfort of their friendship.

as the movie plays, you find yourself reflecting on how you got here. it’s wild to think that just a few weeks ago, you were worried about being alone in munich, scared of starting over in a new place. 

now, here you are, surrounded by some of the coolest, most genuine people you’ve ever met.

it all started with a wrong number, and somehow, it turned into this—a new life, with new friends who accept you just as you are. 

they trust you, and you trust them, and there’s a deep sense of belonging that fills you with warmth.

you glance at lena, who’s sitting closest to you, still teasing you from earlier. you feel that little spark again, the one you’ve been trying to ignore, but you don’t overthink it. 

you’re happy, content, and right now, that’s enough.

part four here

[coralinnii]

It’s Him or Grim…and It’s Grim 

Ignoring him to take care of Grim feat: Sebek · Azul · Jade · Riddle genre: fluff note: gn!reader, no pronouns are used, relationships up to interpretation, some of the TWST boys basically taking the L or getting catblocked, 

piece of advice, never bring someone like me to an animal cafe for a date cuz I will ignore you. Also, don't question why I keep changing the banners. I just love messing with pictures of our handsome TWST boys <3

Sebek didn’t say it out loud but he was excited over you visiting him during his club activities. He’s proud to show off his skills on his steed and present his knightly appearance to you. 

Unfortunately, he’s not doing too well when he’s constantly getting into screaming contests with an uninvited guest…Grim 

He didn’t know why he was so surprised though. He should have predicted that wherever you intend to go, the cat-shaped menace will surely follow in curiosity and make a ruckus while he’s here. 

“Nyah, I can ride these crazy horses no problem!” 

“I will not allow it. Beginners need to learn the basics before even attempting to-“ 

Before Sebek could finish, Grim already went ahead and climbed on top of a nearby horse. But, your feline companion accidentally pressed his claws too deeply into the poor horse’s skin and spooked the large animal. 

“Grim!” You screamed when you saw your dormmate being pushed off the horse’s back and landing on his head. You ran to his side while Sebek did his best to calm the horse before it started to run amuck and cause more issues. 

Sebek wanted to scold the reckless cat monster for his actions but he bit his tongue and sighed in exasperation instead since it looked like the konk on the head left Grim feeling woozy. 

“I should bring Grim to the infirmary” you worriedly look at your companion as you cradle his body in your arms. “I’ll see you another time, Sebek. I’m so sorry for disturbing your club time” 

Sebek panicked over your departure, telling you that you could just come back after bringing Grim to the infirmary. He planned so many things today for you, to introduce you to his trusted steed, show off his horse riding skills, and maybe even let you ride with him. 

But you had to decline, wanting to stay by Grim’s side until he feels better. You gave an apologetic smile before you took off with Grim in your arms. You missed the look of utter defeat on the lime-haired freshman. You managed to get out of earshot as Sebek started shouting to himself, declaring to learn from his defeat against that cursed cat. His clubmates however did hear him loud and clear, Riddle looking over in confusion and Silver silently rooting for his fellow knight-in-training. 

“I admit my loss in this battle but I will prevail in our next encounter, Grim. I swear on my honor!”

Azul plans ahead in everything, be it his next business venture or a deal to be made…and definitely when meeting you. He wanted the most optimal results from this meeting he planned with you. He made sure he reserved the best spot in his restaurant that showcases him in the best lighting, the food is to your taste and the ambience sets the mood to his satisfaction. He took everything into consideration. But of course, things don't always go the way he wanted to.

Like Grim coming along with you to your engagement with him. 

“I’m sorry, Azul. Grim was bored in the dorms and Ace and Deuce had make-up classes today” you apologized, Grim in your lap as he gobbled the food Azul had picked out for you. “I hope it doesn’t inconvenience you too much” 

“Of course not,” He lied. “I’m more than generous enough to extend hospitality for even surprise visitors” 

“I gotta hand it to ya, Octavanilla guy! Your food is super delish!” Grim offers his compliments. “I can’t get enough of it!” 

Grim really couldn’t. He ordered seconds and thirds (RIP to your wallet) and didn’t stop himself from practically inhaling the food the moment it reached the table. It was a real mood killer for Azul. The silver-haired entrepreneur couldn’t find his opening and soon he’s left to watch you from the sidelines as your focus was solely on the fattened cat who is grumbling in your lap. 

“Nyahhhh…my tummy hurts~” Grim cried as his stomach ached. You let out a sigh as you did your best to soothe the monstrous feline. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s because you just ate your weight in food” you quipped which earned a weak whine from Grim. 

Azul just couldn’t believe his plan went to ruins by simply adding Grim into the equation. Any attempt for your attention is ripped away by Grim’s loud munching or simply you turning away from his gaze to reprimand the messy feline as you cleaned his dirty face. 

He needs a new plan, and a contingency plan should anything like today happen again. He needs back ups to distract him, perhaps Kalim- 

“Azul” your voice snapped him out from his thoughts. “I might need some money after how much Grim ate today. Do you think I could pick up some shifts in the lounge?” 

Oh, Azul could work with that. 

“Oh no, it seems that Grim has left you in quite a predicament. Come, vent your woes to me”

Jade was excited to show his treasured terrarium collection to you. It would be delightful if you were to grow to share his interest caring for these fascinating flora, something only you and he would share in this whole campus. Imagine…Just you and him alone together, standing close to each other as you admire his projects. 

Well, that’s what he imagined…but often fantasies do not match reality as he was not alone with you as he had hoped. 

“These are some funky lookin’ mushrooms ya got here” Grim narrowed his eyes on one of the colorful mushrooms that seems to have just fully matured. “Henchhuman, you think they’re edible?” 

“I personally don’t think so but you should ask Jade” you turned to Jade, the first time in a while he would add if he were the petty type. But of course he wasn’t. 

“I believe so but I have yet to test my theory on that” Jade smiled down at the small creature which sent shivers down his back. “Are you volunteering yourself for a taste test?”

“Nyah, as if!” Grim yelled out as he backed away from the menacing aura Jade was exuding. In his panic, the monster student accidentally ran his paw over a pair of scissors which snagged his fur and pulled from his skin painfully. Grim let out a painful yelp which made you rush over to your dormmate’s side, worriedly looking over your friend. “Grim, what happened?” 

“My beautiful fur! It got cut!” Grim made an inaccurate assumption but to his defense, it did sting really bad and you could see some of his fur on the pair of scissors. So, you proceeded to check over Grim’s paw for any wounds. 

Jade stood in the sidelines as he watched you handle the monster’s paw, gently sweeping the fur to check for any blood, even blowing on it to ease the poor creature’s pain. The eel merman slightly drooped his shoulders, this was his loss. 

Walking over, Jade picked up the offending scissors that caused all this fuss. His heterochromatic eyes inspected the tool as he admitted that it was getting dull and he should replace them soon or something like this may occur again… Oh? 

You heard something fall behind you which made you turn to know the source. You saw the pair of scissors that Jade picked up back on the floor and your ocean-haired senior was holding one of his hands in the other. “Jade?” 

“Oh dear, it seems that I have accidentally nicked myself as well” Jade looked at you with his best pleading eyes, holding his hand towards you. “Could you help me?” 

“…can’t you do it yourself?” 

“Ah, it hurts quite a bit I don’t think I could focus enough to check my wound” Jade sighed as he clutched his poor hand in his own. He looked to you with pleading eyes and despite your suspicions, you accepted to help your senior and carefully took Jade’s “injured” hand into your own. With your eyes focusing on searching for this supposed wound, Jade smiled as he shared a glance with Grim behind you which scared the poor creature. 

“It seems I have quite the challenge on my hands. How interesting” 

Riddle worked up the courage to invite you to spend the day with him alone and when you accepted, he made sure that everything was perfect. Only Trey was aware of your intimate outing since he offered to take up any non-urgent Housewarden work during Riddle’s day with you so no one else was aware that you and Heartslabyul's leader were meeting. 

Everything was going smoothly, albeit a little stiff in the beginning. Riddle was shocked by how nervous he was. The teacup in his hand was shaking in his grip as he sat just across from you from the small table. 

Eventually the atmosphere settled and soon the two of you relaxed and chatted over trivial topics, enjoying each other’s presence over anything. But alas, good things must come to an end, but not in the way Riddle had planned. Instead, your date was interrupted when the two of you heard a loud call of your name from a distance, from a very familiar voice

“Henchhuman, you went ahead and got grub without me?!” Grim accused you, immediately climbing onto your lap without your complaint. This was his natural seat after all. Then, more voices were heard coming close.

“Grim, there you are. Don’t run off like that- Ahh Housewarden!” Like a storm, Ace and Deuce walked into the once private space while running after Grim then froze in place when they noticed their senior, who seemed to be a really bad mood right now. “Sorry, Housewarden. Grim said he smelled something good and went running over” 

Apparently, Grim was getting hungry and since Ace and Deuce were short on money, the cat-like monster went on the hunt for any morsel of food and caught a whiff of the tarts Riddle had prepared. However, mere tidbits of sweets were not enough to satiate this monster’s blackhole of an appetite. 

“Let’s go to the shop, I want fancy tuna tonight!” Grim whined to you, lightly clawing at your shirt. 

Riddle wanted to scold the furry student for being shameless in his demands but you reassured the redheaded senior that this is a common occurrence, considering you were in charge of handling the allowance you receive from Crowley so Grim tends to ask you to buy things for him. 

“We can go see if Sam has any in stock” you smiled at your gluttonous dormmate then looking to Riddle “I’m sorry, Riddle. I had fun today but we should get going before Sam’s shop closes” 

Riddle, stunned in the sudden shift in his plans, could only offer a nod as you let Grim yank you away to walk faster towards the merchant’s store. He wanted to walk you home and perhaps invite you to another engagement with him. But in the end, he was left in your dust with his other Heartslabyul dormmates and very awkward silence. 

Though three students quickly turned to one as Ace and Deuce silently snuck away from the scene. After being in the Queen of Hearts-inspired house for a while, they can when to book it lest they want to be collared by their hot-tempered Housewarden. 

“I was caught off-guard by that surprise…I will take this as a learning experience for the future”