#we only get to know her through a shadow of her sister!

[p2cresci87]

I’ve had this scene of an Elriel HC rumbling around my head the past couple of days. The HC is that Azriel gets hurt during a mission and Elain senses it. Like she knows exactly where he’s injured because she can feel the pain of his injury too.

Please bear with me as this is the first piece of creative writing I have done since high school, but also I hope you enjoy it 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Reblogs, comments, questions, feedback are appreciated ❤️

The three Illyrian warriors touch down in front of the River House, bloodied and battle weary. The routine reconnaissance mission Rhys had planned once Azriel alerted him of the suspicious activity on the continent quickly turned into an ambush.

Feyre and Nesta rush to their mates as they enter the house. Amren and Mor quickly following behind. Azriel notes the absence of one Archeron sister, but quickly pushes the thought of her aside. She was somewhere in the house, her jasmine and honey scent hitting him as he limped through the doorway.

“What happened?” Feyre asks Rhysand, stepping out of his embrace to eye him more carefully, clearly searching him for injuries. “I’m fine, Feyre darling” he states aloud, as if answering a question she asked him mind-to-mind.

“Ambushed” Cassian responds, “One of Az’s spies was captured and tortured until they divulged information of our arrival on the continent”. A shuddered sob leaves Nesta at his words as Cassian turns and brushes away a wayward tear trailing down her cheek. “It’s okay, Nes. I’m here” he whispers, leaning his forehead to hers.

Shame hits Azriel like a blow to the gut. He blamed himself for what had happened to his spy, he had trained them after all. But what ate at him the most was that he had placed his brother’s lives in danger as well. “I do not blame you, nor does Cass” Rhys speaks into his mind, “We knew Koschei’s army was growing, something was bound to happen sooner or later”.

A knock at the door silences the room. Nuala appears from the shadows to open it, revealing Madja on the other side. “Oh hello dear. I received word I was needed urgently at the River House and came as quickly as I could” the healer says as she steps into the house. Seven pairs of eyes look around at each other, the same silent question being asked amongst them. “Do you know who sent for you, Madja?” Rhys asks.

“I did”.

All eyes turn to the staircase as Elain comes rushing down. Avoiding everyone’s stares, she comes to stand in front of the Shadowsinger. Her eyes, Azriel notes, are red rimmed and shining with unshed tears, as if she’s been crying. Worry and anger simultaneously wash over him - Who hurt her? Who made her cry?

He had. Memories of that Solstice night come flooding back. The hurt in her eyes at his words “This was a mistake”. He had heeded his High Lord’s order to stay away from her but everything from that night - his words, the look on her face - haunted him every night since.

“Elain” Azriel whispers as he comes to rise before her, the movement causing pain to radiate from his side from all the blows he took during their impromptu battle. A pained expression crosses Elain’s face as she looks at his side. “You’re hurt”.

“I will be fine, Elain. I just need some -“

“That’s why I called her. I felt your pain and I called Madja as soon as I could. I..” a sob escapes Elain as she recalls the earlier blinding pain exploding from her side as she sat in her rooms, awaiting news of the brothers safe return. Of his safe return.

“You…could feel my pain?” Azriel asks, eyes wide, surprise flickering across his face. “Yes” Elain answers, “I can still feel it, right here”. Elain’s hand gently touches Azriel’s right side. Her fingers delicately caressing the exact spot he felt his ribs crack during the fight. “I..I don’t know how…and before anyone asks, it wasn’t a vision”.

Azriel can only stare at the female in front of him. Beautiful, even with tears streaming down her face and eyes, red and puffy from crying, she was breathtakingly beautiful. He never needed words with her, and now, knowing that she could somehow feel him within her, he needed to be close to her.

Azriel closes the distance between them as Elain too, can only stare back at him. With his wind blown hair and dry blood freckling his face, he is the most devastatingly handsome male she’s ever known. Elain always saw him, all of the things no one else seemed to notice, and all of the things that they did but never dared to address. Knowing she could feel him, sense him and his needs within herself, she too felt the need to have him closer.

Elain wraps her arms around Azriel’s neck, as his arms wind around her waist, welcoming each other into their arms. His face nuzzles into her neck and breathes in her sweet scent. Home, she feels like home.

The sound of a throat clearing breaks everyone out of the stunned silence from Elain’s revelation and the tender moment unfolding in front of them. “Like I told you lot before, if anyone can sense if something’s amiss, it’s a mate”. Madja turns towards the sitting room. “Now, come along Spymaster, let’s take a look at those ribs”.

[p3ta]

Kasumi Yoshizawa is the ghost haunting the narrative of Royal and so help me God I'm pulling out a Ouija board

[loves0phelia]

Hi! I don’t know if you’ve watched part 2 of outer banks yet, and if you didn’t this request is a spoiler!!

Can you do JJ Maybank’s sister seeing him die and Rafe is just watching her break down and he’s comforting her while she cries in his arms? I’m sobbing over JJ right now 😭

Thank you!

Gone

Summery: outer banks season 4 episode 10/the anon

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: SPOILERS, death, grammar mistakes.

A/N: i also sobbed, i cant believe it and thank you for requesting love youuu.

The sandstorm hit suddenly. The air was thick, nearly solid with dust. You stumbled forward as the wind blew strongly, You screamed, begging JJ to come down before something terrible would happen but even if you pulled the scarf tighter across your nose and mouth every breath felt like swallowing shards of glass making it hard to speak. 

Everything was clouded and your goggles were smeared with sand dust. It was impossible to see your brother who was up high on that statue trying to find the blue crown you, the pogues and Rafe have been risking your lives for.

“Come down JJ!” You screamed as loud as you could, hoping he could hear you over the screaming wind. 

A surge of panic rose in you, he wasn't listening, only going higher and higher to reach the top.

“Hurry please!” You screamed again as the sandstorm was getting worse and worse. Squinting your eyes you could see JJ finally descending the statue after a while, carefully holding on to the rock.

“JJ, holy shit are you okay?” You rushed forward to him as he stumbled around frantically.

“I'm good! I'm better actually, I'm great. Look!” he yelled over the storm and held up the blue crown, it felt like a dream having it in front of you.

“No way, you found it” You both looked down at the dusty historical crown in silence for a second, sinking in it the victory that was so rare when it came to you and your twin.

“We got it!” He cheered, pumping his fist, jumping into place from all the adrenaline. The victory cheers didn't last long though, the next thing you knew shots were fired at you from the group who wanted to steal what was rightfully yours.

“Run, run, run” JJ shouted behind you as you ran through the sand blindly and desperate to find shelter.

The sandstorm roared with life around you, Yours and JJ's footsteps vanished almost as quickly as you made them, erased by the wind.

You coughed, your lungs stinging as you struggled to run down the stairs you had found leading inside the monument. 

But suddenly, a shadow appeared out of the storm. A strong hand gripped your forearms and in a sudden movement, your back was pressed on your “father's” chest, an arm around your neck holding on tightly, cutting your airflow and a sharp blade pressed into the side of your face.

“JJ!” you called out, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Let her go!” JJ shouted, his voice trembling with anger. He lunged towards you trying to rip you away from him but he only pressed the blade harder making you cry out. But Groff only shook his head.

You cried, struggling, and your heart pounding as Groff’s grip tightened. You fought against him, but his hold was unbreakable.

“You’re just like your mother,” Groff hissed, his gaze cold and unmoved. “Always standing in my way. Well, this time, you’re not going to stop me. Give me what I want”

“Let her go” He begged.

“If you had listened, we wouldn't be here JJ, you could have had everything. WE could have had the life we deserved as a family. All three of us. But now you get nothing. Nothing at all” Chandler pants like a maniac.

“I already have everything,” JJ says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have everything I ever wanted. You want the crown? Sure, take it. I don't want it. Just let my sister go.”

“Give it to me, hold it out” He reached toward JJ for the precious object, his grip on you not loosening.

In a swift moment, an exchange was made. Groff grasped the crown, and JJ pulled you out of his arms.

“I got you” JJ breathed out with relief, like a weight was removed from his shoulders. He hugged you protectively. Holding your head against his shoulder like a shield. But then again, the victory was cut short.

“JJ, y/n” you were interrupted by the voice of your father, his call made both of you separate and turn to face him, JJ’s body still shielding you from further harm.

“It's a shame…you and I” You furrowed your brows and a gasp came out of your mouth when the sound of flesh being pierced rang out. 

“You should have given me the rope” Time was moving at a slow pace as the scene unfolded. Groff twisted the knife in JJ's stomach before pulling it out rapidly and running out into the desert.

"JJ!" You screamed, your voice raw with terror. You saw JJ stumble back, his hands flying to his side. Dark red blood was spreading through his shirt and across his fingers, and the sight of it hit you like a punch to the gut.

The world narrowed to the scene in front of you as you watched JJ fall, his face contorted in pain. 

“No, no, no” you cried, desperation thick in your voice.

You rushed to JJ’s side, catching him just as he stumbled. He looked up at you, his face pale and stained with tears.

“It's okay JJ, it's okay” You pressed into his wound, shaking terribly, sobbing when he let out a pained groan.

“No, please” you murmured, pressing your hand over the wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. “You’re going to be okay. Just stay with me, okay? Stay with me.”

“Hey, hey,” He whispered, his voice breaking. “Take care of the others for me, okay?”

“No! No” Your breaths shakes, your chest tight with sadness.

“I love you, y/n. You're the best sister anyone could ever have.” His gaze was beginning to drift, his eyes unfocused, and the strength in his grip was fading. Panic clawed at you.

“I love you, please don't go” you begged, but it was pointless he was already gone.

“No! No, no. Please! JJ, please” you shaked his shoulder weakly.

“John B!” You screamed, your chest burning from the lack of oxygen your lungs were getting.

“Pope! Rafe!” Your hands gripped your brother refusing to let go.

“Please JJ!” Your heart shattered completely, a part of you gone forever. Your brother, your twin, your best friend, the other half of your soul, gone. 

“Please” You pressed your forehead against him, your tears falling over the blood-soaked shirt.

The pogues came running towards you, sinking to their knees, calling out to him, crying, sobbing, mourning.

Everything in you gave out as you held onto him, you couldn't even fight when hands grabbed onto your shoulder to bring you away from your brother's corpse.

Your body fell limp into Rafe's lap. His hands held your body up as if he was your lifeline. 

“It's gonna be okay” He whispered against your forehead but you barely registered any of it, only sobbing, and screaming in pain against him. 

The Pogues stood in a tight circle, all eyes fixed on JJ as if somehow their stares alone could bring him back. But no one spoke, and in the heavy silence, the truth crashed over them, settling deep in their bones. JJ was gone.

Kiara’s shoulders shook, a small, trembling motion that quickly overtook her entire body. She fell to her knees, hands pressed to her mouth as she fought to hold back the sobs. 

Pope was beside her, his eyes frantically looking over the scene, he didn't want to believe any of it, as if it was a cruel joke.

John B stood, rigid.  His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, and his jaw was set, teeth gritted as he tried to hold it all in, to keep the pain from breaking him apart. 

Rafe's arms wrapped around you gently, his hand resting on the back of your head as he let you fall into his chest. You buried your face in his shoulder, the grief and sorrow pouring out in waves as he held you.

He didn’t speak of the rivalry, the old wounds and the bitterness between your families; none of that mattered now. At this moment, all he saw was your pain, and he was there, his own heart breaking a little as he watched you crumble.

When the sobs finally subsided, leaving you weak and exhausted, Rafe pulled back slightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with something you’d never seen in him before—softness, understanding. 

“It's okay,” he murmured, his voice a promise, his hand gentle as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “I’ve got you.”

You sat on the sand as a fire crackled in front of you, you had just buried him, the silence was thick nobody wanted to believe the truth. 

Your head pounded, even when you were softly laying on Rafe's legs using them as pillows. His calloused fingers gently rubbed your hair and you tried to concentrate on the movement in an attempt to forget about the previous moment but you failed.

“Groff said he was going to Lisbon” Rafe whispered above you, making your eyes open and looking up at him. His eyes met yours and he continued.

“If he was my friend or my brother… I would go after the guy that just killed him” The mention made your heart burn but he had a point.

“He's not wrong” Kie whispered, agreeing with your inner thoughts. You snuggled against Rafe's legs one last time before sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“JJ would already be on his way to kill him if it was one of us,” you said and everyone's eyes snapped towards you, those were the first words you had spoken since it happened. 

“He'd get even,” John B added.

“Let's get revenge,” you said, your voice more confident than it was before, you felt a hand grasp onto yours and slowly you turned your head to face Rafe. He nodded and tightened his grip in a comforting way, never letting go.

Send request please xx

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for being proud of my job as a regional Nightmare?

My sister told me she’s making her own post and that if I was so sure I wasn’t TA then I should make my own so here I am.

I’m a regional Nightmare. I’m very proud of how hard I worked to get here. Not many terrors in their 20s get this high up and it’s because I do the work. I get up at 8pm and I’m out in the woods grinding out those quotas until dawn. Sometimes I sleep out there in my uniform just so I can be the first on scene for the multi-part jobs. I’m efficient, I’m punctual, and I’m committed. My goal is to be a Cyptid by the time I’m 30 and, to do that, I have to stay on at all times.

As a result, I work a lot. I’m often not home for days at a time. I have a very strict training regimen and my time for friends and family is virtually nonexistent. That’s why when I do get the time to hang out, I prefer to spend my time intentionally. What I mean by that is that I don’t want to sit on a couch when I could be lifting weights. I don’t want to chill in the pool when I could be volunteering for new scares. I especially don’t want to gossip over tea when I could be getting overtime.

Last Saturday, my sister invited a bunch of family over to her house. My job in the Virginia woods fell through, so I decided to go. Silly (her childhood nickname) said she had something important to tell the family so I thought it wouldn’t be a waste of my time.

Key word: thought.

When I got to Silly’s house, I was surprised to see so many cars out front. Our parents were there and our older brother. The house was packed. There were cousins, aunts, uncles and a ton of people I didn’t know.

At first the event was fine. Silly’s always been a good cook (see, I know you’re reading this, Silly, and see? I do compliment you when do something actually good) and everyone was really enjoying the flank steak (though I did have to save it before she cooked it medium well). But as the day wore on, I could tell people were getting bored. Silly and Mom were focused on cleaning up and said that dessert would have to wait until her fiance got home. Which was kind of rude to be late and I felt really bad for Silly. It seems like my soon to be brother-in-law (BIL for short) is never around when she needs him.

In an effort to help, I engaged some of the people I didn’t know in conversation because the party was getting a little dead and I didn’t want one of my sister’s parties to fail. I was trying hard not to think about the time I was wasting waiting for my future BIL so it also served as a distraction.

It turns out one of the guys was a fellow terror. He worked a corporate job and we talked for a while about the pros of being freelance like me. He asked me a lot of questions and I was happy to mentor another terror.  Corporate can suck the art out of what we do. My clients only care if the quota for their mission is met and don’t enforce such strict timelines. They come to me for quality. Poor guy barely had time to mend his uniform between scares (his cloak was tattered and his hook hand was rusty) so I recommended my tailor and blacksmith.

The guy and I exchanged information. I gave him my business card and he looked for one of his. While he looked, I felt nature calling so I headed upstairs to use my sister’s bathroom (like hell I was going to use the same one as my Uncle Joe). From up there, I saw my future BIL pull into the driveway.

 Being a regional Nightmare is a tough job. Like I said, I have to train a lot to keep my certification. So I thought it’d be a good idea to get a scare on my BIL both to punish him for being late and to make up for all the time I’d already wasted at the party.

So I waited for him to come upstairs to change and, when he did, I pulled out the works. I darkened the room and fell back into the shadows. Then, while he groped for the light switch, I stretched out my leg (I have an extra joint in them) and tried to nudge him. I honestly didn’t expect for him to trip and I DEFINITELY didn’t expect for him to fall backwards. I’ve been practicing this skill on my family since I was sixteen and got the leg extension mod and none of them ever fell like that.

My future BIL fell down the stairs. I panicked and raced over to look over the banister. He was fine! He wasn’t bleeding or anything and, when I saw that, I started to laugh.

Everyone freaked out though. They all said I was being immature and bullying my BIL. I told them it wasn’t bullying, it was my actual job. I said that I was just joking and didn’t know my BIL, a former “Cryptid”, would take it so hard.

My mom jumped in and backed me up, but my sister has always been the Queen of the castle. Silly and Dad kicked me out ( I mean, I let them, I’ve got enhanced strength and I didn’t want to hurt them). Dad called me a disgrace and to not come back home.

I asked him if he was really kicking me out just because I wanted to show off my skills a little? And he said yes. And Silly said I had it coming to me for a long time.

I don’t even know what went wrong.

 So AITA for taking pride in my work?

---.

SillyCreeper says: Oh my god, you actually made this post? You’re an actual idiot. For anyone who believes this story, read mine before you vote. My brother left out a few details like how the party was my GENDER REVEAL PARTY and that he’s not a regional Nightmare, he’s a  Slasher for hire.

OP replies: I am TRAINED to operate as a regional Nightmare. That makes me an independent regional Nightmare.

SillyCreeper replies: Regional Nightmares don’t steal failed missions from corporate Slashers

OP replies: Get your own post, Silly

SillyCreeper: Oh, I already did. Have fun being torn apart on yours, dumbass.

-----

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to read Silly's AITA post a week early, please consider becoming a patron (X)!

Aita for going no contact with my brother after he pulled a Scare on my husband?

I'm working on this anthology during November and I'm having a blast with this story in particular! The family drama keeps going on and on

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[ladysharmaa]

Swim

bridgerton family x sis!reader

summary: when the youngest Bridgerton is playing in the garden with her siblings, she falls into the lake, not knowing how to swim. Realizing the accident, her older brother runs to save her

requested: yes

warnings: drowning

It was a hot day in the countryside, the heat almost unbearable and most of the animals seeking shelter in the shadows. The Bridgerton family was at Aubrey Hall, however the younger ones were dissatisfied with how the day was going. Daphne was away with her husband, Benedict had locked himself in the art room, consumed by a burst of inspiration, and Colin was still traveling through Europe. Eloise was visiting Penelope, and Lady Bridgerton was engaged in a lively chat with the other ladies of the parish.

"Anthony!" Y/n called out for the only brother left. However, she was also unlucky when she saw him hunched over paperwork in his study, his brow furrowed in frustration.

The youngest Bridgerton sighed in annoyence, everyone was busy except her three older siblings. However, their mother had forbidden them to go out and play in the garden without the surveillance of any family member, keeping them dry all day reading until they got tired of lying on the sofa, vanning themselves.

"Y/n! How many times do I have to say that you can't walk into my office like that?! It’s not proper." Anthony scolded her, he was also frustrated with the work that was piling up, the heat and his youngest siblings who couldn't seem to stop bothering him.

“The door was open…” Y/n muttered, only to earn a sharp glare. “I’m sorry, brother. But Hyacinth, Gregory, Francesca, and I are so bored. It’s unbearable indoors, and we want to play outside.”

The older man ran his hand over his forehead, taking a deep breath to control his impatience and not take it out on his little sister. The truth was that the heat wasn't helping for his patience.

“You know what?” he said, exhaling sharply, “Go. Go play outside. Just don’t disturb me again.”

"But mother said—”

"You'll be fine." Anthony waved a hand in the air, dismissing what the girl was going to say, his attention already focused on the documents. "Just don't get too close to the lake and if you need anything, fetch for a maid."

"Are you sure?" Y/n questioned hesitantly, knowing these weren't the rules Violet imposed.

"Off you go." the Viscount muttered, motioning for her to leave and close the door.

“Of course, brother.” she left in silence, closing the door.

She returned to her younger siblings with a bright smile, though a flicker of uncertainty lingered. "We can go!" she announced, and their faces lit up. The four of them dashed to the garden, their laughter ringing out as they burst into the open air.

The garden was Y/n’s favorite place, a haven of color and life. The vibrant flowers—roses, tulips, and daisies—lined the pathways, their sweet fragrance mingling with the warm summer breeze. A fountain bubbled gently at the center, its soothing trickle blending with the cheerful quacks of ducks paddling in the nearby lake. Towering trees offered patches of welcome shade, their leaves rustling softly as if whispering secrets to the wind.

Gregory raced to the fountain and splashed water at his sisters, eliciting squeals of surprise. The girls retaliated, sparking a playful water fight. The cool droplets against their skin brought much-needed relief from the sweltering heat, and their laughter echoed across the garden.

Hyacinth soon grabbed a small ball, and the group shifted to a lively game of catch. When Gregory threw the ball to Y/n, she was momentarily distracted by a pair of butterflies flitting gracefully nearby. The ball slipped through her fingers and rolled into the lake.

“Oh, no!” Y/n exclaimed, spinning around to face her siblings. “Anthony said the lake was off limits!”

“That was your fault, Y/n!” Gregory shot back, folding his arms. “You were distracted! Just go get the ball. Nothing will happen, and we can keep playing.”

Hyacinth frowned, tugging at Y/n’s arm nervously. “Be careful,” she whispered, glancing anxiously at the shimmering water. Francesca stood silently, her face a mix of worry and curiosity.

Y/n hesitated, looking between her siblings and the ball floating just a little too far from the edge of the lake. “Alright,” she finally said, though her voice trembled slightly. “I’ll get it, but don’t tell Anthony or Mama.”

She carefully made her way to the edge of the lake, the grass beneath her feet slippery and damp. The ball bobbed lazily on the water’s surface, taunting her. Stretching out her arm, she leaned forward as much as she could without stepping into the water.

“Just a little more…” Y/n muttered to herself, her fingertips brushing the edge of the ball. But the ground beneath her shifted suddenly, and with a startled yelp, she lost her balance. Her arms flailed as she tumbled forward, plunging into the cold water with a loud splash.

“Y/n!” Hyacinth screamed, her hands flying to her mouth as she watched her sister vanish beneath the surface.

“Y/n! Get up! Stop playing around!” Gregory shouted, his voice wavering as panic set in.

But Y/n wasn’t playing. The moment she hit the water, she remembered she didn’t know how to swim. Her brothers were always making the promise they would teach her how to swim, but they were always busy.

The weight of her wet dress dragged her down, and she struggled desperately to keep her head above the surface. Her hair was in front of her eyes, which was only adding to her panic. Her siblings were screaming behind her, but she couldn't do anything. She gasped, swallowing water instead of air, her arms thrashing uselessly.

“I-I can’t—help!” Y/n choked, her voice barely audible over the splashing.

Francesca started crying, while Hyacinth grabbed Gregory’s arm. “Do something, Gregory!” she pleaded, her voice high-pitched and trembling. "Help her!"

“I—I don’t know what to do!” Gregory stammered, his face pale as he watched his sister struggle. “We need Anthony!”

The three of them began screaming at the top of their lungs. “Anthony! Anthony! Help!”

Inside the house, Anthony sat at his desk, brow furrowed as he tried to focus on his work. But the distant sound of frantic shouting made him freeze. His siblings’ voices pierced through the thick walls of Aubrey Hall, each cry laced with panic.

“Anthony! Help! Y/n, swim, please!”

He was on his feet in an instant, the paperwork long forgotten. His hands were trembling and he was having trouble taking a breath in. Memories of his father dying were playing in his brain. He couldn't lose his younger sister, he wouldn't survive. He believed no one in the family would. Y/n was a ray of sunshine, she had the power of making him smile even in his darkest days.

Racing out of his study, he bolted through the house and into the garden. The sight that met him stopped his heart for a moment—Y/n floundering in the lake, her siblings screaming helplessly at the edge.

“Y/n!” Anthony roared, sprinting toward the water.

Without hesitation, he dove in, the cool shock of the water biting against his skin. His powerful strokes cut through the lake as he reached her, wrapping one arm securely around her chest to keep her head above water. “I’ve got you, Y/n! You’re safe!” he gasped, pulling her toward the shore.

Y/n coughed and sputtered, clinging tightly to Anthony’s arm as he hauled her out of the water and onto the grass. She collapsed onto her side, shivering and coughing up all the water trapped in her lungs.

“Y/n!” Hyacinth sobbed, rushing forward to kneel beside her. Gregory and Francesca hovered close, their faces streaked with tears.

Anthony knelt next to his youngest sister, his hands gently brushing the wet hair from her face. “What were you thinking?” he demanded, though his voice cracked with a mix of anger and fear. “I told you to stay away from the lake!”

“I-I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I was just trying to get the ball…”

“Forget the ball!” Anthony snapped, though the harshness of his words softened as he saw the guilt in her eyes. He sighed heavily, pulling her into a protective embrace despite her soaked clothes. “You scared me half to death, Y/n. Don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t,” she murmured, burying her face in his shoulder. “I promise.”

Anthony held her tightly for a moment longer before pulling back and looking at the other three. “And you lot,” he said, fixing them with a stern glare, “should have come to me the second something went wrong. You don’t handle things like this on your own, understood?”

“Yes, Anthony,” Gregory muttered, his head bowed.

“I’m sorry, Anthony,” Hyacinth sniffled.

“Let’s get you all inside,” Anthony said, scooping Y/n into his arms. “Y/n needs to change out of these wet clothes, and all of you need to stay out of trouble. And don’t think this means I’m letting any of you off the hook when I tell Mother about this.”

The siblings exchanged nervous glances but said nothing. For now, they were just relieved Y/n was safe.

"And go get Benedict for me, please," Anthony sighed, tightening his protective hold on Y/n, who rested her head against his chest. Just like she used to when she was a baby, seeking comfort and safety in her older brother’s arms.

The Bridgerton siblings immediately sprang into action, not wanting to further anger their eldest brother. Gregory and Hyacinth bolted toward Benedict’s art room, their small footsteps echoing through the halls. Meanwhile, Anthony called for the maids, handing Y/n over gently and instructing them to draw her a warm bath and help her change into fresh clothes. Once she was seen to, he retreated to his room to rid himself of his soaked garments.

Later, Y/n was tucked into her bed, warm and safe, her cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the bath. She had drifted off to sleep, her breathing soft and steady. Anthony sat in a chair beside her bed, his elbow resting on his knee as he leaned forward, his eyes locked on her small, peaceful frame. Every slight rise and fall of her chest reassured him she was still there, still breathing.

Beside him, Benedict sat in quiet solidarity, his hand supporting his chin as he watched his older brother wrestle with his thoughts.

“I thought we were going to lose her,” Anthony whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “She was screaming, Benedict. She was drowning, and I didn’t know if I’d reach her in time.” His jaw tightened, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “All because none of us had the bloody sense to teach her how to swim.”

“It’s not your fault, Anthony,” Benedict said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “She’s okay now. You saved her.”

Anthony shook his head, his eyes never leaving Y/n. “She asked me to let them go outside. I said yes because I was frustrated she was interrupting me. I didn’t think, Benedict. I didn’t think about the lake or the rules or how dangerous it was. I let her go because it was easier for me, and I put her in danger. That’s on me. I was irresponsible.”

Benedict’s hand squeezed his shoulder, grounding him. “You made a mistake, Anthony. But don’t forget, when it mattered most, you were there. You pulled her out of the water and you’re here now, making sure she’s safe. That’s what being the eldest means. You can’t be perfect all the time.”

Anthony let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in the chair. “I don’t have the luxury of mistakes. Not when it comes to them. Not when it comes to Y/n. I should’ve been better.”

Benedict paused for a moment before leaning forward, his tone shifting to something lighter, more familiar. “You know, Anthony, this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you admit to not being perfect. I’m almost proud of you.”

Despite himself, Anthony let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Not the time for jokes, Benedict.”

“Come on,” Benedict smirked, “you’ve been brooding for hours. She’s going to wake up and see that same grumpy expression, and then we’ll have a whole new mess to deal with.”

Anthony gave him a sidelong glance, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Benedict leaned back, feigning a look of triumph. “I’ve been told.”

A small, sleepy voice interrupted their exchange. “Anthony? Benedict?”

Both men snapped their attention to Y/n, who was stirring in her bed. Anthony leaned forward immediately, brushing a hand over her forehead. “I’m here, Y/n. How are you feeling?”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him with a mix of guilt and relief. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Anthony’s heart clenched. “You don’t need to apologize, sweetheart. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

“You saved me,” she said softly, her small hand reaching out to grab his. “Thank you.”

Anthony squeezed her hand gently, his voice thick with emotion. “Always, Y/n. Always.”

Benedict leaned in, his tone playful. “And just so you know, next time you want to cause this much chaos, at least let me finish my painting first.”

Y/n let out a small, tired giggle, and Anthony finally allowed himself to relax. His little sister was safe, and he would make sure it always stayed that way.

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 12 - The End

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 12 of 12!

They were alone. Just the three of them.

Colette had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. But she had also never been so happy. Charlie had been fed once more and had then fallen back asleep, curled up on her father’s chest. Colette herself could barely keep her eyes open.

And she should be sleeping, but she could only watch her daughter curled up against Max's chest.

"How did we manage to create something so perfect?" She asked him softly.

Max let out a tired little huff of laughter, not bothering to open his eyes. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” he murmured quietly.

Colette felt a smile tugging at her face. “Perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she agreed quietly, shifting a little to get a better look at the two of them. "So perfect it almost hurts to look at her."

Max smiled at her. "I...There is this thing you should know," he said hesitantly.

Something about his tone, the hesitance in his voice, made Colette pause. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

"I may have told the whole world about us? On Instagram?" he admitted with a grimace.

She could only snort at that. "I think your father made sure that that cat was out of the bag," she told him drily. "What did you say?"

"That we have been a couple for 15 years. That I couldn't be happier with you and our little family," he said simply. "I wanted everybody to hear our truth," Max said softly. "Not what other people write."

"There is a romantic inside you after all," Colette teased him softly.

"You aren't angry?" Max checked.

Colette sighed. "Not at you," she said simply. "I can't be angry at you. You just want people to know how happy we are together. We kept it quiet for years for me," Colette said, staring at her daughter. "Is it weird that it feels like she put everything into perspective?" she asked him, nodding towards Charlie. "I just...I don't care anymore,” she admitted.

Max stared at her, blue eyes wide, but Colette just shrugged. “I was terrified for so long what people were going to think about me once they knew about us...but now...I don't care. What does it matter?"

Max reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "It doesn't," he promised her. "I'll start screaming it from the rooftops tomorrow, if you'll let me."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "I think the media already knows," she teased, squeezing his hand. "We can just put my Instagram on public and let them eat their heart out," she suggested. It wasn’t meant seriously. Not really. 

But the more she thought about it, she wondered if that was what it was going to take. Opening up the digital scrapbook of her life. Letting anybody have a peek at their relationship. Hoping that finally they would understand.

"We'd break the internet," Max retorted, grinning at her.

Colette laughed. "We really, really would. Reason enough  to do it?" she teased him.

"And give my PR team a heart attack? Absolutely,” Max returned immediately. “Tell me when.” 

"I love you," she told him seriously. "And I am ready to love you in public too."

She had done it from the shadows for 15 years after all.

He stared at her. "Are...Are you sure?"

"I am very, very sure, mon coeur," Colette told him softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The only opinion that matters to me is yours - and my family's. I don't care what anyone else thinks," she added, glancing down at Charlie again, who slept blissfully on, cuddled against Max's chest.

"If people want to call me an attention whore or a gold digger, they are welcome to it," Colette said quietly. "I don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and our baby is happy. Let them write whatever they want."

***

"Marry me," Max blurted out.

His words came out of his mouth before he had even realised what he was saying. The room suddenly became very quiet, as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of it, and Max suddenly realised that he had just blurted out the question he had been meaning to ask for months, at a time that couldn’t be further from ideal.

Colette was staring at him, her eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on her face. She seemed frozen and totally caught off guard by his question. And he didn’t blame her for that. She was exhausted, and had just given birth, and here he was, bombarding her with questions as if this was the perfect moment to do it.

But then she smiled at him. 

"Yes," Colette said simply. "Always yes. You know that.”

Relief surged through him so strongly, Max thought he might just about collapse. She had said yes.

Granted she had said yes the last time as well. 

He remembered that day like it had been yesterday…remembered coming home that May evening in 2016…Fuelled with adrenaline from his first “proper” win. Remembered the trophy that still had a place of pride in their living room…the bottle of champagne, the Pirelli cap…and the ring that he had bought after that race. The celebratory crepes for breakfast the next day where still a tradition they kept with. 

Max felt like he could have exploded there and then, just from happiness. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked her, that she had just said yes. It didn’t feel real. It felt like something out of a dream.

"Yes?" he repeated incredulously, just to make sure he hadn’t actually dreamt it. "You’ll marry me?"

"Properly this time," she teased him, with the most beautiful smile on her face, as she leane up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll marry you, Maxie.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound breathless. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made him sound like that, it was disbelief, a sort of giddy lightness.

"Properly this time," he echoed back to her, his words soft. "You’ll marry me properly."

He couldn’t actually believe she was saying yes. "I do have a ring," he assured her. "It's at home. I hid it in the trophy."

Colette laughed. "Of course, you hid it in the trophy," she repeated, her voice warm and amused."Of course you did."

Max gave her what he hoped was at least a resemblance of a sheepish look. “Where else would it be safe?” he said defensively. "And I know you wouldn't look there," he added.

"A perfect place to hide something you don't want me to find," Colette agreed.

Max grinned at her. "Exactly," he said happily, gently brushing her hair from her face.

"Which trophy?" she asked him seriously.

"Spain 2016," he answered honestly. His first one. The one. 

"You hid it in the 2016 trophy?" Colette repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "Really?"

"Just felt appropriate,” he answered honestly. He still remembered handing it to Colette for the first time, the ring that he had bought clanging around in the bottom of it. 

"It is," she agreed softly, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.

Max smiled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, pulling her a little closer. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the one question he had been wanting to ask for ages, and she had actually just said yes.

"You’re really going to marry me," he mumbled against her mouth, unable to help the words. "You’re actually going to marry me."

"I had your baby, but this is what shocks you?" Colette asked him with a laugh. 

He laughed, pulling her closer again and nuzzling his face into her shoulder, her words causing him to blush faintly. “I love you,” he mumbled against her skin quietly.

"I love you too," she echoed back quietly. "And yes, I will marry you. As many times as you’ll ask."

"I am the luckiest man in the whole world," he said softly.

"No, I’m the luckiest," she told him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. "To have you, and this, and Charlie, and all of it. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

[vantetaes]

BOOK WORM 🫧🥂

BOOK WORM! ARMIN X BLACK FEM READER

SUMMARY!! yn helps her friend relieve some stress.

WARNINGS!! 18+!! mentions of oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption, pet names, honestly just smut

the door creeps open slowly, revealing a figure illuminated by a laptop screen and a faulty led lamp. the faint clicking from the keyboard and sound of papers ruffling were the only sound that filled the room.

you peer around, the cluttered desk told you everything you needed to know: scattered papers, a coffee cup that looked like it hadn’t moved in hours, and a faint shadow under his eyes that screamed exhaustion.

“armin. what the hell?” walking over to the boy, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. the bag you came in being placed on the only clear spot of the desk. he leans into your touch a little, enjoying the warmth you never failed to bring, but snapping out of it quickly, rearing back up to continue typing.

“finals are in two weeks and if i don’t get my scores perfect i’ll have to hear about it for ages with my lawyer brother, attorney sister, my supreme court justice father, and my doctor mother.” he never once stopped typing. bending down to your knees, he gives you a small glance before reaching for a stack of crumbled pages, shuffling the sheets in confusion.

“i know it’s arou- ah! okay good.” he picks up a half ripped sheet, copying down the data from the sheet onto his laptop. lips in a tight line, you stand back up, digging through the tan tote bag. a small case of flavored beer and a couple of shooters make their way onto the desk. he looks over at the spread, immediately shaking his head.

“hell no, yn! are you crazy? i have class in the morning.” you throw you hands up in defeat.

“can we make a deal ‘minnie?” he ignores you, still typing. fed up, you finally unzip your jacket, tossing it on the extra chair. throwing one of your legs around the boy, he rears his hands up , scared to touch you. you’re straddling him, pushing the blonde locks out of his face, tucking a few of the longer pieces behind his ear. his ice blue eyes stare up at you in confusion.

“what are you doing, yn?”

“drink one beer with me. not! while doing homework. just enjoy a full beer and maybe a shooter and i’ll leave you alone afterwards! swear.” holding your pinky out to the male, he bites the insides of his cheek, thinking really hard about your opposition.

“just one?” waving your pink acrylic back and forth between your bodies, he finally latches on with his.

-

PARTYNEXTDOOR plays in the background, filling the void of quiet. the entire six pack was now just one. the one you and armin were currently sharing. he takes a swig from it, grabbing your chin with his thumb and index finger, he places the bottle to your lips. his blue eyes stare as you gulp down the last of the liquid catches you off guard, causing you to cough up a little, accidentally getting it on his white shirt.

“oh shit. im sorry.” you try to wipe it off with your sleeve. he just laughs, moving your arm a little.

“it’s okay. i’ll change.” he moves from his position on the bed, hand gripping the shirt from behind his head, pulling it over, stripping himself of the shirt. you couldn’t help but notice the way his back was sculpted.

since when does he work out? is that a tattoo?

“i didn’t know you had a tat, minnie.” slurring, he turns around to look at you sprawled out on his bed. your body waved hair sprawled out everywhere, sweater falling off your shoulders and shorts riding up your thighs.

he knows, you’re only his friend and he had no chance with you. hell, your ex is onyankopon. what could armin give up that he wasn’t? but shit, the way he thinks about you. the way his eyes can’t help but to feast on your appearance when you’re near him. he wanted to ruin you. to cherish you. to make you his.

“yeah it was an old friends idea. he passed not too long ago. still miss the kid.” he just hangs his head before going back to look for another shirt.

“come here.” you say assertively. armin turns around, the front looking just as good as his back.

he drunkenly waddles back to the bed, climbing back into his original spot. your finger traces over the abstract tattoo, inspecting it closely.

it was a sigilism tattoo that started below his ribs and extended up his left pec, to his bicep.

your other hand rested on his abdomen, laying up against the man.

“how long did it take?” you quiz.

“it was honestly two full sessions since im a pussy. so about five hours a session.” he laughs, face turning a little red.

“i think it’s so cool.” you say still studying the ink. look over at the man you see his eyes directly on you, then a quick glance down at your lips.

“i think you’re cool.” you say, feeling his body inch closer, gradually changing your position. his hands wrap around your waist, slowly shifting him under you. eyes never breaking contact.

“i think you’re-“ he leans down, eye to eye with you. his lips plant down firmly on yours. moving in sync, you could feel him relax into it, tongue occasionally swiping across your bottom lip. you’d never been this close to him. he smelled like coconut and dior cologne, hair dangling above your face.

“what about onyankopon?” pulling away from the heated kiss, he asks, worry filling his eyes.

“mm- what about him?”

“right. if you want me to stop, let me know pleas-“ throwing your arms around his neck, you pull him back down. his lips were so soft. his breath tasted like fresh peppermint, completely baffling you since you both just drank alcohol. he was intoxicating.

moving your lips in unison, there’s no rush, no urgency—just the gradual deepening of the kiss. the way his lips part slightly against yours, inviting more. his fingers slide gently along your jaw, tilting your face toward his, eager.

he forces himself to break away, whining at the loss. his lips move to your neck, hands wondering every inch of your body, trying to stimulate you every way he can. sucking and leaving marks all over your collarbone, he finds himself helping you remove your sweater. revealing a pink lace bralette.

“fuck, everything about you is so beautiful.” you whine, tugging at his sweatpants knot.

“well get there princess, lust let me make you feel good please. it’s the only thing i’ve wanted to do. let me eat you.” you could damn near see the fire that burned behind his eyes. his large hands slip under your bra, gently massaging them, using his index and thumb to roll your nipples in between. a gasp escapes your lips.

“armin- fuck.” he gets impatient, lifting your bra up to your chest, mouth immediately attaching to the swollen bud. your mouth forms a small ‘o’ shape, gripping at the man’s golden locs.

he leaves them both a few kisses before peppering your stomach with a few kisses.

staring down at the man, you see him kissing at the inside of your thighs, humming after every kiss. he finally gets impatient, gripping the shorts by the waistband, yanking them off your body. you giggle, being tugged a little.

wasting no time, he pins your legs back to the bed and starts eating you like he’s starving. his tongue dragging back and forth over your clit, saliva and spit mixing to create a glisten on the man’s face. his lips attach to your swollen clit, sucking soft while he reaches up to play with your matching swollen nipples, sliding his hands all over your exposed body.

“oh armin please!” you could feel him getting hungrier by the minute, his grip on your legs getting tighter as he rubs his tongue up and down your pussy. he stuffed two long thick fingers into your cunt scissoring them, ultimately touching your g-spot. you tried moving, your body tingling, but armin was so drunk from you, he couldn’t tell. his finger hooked into you, slowly stroking the spot, his tongue still abusing your nub. you were seeing stars at this point.

“fuck- minnie im gonna cum!” without fail, you released all over the man’s hand, fluid shooting out of your throbbing cunt, all over his face.

but he didn’t stop. his tongue continued its dance around on you.

“fuck me, i can’t take anymore, please armin.”

without saying anything, he pulls you closer by the waist. coming out of his sweatpants, his hand pumps a few times while he reaches in his side desk to grab a condom.

you also never knew how big he was. you stare at his length as he hovers over you, a little confused.

“where was that at?” you point, he laughs, pushing your legs apart again. looking down, a string of saliva falls right onto your slick, mixing in with the rest.

“was savin him for you, baby.” the tip slides in with ease, armins head throws back, already in love with the way you were sucking him in.

“give me all of it, please.” hips bucking up, trying to get the entire length into your throbbing core. his hands dig into your hips, pressing your down into the mattress, slowly sliding fully into you.

nails on his back, you let out the most nasty moan.

“shit, you feel so good squeezing around me.” pulling out, his body shakes a little, unable to control his whiny moans.

he keeps his strokes gentle and paced, still holding your body deep into the bed. hands pressed to the back of your thighs, he pushes down more, spreading yourself open to take more of him.

his throbbing cock continues slow and teasing, building a fire in the pit of your stomach. pulling your legs together, feet towards his face, his mouth kisses your pedicured toes.

the paces quickens, causing your body to forcefully move up and down. he snakes his arms around your legs, locking them in place with a bear hug, still pounding against you.

“armin! im cumming againn-” before you could catch yourself, you’re squirting all over his dick. he laughs at you, removing his arm, using one of his hands to play with your clit.

“ feel so fucking good. i don’t wanna stop fucking you. please, give me one more.”

he didn’t care that he hadn’t finished, all he wanted was you and all he could give you.

his pace slows down, the look on his face in pure bliss. your hands come up, caressing his face, tears brimming your eyes. the words wouldn’t even form.

“i want it baby, please cum with me.” your voice broken and low, his body lowers, connecting with yours and he slides his arms under your body, slowing down to a good pace. the unforgettable feeling of that tight coil in your stomach shows again as his cock digs at your spot relentlessly.

“im gonna cum, fuck-“

“me too, give it to me, ‘min!” your bodies clash against each others, sweat collecting on your chests, finally reaching the climax. his hips slow down, trying to catch his breath. pulling out, you both groan.

“i hope you know im not letting you fuck anybody else.” he saying rolling over, fixing your hair. your head falls over in direction.

“you too baby.”

with a few more laughs, he stands from the bed, trashing the condom before walking to you. his large arms scoop you up into a cradle.

“let’s get you in the shower.”

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-one —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.5k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

The last bed you laid in smelled like lemon mint detergent. It was the full bed in your sister's guest room. Everything was crisp and white. They rarely had guests besides you. Some of your clothes stayed in that closet, one of your toothbrushes stayed in the connected bathroom, waiting for your visits. You'd awaken that last morning not thinking you'd never sleep in bed for another five years. You left it unmade.

This bed smells like pine and warmth.

Ghost's room is small and dimly lit. The ceiling slants so that one end is not tall enough for him to fully stand. There's a dresser and a nightstand, leaving only a sliver of floorspace.

After the metal latch on the door clicks shut, Ghost lays the blanket down and grabs a pillow for himself. That leaves the bed to you. Springs creak beneath your weight as you silently slip under a heavy, rustic quilt. The years-embedded scent of him wraps around you like a drug-induced fog. You hesitate to move, frozen as he flicks off the light. You wonder if he always locks the door or did it for you, to make you feel safer.

Only when his moving about ceases do you allow yourself to get comfortable. You cocoon your body under the quilt and turn to your side, closing your eyes.

A thought reopens them minutes later. You roll onto your back and speak into the darkness. "Have you known about this Switzerland place?"

For a moment, you think he's already asleep. Then, from below the bed by your feet, he says, "Heard of it."

"That is what you guys talked about, isn't it?" you ask absentmindedly.

"Among other things."

You sit up so you can see him, but all that you can make out is a dark shadow. "Care to share?"

"Some things are on a need-to-know basis," is all he gives.

"And I don't need to know?"

"Precisely."

It stings; you don't know why. "Some team we make, huh? Or I guess we're only a team when you need me to do something for you."

You quickly realize how petulant you must sound. The shadow sits upright. "They asked me to go with them. I said no. Too far. Too many variables that are hard to predict, and she's not ready for them. Happy?"

Happy—no, but relief replaces the slight uncertainty in your gut since your conversation with Nereida. Joining them was shut down. You wouldn't tell her, but their idea sounds asinine, whether or not that commune exists. The trip will be risky at best, fatal at worst. You're tempted to ask him how many days he thinks they'll recoup here before continuing their journey, but opt for sleep instead. He seems done with the conversation, too, lying back down. Then, you have the best sleep you've had in years in his bed.

When the sun turns pink, you awaken to a room void of Ghost. He's gone. It should be expected, but you'd thought he might wake you up to train like normal. Though, the past twenty-four hours haven't been normal. You look around, the details of his room more visible now. On the nightstand, there is a stack of books and you scan the titled spines. Mostly classics. One Hemingway. All tattered and read frequently. Beside them lays a silver chain attached to a dog tag. You gently finger the engraved metal so as not to move it out of place: Simon Riley. 

Snooping through his things is more tempting than you're willing to admit. You slip out of bed, socked feet padding over to the dresser. There are mostly papers. His map with the marked circle around what you now realize is Switzerland, a notepad with scribbled half-cursive on it, and then a faded photo beneath it. You freeze, breath hitching, as if you've done something dangerous just by stumbling upon it. Curiosity is thick in your chest, difficult to ignore. Gentle fingers reach to shift it out, revealing a picture that you know right away is of Blue and her mom. Blue is a baby. Maybe one year old. A woman with light brown hair holds her up, sitting on a bench in front of a playground. She's pretty and young. There is a sadness when you wonder if this is the only picture he has of them—before her death. Then, there is another feeling. You swallow it. 

You quickly slip the photo back just the way you found it and leave the room. The living room is quiet, people still sleeping. Price and Kyle's blankets are empty, but Kyle is the only one you spot outside. He sits on a tree stump, using a knife and some soap to shave his beard. He looks at you the moment you step outside.

"Good morning." He splashes a scoop of water on his smoothed jaw. 

You tuck your hands in your pockets. "Morning."

Without the facial hair, he looks even younger. Maybe in his early thirties. He pushes to his feet and you are reminded of his above-average height, though he is not as monstrous as Ghost. His form is lean, all muscle, with much less ink on his exposed skin. It is now you notice a scar across his jaw. Thick but faded. It trails halfway down his neck.

"Do you know where Ghost went?" you ask.

"Working on that truck of his. With Price."

A glance over your shoulder confirms it; you spot some movement behind the cabin where you know his truck sits. Guess that means no training. You nod. "So, um, you were in the military together, right?"

He takes a moment to look at you before answering. "Yeah. Same unit. Price was our captain."

"I kind of figured. He is... captain-y."

"'Captain-y.' Good way of putting it."

You're ready to turn away when he asks, "I hate to pry, but I admit I'm curious how you ended up here with him."

You force a smile. "It's not a very interesting story, sorry."

"I'm not looking for entertainment."

"What are you looking for, then?" You sound more defensive than you mean to. 

He shrugs. "Just curious, is all. You're a bit young."

"I'm not fucking him if that's what you're getting at." His brows lift to his hairline, and you're almost embarrassed for assuming that is what he was thinking, but before he can speak you add, "And you're young, too. I can handle myself just as you can."

"Of course." He shakes his head, moving his hand over his chest in earnest. "I apologize if I insinuated otherwise. Though, I am older than you."

"How old?"

"Let's see. Thirty-one last November. Or maybe it's just thirty. Hard to keep track, innit?" His smile is more genuine than yours, flashing white teeth. Then, his face turns more serious and he sighs through his nose, head tilting. "Look, I understand."

"Understand what?"

"I don't know your story, but I'm sure it is a gruesome one, and you have every right to feel uncomfortable. We'll be out of your hair soon enough. I appreciate you having us, though."

You want to tell him it's not like you have a choice; you're not the host here. But he already knows that. He's trying to be nice. "Thank you," you tell him honestly. 

Kyle bends to pick up his knife, wiping it off on his shirt. "So what did you need Ghost for?"

"Oh, nothing really."

"Care to accompany me for some breakfast, then?"

You consider saying no, but you need to hunt, anyway. Besides, you don't think he'd try anything in broad daylight. In another life, you may have looked at him with a more appreciative eye. But as you wade in silence through the woods, bow cinched to your back, you study him like an opponent. He's more agile than Ghost, likely quicker. When he crests the hill, it's hard to match his strides. 

Small conversation picks up by the pond and you find yourself easing up. You learn he's from London, too.

"What part?"

"Islington. I shared an apartment with my girlfriend. The rent was shit but it was worth it. Top floor loft with a good view and this insane Turkish bakery just below us." His tone is so casual you forget where you are for a second, until he suddenly throws his knife. It pins a squirrel to one of the trees. He bends to dislodge it and carries the dead animal, blood on his fingers. 

You keep walking. "What happened to her?"

"I had to make a choice. Go to London and find her, or go with Price and get my nephew, niece, and sister-in-law."

The understanding hits with the force of a fallen tree, and you pale. 

He notices your expression and continues. "I don't regret my decision. I've come to terms with it. There was no chance of me finding her in London, not with how quickly the infection spread there and the phone lines went out. I didn't even know where to look for her. At work? Home? Up north, things weren't as bad yet. I got in contact with my sister-in-law, Ameena, and told her to meet us at the small college up there where Nereida worked."

You recall what Nereida said, about Ari's mom and sister dying, so you don't pry about them. "What about your brother? Ari's dad?"

"He died before shit happened. He was in the military, too. Different unit. Multiple gun wounds while in Afghanistan a few years back."

"I think your story is more gruesome than mine," you admit.

His lips twitch ruefully. "Not a competition. Gruesome world, gruesome stories."

A more comfortable quiet settles. He is not so different than you, you realize. Only difference is he still has his nephew to look after.

The sun is already high, enough to make a collar of sweat appear on your shirt. There is a small dirt ridge you have to climb and the effort reminds you of the still-healing bruises on your body. A skirt of movement catches your eye and this time, you act quick. You use your bow to kill a squirrel up on a branch. It falls to the ground.

"Damn." Kyle whistles, low and long, as you wriggle the arrow free. "Hell of an aim you got."

"I'm... alright."

"No need to be modest."

You straighten and wipe your bloodied hand on your shirt. The movement lifts it, and you hear him suck in a breath behind you. A hand touches your shoulder, gentle than firm, as he spins you around. You're confused, then follow his gaze to the sliver of exposed skin on your hip. It's a gross yellow. 

"Twix." His voice lowers, and his friendly eyes are confused. 

Shit. "It's not whatever you're thinking."

"I'm thinking someone has put their hands on you." He frowns and shifts closer. "I know you have no reason to tell me things, but I can tell you I am not okay with that shit, no matter who it is."

You inwardly cringe. "Ghost is not... hitting me. Well, he is—"

"Fucking hell—"

"No, no. I asked him to." The bewildered look on his face makes you palm your forehead. "Not like that. Jesus. We train together, okay?"

"Train together," he repeats, shoulders loosening. 

"Yeah, like to help me get stronger." The embarrassment remains on your cheeks. "It's silly, really."

Kyle shakes his head and grins, clearly amused now that he knows you're not being abused against your will. "Not silly. Thought you two were into some kinky shit for a second there." He continues walking over a patch of dryer land, stepping onto a small rock and chuffing a breath under his nose. "Wouldn't have been surprised."

Your fingers absentmindedly tighten around the squirrel's limp neck. Your feet are frozen for a moment as you shake off a deep blush, then call out behind him. "Did you miss the part where I said I'm not fucking him!"

He simply laughs. 

The rest of the day passes in languid warmth. 

It's weird having so many people here, but you try to continue your day like usual, skinning the kill and washing your clothes. You learn more about Nereida as you eat together. You haven't had a female friend in... a long time. Save Blue. She used to be an arts professor at a private school. Sculpting, mainly. That is how she came to meet John Price, when he attended one of her galleries, buying a piece from her for far more than the listing price. He was just looking for a way to take me out to dinner. The way she speaks of him is that of a doting wife, despite everything they've been through. She tells you they were engaged before the infection. A makeshift ceremony at their old camp was the best they could do. 

"No wedding ring, but we do both have this." She pulls up her sleeve to show you a small scar carved on her shoulder—a faint letter 'J'. Price has the 'N'.

You're not sure what Ghost needed to fix on his truck that morning, or why it was important to do it with Price, but when you returned with Kyle, something felt off. Ghost's tension was palpable. He usually seems in thought, but even more-so. When Ari takes Blue for a quick ride on the horse—apparently Cherry used to be owned by his parents on their family ranch in Newcastle—he watches for only a minute before disappearing somewhere with Price. You pretend to need something from the cabin. You sneak around the back way, finding them again by his truck, muttering in low voices. Only pieces reach your ears.

"...through the rural parts. Not a straight path..."

"...could take months..."

"Got quite a bit of those."

Then, he's showing Price something under the tuck bed's tarp where you catch sight of that kayak once again. 

"Find it?"

A low voice in your ear. You startle and turn around.

"Huh?"

Kyle raises a brow. "You said you needed something."

Your hand flattens against the side of the cabin. "Right. Um, I just—"

Boots scuffle behind you. You don't need to turn to know Ghost and Price have detected your presence, making their way over. Kyle's gaze flicks to them and you feel like a child who's been caught by her parents—embarrassment laced over your irritation. You wouldn't have been eavesdropping if they weren't so secretive.

"Everything alright?" Price's timbre is calm. Your neck prickles where you feel Ghost's stare.

You find yourself nodding. "Yes. Just fine. Sorry."

It gets cooler by nightfall. Your knee bounces slightly under the table during dinner. You listen to Blue explain the rules of battleship to Ari. You don't eat much more of the meat you caught with Kyle. With a mostly empty stomach, you enter Ghost's room after everyone else has gone to bed. His broad form hovers over his dresser. For a moment, you fear he's somehow noticed that you looked at his things earlier. But then you realize his eyes are glued to the map, and he's penciling some things on the margins.

He looks up when you close the door behind you. His brows are deeply knotted. 

"Figured you would be sleeping out there for tonight."

"What?"

"Seems like you feel just fine around them now." 

He looks away from you as if you're not even there. He places the map down and opens the top drawer. Without warning, he pulls out a clean shirt and changes, revealing his bare chest. His shoulders flex as he slips it over his head by the collar. Then, he moves toward you, eyes dully expectant.

"Being asleep near them is different than hanging out during the day," you finally respond. Mouth feeling dry, you swallow. "What's going on? I can tell that you... you've been thinking about something."

"You mean you've been listening." His brow lifts. He shakes his head before you can defend yourself. "I am always thinking about something."

"Would it kill you to not be cryptic for once? I thought that we were..."

"That we were what?"

"Being honest with each other now."

A dark, slightly amused breath leaves his nose. He contemplates your words for a moment. "It is my plan to go there," he then says. "I'm not stupid. I know she needs more than what I can offer her here. It has always been my plan. Just not now."

"Because she's not ready," you breathe.

"Because she's not ready," he repeats, chin tilting. His eyes darken, veering to the left. "Price seems to disagree."

Your nails curl in your palms. "And?"

He looks back at you. "And I am thinking of your camp. What happened to you. I can't grow complacent."

The mention unsettles your stomach. Of course, he needn't elaborate, not when the memory is more fresh than you'd like. "But going to Switzerland would take days, weeks. And they have no idea what they might run into out there. It's not like we have inside info on the state of France and—and wherever the hell else we'd have to cross through to get there. They could be worse than London."

"I'm aware."

"So what, then? You're considering it now? I thought you told them no," your hushed voice edges a bit harsher, and the pulse in your neck quickens.

You hate what you think he's saying, even if you understand it. He has his daughter's future to think of. Even if he were to try finding some safe community when she's older, the opportunity of traveling with two other military-experienced men would be gone, along with whatever weapons and supplies they bring to the table.

The contemplation is vivid in his eyes as you study them. Ghost's head lowers, dipping down at the same time that he emits a harsh breath, and you realize how close the two of you have become in this quiet exchange, keeping your voices safe from any awakened ears. So close, in fact, that his exhalation hits the space between your neck and collarbones, where a small patch of skin tingles with alertness. 

His voice emerges low and thoughtful after a drawn moment. "I haven't fully decided."

You nod with deep breath to steady yourself, taking in his answer. "Will you tell me when you do?" 

"I can do that."

And that's all he offers—four words that give a minuscule amount of comfort, because now bitter uncertainty has snuck upon you once again. Your fate lays in his decision. You can't survive on your own, not even here, so if he leaves you have to go with him. The impending doom fogs your brain. You fail to notice his hand has moved, pinching the hem of your shirt between thumb and forefinger, and beginning to carefully lift it up. A breath hitches at the top of your throat and your eyes unfurl, only to find that he is pensively looking down at your exposed stomach.

"What the fuck are you—"

You're cut off when his bent knuckles gently brush over your mottled abdomen, sweeping down the sore midline, leaving you frozen. It's a thoughtful, slow touch—calloused skin against smooth softness. His thumb traces a particularly bad one by your hip, causing your muscles to flutter as a pleasant heat blossoms. For the second time today, your bruises are under scrutiny, and you curse yourself for not applying more of that paste on them.

"They're healing well," he murmurs, more to himself than to you, and lowers the shirt back down. He steps back. Eyes find yours. "Don't get too comfortable."

You blink dazedly, then stiffen. "Um, what?"

"Sleeping in my bed. My room isn't a hotel."

The change of topic gives you whiplash. "You're the one who made me sleep here," you remind him pointedly. "I'll just take the floor tonight, and you have the bed."

"You're a woman. Take it."

"As if you give a fuck about being a gentleman."

"You're right, I don't." A dismissive shoulder shrugs, then his back turns to you. He lays in the bed before you have the chance to even move, which leaves the blanket on the floor for you.

You should've just accepted the bed.

Once the room is shrouded in darkness, you bury your head in the pillow. 

"Comfortable?" he says sarcastically above you.

"Fuck off."

Then it's silent. You don't sleep nearly as well.

[pinspec]

i’ve absolutely loved the way vi’s appearance has been modified throughout this season.

in act 1, she retains her season 1 look, which could be seen as symbolic of an enduring self image of someone who must be unyielding and unchanging, i.e. someone who can protect zaun. this strength was borne of anger and grief surrounding the loss of her family, and her unchanged appearance makes clear that this vision of who vi believes herself to be still prevails. she becomes an enforcer after the attack on the memorial—not because she forsakes zaun, but because she believes she can’t protect anyone from jinx without the badge.

this is also the same hair she had when she first met and worked with caitlyn. we get the impression that she wants to be the same tough fighter who can keep them both afloat, but considering that vi seems most vulnerable in the presence of caitlyn—who causes her to suffer by persuading her to become an enforcer—we know this is futile. this theme is present during their first kiss, where vi almost buckles while caitlyn stands up straight.

then after caitlyn’s betrayal, a drastic change to her appearance occurs. she dyes her hair black and applies black eyeshadow, even black paint, to her face. she paints on a defensive facade to hide how vulnerable she is and her misery over making the wrong choice again and again and again. she tries to seem dangerous by making her rage visible but only ends up making her pain visible. hints of pink show through at the ends of her hair.

then jinx asks her to help her save vander, to overcome her lasting hatred for the hope of reuniting their family, and she actually does. she makes herself vulnerable again, and is rewarded by an unreal reconnection with jinx in the serene surroundings of viktor’s commune. she feels a flicker of hope that they might save their father. vi has the chance to forge a self-image that is not related to loss, and she seeks her younger self: the person who would put herself in harm’s way for her sister without a second thought.

then she bumps into caitlyn, who describes her as “an angry oil slick”. vi doesn’t respond with anger as she usually would—she just lets caitlyn see her. “don’t sugarcoat it, cupcake.” her dyed hair and shadowed eyes become a metamorphic signal. i believe caitlyn senses vi’s changing relationship with anger and is pushed to confront her own. she leaves her vendetta behind and defects.

in episode 8, vi’s hair is reverting back to pink and growing longer.

she goes to a locked up, grieving jinx and immediately opens her cage. vi’s transformation is almost complete; she has overcome the rage that made her reject powder all those years ago and replaced it with the desire to hold her sister even if her sister won’t hold her back.

succumbing to the loss of isha and vander, jinx traps vi in the cell and leaves, but it doesn’t matter. vi has become a force of love, not rage. caitlyn finds her, and reveals that she met vi halfway and allowed her to free jinx. caitlyn, too, has let go of her revenge motive. unlike vi, caitlyn’s appearance hasn’t changed, but she still expresses—through actions, not words—that she won’t let her anger control her any longer. she finally affirms her loyalty to vi. now on the same page, they kiss for a second time.

by the end of the finale, some remnants of vi’s transformation remain: her dark eyeshadow, her longer hair. she has come to terms with the things which she allowed to haunt her for a long time, but she must still learn what to do with her grief. she leans on caitlyn’s shoulder and accepts her support. interestingly, a physical change has at last found caitlyn, who wears an eye patch. after losing her mother at the start of the season she tried to remain unchanged and unwavering, but came to the realisation that her obsessive, grief-fuelled anger was obscuring her vision. her eye patch represents both an altered worldview and a newfound vulnerability; her skilled sharpshooting will definitely be impeded.

arcane teaches its characters that sometimes being vulnerable is not the same as being weak, and that attaining emotional clear-sightedness is a turning point on the path to self actualisation.

[siriuslystyle1989]

Im yours, but you're not mine

Azriel x Archeron!reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff

masterlist

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

Sitting down at the table, Y/n watched all the happy couples in her family partner off.

Rhysand was running his fingers through Feyre's hair while little Nyx babbled happily in her lap, Nesta and Cassian held each others hands under the table, Amren was quite literally on top of Varian and Mor and Emerie were sat gossiping and drinking wine.

Y/n turned her gaze to her twin sister, Elain. Who had, not only one, but two males trying to get her attention. Her mate, Lucien whom she had recently been trying to get along with more was sat to her left smiling as she spoke.

On her right however, sat the shadow singer, Azriel. Someone Y/n had been practically infatuated with since she arrived in Velaris, yet, he payed her little mind, opting to speak to her sister instead.

Azriel sat listening intently to Elain, adding little comments here and there and paying no mind to anyone else whatsoever.

It struck Y/n suddenly, like a stab to her heart, she was alone.

The only one out of her sisters to not have a mate.

Alone.

The word hung in her mind like itch she couldn't reach, and she felt tears well up in her eyes.

Attempting to push them back down Y/n sucked in a breath and Nesta turned to her looking concerned. She raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow as if to say 'are you alright?'

Y/n meekly swallowed and stood up "I- I'm just going- i'm just going to go to the bathroom"

she quickly walked into the bathroom where she began to sob.

"Y/n? Y/n are you alright?" Elain's voice traveled past the door.

"Yes Elain im okay-"

"Please let me in, I know you aren't"

Y/n reluctantly opened the door revealing her sobbing form.

"Oh Y/n... what happened!" Elain cooed pulling her twin into a hug

"N-nothing I just- I- I was looking at all of you, happily coupled and- I just- I started to feel lonely..."

Elain's face morphs into an empathetic frown as she strokes my hair.

"it's so silly- but- I cant help being jealous of you. W-why d-does nobody want me?" Y/n said quietly, her voice cracking.

Elain abruptly groaned loudly "Honestly why is it always me sorting out relationship issues!"

Y/n's brows furrow, hurt by her sudden discontentment "w-what"

"no! no I didn't mean it like that I meant- wait here"

Elain gets up quickly and leaves.

Y/n sits on the floor of the bathroom wiping her eyes as Elain comes back.

"Here." Elain then shoved Azriel in front of Y/n

"Im so done with your guys' bullshit please just speak and leave me alone." she walked away muttering to herself.

"Azriel?" Y/n questions, confused.

He shuffled from side to side, nervous and completely out of character.

"Y/n... I need to tell you something, can we go- outside?"

Y/n nodded getting up off the floor and following him outside.

"Azriel... what's happening- I-"

"Y/n you're my mate." Azriel blurted out.

"w-what? but- but I thought you and- you and-" Y/n stumbled over her words completely overwhelmed.

"Me and Elain? absolutely not, she and Lucien are serious now- she was just helping me with- well- letting me talk at her about you really..."

Y/n let out a shaky breath "Are- are you pranking me?"

Azriel's brows furrowed "No! gods no y/n not at all!"

he moved to encircle her into a hug "I'm yours if you'll have me sweetheart."

"Ive- ive liked you ever since I first saw you Azriel- I just- I thought you wanted Elain."

"Oh love" he sighed kissing her hair. "I want you- all I want is you- day in day out, I talk Elain's ear off."

Y/n smiled tearily up at him.

"There's that pretty smile hmm?" he cooed looking down at the girl.

"can I- can I kiss you?" Y/n murmured.

"You don't even have to ask" Azriel whispered.

Suddenly, their lips attached in rhythmic perfection, holding each other close.

a chorus of whoops and cheers are heard from inside and the pair start laughing into the kiss.

"mate." Azriel murmured into Y/n's soft lips.

"mate." She replied.

Maybe she wasn't so alone after all.

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my requests are always open!!

[jarofstyles]

Dress

Hellooo. Here is a best friends sister sorta request- h is best friends with your brother 👀 and he’s tired of hiding 👀 I think this is a one off, maybe a two off if I’m feeling spicy.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings! (Sign up on your browser and not the ISO app to avoid any stupid Apple fee my loves)

Words- 3k

Warnings- exhibitionism(don’t do stuff in public pls), dirty talk, soft dom!h, slight angst, slight mention of violence, people pleasing tendencies, etc etc etc

———

"I just wish things were different. I wish we didn't have to hide. I wish your brother knew about us. This sneaking around shit… it’s getting old. I don’t like having to pretend you aren’t the only fuckin’ thing I’m thinking about."

“I know…” The dark corner of the club was their solace. The humid air from the sea breeze leaked into the club around them and overly loud and slightly dated music being the unlikely reprove to having to keep up appearances through the last few days. Harry’s family always came with them on this vacation out to the islands and it used to be hell on earth. Each year she had tried her hardest to tamper down her crush, but now she didn’t have to.

Well, not unless their families were around.

With her brother in his own room, Harry had volunteered to take Y/N out as a ’chaperone’ of sorts and in turn, gave her a real taste of what it would be like if they didn’t have to hide their relationship- but she wasn’t exactly ready for the explosive way she knew her brother would react. He took things incredibly personally sometimes, but she was doing her best to try and not let it scare her too much. Harry was right- it was getting old. incredibly so, but it was hard to let go of her peacemaker mentality. She’d adopted it her whole life to keep the peace, diffuse situations, and now that she had finally found happiness with someone- it happened to be the one person that she knew he was going to freak out over.

“We need to tell him eventually, I know that. But I just…” Her fingers tangled in his necklaces, the alcohol making it easier to be emotionally vulnerable for once. “I don’t want to ruin it. Don’t want him to scare you away.”

Harry's heart ached as he looked at Y/N. He knew she was right, but the thought of hiding their relationship made him feel sick. Tired, even. He didn’t like having to watch his hands, where he was looking. He should be able to room with his girlfriend. It wasn’t like their parents hadn’t been rooting for it for ages, but he tried to understand where she was coming from.

Maybe it was a bit of the rose colored glasses keeping him from seeing what she did, but he didn’t feel the need to valiantly protect her brother from the knowledge that he was dating her. "I don't want to hide either, darling." He said softly. “M’not going to let anything come between us, especially not him." His hand slid up her thigh, wrapping around to the back of it and flexing his fingers.

"Your brother might piss me off when finds out, but only because he's probably, definitely going hit me. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise you that." His face grew more serious. "I don’t know how to make you understand that I am not afraid of him. I’ve been his mate for years. I know what he’s like but respectfully, he’s going to need to get over it and realize that I only have the best intentions..."

“I know.” She repeated, the humid air hitting her neck as she pushed bed hair off her shoulder, craning it to look up at him. It was unfair how handsome he was, with his curls sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck and the light shadow of facial hair since he had missed shaving yesterday. “I just… I know it’s selfish, but I want to spend tonight imagining he already knows and we don’t have to worry about anything. That no one would be all… shocked or even say anything if I do this.” Leaning up, she lightly pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before settling back on her feet, lips slowly separating. Harry made no move to pull away from her. If anything, he followed.

Harry's eyes shifted as he watched her, his heart picking in his chest. He loved the way she thought, the way she imagined a world where they didn't have to hide. Never once did he imagine himself to be one of those lovesick fuckers, but here he was again. Swooning over a goddamn kiss.

But really, who could blame him? He loved the way she kissed him, all soft and sweet and so damn gentle, like she was still a little hesitant he would say no even though they’d kissed dozens and dozens of times- stolen them right under everyone’s noses. As if he could ever say no- his body wouldn’t ever allow that. It was all greedy for her, had no capacity, no ability to deny her if anything when it came to telling his girl no. "Then let's imagine.”

Sinewy arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her back into their hidden corner, the music pumping around them and his body hiding her from the crowd.. "Let's imagine that your brother knows and he's okay with it. That he's even happy for us." He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing and nipping at her skin. “A little grossed out, because I think that you are… the most beautiful, incredible, sweet woman I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing… but that would only be the truth.”

“You really think that about me?” Her voice spoke solely to him. In their seclusion, people were still passing by, but no one paid attention. No one cared. To the rest of them, it looked like a young couple too loved up to keep hands off of each other. In most ways, that was the truth. Who knew invisibility could be such a gift at times?

Harry chuckled against her throat, his breath hot on her sticky skin. She smelled like sunscreen and that tequila sunrise she had accidentally splashed on herself, so a bit of orange juice and grenadine. Edible, summer, he wanted to sink into her and melt. "Of course I do." The man scoffed, his hands slowly roaming over her body as if he couldn't help himself. "And if your brother knew about us, I'd tell him exactly that. That I want you… and I want t’make you my girl properly. But that’s probably where it would stop, because I think he’d want to kill me if he knew what ran through my head when I get to see you.” Harry knew it was a good thing he wasn’t a mind reader, and that they’d gotten away with it for a bit so far. Yeah, he’d be taking a punch because he knew how Harry’s mind worked but he didn’t know that he fucking loved her- that this shit was different.

“Well… since we’re pretending all is right in the world right now…” Her hands splayed across his chest, chin tilted up as he pulled away from her throat. Starry eyes glazed over in love peering up just at him, not knowing she was the one he was orbiting. “Why don’t you enlighten me on the things you wouldn’t tell him?”

Harry's eyes glinted with amusement as he looked at her. "You really want to know, sweets?" He crooned, his voice low and sultry. "Alright then." His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him so she could feel just how much he wanted her.

"First... I'd never tell him that I think about you all the time. Like... right now, I'm imagining wrapping your legs around my waist and backing you up against that wall over there." His eyes flicked to the wall behind her before meeting her gaze again. "And how bad I want t’kiss you until you barely have any breath, make you borrow some of mine."

Y/N felt her breathing pick up, ironically enough, feeling trapped in the best way. Whenever Harry was around her she sort of wanted him to smother her, in a weird sort of way. it was hard to explain but close never felt close enough. Harry just had this sort of… way about him that had her itching to get close and bask in his own kind of warmth. It soothed her bones.

"N’then once you caught up, I'd keep kissing you until you were panting, so that cute little giggle that turns into that sexy moan that you do. Fuckin’ love that." he continued, his voice growing deeper as he showed little restraint with his words. It was easy to forget where they were when he got started. "And then... " He trailed off, leaning in to kiss her neck again, his breath hot against her skin. "Well, I probably shouldn't tell you the rest."

“Tell me.” She whined, in a way only tipsy Y/N wouldn’t feel shame for. “Please, baby?” Something she’d noticed was how strongly he did react to those little pet names so she kept them sparse, but seeing how he reacted always acted as a reward. “You can tell me. I want to know.”

He groaned low in his throat at the nickname, nipping at her earlobe before whispering to her the rest of the details he had been keeping away, waiting for the coaxing she had to pry out of him. "I'd slide my hand up your pretty little skirt and underneath your panties, feel how wet you already are for me. Slip a finger inside, nice n’slow at first, until you start to rock against my hand."

“Yeah? In front of all these people?” She was slightly shocked- but slightly not. Seeing as Harry had really struggled with not being able to publicly show her affection, she should have guessed he’d be handsy in all scenarios if he has the full permission- but this was more than she had anticipated. Even more so… She liked it.

"Mhm..." Harry agreed, his hands slowly sliding up her thighs, bunching the hem of her skirt as his hands went underneath without a second thought. "And if you kept making those little noises like you do when I touch you, no one would even notice."

Y/N she didn’t always make the best decisions but she knew she wouldn’t regret anything with Harry. As cocky as the man could be, as arrogant as he may appear, getting to know him up close and personal the last few months that they’d evolved into more than what they were… she knew he was a good guy. He was the type of guy she wanted. If he wasn’t, she wouldn’t be risking the peace her life had for it.

But no one ever said she wasn’t impulsive. “It is loud in here.” His body did hide hers in the corner, making it easy to be bolder. “So you should put your money where you mouth is, and touch me.”

"Oh, I plan on it" Harry said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn't waste any time in sliding his hand fully up her skirt, his fingers brushing against her skin as he made his way underneath her panties. His pace was careful, his touch light as he slowly slid a finger inside of her. Then soft hitch of her breath made him hum felt her bury her face in his chest to muffle any noise she might make. All talk, his girl, but he didn’t care too much- not when he felt that slick hole around his digit after being essentially edged all week. He continued to slowly pump his finger in and out, his thumb gently circling her puffy clit.

Biting his lip as he felt her clench around him, he could feel himself grow harder at the thought of being the one to make her feel like this. He added another finger, still moving slowly but picking up the pace slightly. "I want to take you out, show you off. I'm so tired of hiding you." Harry whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed a kiss to her temple as he continued to move his fingers inside of her. "I want everyone to know that you're mine. Don’t want to have t’sneak off in vacation just to play with my girl’s cunt. Should’ve been making you cum the whole time." Harry's other hand came up to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back so he could kiss her properly. His eager tongue slipped into her mouth as he continued to move his fingers inside of her, feeling her wetness coat his fingers.

She was clinging to him, her nails digging into his arms as she tried to keep quiet. Her breath was coming in short gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Face buried in his neck, her teeth sank into his skin to muffle her moans as he felt her shake against him. Y/N had never dabbled in public play before, and she knew no one could see, but the thrill of it all had her more wet than she had anticipated. Sure, the girl talked big game but she didn’t know what she would do if she had actually got caught being touched like this. Add in the fact that Harry’s tank top hugged him perfectly, his tattoos contrasting his skin, the broad shoulders and brush of his facial hair against her sensitive skin had her feeling drunk.

“That feels so fucking good.” She mewled, unsure if she wanted his mouth to keep her quiet or his chest.

"Shh..." Harry hushed her, his voice low and warning. "You have to be quiet, baby. Know it’s loud but y’don’t want anyone t’hear you." As much as he liked that idea, he knew his girl. That was something they’d need to work up to. Just feeling her dripping down his knuckles as he fingerfucked her was shocking enough, so he was more than pleased with this. His face nuzzled against her neck, his stubble scratching her sensitive skin. "Wrap your arms around my neck. Lean back against the wall."

Putting her trust in him was easy, or maybe it was the pent up sexual tension she hadn’t been able to release all trip as she did as he asked. The position made it look like a couple drunkenly making out, but his hand angled the farthest from the dancing drunk crowd was working slowly under her skirt.

Harry took advantage of her new position, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of her as his thumb continued to rub against her center. He felt her squirm against him, her arms tightening around his neck as she buried her face in his chest once more to muffle her moans. "Good girl... keepin’ so quiet for me... " He praised, his fingers picking up pace as he fought to keep himself calm. He glanced around quickly, making sure no one was paying attention to them, before he gently tugged her leg up, resting it on his hip.

The man had been good this whole trip. He’d played by her rules, trying his best to keep prolonged eye contact to a minimum, not leaning into her too much, not touching her, trying to act as he had in the past- but it was borderline impossible. Not with the way he felt about her. He wanted to rub all over her like a cat, wanted to wake up with her in the pretty room with the balcony and be the one to order her morning coffee. He was so tired of being good. In all honesty, the man didn’t care who found out anymore, not when being with her felt like this. Her little cunt gushing over his digits, dripping down the back of his hand as he curled his fingers just so.

"You're soaking through to my wrist..." Harry growled lowly, his other arm banded around her waist to keep her upright as her knees grew weak. He could feel her tensing up, her breath hitching as her body grew warmer. "Want you t’let go for me, love..." He curled his fingers one more time, pressing against her spot over and over as he rubbed his thumb in tight circles over her clit. Her whole body shuddered against him, her legs trembling as she tried to hold herself up. "You’re right there, baby. Can feel it. Let it go for me, my sweet girl... "

Harry buried his face in her hair as he felt her clamp down around his fingers, her body trembling slightly as she came silently against his hand. Her nails dug painfully into his shoulders as she bit down on his chest to keep quiet, her whimper muffled against his skin as she rode out her high. He held her leg tightly against his hip, his arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright as her body shook with her orgasm. His fingers remained buried inside her, his fingertips gently stroking against her spot as he kept her on edge, prolonging her orgasm the best he could.

Pulling her face up, he dragged her mouth back to his. Their kiss was sloppy and desperate, Harry's tongue pushing into her mouth as he devoured her whimpers, groaning in response as he felt her cunt clenching rhythmically around his fingers. One of his favorite feelings, his favorite tastes. The only ways it could be better would be with his tongue on her clit or his cock inside of her. His hand shifted, tangling in her hair, holding her head still as he ate at her mouth, swallowing her noises as he kept his fingers buried inside her trembling pussy.

"Shh, baby... I've got you... " Harry cooed, his voice low as he gently worked her down. Slowly removing his fingers, he brought them to his mouth and licked her taste off of them before he lowered her leg back down to the ground.

“We’re telling him. Tomorrow.” He mumbled, wiping his spit soaked fingers on his shorts. “I’m not spending the rest of this trip with you not in my bed because he’s gonna have a fuckin’ tantrum. He’ll get it over, baby.”

Looking down at her, his eyes softened significantly as he gazed at her flushed face and messy hair. "You're staying in my bed tonight. I’ve gone long enough without it. Everything else, we’ll figure out in the morning."

[moosesarecute]

He’s my mate

This is my chaotic mess of a first fanfic. Hope you enjoy.

Not proofread and English is not my first language, so please don’t be too harsh 🫣

//////////////////////////

When Rhysand send Feyre and his sister Y/N on a mission, the last thing he expected was for his dear little sister to be poisoned by something not even Madja had a cure for.

“She looks terrified” Feyre said looking worried.

“You still can’t get through her mental shields?” Madja asked.

Rhys only shook his head. He usually found it comforting that his sister had such a strong mental shield, he knew that no one, not even himself, could get through them unless she wanted them to.

However, now it only worsens his worst nightmare.

“I’m so sorry, Rhys” Feyre said. “I don’t know what happened”.

Before Rhys could answer, the doors to the room opened and Azriel and Cassian rushed in with Mor and Amren not far behind.

Azriel’s face got pale as he saw his mate, sitting on the floor, her violet eyes staring at nothing and breathing heavily. She looked so scared, it broke his heart.

“What happened?” He said. His shadows were already swirling around his mate, carefully stroking her hair.

“Poison” Rhys answered. “We don’t know what the cure is.”

The inner circle had never seen Azriel as worried. Sure, Y/N had been hurt before, way too many times if you asked Rhys, but they had previously always known how to help her.

Azriel moved slowly towards his mate and sat down beside her. His scared hands were shaking as he tried waving his hand in front of her face, but she was still staring far into nothing.

“Maybe if you hold her, Rhysand can get through her mental shields,” Madja suggested. “She would feel safer.”

Slowly, Azriel moved to sit with his mate in between his legs, his arm around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder and his wings covering their bodies.

Y/N breath instantly slowed, but she continued to shake.

“Try now,” Madja said, looking at Rhys.

Rhys took a deep breath, shifted his focus and tried to enter his sisters mind.

He spent some time seeking, but he eventually found a small gap in her shields.

He slipped in, through her wall of purple dust, and immediately found traces from the poison.

Rhys followed the trace and before he knew it, he got pulled into his sister’s worst memories.

***********

“You are not to see him again” your father said. “You are to be married to the heir of Spring, can’t have you messing around with an Illyrian bastard! You disappoint me, Y/N”

You were burning with anger. All your life you wanted nothing more than to get your father’s attention. For him to look at you with pride for all you had accomplished.

You were powerful. You had daemati powers stronger than your brother, you had multiple times beaten Cassian in hand battle and you flew faster than Azriel.

Azriel, the male who had your heart. Your biggest supporter, your wisest mentor, your best friend…your mate.

The male your father was forbidding you to see.

“You can’t mean that!” You cried out. You were fighting tears. You couldn’t lose Azriel, but you knew that if you cried, your father would never take you seriously.

“Oh, but I do.” Your father replied, taunting you. “You’re a female, not only a daughter, but a high lords daughter. If you thought you could choose your own fate, you’re more pathetic than I thought.”

You realized that your father had made up his mind. You only had one more idea that might help you convince your father.

“He’s my mate” you whispered.

You whispered, not because you were afraid, but because you had only said it aloud two times before in the 30 years you had known.

Your father looking at you, staring deep into your soul. “What did you say?”

“Azriel is my mate.” You said louder. You lifted your head and straightened your back. You were proud of your mate and you were going to show it.

Your father started breathing heavily and before you could react, he grabbed you by your shoulders, and pushed you hard into the bookshelf behind you. He held you tightly and you hissed in both fear and pain.

“You are NOT to be mated to a bastard lesser fae. You are going through with this marriage and if you even think the thought about being with the shadowsinger, I will not hesitate in having him killed.”

You father let go of you and you sank to the floor, crying.

“Pathetic” your father said, before he left the room.

**************

You were in the woods, fighting for your life.

The heir of Spring held you down into the ground, cutting your wings.

Your vision were blurry and your eyes heavy.

“Please, don’t harm her” your mother pleaded. “You can do anything you want with me, but please not my daughter.”

The torture had been going on for hours. They would cut, beat and whip your mother and then do the same to you.

You had stopped screaming. Your cries for help became fewer and far in between. It just hurt to much.

“Hold her still.” The heir of Spring told his youngest brother. “I want a souvenir.”

He started cutting your wings from your body. You threw up and then screamed before you threw up again. Your left wing were detached from your back.

“This is taking too long” his father said as his son were close to finishing cutting of your second wing.

The high lord reached for the sword and you have never felt more terror.

“No, please don’t” you pleaded, trying to crawl over to your mother.

The heir of Spring, your betrothed, held your head in place and forced open your eyes as the high lord beheaded your mother.

You emptied your stomach once more before your froze completely.

“We have to leave, finish her.”

The heir of spring grabbed what was left of your right wing and used his foot to keep you down as he ripped the wing from your body.

He then grabbed you and forced you over to your back.

“Let her bleed out.”

All of them winnowed away.

You laid on the ground, trying and failing to move over to your stomach. You were dying, you knew that.

As your eyes closed, you felt a tug in your chest and the last thing you did before you passed out was to tug back with all the force you had to give.

/////////////////////////

Rhys left his sister’s mind and immediately threw up. Feyre was at his side at once.

“What did you see?” Cassian asked.

Rhys only met Azriel’s eyes as he said “she’s reliving her worst memories.”

No one spoke for a while, but everyone could sense Azriel’s growing worry. He held his mate closer and whispered into her ear “you’re safe. You survived. You’re home. We’re mated.”

“I have only read about this in books.” Madja said. “I think the only way to stop the poison from spreading further is to make Y/N understand how happy she truly is. If not, she will die from terror.”

Madja walked over to Rhysand. “What did you see?”

“She wouldn’t want any of us to know that.” Azriel said.

“I know, it is invasive, but it might be the only way to save her.” Rhys said and after a while Azriel nodded in agreement. He would do anything to save his mate.

“I saw our father forbidding her to be with Azriel and…” Rhys stopped and took big breath. “And the attack where Spring…killed our mother.”

Everybody froze as they realized Rhys had just seen his own mother die. Feyre took his hand and squeezed it. A way of saying “I am here.”

Madja was the first to move. This time she walked over to Azriel. “You need to show Rhysand your happiest memories with Y/N so that he can enter her mind and show it to her.”

Even though Rhys was still filled with worry, he had an amusing smile on his face.

His sister and Azriel had been mated for over 450 years. They accepted the bond when she was 56 and he was 63 after two years of being together.

However, they usually kept every detail of their relationship secret. They didn’t even tell anyone that they were mates, they just disappeared for two weeks and showed up mated.

They always say they keep the details to themselves because of their occupations. Both being spies for the Night Court.

The inner circle knew that they wouldn’t share details, but they still always asked. Mor asked about their sex-life (Rhys always left the room when that was the topic), Cassian asked about when they would host family dinner at their house (Y/N would make one of their mother’s favorite recipes) and Rhys just wanted to make sure his sister was treated right.

“You don’t have to worry, Rhys,” you always answered. “Just because we don’t scream it from the House of Wind it doesn’t mean we aren’t happy.”

Azriel spent some time thinking about what memories he was going to show, but he eventually told Rhys he was ready.

“I am showing you,” he said. “You are not going to wander around in there.”

“Of course,” Rhys said and walked over to sit in front of his sister and Azriel.

Azriel’s mind shields were down. Rhys entered his mind and waited for the memories.

————————

I am exhausted, but happy. We won the blood rite. It had been the hardest week of my life so far, but we had won.

My brothers and I were walking towards our home in Windhaven. Before we could reach the entrance, the door flew open and out Y/N came running.

Y/N was Rhys’ 16 year old sister and she looked extremely happy.

“Thank the cauldron you are alright!” She spoke and basically jumped at Rhys.

He just laughed and hugged her.

“She is not happy to see us,” Cassian said to me.

“Of course I am!” She said and moved to hug Cassian. “It is just that Rhysie was the closest.”

“Stop calling me that,” Rhys said.

“Never”

She than moved over to me. And I felt time stop. Her arms embraced me and I hugged her back, but as she pulled back and looked me in my eyes, I felt it.

Snap

Y/N, my best friend’s younger sister, the daughter of the high lord of the Night Court, was my mate. My heart was filled with happiness.

Her eyes were as big as mine and I understood that it had snapped for her too.

“Ehm…” she said. “Dinner is ready inside.”

She then turned around and walked inside.

——————————

“I can’t believe he isn’t here,” Y/N cried into my chest. “It’s my 30th birthday and our father refuses me to see him! It’s not fair!”

I tightened my arms around her. It broke my heart to see her this upset.

Rhys and her had planed this entire day. They were going to fly around the mountains, have a picnic in the woods outside Velaris and then go to Rita’s with Cassian, Mor and I.

But the war was raging and Rhys nor Cassian were allowed to come home.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” I said, but I knew that it didn’t help much.

“I wish I had a normal father so that I could rebel and be awful towards him without it being treason,” she said.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t,” I said. “I don’t think his old heart could take it.”

She look at me with her big violet eyes and before I knew it we were both laughing. Probably because of the two empty wine bottles that stood beside us.

“You always know what to say to make me laugh,” she laughed. “That’s probably why we’re mates.”

I froze.

It was 14 years ago the bond snapped, but neither one of us had ever said it aloud…until now.

“Good night,” Y/N said quickly, before she jumped of the roof we sat on and flew away.

The smile that grew on my face lasted for multiple days.

————————

“You only have a couple of hours, so spend it well.”

I nodded and left Rhys’ and Y/N’s mother.

I quickly walked over to Y/N bedroom and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she sang and I opened the door. “Azriel…you know you can’t be here! If the high lord finds out you-“

“He won’t find out, I asked your mother for help,” I said.

She gaped at me and then smiled her big, beautiful and sweet smile.

“We have to go now though, we only have a few hours.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” I say as we start flying up to the mountains.

The flight didn’t take much time and we were soon at the picnic I had set up earlier.

“Wow,” Y/N said. “It’s beautiful.”

I really wasn’t. It was rushed. I had plucked a few flowers, brought a blanket to sit on and her mother had made us some food.

“I wanted us to at least have a day to pretend,” I said quietly.

“Let’s make it the best day ever,” she whispered back. “No arranged marriage to separate us.”

I took her hand and we sat down to eat.

We talked about what we wanted our life to be like. Life in Velaris, in a small house, at least two children (“No Y/N can grow up without a Rhysie,” you had said), a big garden, many flowers.

“I don’t want to marry the heir of Spring,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I want you.”

I took her hand. My shadows were playing with her hair and speaking to me “mate, upset, make mate happy”

“I want you too, princess,” I replied fighting back tears.

I looked deep into her eyes, took my other hand and tucked her hair behind her ears. “My beautiful mate. I am the luckiest male in all of Prythian even if I can’t have you in this lifetime.”

Now we were both crying.

She then let go of my hand and held up her pinky finger.

“All other lifetimes?” She asked me.

I immediately took her pinky in mine.

“All other lifetimes.”

Two small identical tattoos appeared round our pinky fingers.

I moved closer to her and she did the same. We both spend some time looking at each other, still crying, before we leaned into each other and our lips met.

It started soft and cute before it grew hungrier. We were both full on sobbing at the time I pulled away.

“Are you sure?” I asked, hoping she would say yes. I waited for her answer.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” she answered and kissed me.

——————————

“I can sleep on the floor,” I said.

We were on a mission on the continent undercover as mates. Pretending to be mates weren’t hard since we were mates, but Rhys didn’t know that.

“Ha, you’re funny,” Y/N said. “Either we share the bed or we both sleep on the floor.”

We were trying to find out if the rumors we heard about a war starting on the continent were true. To our relief, it seemed like it only was a rumor and nothing more.

Since we were undercover as newly mated we had gotten a room with only one bed.

“We’ll take the bed then,” I decided. “Can’t have you hurting your back.”

Y/N froze and looked at me. “How did you know about my back pain?”

Shit

“I…ehmmm…”

She looked at me with wary eyes. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I just…feel it sometimes.”

She looked like she had seen a ghost. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry, Azriel. I should have thought about that.”

She looked at me, but didn’t meet my eyes.

As mates, I sometimes felt the same emotions or feelings as she did. And I had realized that after the attack on her and her mother ten years ago, she had been dealing with back pain.

“It that why it always magically appears a bottle of pain relief outside my door on the bad days?” Y/N asked me, now looking directly into my eyes and soul.

“I might have had something to do with that, yes.”

She nodded as a reply.

That was the end of the conversation. We prepared for bed. After we both had gotten into the bed, her on the left side, me on the right with my wings hanging out in the side of the bed, she started crying.

“I’m sorry for shutting you out all these years,” she cried.

I didn’t know what to say or do. I just laid completely still and looked at her.

Slowly, my shadows moved towards her. One of them dried her tears while two others played with her hair. I tried to stop them and get them back to me, but they didn’t listen. “Mate, upset, have to make mate happy.” they said on repeat.

“I didn’t think you could even want me anymore,” she continued. “I would understand if you didn’t, of course. I’m not who I just to be, I’m not myself. But then Rhys forced me to start going on missions again last year and I realized how much I missed having my family around. I felt more alone than ever. And when I started going to family dinners and Rhys told me how happy you were, I realized I hadn’t thought about what you were feeling through all of this. I completely ignored you, left you and you probably felt and still feel so betrayed. I…I’m so sorry, Az.”

I was still frozen. How could she think that was how I felt? I never felt betrayed by her, thought she felt betrayed by me. I’m her mate for cauldrons sake! And I almost let her die. She lost her wings, she would never fly again. I was too late to save her wings.

“Say something, master. Make mate happy. You can make mate happy.” My shadows almost screamed in my ears.

“I…,” I started to speak but had to stop. I needed to get this right. “I never felt betrayed by you not being the same you as you were before the attack, Y/N. You needed time to heal. We could have helped you to get better, but we knew that if we forced ourselves into your life, you would shut us out and it would all become worse. You are way too stubborn for that.” We both chuckled. “You have grown. You’re not longer just a high lord’s daughter who had to do everything your father said, you’re Y/N. You’re Y/N, the female that always asks what’s for dessert even before we have started to eat dinner. You’re Y/N, who always do everything you can to annoy your brothers. You’re Y/N, you’re always brutally honest and we love you for it. I love you for it.

“If you hadn’t had time for yourself, you wouldn’t have time to figure out that you don’t like the color orange, or that you wanted to dye your hair purple streaks, or that you like training in the morning so that you can enjoy your book at night.

“As long as I’m allowed to be in your life now, I’m happy. Even if we’re just friends or family. I just need you to be yourself. It’s the Y/N you’re now that we love.”

Her mouth was wide open. Then it closed before she opened it again.

“I never think I’ve heard you say that much before.” She said with a small laugh.

“I don’t think I have ever said that much before.”

“I want you in my life,” she said. “I have loved pretending to be your mate. I…I don’t want to pretend that you’re mine, I want you to be mine.”

Before I even could react, my shadows were swirling around us, pushing us closer to one another until our lips were only millimeters apart.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked.

I kissed her as an answer. My heart had never felt so full of love.

——————————

It had been a long day with meetings in the court of nightmares. I had my usual place, standing against the wall and making sure no one was lurking around.

My mate had left her usual place, standing beside her brother, and was walking over to me.

“The high lord will soon be going home,” she told me, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking around the room, still very much playing the role as the scary night court princess.

I then felt her soft touch on my mental shields, asking for access. I let her in.

“I was planing on making an apple pie this weekend, at the cabin,” she told me. Her voice was shaky. She was nervous. “Or if you want something else I can make something else. Or if you don’t want nothing at all we can just-“

“Apple pie would be great,” I answer, my voice almost as shaky as hers.

“Good,” she said and left my mind.

She gave me I small smile before she walked back to her place beside her brother.

“I love my mate,” was all I was able to think about.

—————————

“And then he used his shadows to make me fall over!” Cassian explained. “Totally unfair.”

“It seems like you have had a rough day, Cass. Did you miss your midday nap?” Mor asked him.

She then looked at me and lifted her wine glass “cheers to that.”

I lifted my glass and held it up to my lips as I felt it.

It couldn’t be.

I wouldn’t believe it.

But then I felt it again. A tug.

I lowered my glass.

“Everything okey, brother?” Cassian looked concerned.

Another tug and then a soft touch to my mental shield had me gasping.

My heart was going crazy.

I lowered my mental shields.

“You could at least have cleaned the place,” my mate’s voice sang in my head.

I let the glass fall to the floor and before my brother could react I ran to the balcony and started flying towards my mate and I’s shared house.

I hadn’t been there in 50 years. Ever since my mate and Rhys had been under the mountain, I hadn’t been able to even look at our house. Our small cottage with just enough space for the two of us. And a spare room for Cassian, of course.

The flight only took 30 seconds, but it was the longest 30 seconds of my life. I tried not to get my hopes up. What if she wasn’t actually there?

I landed in your garden and ran towards an open front door.

I stopped, too scared to go inside. What if I only imagined it all.

My shadows went crazy around me, pulling both my hands and legs. “Mate, home, mate, home”.

Tears ran down my face as I walked through the door.

Standing in the middle of the room was my beautiful mate. She was way too thin, her hair was a mess and she started sobbing as she saw me.

Before I could reach her she fell to her knees. I fell to my knees in front of her and embraced her together with my shadows.

“You’re home,” I cried.

“I’m home,” she whispered into my chest.

——————————

“You’re staring,” Y/N said into my head.

We had just sat down to eat dinner. Our entire family was here and we had just met Feyre.

“I’m sorry that I like to look at my wife,” I answered. “You look beautiful.”

I took my her plate and filled it with food.

“It’s cute that you still feed me,” Y/N spoke. “I like it, husband.”

“Should we tell them?” I asked.

“Maybe not overwhelm Feyre. I think Mor and Cassian is going to freak out when they find out we didn’t invite them to our wedding.”

“But we didn’t invite anyone.”

The truth was that they on a whim had eloped, just over an hour ago.

“What are you talking about you two lovebirds?” Mor asked.

“Nothing,” both of us said.

Y/N quickly shifted the conversation by asking “Soooo, what’s for dessert.”

Everybody laughed.

////////////////////

Rhys left Azriel’s mind. Both males were crying.

“I had no clue you were that young.” Rhys said. “And that you fought so hard for it.”

Azriel just nodded and tightened his arms around his mate. Y/N was now shaking even worse than before. She looked extremely pale and exhausted. “Just get her back to me, I’ll tell our entire story from start to now, as long as you get her back to me.”

Rhys saw the desperate look on his brother’s face and hurried to enter his sister’s mind.

He was met with a wall of terror, not even one trace of his sister’s normal calm mind. He began working, pushing memory after memory towards the wall and slowly but surely watched it disappear.

Then he was forcefully pulled out of her mind.

“You’re okay, breathe, breathe, good girl,” Azriel spoke.

Y/N was now on her hands and knees, still panting and shaking, but she was moving. She had thrown up, but Rhys removed it with magic. Azriel held a hand on her back and held her hair.

He looked extremely relieved.

“Are you okey?” Rhys asked.

Y/N met his worried gaze and moved over to him.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Rhysie.”

Rhys didn’t waste a second embracing his sister.

The rest of the inner circle slowly left the room, they understood that the siblings needed some time alone.

But, of course, all of Azriel’s shadows stayed to make sure their mate was alright.

———————

Azriel was waiting outside the room. He knew Y/N was alright and that she would come get him when she’s ready, but he just wanted to hold her and never let go.

“Well, well brother,” Cassian said with a smug smile.

“What?” He asked.

“You said you’d tell the entire story of your relationship. So I figured you could start now.”

The doors to the room opened and out walked Y/N and Rhys.

“Why not start explaining that your bond snapped when Y/N was just a teen and that you have been married for multiple years, hmm?” Rhys said and you punched him in the arm.

“WHAT?” Cassian and Mor yelled.

A quick look was shared between Azriel and Y/N before both of them took off running and before the others could react, they had winnowed away.

[megalony]

Can't You Be Mine- Part 3

This is the newest part of my Evan Buckley series, and I hope you will all like it. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Summary: Now that Minnie has started referring to Evan as her dad, he has officially adopted her. And he turns up to protect and look after her and (Y/n) when they need him.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, I was thinking…"

Tilting her head to the side, (Y/n) let her eyes loll to the right to look across at Maddie. She knew that tone of voice. She knew whatever Maddie was going to say next was either going to be controversial or something big, possibly shocking.

She let herself sink further in her seat as she folded her arms over her chest, resting them down against her stomach that came up like a big bump in the road. Although sometimes, like now, her stomach acted like a cushion or an armrest.

(Y/n) had taken to seeing what she could rest on her bump when it started getting bigger, just to see Evan's reaction.

His words were usually something along the lines of 'Don't use it as a table!' or 'Stop resting your drink on them.' And if she tried to rest anything light on her stomach while she was walking around the house, he always responded with 'You know I'll carry that for you, right?' but she was only doing it to tease him.

"Oh yeah?" (Y/n) grinned and started to dance her fingertips across her bump.

"We need to throw you a baby shower."

"We do?" That wasn't what (Y/n) had been expecting to hear.

"Yes, we need to celebrate. Plus, I had Jee during covid, so we never got to celebrate one for her. I think it'd be nice, Buck's already desperate to throw one."

"Oh, I bet he is… I guess it will be fun." A tender smile danced across her lips as she looked down at her stomach as if she could see through to the baby. It would be nice to celebrate and have a little get together. Everything was going great now, (Y/n) and Evan had moved in together, he had adopted Minnie, they were having a baby together.

Other than the brief setback of the run in with Mick at the store, things were the best they had ever been for (Y/n). She had never been happier or more content and she felt that she had a family with Evan's team and Maddie had truly become a sister to her. It was lovely.

(Y/n) looked ahead at the road and tried to keep her eyes on the beach they were passing by.

She hadn't been out the house in two weeks.

When Evan went to work, (Y/n) felt too nervous to go out alone. She didn't want to run into Mick, he was out on bail and (Y/n) just knew that he would be hanging around this area in the hopes of running into her again. He loved terrorising her. He loved making her feel timid and frightened of her own shadow, it gave him power over her.

She couldn't go out on her own, what if she ran into him again? She wasn't going to be much use defending herself or the baby.

Staying home where she could lock all the doors and windows felt safer than trying to leave. Minnie had only just gone back to school this week and she was not enjoying it. She didn't want to be at school, she wanted to be at home with either (Y/n) or Evan or both of them. She wanted protection and she didn't feel safe at school.

It had taken Maddie almost an hour to convince (Y/n) to come out this afternoon with the girls.

It was a lovely warm day and Maddie said they could go to the beach or the arcades and do something with Minnie and Jee. Whether it was just going for a walk and an ice cream and then going home, at least being out for a drive would get them out the house and back to a sense of normality. And (Y/n) didn't feel able to decline.

"Did you have a shower for Minnie?" Maddie looked across at (Y/n), noticing the way she had shrunk down in her seat and was absentmindedly gliding her hand up and down her bump.

"No, my parents were happy I left Mick, but they thought it was a mistake to have Minnie on my own."

All of (Y/n)'s family had seen how Mick's temper would flare and they noticed the bad effect he had on her. Making (Y/n) feel belittled and constantly on edge, how she never got to spend much time with her family when he was around and how he tried to control what she did and who she talked to.

They were thrilled when (Y/n) managed to cut all ties with him and escape, but knowing she was having a baby on her own wasn't something her family thought she should do. They thought it would be too hard for (Y/n) and when she and Minnie moved out to LA, they worried she wouldn't fair well on her own looking after Minnie.

Things had gone a bit smoother between (Y/n) and her family when they saw how happy Minnie made (Y/n) and how well the pair of them were doing. And now that Evan was in the picture, (Y/n) felt more able to talk and be around her family without feeling judged or like they thought she couldn't cope.

"Well, we will throw a great shower and show them just how wrong they were."

"Do you think your parents would come?" (Y/n) didn't want to upset Maddie if talking about her parents wasn't something she wanted to do, but she was curious.

(Y/n) had heard Evan on the phone to his parents a few times- each time it had been him to call them, never the other way around. (Y/n) had yet to see them call him and ask how he was or what was going on in his life. She heard the way Evan sounded dull when he talked to his parents. He told them he was happy in a new relationship but he didn't seem like he was expecting much back from them or much of a reaction or a glowing praise.

She had also witnessed the conversation where Evan told them he had adopted Minnie.

His parents hadn't been upset, per say, but they sounded cautious, as if this was something Evan was doing on a whim rather than something he had thought and talked about extensively and knew in his heart it was something he wanted to do.

Evan had told them it was what he wanted, that he loved Minnie and if he was going to tell people she was his daughter, he needed to adopt her and make it real. He wanted to adopt Minnie so she was truly his daughter. It meant he could be an emergency contact for her and he could be on her doctor's file. He could be on her school file and he could pick her up from school early, take her to appointments or anywhere she needed.

It also meant he could give her his last name, something Minnie was now ecstatic with. She had been practising how to write Buckley and learning how to spell it and she had told her teacher as soon as her name was changed.

Both (Y/n) and Evan were hoping that in a few years when Minnie was older, these memories would be fuzzy for her. She wouldn't remember she used to have (Y/n)'s last name or that she hadn't had Evan in her life from the very beginning.

"I'm sure they will, I've told them how happy Buck is after the move and everything. I'll make sure they come over when we organise the shower." Maddie reached across and delicately ran her hand over (Y/n)'s bump for a few seconds.

She wouldn't stand for their parents not being there at the baby shower. This was another grandchild for them. Maddie had already made it clear how happy and complete Evan felt in this relationship and that in taking Minnie on, it meant the rest of them did too.

Minnie was referring to Maddie and Chimney as her aunt and uncle and Maddie had told her parents that Minnie would need to be treated as their grandchild along with Jee and the new baby. If they didn't, they wouldn't be having contact with the new baby because it wouldn't be fair to Minnie. This was the way things were going to be.

Tilting her head up, Maddie looked in the rear-view mirror to see the two girls sitting idly in the back. "Shall we go get an ice cream?"

Both of them grinned and squealed their replies, kicking their legs in their car seats. (Y/n) couldn't of been happier that Minnie seemed very happy when she was around Jee. She got along with her class mates, but she didn't exactly make friends very well, she liked to keep to herself and her teachers said it was hard to get her socialising.

But there was only 16 months difference between Minnie and Jee and they were getting along like a house on fire. (Y/n) wondered if it was because Jee was technically her cousin now and because they were family, maybe Minnie felt more at ease around her and more eager to play and get along.

Once Maddie pulled up, (Y/n) sat forward and clicked her spine into place which caused her to wince.

She could feel the baby wriggling and when she climbed out the car, it felt like her stomach was weighing her down to the floor. It was going to be a rough few months if she was six months along and was already starting to feel discomfort.

She opened the back door and smiled down at Minnie who had been singing along to the radio the whole drive. But now it was time to get out, she could see her daughter looked nervous.

She held the Fireman Sam teddy closer to her chest and tensed up when her belt was taken off. Evan had given her the teddy and she barely let it out of her sights. And Evan had been both surprised and delighted when he came home from work last week and found that Minnie had gotten a pink pen and drawn and splotchy birth mark onto the teddy to make it resemble him. It had also caused her to ask Evan why she didn't have a mark like that too.

"Is daddy coming?"

"No, baby he's at work today. We're having a girls day." (Y/n) lifted Minnie out of her seat and set her down.

The same as (Y/n), Minnie hadn't left the house the first week after the shopping incident. She didn't want to and they didn't want to rush her. She had gone back to school this week but she hated every moment of it and was relieved to be taken back home at the end of the day. This was the first time she was going out somewhere other than school, but she wanted Evan.

She knew he would keep them safe, just like he did when he bustled into the shop two weeks ago and took them home. He promised he would keep her safe and Minnie wanted her dad stood in front of her like a protective shield. She wanted to be wrapped up in his arms because no bad people would mess with him.

"Your daddy said he wanted pictures of you having fun, why don't we see if we can win him a teddy from the arcades after an ice cream?" Maddie locked the car and looked over at Minnie who seemed to relax at her words.

With her left hand tightly clasped in (Y/n)'s and her teddy pinned under her arm, Minnie reached her other hand out and held Jee's hand. Both to keep her cousin heading in the right direction and to make them both feel safe and secure. The four of them made their way to the promenade along the sea front where Maddie said they would find an ice cream shop.

Minnie leaned her head into (Y/n)'s hip and nuzzled into her side as they walked down the promenade. She didn't want to be here, she wanted to go back home or stay driving in the car where it was safe.

"I want daddy." She tilted her head back and looked up at (Y/n) with those big pupils that looked like black holes that could ensnare everything in their path.

She let go of (Y/n)'s hand in favour of moving her arm to her chest to hold the Fireman Sam teddy so she could nuzzle her face against the top of the soft cotton. She wanted to go home now.

"You can call him later and tell him how brave you've been going out to the beach today."

"He'll be extra proud of you." Maddie winked when she could see that her words clicked something inside of Minnie's mind. She might just try and stay out a bit longer if she thought she could make Evan proud, not that she would have to do much to do that in the first place. He would be proud she had left the house, but if she could tell him she had been all the way to the beach and out for a long walk, he would be very pleased.

She nodded, her expression a little more relaxed, but she still didn't look so satisfied or at ease. She kept her mouth and nose nuzzled into her teddy and started humming as they all walked in line down the path beside the sea front.

"Wait with aunt Maddie and Jee while I grab us all some ice cream." (Y/n) kissed the top of Minnie's head and gently ushered her to stand over with Maddie and Jee.

Minnie huddled up into Maddie's side while her beady eyes followed her mum who waited in line for the ice cream. She tucked her toy tighter into her chest and pressed her lips against it again while her feet began to tap against the floor.

When Maddie took a few steps back and sat down on a bench, Jee perched next to her, holding her own teddy in her hands and quietly chatting to it like it was an old friend. And Minnie gingerly looked up at Maddie before tapping her knee, silently asking if she could sit with her.

"Come here," Maddie murmured, lifting the little girl up to sit her down on her knee. She could tell it made Minnie feel better and more secure when she felt Maddie's arms cocoon around her middle. No one could try and grab her or hurt her if she was wrapped up like this. "What's this?"

She pointed at the teddy in Minnie's hands and perched her chin on her niece's shoulder.

"It's daddy," She held the teddy out so Maddie could see her craftwork and the blobbed red ink above the right eye that resembled Evan's birthmark rather well. "Are you older than him?"

The question caught Maddie by surprise and she raised a brow, fighting off a smile as she swayed them from side to side.

"I am, I used to look after your dad when he was little."

"He said I'll be a big sister, like you… but why is daddy taller than you if he's littler?" Minnie liked the thought of being like Maddie, when Evan explained that Maddie was his big sister and she was very important in his life. He said she would be the same to the new baby.

Although Evan would never let history repeat itself where Minnie would have to love and raise her sibling, he didn't want that for anyone, especially not his own kids. As much as Evan loved Maddie for raising him, she shouldn't of had to and she had been the best part of his childhood, but that must have also been the worst part of hers. Forced to grow up, forced to raise him like he was hers rather than her brother.

"He's always been tall, you can't control your height." She watched as Minnie snuggled back into her chest and shifted down a little while her eyes focused on her teddy that was squashed against her chest.

When (Y/n) came back over and sat down next to her, Maddie grinned as Jee shuffled into her side to reach out for an ice cream. Both (Y/n) and Minnie seemed to be a bit calmer than this morning when they decided to come out here.

She knew Evan hadn't been happy when he spoke to her the other day. He was angry that Mark had the nerve to try and hurt (Y/n) in broad daylight, especially when Minnie had been there. (Y/n) had been doing so well going out on her own and feeling more confident in herself, and no Mark had gone and set her progress back miles and Evan just wanted to pummel him for it.

But for now, they would all be okay, and they would have a fun afternoon together.

***

Reaching down, (Y/n) kindly took the Fireman Sam teddy held out to her and she stuffed it in her bag hanging on her shoulder. Minnie couldn't carry two teddies at once if she wanted to hold (Y/n)'s hand as well. She had barely let go of her mother's hand at all, too afraid letting go might get them separated or allow someone like the bad man to hurt either of them.

But Minnie had done amazingly well so far. They had walked down the promenade, been along the sea front for a while, and now they were in the arcades.

Maddie had helped Minnie win a dog teddy from a crane machine and that was what Minnie was holding proudly. She wanted to give it to Evan when he came home tonight so she was parading around with it, meaning her Fireman Sam teddy was confined to (Y/n)'s bag for the time being.

When Minnie took her hand again, (Y/n) glanced around the arcade that was just a little too loud for her liking.

She looked across to where Maddie and Jee were just finishing up with one of the water gun games and she and Minnie headed over to them.

"This one! Mama do this one." Jee tugged on Maddie's hand and guided her over to the basketball game. She knew that was one that Maddie had a weakness for and when Maddie raised a brow at (Y/n), she rolled her eyes playfully and nodded.

When Evan was younger and Maddie used to take him to the arcade, this was the game they spent the most time and money on. They would play and play and rack up the tickets because both of them were accustomed players. (Y/n) was happy to take Evan's place and have a battle with her sister in law.

She felt Minnie cuddle up into her side while Jee stood between Maddie's legs, her hands excitedly tapping away on the front of the machine so she could eagerly watch the numbers at the back.

Clicking her spine into place, (Y/n) ran her hand along the side of her stomach where the baby was happily kicking up a fuss. She reached forward when the buzzer went off and grabbed the nearest basketball. (Y/n) liked this game.

"Go mummy!"

"Hurry mama!"

Jee helped roll the basketballs towards Maddie while Minnie clung to (Y/n)'s leg and leant her head against her mum's stomach. Jostling every now and then when (Y/n) had to keep reaching out for the basketballs because waiting for them to fall to the end wasted precious time.

Minnie began to count the scores, shouting out every time (Y/n) scored and she banged her hands on the side of the machine happily when both of them got through to the next round.

"I'm sweating already," (Y/n) mumbled, dragging her fingers through her hair as she clicked her back into place again. Leaning back and forth was starting to cause an ache in her lower back but the competitive streak within her was taking over.

Once the second round started, the hoop began to move from side to side, but it didn't bother either woman. Both of them seemed to be hitting baskets just one second after the other.

"Yay mummy! Round three."

"I don't think I can, you take over for me." (Y/n) took a step back and steered Minnie in front of her. She didn't have the energy for another round, and Maddie's score wasn't enough to get her into a third round which meant (Y/n) had won.

She rolled the basketballs down for Minnie who did her best, getting two or three before the timer ran out.

"Okay, what's next, now that you've beaten me?"

"Horses? Please?" Jee looked up at Maddie and pointed to the miniature merry go round next to the Dance Step game.

"Do you want to have a go?" Maddie looked down at Minnie but she shook her head. She was more interested in the crane machines or the 2p machines rather than the motion rides like that.

Minnie took (Y/n)'s hand again as they followed Maddie over to the merry go round so they could watch Jee. She was younger so this was something she enjoed and preferred and Jee was such a smiley girl that they would be able to take a lot of good photos today. They had gotten some selfies earlier where both girls had ice cream splattered across their faces. It had been a while since (Y/n) had taken any photos that weren't just of Evan or Minnie, so to have a few with Maddie and then some with all four of them was lovely.

Once Jee was perched on the golden horse and the merry go round was slowly spinning in circles, playing a rhythmic, if rather pitched tune, Maddie stood next to (Y/n). The pair of them leaned back against the Dance Step machine with tender grins and Maddie had her phone out, taking a little video.

Glancing behind her, (Y/n) watched the Dance icon stepping from left to right as the arrows lit up the screen. She loved those games, especially when she got to play the old nineties tunes and levelled up to the hard rounds.

"If I wasn't pregnant right now…" She looked wistfully at the machine while she felt Maddie's elbow gently nudging her side.

(Y/n) couldn't try it, not even on the easy level, not with her back playing up, but if they came back to the arcade once the baby was born, that would be the first game she would go on. She and Maddie could have a few rounds and see who could best the other.

When a sudden bang echoed through the overcrowded arcade, (Y/n) glanced to the left and felt a shudder run through her. Someone had backed up into one of the penny machines and the echo caused Minnie to jolt into (Y/n)'s side. Big noises were never a problem, but since the shopping incident, Minnie was viewing everything as a threat.

"It's okay," (Y/n) murmured softly, running her hand through Minnie's hair and brushing the strands away from her eyes.

Minnie dithered at her side, her eyes wide and scanning around the arcade as if she was searching for a threat.

This was why she wanted Evan to come out with them. If he was here, he would pick her up. If Evan was here, he would hold her in his arms and tell her everything was alright and no one would dare mess with him or come near Minnie or her mum if he was here.

But without him, everyone was getting too close. There were teenagers running around and a few men messing around near the machines like they were trying to break into them or shake them until all the coins fell out.

What if one of them came over and tried to hurt (Y/n) again? What if they pushed her or went to hurt Maddie? What if they started saying mean things like the other man did and tried to come near Minnie and Jee? What would they do?

Minnie could feel her heart racing as she cuddled the teddy closer to her chest, binding her arms around it so tight that if it had been breathing, it would of suffocated by now.

When the men continued to bash into the machine, Minnie couldn't find the will to look anywhere else. She could barely feel her mum's fingers running through her hair anymore trying to calm her down. But when the two men turned around and one of them started walking their way, Minnie started to shake.

She twisted to the left and scuttled away, following the patterned carpet like it was a trail guiding her somewhere safer. She weaved between the machines, jumping at every loud note of music that blasted from the machines and each time one of the zombie games let out a gunshot.

Her head tilted down and her arms pinned into her sides as she pelted off in a rush, unsure where exactly she was aiming for. She just wanted to get away and find somewhere safe.

"Minnie- baby no!" Reaching behind her, (Y/n) patted her hand down on Maddie's arm before she tried to hurry after her daughter.

Something had spooked her and she was pelting through the arcade.

(Y/n) shifted her bag strap so it was looped over her neck rather than just her shoulder, allowing her to speed up without losing her bag in the process. She weaved between the machines, holding her breath as she tried to look for her daughter's curly hair or spot the purple dress she was wearing.

Her panicked eyes scanned round as she weaved between parents, racing children and loud teenagers constantly getting in her path. Even though it was clear (Y/n) was trying to hurry after her child before they got separated. She couldn't allow that. Minnie was in a panic and if she got lost she would start to scream or think someone was going to snatch her.

She took a sharp left as her heart jumped into her throat; she was right near the exit. What if Minnie bolted outside? (Y/n) could easily lose her in the sea of people swarming about. Someone could take her hand and drag her away. Minnie could get swept up and wander too far.

Raging thoughts dwelled in her head as her throat clogged up and she couldn't take a proper breath. But just as she was about to rush out the open doors, something caught her eye.

"Minnie no!"

Lurching to the left, (Y/n) reached out for her five year old, but she wasn't quick enough. Minnie scuttled inside the prize drop of the crane machine before (Y/n) could get to her.

"Minnie, Minnie get out of there." (Y/n) dropped to her knees, despite the ache it caused in her lower stomach and the shockwave that it rattled up her spine.

She pushed the flap open and tried to reach her hand up, but Minnie was mewling like a trapped kitten. Her daughter wriggled and screamed, writhing in panic until she managed to shimmy out of the drop zone and climb over the plastic barrier. She tumbled like an acrobat and flopped onto the styrofoam cuttings and mingled in with the Disney Dumbo toys. The five year old curled up like she was trying to somehow blend in or become invisible, her dog toy cuddled to her chest and her head nuzzled against one of the other teddies surrounding her.

Each breath she took finally started to mellow out and she stopped screaming and whining, switching to deep breaths to try and calm back down.

Great.

(Y/n) could feel a wave of anger radiating through her, despite how badly she tried to fight it off when she looked at her daughter.

Why hide in there? She knew she couldn't go messing with the machines, it was dangerous. She could of broken her arm or a leg trying to get up there, it was a good job she was small and nimble.

Now (Y/n) was going to have to find an attendant and get them to unlock the machine to get Minnie out. And people were already starting to notice that there was a little girl hidden in with the toys. The last thing they needed was to cause another scene. Why would Minnie hide in there if she felt scared or spooked? How would being in there give her security or help her?

With a sigh, (Y/n) moved her hands to the glass and heaved herself off her knees and back to her feet. She tilted her head back and pressed her hand to her temple as she let herself lean against the glass separating her from her daughter.

She opened her eyes and jerked back a little when she felt a hand on her shoulder, but she relaxed, seeing it was only Maddie who had Jee sat on her right hip. Maddie seemed to look around, panic fuelling her eyes as she tried to find her niece, but when she looked at the claw machine, her lips pursed and her shoulders dropped.

"Oh," She muttered, fighting back a defeated smile while she squeezed (Y/n)'s arm. "I'll go get someone." She jostled Jee higher on her hip and hurried off to find someone who would have the keys.

"Baby, why'd you get in there?" (Y/n) rested one hand on her hip as she turned to face the glass which she leaned her temple against.

She looked down at her daughter who stayed curled up with her knees imbedded into the styrofoam and her tummy tucked over her legs. The way she looked up with those big doe eyes through her lashes made (Y/n)'s anger fizzle out and a wave of sympathy washed over her instead.

She barely managed to hear Minnie whisper "Bad man." As tears began to trickle down the little girl's face and she stayed cuddled up, wishing everyone crowding round would go away.

(Y/n) pushed off the machine and stood back on her feet properly when Maddie jogged back over with a young man following her. He didn't look much older than nineteen, with floppy hair falling in every direction and he was lazily chewing a piece of gum. The faded, bored look in his eyes brightened a little when he realised there actually was a little girl stuck in one of their machines.

"You can't take anything from the machine, you know that, right?" He raised a bored eyebrow and unclipped the keychain from his belt.

"She's not trying to take a toy, she's frightened." (Y/n) couldn't help but scowl at him as she folded her arms over her stomach and waited for him to unlock the glass door.

He huffed, nodding along as if to appease her while he switched to another key and tried to ram it into the lock.

By the time he switched to the fifth key on his chain, (Y/n) shared an annoyed look with Maddie and inched closer to the machine. Minnie was still cuddled up and the sight of the stranger in front of the machine was making her tremble and cower back. She had tears running down her face and every time she looked over at (Y/n), her lower lip wobbled.

"Do you know what you're doing?" (Y/n) snapped when the next key didn't work either. If he carried on she would take them from him and find the right one herself.

But her jaw dropped and she heard Maddie let out a disgruntled noise when they both watched the last key wriggle in the lock and suddenly, it snapped. Half the metal key stayed rammed in the lock while the end broke off in the attendant's hand.

His jaw dropped and those tired, unbothered eyes finally widened as shock plastered across his face. That clearly wasn't part of the plan and he hadn't done this before. No kid had managed to climb into the machine. Many had tried, some got into the prize drop area before their parents dragged them out. And a lot of stupid teenagers got their arms caught trying to reach up for a prize. But now the door was jammed, and Minnie was too unsettled to scramble back down. She could hurt herself trying to wriggle back down that thin prize drop zone.

"Oh shit." He mumbled to himself and he looked petrified when he turned to look at both women who were now glaring daggers into him.

"Well? What are you going to do now?" Maddie sounded stern and authoritive but she could feel herself getting angry when he shrugged.

"Lady, I- I don't have another key, anyway it's jammed."

He actually flinched when he heard (Y/n) mutter 'stupid boy' under her breath and when she gave his shoulder a forceful nudge, he took the hint. He backed up and stood to one side, deciding to tell other people to move on and stop crowding round.

"I guess I'm calling Evan." (Y/n) laughed cynically and fished around in her bag for her phone. She needed the fire department to come down here and bust this lock open to get her daughter out. And who better than her partner and his team to do the honours?

She stood to one side, staying close to the machine while Maddie moved over and looked down at Minnie, quietly asking if she was alright in there.

"Hi sweetheart, how's it going? Did you all go out somewhere?" Evan's voice made butterflies ignite in (Y/n)'s stomach and she fidgeted on the spot when she felt the baby moving too.

"Are you out on a call?"

"We're just about to head back to the station, why? Is everything okay?"

"Evan… could- could you and the team swing by and help us? We're at the arcades, and Minnie's got a bit, stuck."

It felt like too much to ask, but if she didn't ask or if Evan said they couldn't, she would have to call 911 anyway and get a different fire service to come out and help them. (Y/n) didn't want to bother Evan at work, she had never rang him at work before until two weeks ago after the whole supermarket fiasco. Now here she was, doing it again.

"Uh, stuck how?" Apprehension flooded Evan's voice but (Y/n) could hear him moving about and she just knew he was already getting the team ready to come down to them.

"She's inside a crane machine." (Y/n) darted her eyes over to Minnie who was sniffling, but she was listening attentively to Maddie who was trying to chat to her and keep her from fretting.

"Shit. Text me the address, we're coming now baby."

(Y/n) said her goodbyes and quickly sent a text to say which arcade they were in. Although by the time the team got here, people would be talking and murmuring and hovering around so it would be easy enough to see which one the commotion was in.

She leaned her head back against the machine and tapped her phone against her thigh as she looked down at Minnie.

"Your dad's coming to get you out." (Y/n) managed a tepid smile when Maddie jostled Jee on her hip, murmuring that she was going to see her dad too. At least the boys would get to see them for a little while, and both girls would be over the moon at seeing their dads on the job. Although this wasn't the best of circumstances.

"Daddy?"

A smile pulled at Minnie's lips as she lifted her head and wiped her nose against her sleeve. Locking eyes with her mum who rose a brow.

"Don't tell me you got in there so I could call your dad to come and get you out." She doubted that was Minnie's intention, she had been petrified of something and gone into panic mode. But she could see Minnie was calming down already at the thought of Evan coming to the rescue.

***

Evan looped the tool kit over his shoulder and spun away from the truck with a look of concentration plastered across his face.

He could feel Eddie and Chimney hovering close behind him as he walked away from the truck and headed over to the promenade. This wasn't the kind of callout he was expecting today. When (Y/n) called, he thought she would be telling him that they had gone out and had a good day, or that they only went out for a little while and then headed back home. He wasn't expecting to be told Minnie had scuttled into one of the arcade machines, for some very strange reason he wasn't sure of yet.

At least this was preferable to the phone call he'd had the other week. Never again did Evan want a stranger answering (Y/n)'s phone, trying desperately to tell him that there was some kind of incident involving his family at the store. He wasn't ready to be rushing from the station down to the shops, fretting that he would have to take his girls to the hospital.

"Why are we here, again?" Hen hurried to keep up with the rest of them, looping a medic bag on her shoulder just in case they needed to assess anyone.

"For some unknown reason, my daughter's managed to climb into one of the prize machines."

Evan jogged a bit faster as he spoke and rounded the corner. He had memorised the address (Y/n) sent to him, but he didn't really need it. There were people hovering outside the third arcade down the promenade and Evan would bet that was where his family was.

"Excuse me." He politely weaved between the families and teens all moving around, pretending to play on the games when really, they were trying to get a look at what was going on.

He saw Maddie first. He rested his hand down on her shoulder and grinned softly at Jee who was in her arm, looking very tired.

"Hi," Maddie squeezed his wrist and took a few steps back to let him get in front of her and see the scene. And when her sights set on Chimney, she moved over to him, letting their daughter scuttle into his arms as she squealed. She hadn't been expecting to see her dad here, in his uniform.

A wary smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips that were curved around her thumb as she had been biting her nails for the last ten minutes. She pushed off the machine she had been leaning against like a guard, protecting her daughter from anyone and everyone passing by.

The moment Evan was within reach, (Y/n) looped her arms around his neck and pushed up on her tiptoes to be level with him. She kissed his cheek while his left arm bound tight around her waist and he pulled her into his chest.

He dropped the tool kit down by his feet, briefly skimming his fingers across (Y/n)'s stomach before he leaned back to look down at her.

"Dare I ask why she's in there?" His eyes darted between the machine and (Y/n), noting that Minnie hadn't realised yet that he was here.

"She got scared and ran off, but I don't know why she clambered in there." (Y/n) felt like she could of melted on the spot when Evan hummed and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. She could feel his thumb stroking up and down her back while he slowly inched her backwards until he was in front of the machine.

When he unravelled his arms from (Y/n), Evan tapped his knuckles against the glass and placed both hands on his hips. He arched a brow and tilted his head down when Minnie's head shot up and a mixture of surprise and awe lit up her teary face when she realised Evan was here. Part of her hadn't believed that he would come down to get her out.

"Minnie Buckley."

The five year old scurried round so she was sitting up rather than lying down and she pinned the teddy she rightfully won earlier against her chest. The way she looked up at Evan through her lashes already had his heart melting and whatever sternness he had about him was starting to fade away.

"Let's get you out of there," He sighed and crouched down to rummage through the bag and see what he could find.

When he lifted his head, he frowned and tilted his head to one side as his fingers traced the lock. Someone had jammed the wrong key in and snapped it. No wonder they couldn't get her out.

"Okay," He grabbed a few tools and stood up to his full height again. At least Minnie had gotten into one of the larger crane machines, she seemed to have a lot of room in there which meant she hadn't panicked or gotten claustraphobic yet. "Shuffle back out the way, baby."

He waved his hand until she took the hint and inched back until she was pressed up against the back of the machine.

(Y/n) took a few more steps out the way when Eddie walked over to her, a kind smile on his face as he moved to stand beside Evan. He helped Evan wriggle the lock until they got the jammed piece of metal from the lock. And Evan switched tools, using a few picks and metal hooks while Eddie twisted the bolt lock with a wrench and the managed to break it.

Once the lock was broken and loose in the glass door, Evan curled his hand into a fist and bashed it against the lock. In one swift movement, the metal lock dropped into the machine, disappearing into the styrofoam. Which allowed Evan to hook his finger into the glass door and pull it open.

He took a step back, unable to stop the gracious smile from pulling at his lips and the moment he opened his arms, Minnie scrambled forward. She looped her arms- and the teddy- around Evan's neck and jumped so he could pick her up and cuddle her against his chest.

His lips attached to the top of her head and he moved over to the side while Eddie stuffed the tools back into the bag and moved over to Hen and Bobby. The three of them would take a wander round and wait back at the truck while Evan and Chimney finished up here with their families.

(Y/n) curled her hands around Evan's bicep and leaned her cheek against his shoulder, murmuring a soft "Thank you," into his arm while he kissed the top of her head.

After a few moments of running his hand up and down Minnie's back, Evan tilted backwards to look down at her and he rose a brow when she gingerly looked up at him through her lashes.

"Minnie, why'd you climb in there? You know that's naughty."

They both knew he never used her name unless it was serious or she was in trouble. Hearing her name from Evan's lips made her shudder and she tilted forward to bury her face in his shirt, but Evan wasn't having any of it. He held her in his right arm while his other hand gently but firmly gripped her chin and tilted her head back so she was looking at him again.

"What were you doing?" They needed to know. They had to know why she thought climbing into there was a better idea than staying with (Y/n) or simply running away if something was frightening.

She couldn't do that again because she wasn't going to fit into cramped places like that. She was lucky she was slim enough to get into that machine without becoming stuck or gaining a bad injury. Evan was more than happy to come down here and be the one to get her out of that machine, but he had to at least understand what Minnie had been up to and make sure she knew it was dangerous to do that.

"There was a bad man, hitting the machines… he- he couldn't get me out of there, could he?"

Evan's eyes darted over to (Y/n) and she could see the panic lighting him up like a Christmas tree, so she squeezed his arm and shook her head. Mark wasn't here. They hadn't been in any danger.

"Someone was getting rowdy, messing with the machines, she must have thought he would do something." She ran a hand down her face, warding off tears. Not only had Mark set (Y/n) back in her recovery, but now he had petrified Minnie too, and (Y/n) wanted to keep him as far away from her daughter as possible. She left him so he couldn't inflict any pain or panic onto her, but he had still managed it.

Minnie thought someone was going to hurt them and she had seen a chance to get away. If her mum couldn't get her out of that machine, then neither could a bad man.

With a sigh, Evan pressed his lips to the top of her head and peppered kisses up and down her temple and cheek. His hand smoothed up and down her back as he swayed them from left to right.

"No, no he couldn't, but you could of gotten stuck or hurt. If anything like that happens again, you don't leave mummy or aunt Maddie, okay? You just wait for me to come get you."

He felt her snuggle deeper into his chest with her head tucked safely beneath his chin and he smiled softly. His lips continued to pepper kisses against the top of her head while he reached one arm out to tuck (Y/n) up into his side. The three of them slowly made their way outside to where Maddie, Chimney and Jee were stood on the promenade.

"Please don't do that again, baby." Evan murmured into Minnie's hair. He didn't want to tell her off when she had been frightened and rightfully wanted to stay safe. But he didn't want the next phone call to be saying that Minnie had broken her arm or her leg or that she had gotten trapped. It would be a lot harder to get her out of one of those machines or something just like it if she was stuck and distressed and they had to cut through metal to reach her.

Minnie gingerly leaned her head back and unravelled one arm from Evan's neck so she could show him the toy dog she had won on one of the other machines. She watched as Evan raised a brow and reached his hand up to observe the toy.

"I won this for you daddy." Her voice was quiet and soft and very drained, making Evan sure that when he got home tonight, she would be fast asleep.

"For me?" When she nodded, Evan pecked her cheek and nuzzled his nose against hers. "Thank you, little mouse."

[minarisplaything]

Going Away Present ft. Jennie Kim

pairing: Blackpink Jennie Kim x M!Reader/M!OC rating: Explicit wordcount: 3.8k summary: Being the younger sibling of a member of Blackpink meant you were constantly surrounded by temptation. When the time for you to go away to college is coming up, one member decides to give you a special gift. disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. all characters portrayed are 18+

 It was just another day when you were walking up the front steps of your parents' house, grocery bags in hand. You couldn't help but wonder why you had been sent to get something so simple. Then again, Jisoo was in town, which meant your parents probably wanted to have some private time to catch up with her. Needless to say, being the member of a popular South Korean girl band and global ambassador for multiple brands required a lot of time away from home.

Pushing the front door open with your foot, you stumbled through the doorway, trying to see past the brown bags in your arms, “A little help—?"

"SURPRISE!!!"

A loud roar interrupted you as you stepped a foot into the house. You don't know what your reaction looked like, but judging from your slack jaw, it had to be some mixture of fear and bewilderment.

"W-What's going on?" you stammered, the bags practically falling out of your hands.

"We planned a surprise going-away party!" your mum explained as she walked towards you.

The smile on her face showed that she was clearly proud to have accomplished her goal. Your shocked expression slowly settled into a small smile and look of appreciation. Leave it to her to go above and beyond with something like this.

“Mum, I don’t leave for university for another month,” you said, handing the bags over to her.

“Yes, well, your sister is only here for two weeks then she has to leave on the international tour. So we decided to do it now. Go on, enjoy yourself, sweetie."

Your smile faltered somewhat. Ah, that explained it better. You would be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to going to university to make a fresh start for yourself out of your sister's shadow. You looked around the room, briefly noting the guests. It was the usual crowd; relatives, some schoolmates, longtime neighbors, and sure enough, your sister, Jisoo, and the other members of Blackpink.

You bit the bottom of your lip as you looked at them. Damn, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa looked amazing. No, you chastised yourself, Keep it together. Pushing your inappropriate thoughts aside, you turned back to the crowd of gathered people.

"Uh, thanks a lot for coming, guys. I’m sure there's plenty of food and drink, so let's enjoy ourselves."

Luckily, you were spared standing in an awkward silence as someone took the cue to start the music, and the party began. Now you say party, but that was being a bit generous. In reality, you spent most of the afternoon going around to various groups of people, talking and thanking them for coming. The questions were mostly the same: What university will you be going to? What will you be majoring in? How far is it? Have you thought about life after university and so on. It was exhausting, really.

Eventually, you worked your way to the backyard where the members of Blackpink stood gathered. Oddly enough, you had known them almost better than you knew anyone else at the party. In that sense, you couldn't help but be relieved when you finally made it to them.

"He's so grown up!" Chaeyoung squealed as you walked over. "I remember when he was eye level with me."

An embarrassed grin crossed your features as you stopped in front of them. Seeing them so often going through teenage years was never easy and often led to you excusing yourself to your room. At least now you could control yourself...mostly. Chaeyoung, or Rosie, was right though. Where you had once been eye-level and even shorter than her, you now towered over her.

“Ah, I never thought I’d see this day,” Jisoo said dramatically, moving over and wrapping an arm around you. “I was sure he’d drop out of school or something before university.”

The girls laughed as you shrugged her off, “Don't let mom and dad hear you saying that,” you teased looking over at her. "Besides, we all know I'm the brains in the family."

“Does that make me the talented one?”

The others laughed at the display of sibling bantering, and you couldn't help but join in. At moments like this, it was easy to forget just how famous she actually was.

Wearing a slight grin of her own, Jennie Kim moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your neck and standing to the side, “Be nice, Jisoo-unnie, it’s a special day for him,” she said before leaning up to give you a kiss on the cheek. You could immediately feel your face start to redden and hoped the fading sunlight in the yard was enough to mask it. “Plus we have a special way to send you off later.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. Jennie had always been your favorite among your sister’s friends, something you were sure they secretly knew but didn’t want to embarrass you by pointing out. The idea of a special send-off from her had already sent your mind down an optimistic path. Something Jennie seemed to pick up on as her grin grew.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! It's just a nice club downtown. Especially since you’re old enough to drink now.”

Not exactly the special gift your dirty mind had hoped for but you'd take it. Besides, there were people around the country who would kill to be in your position right now.

“Sounds perfect. This is a nice party and all but there's only so much excitement a going-away party thrown by your parents can have.”

“Don't worry, you’ll have plenty of excitement later,” Jennie winked at you, causing Jisoo to hit her playfully.

“Yah! Stop giving my baby brother the wrong idea!” Jisoo protested.

“Who said it's the wrong idea," Lisa chimed in, a mischievous look on her face, "We might find him a nice girl for the night."

"I'm not listening to this," your sister comically stuck her fingers in her ear.

A round of laughter broke out as Jisoo comically covered her ears. Undeterred, you looked around the yard before returning to the girls, "So when are you guys taking me out for this magical night?”

“Be ready by eleven. Lines aren't exactly an issue for us,” Jennie spoke up first.

You nodded, of course. Benefits of being famous and all.

“Sounds good. You’ll see us all then.”

You hesitated for a moment before leaning down to place a quick peck on Jennie's cheek. This, of course, caused teasing ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from the group. You walked away without looking back, but over your shoulder, you could hear Lisa talking as her gaze stared you down.

“He hasn’t even gone off on his own yet, and he’s making man moves.”

The rest of the party went as it had before your run-in with your sister and friends, which was to say boring and dull. Not that it was any fault of their own. It was hard to focus on casual conversation when your mind was already thinking ahead to going out to a club with Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa. And Jisoo as well, you supposed. Eventually, your parents were seeing everyone out, and you were able to slip away to get prepared for the night. Despite not being active in the nightlife scene, you felt compelled to look your best tonight.

It turned out Jennie hadn't been lying. After picking you up, you took a taxi to some club in the heart of the nightlife district. Even with yourself looking terribly out of place, you walked right in and were guided to a table in the VIP section. It was surreal, really. And while you recognized that for many, simply a night at the club with Blackpink would be a dream, your mind couldn't help but wander back to Jennie's words and hope for more.

After a few shots and celebratory toasts, the party was well and truly underway. You could feel yourself starting to loosen up, and whatever nerves you might've had beforehand began to fade away. Time seemed to flow at its own pace, and you were a passenger to its whims.

“I still can’t believe you guys just get VIP tables like this,” you leaned over to say to Jennie, who sat to your right.

“It’s one of the perks of the job,” she replied with a smile before sipping her current drink. “Do you want another?” she pointed to the bottle; you shrugged and held your glass out.

“Jennie! I’m going to go use the bathroom, Chaeyoung is coming with me,” Jisoo shouted over to you.

Her bandmate gave an affirmative response, leaving you alone with Jennie and Lisa. Your thoughts began to wander once again, but before you could work up the courage to act on any of them, you heard a voice calling out to you.

"Do you dance?" 

It was Lisa, leaning over the couch towards Jennie and you. 

Feeling your nerves suddenly come back, you stammered, “Well uh, not too often I can’t really say—"

Jennie's laughter filled your ear, "Just come on!" 

She placed her drink down and took one of your hands while Lisa grinned and took the other. Together they guided you from your booth to an area to dance. Which, while not as crowded as the main floor, was still packed. Jennie easily found you a nook to slide into. She turned around, looking up at you as she pressed her body close to yours and began moving to the electronic beat without a moment's hesitation. Similarly, you could feel Lisa pressing against you from behind, sandwiching you between the two women.

If this was your gift, you could die a happy person.

"Take a deep breath," Jennie says soothingly, her hands rising above her head as she moves effortlessly to the music. Was is that obvious? You try to follow suit, but your body remains rigid despite your best efforts to loosen up. She turns towards you, pressing her backside against your crotch, and you feel waves of pleasure course through your veins.

Without warning, she takes your hands and places them on her hips, leaving them there as if daring you to move them. As you stand frozen in shock, wondering if this is an invitation or not, Lisa wraps her arms around you from behind. Her fingers trace intricate patterns against your skin as she moves to the music.

"Oh fuck..." you muttered, hoping the music masked your comment from their ears.

The singer continued her moves, even going as far to ratchet it up as she slid down using your body as if it were a stripper pole. As a result it also caused your hands to move from her hips to where her breasts were. Unable to help yourself your fingers flexed, feeling the mounds concealed by her tight top.  As if spurred on by your actions her ass rotated, rubbing directly into your crotch over and over again. 

“Noona...Jennie...” you tried to warn but your words were lost in the stereo music as she continued to dance.

You could feel yourself beginning to grow hard but could do nothing to stop her as she moved to the song. Every now and then her arms would wrap around my neck, pulling you down ever so closely only to release you and resume grinding against you in various ways. To add on to that you could feel Lisa's body pressed firmly against mine from behind. Whether either girl sensed or felt what was stirring they didn't let it stop them.

“Ssh, enjoy yourself,” Jennie cooed over the music. 

And you were. Very much so in fact. 

After all, who wouldn’t be in this position? Jennie Kim was rubbing her fit ass against your crotch as she danced to the music to the point where it felt like she was giving you a private lap dance. Meanwhile, Lisa was letting her hands roam over your body as if she was worshiping your form. No one in their right mind would want this to end. 

It was only when Lisa moved from around you and began to dance with Jennie in front of you that you finally felt like you were in danger of doing something embarrassing. As intoxicating as the sight was, it wasn’t worth ejaculating inside your pants in front of them. Mustering what willpower you had, you forced yourself to take a step back, whispering a brief excuse. 

“Sorry, ladies, I need to take care of something.”

Before they could turn around to question you on the matter, you made my way through the crowd and made a beeline for the restroom; oblivious to the knowing looks and devilish smiles that the two women exchanged. 

“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you stumbled into a bathroom stall.

You braced yourself against the sides, taking deep breaths as you tried to compose yourself. Which was easier said than done when your cock was painfully hard. As tempting as it was to jerk off and relieve yourself, there was no way you were doing that in a public stall. That seemed like you’d be asking for some kind of infection.

No, no. You just need to take a few minutes, regain your composure, and then you’d go out there and pick up where you left off.

“They were just teasing me. No way that was serious…” you muttered to yourself. “But still…”

What if they weren’t just teasing? What if this was your chance to make a move? If their dance moves were any indication they were feeling it just as much as you were. And it was your birthday after all. Stranger things had happened before, right? Probably. 

Thinking about your plan, of the potential of success, didn’t exactly help quell your excitement but at least you weren’t sporting an aching bulge ready to tear through your pants. You left the stall, went to the sink and splashed some water on your face. With a look in the mirror you set your determination and made your way back to the dance floor.

When you didn’t spot the girls you made your way back to the VIP area where you saw Jennie sipping on her drink and looking at her phone.

“Hey,” you called out.

“There you are,” her eyes lit up as she looked up at you. 

“Decided to take a break?”

“Something like that.”

“What happened to Lisa? The others?” you asked.

Jennie leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. The tight dress she wore rode up her thighs, giving you a delicious sight, “Oh, she had something to take care of. I think your sister and Rosie are off dancing the night away.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remember your prior pep talk, “I guess it’s just the two of us.”

Jennie, meanwhile, wasn’t lacking confidence at all. She practically oozed it as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on one of her knees and placing her chin in her hand. She looked as though she could devour you with a single word and honestly, you would let her. 

“It seems that way,” she cooed, “I was actually thinking of getting out of here…” 

Your eyes went wide but you hoped you continued your composure otherwise, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Jennie raised her hand to her mouth in what you guessed was a faux yawn, “I’m feeling exhausted. I guess I can’t party the same way I used to.”

This was it. Your chance.

“I can take you home if you want.”

A wicked grin crossed her features. 

“Jisoo always said you were well-mannered. I’ll text the girls and tell them we’re heading out.”

LATER THAT NIGHT…

Your back crashed against Jennie’s door and her lips were immediately on yours.

From the moment you had entered the cab to get back to her place it had felt like a fever dream. Her hand had teasingly run along your thigh the whole ride and at one point her lips had found their way to your neck.

Once you had arrived and stumbled into her apartment, she was all over you. No more suggestive touches with hidden meanings, no more coy flirtations. Her lips were on yours while her hands grabbed at your body. It was exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. Despite not drinking more than that initial shot, your head was spinning. This was happening. It was somewhat fortunate that you didn’t have time to overthink it at all.

Jennie’s hands gripped at your shirt, quickly undoing the buttons and pushing it over your shoulders. Next her hands moved to your belt buckle, her teeth biting at your bottom lip as she looked up at you with a sex-crazed gaze.

“I didn’t give you a gift at your party did I?” she asked.

“I-I don’t think so,” you moaned, feeling her hand slip into your pants to grip your cock.

“Then consider my pussy your graduation gift,” Jennie said, “Or a going away present. Whichever you want to call it.”

Her words made your head spin to the point all you could do was nod dumbly. Jennie had a wicked smile on her features as she reached down, pulling your pants and boxers away to expose your aching erection. An erection that you’d been dealing with practically since the club.

“I was wondering what it looked like,” Jennie cooed. “You know, Lisa and I were taking bets on just how big it was.”

“You were?” the thought caused your cock to jump in excitement.

“Mhmm.” Jennie bit her bottom lip as she reached down, her fingers curling around your shaft. “She’s going to be jealous that I got to you first you know. You’d split her in half with this.”

The combination of Jennie stroking your cock and the image of plowing into Lisa was enough to make you more than ready to receive your gift. Something Jennie must have realized as well as you heard her let out a giggle. She rose to her feet and turned, briefly giving you a view of her ass in the tight dress that hugged her fit body.

The view became even greater when she bent over, reached under her dress and slowly pulled her panties down her thighs. She looked over her shoulder, watching your face as she stepped out of them. Briefly you wondered what it’d be to get a lap dance from her. An idea to hope for in the future maybe.

“You can take these with you when you leave,” Jennie winked.

She placed the panties on top of the desk before looking back at you. She hitched up her red dress, revealing her bare ass and exposed pussy to you. If it weren’t for the fact that all the blood had already left your head and gone to your cock, you might’ve fainted on the spot.

“Fuck…”

“Come on then. Come enjoy your gift,” she said. She wiggled her ass as she invited you to close the distance in the hallway and take her.

“Do I need a condom?” you fumbled.

Jennie laughed and shook her head, her hair sticking loosely to her already sweat-covered body, “Don’t worry about that.”

She didn’t have to say it twice. The thought left your mind and you closed the distance between her and yourself. One hand took hold of your cock, lining herself up at her dripping entrance. You paused for a beat, etching the visual into your memory banks as you finally slipped inside of her. To say you had fantasized about your sister's bandmates before would be an understatement. In that sense, this was a dream come true. But even those dreams couldn't compare to the real feeling of Jennie's tight walls squeezing around your cock.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," Jennie moaned, bracing herself with one hand against the wall.

Slowly you buried inch after inch inside of the pop star until your hips were flush against Jennie's ass. As much as you wanted to savor the moment, the desire to fuck your long-time crush was far more overwhelming. Jennie was clearly ready for you to start given the way she ground her ass against you, imploring you to start thrusting immediately. You obliged her, slipping your cock out before filling her to the hilt once again and again.

"Fucking hell," you grunted.

"That's it. Fuck me, Baby" Jennie urged, moans falling from her plump lips.

As you gained a rhythm she began to meet your thrusts with her own movements. Your hands moved to her waist, squeezing gripping her tight as you fucked her. It was hard enough to make sure that there would be marks there tomorrow morning but not enough to cause any discomfort. In fact, judging from the moans of encouragement Jennie let out, she didn't seem to have any complaints.

"Harder," she gasped.

"Yes ma'am."

Every time you entered her from behind it  resulted in her perfect ass smacking against you, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against each other. Jennie clawed against the wall as you pistoned your cock inside of her faster and faster, drawing out both of your pleasure. And it was good. Incredible even. Each thrust inside of Jennie was better than the last, far better than anything your imagination could have come up with. 

It was safe to say that the continued feeling of her pussy tightening around your cock far surpassed late nights with your own hand. The only problem was that you knew that it wouldn't last forever. That sooner rather than later you'd be emptying your balls inside of Jennie Kim. Or maybe she'd let you finish on her face.

"Fuck!" you gasped, cock twitching at the thought.

"Does it feel good, baby?" Jennie cast a glance over her shoulder. Her dark hair was sticking to her forehead, her cheeks flushed red, "You don't have to hold back for me. Let yourself go."

"Jennie-- " you warned, desperately.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Jennie's pussy, the desire to fuck her harder, and the looming inevitable release that was growing closer and closer with each thrust.

"I'm--Fuck. I'm going to--" you gasped.

You didn't have time to finish your sentence as Jennie slipped free of your grasp. Before you knew it she was on her knees in front of you, her mouth open and tongue sticking out as she stroked your cock furiously. One look at that sight and it was well and truly over. Your balls tightened, your pent up release spewing all over the pop idol's face. Your cock twitched in her grasp, ropes of your seed splattering her features. You had seen Jennie a lot over the years, but you had never witnessed her like this.

"Jesus christ..."

When it was all said and done you were exhausted and utterly spent. As your cock finally began to soften, Jennie ran a manicured finger over her face, scooping up a wad of your cum and sucking it clean off her fingers. When she looked up at you she seemed as satisfied as you felt.

"Congratulations again on graduating," Jennie said, a wicked smile on his lips. "I can't wait to see you when you come back for break."

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

[ekkkkey]

there will be games! (chapter IV)

summary: Cassandra, a quiet and loyal wife to the much older Senator Tiberius, accidentally attracts the unsettling attention of Emperor Caracalla at a lavish feast hosted by Senator Thraex...

warnings: 18+ minors dni, this is dark, noncon, dub-con, caracalla is a freak (he's cute tho), geta is mean too

word count: 4k

chapter I

chapter II

chapter III

«No woman could feel safe if her beauty or name aroused the emperor's curiosity.»

-Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars (Caligula, Chapter 36)

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

"Please, mistress, stay still," the slave murmured, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a finger, leaving behind a thin layer of ointment.

Cassandra lowered her eyes, as if the girl could somehow know how she had earned that wound. Perhaps she suspected. Perhaps she knew for certain—there had been enough witnesses to her disgrace.

She had almost forgotten what it was like to live without the emperor invading her thoughts. What had occupied her mind before Rome? Before all of this? Her family. Giving her husband a son, an heir. Becoming an honorable wife and mother, someone her father and sisters could be proud of.

Would they be proud now, if they knew the truth? Would they smile and nod, the way Antonia’s father had done before the crowd? What would they feel if they knew that the cruel, shameless emperor had begun haunting her dreams? And she—she had started turning away from her husband, recoiling at his touch. Everything reminded her of what she had endured. And the worst part? Her husband’s touch felt worse.

The games were supposed to continue today, but judging by the relentless downpour, they would likely be canceled again. The emperors would not take it well.

Tiberius paced the room, irritation evident in every step as he waited for the slaves to finish dressing her. He was growing more restless by the day, lost in his own thoughts, seemingly oblivious to her shattered state.

Once she was ready, his gaze softened.

Her husband pulled her close and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips.

A shudder ran through her at the thought that Emperor Caracalla would have surely enjoyed knowing that Tiberius was now kissing the very mouth he had defiled.

She had no idea where her husband was taking her, and her confusion only grew when they stepped into a grand chamber three times the size of their own. Only the most powerful could live in such luxury. Cassandra’s gaze landed on General Acacius, standing beside his wife, Lucilla. They were clearly expecting Tiberius—but not her, if the general’s surprised look was anything to go by.

Servants brought wine and delicacies, but Cassandra didn’t touch them. She sat stiffly, nervous, unsure why she was here. Tiberius and Acacius moved to the side, speaking in hushed tones. Lucilla, ever the gracious hostess, smiled warmly and made light conversation, filling the silence until the men returned.

"Tell him what they’ve done this time," Acacius said, quiet yet firm.

Lucilla met his gaze, then looked at Tiberius, then finally at Cassandra.

"They sent the Praetorians. They knew I wouldn’t come willingly," she said.

Cassandra didn’t need names. She already knew who she meant.

"And what did those madmen want now?"

"They wanted me to adopt them. To declare them my sons before the people of Rome," Lucilla said, lips curling in disgust. "Oh, Geta was upset when I declined. But Caracalla… he had another proposal. One I refuse to repeat."

"That insolent whelp!" Tiberius hissed, as if it were his own wife they had insulted.

She could feel her ears and cheeks burning. Lucilla had the strength to refuse, backed by her husband, the general, the shadow of her dead father—the emperor—and the love of the people. Cassandra had nothing. Her husband was her only shield, but he didn’t notice what was happening, and even if he had, there was little he could do about it.

"Their antics are getting worse every day! How much longer are we going to tolerate this?" her husband whispered again.

"Patience, my friend, patience. I’ll handle it," Acacius reassured him, and Tiberius relaxed, his tension easing.

No more was said about the emperors, but Cassandra sat there, as if on needles. What had they talked about? What were they planning? Unfortunately, the conversation shifted to something else and didn’t return to the same topic. She wasn’t allowed to interfere in such matters. Lucilla excused herself, citing business to attend to, and soon after, Tiberius commanded Cassandra to return to their quarters since there was no more company for her.

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

The palace was cold and empty. Morning had barely begun, and most noblemen were still asleep. Cassandra shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her bare shoulders and arms. There was no need to rush, so she walked slowly along the covered terrace, watching the rain.

One way or another, he would find her. As long as she remained in the palace, she would never be safe. The realization brought her an odd sense of calm. Let him do as he pleased.

"What business did General Acacius and his wife have that warranted your visit? Has something happened?"

That wasn’t Caracalla’s voice.

Cassandra turned to face the unexpected guest—Emperor Geta.

He looked even gloomier than usual today. Dressed in black and gold, with no laurel to soften his appearance, his face powdered white and his eyes rimmed in red, he resembled the harbinger of death more than an imperial ruler.

It was impossible to miss his anger. Geta, though trying to keep his composure, couldn’t hide it. His jaw clenched beneath his pale skin, and his lips were pressed into a tight line.

And his eyes—oh, those eyes. Exactly the kind that should belong to a herald of darkness—dark, vast, as though no light could reach beyond his irises. Not the transparent, innocent, deceptive blue ones.

"My husband is close to the general, and I enjoy Lucilla’s company. She is a decent woman," Cassandra answered calmly. She had nothing to hide.

"Oh yes, Lucilla," he said, his voice dropping, rougher now, his lips twisted. "My brother is captivated by her as well."

She remembered what Lucilla had said—how the emperors had asked her to adopt them. Remembered how they told her she looked like their mother. And how Caracalla had forced her to wear his mother’s robes. Even now, she stood there wearing his mother’s tunic, The cloak, the earrings, the bracelets, the rings—none of them were hers. And Geta knew that too.

Had his conversation with Lucilla upset him this much? Who else could cut an emperor so deep? Well—perhaps only another emperor.

"And you… you enchant him too, don’t you, little bird?"

His tongue darted out, wetting his pale lips—a nervous habit, perhaps. He stepped forward again, then again, until he was so close she could feel his breath. One more step, and they’d be too close.

"That’s what he calls you, isn’t it?"

Here’s no warmth from him, just coldness, like he’s made of marble. And he smells different, not sweet at all; she can clearly sense the familiar scent of powder, but the sharp herbal scent that lingers around him is unfamiliar.

Geta, despite his involvement in her torment, had always seemed distant to her, withdrawn, uninterested in the games his brother played. Or so she thought. Caracalla wanted something—Geta indulged him. That’s how it had been until yesterday evening, when one of the brothers had claimed something that wasn’t his.

"I’ve always been his," the emperor breathed. "I shared everything with him. Protected him. Stood by his side. I love him."

His thumb brushed the wound at the corner of her lips. He knew. He knew exactly who had done this to her.

"We forgive a lot when it comes to family—even when that family is insane. Don’t we?” His voice dropped lower, darker. “And this is how he repays me? With mockery?"

She didn’t understand, but his gaze darkened even further, his brows knitting together, aging his young face.

"I… I’m sorry that you and your brother are at odds…"

"At odds?" He let out a bitter, low laugh. "Oh, this isn’t a quarrel. But he knows better than anyone how to wound me."

A cold hand cupped her cheek, tilting her face up. He was taller than his brother, his hand was rougher.

"And your rejection wounded me, little bird. Am I so unappealing? Or do you simply prefer my brother?"

She barely stopped herself from pulling away. No, not this again. She had learned to endure Caracalla—but not both of them.

What twisted game was this for her attention? They could take her by force, anytime, anywhere. Caracalla already did. So why did Geta care whether she showed him favor?

"If he won’t share, I’ll take what I want myself."

And he did.

They were alike and yet so different. His touch may be cold, but his mouth is like his brother’s—greedy, hot. He was rougher. No smiles, no soft touches—his hand clamped down on her waist, tight enough to bruise. Teeth sank into her lower lip, then a hot tongue traced the same spot, creating a sharp contrast.

"He took you from your husband, now I’m taking you from him. What do you think?" he whispers into her mouth.

She didn’t want to answer. She wanted to pull away, to run. The sound of rain mixed with the pounding of her own heart. He looked different now. The powder was gone from his lips, and Cassandra could still taste it on her tongue after their kiss. His lips were red, full, and gave life to his pale face. He was handsome. In his own way. Caracalla was handsome too. But both of them were corrupted, debauched, greedy. What is she supposed to do?

"Please, don’t involve me in this! I beg you! I’ll be leaving soon, and you’ll never see me again, I promise!" she mumbled.

His eyes flickered with barely contained irritation.

"Do you beg my brother the same way? And what—he just lets you go?" A rough laugh escaped his lips.

Was this all about Caracalla? Does he really want to get under his brother’s skin this much?

Cassandra had three younger sisters—she had raised them after their mother died, fought with them, argued with them. But she had never wanted to truly hurt them.

But these two—twins. Co-rulers. The most powerful men in Rome. No one could wound them except each other.

A strong hand grabs hers once more, sliding the ring off her left hand’s fourth finger. Geta twisted the delicate band between his fingers—so simple, compared to the heavy signet rings adorning his own hand—before removing one from his pinky and replacing it with hers. Now, her fragile, tiny ring rested on his pinky.

"Now we’re bound, huh? The vein leads straight to the heart, right, little bird?" He seemed like himself again, the brooding crease gone, his eyes no longer angry. But still, he mocked her.

"The vein of love," they had told her and Tiberius when she married him, claiming it ran through the fourth finger and bound spouses together. Now she had neither love nor the ring—only a large gold signet with a blue stone.

"Now go, I’m no longer holding you," he said, swiping his tongue over his lips again, a half-smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, as if he’d done something wicked.

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

Not wanting to tempt fate, she nearly ran back to her chambers, rushing past the very spot where Caracalla had defiled her mouth just a day ago. Gods, this entire palace felt like nothing but a place of fear and shame. Now, she was terrified Caracalla might find out about today. Cassandra stopped herself. Since when did the opinion of another man matter more than her own husband’s? It was him she had betrayed. It was him she had been unfaithful to. Not Caracalla.

The thought of running to her father, or even confessing everything to her husband, Lucilla, or anyone else, spun through her mind again and again. She didn’t care anymore. If the Gods wouldn’t listen to her prayers, if they had abandoned her to be torn apart, what did she have left to lose?

This time, she was truly resolved. If Tiberius wouldn’t leave with her, she would ask for a divorce. She hadn’t given him an heir, she had dishonored him and his house by lying with another man. Let her reputation be ruined, let her be sent back to her father in disgrace, let her name be erased from the inheritance, but at least she would be free.

As she angrily packed the few things she had, her hands trembled and her thoughts raced. It was his fault. He swore to protect and honor her, yet he was so consumed by his own affairs that he still failed to see what everyone else already had. She didn’t belong to him anymore. She didn’t even belong to herself.

"What are you doing?" Hearing her husband’s voice, Cassandra didn’t turn around.

"I’m leaving, with or without you," the words finally escaped her lips, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her.

He didn’t answer immediately, but his heavy hand landed on her shoulder, forcing her to turn.

"Hit me, tie me up, do whatever you want. I can’t stay here anymore!"

To her surprise, Tiberius was calm, subdued. His hand gently stroked her cheek, and she immediately felt a wave of disgust at the bad memories.

"Please, just one night," he pleaded, his voice full of desperation. "Just one night, and I’ll lay Rome at your feet. If you want, you can go back to the villa, or to your father, but not now. Not today."

Cassandra didn’t love him. Right now, she even hated him, but her heart softened, and despite all her self-scolding, she had no choice but to agree. One last night.

"In the morning, l'm leaving," she said firmly.

She'd never been so resolute. When you have nothing left to lose, there's no fear.

That's what she thought.

The rest of the day, Cassandra stayed in her chambers, comforted by the thought that tomorrow everything would end.

No more games, no more emperors, no more palaces, no more humiliations.

Maybe she'd stay with her husband and give him a son after all, or maybe she'd ask for a divorce and return to her father, childless and unmarried, but with what little honor she had left.

She glared at Geta's signet ring with hatred. What if he hadn't claimed her today? Would she have endured her brother's debauchery until the end of the games? Probably.

A nervous laugh escaped her lips. So, should she thank him? She had just reached to pull the ring off when a sharp knock at the door made her freeze. Who could it be? Tiberius wouldn’t knock.

"Imperial Guard! Open up!" a voice commanded from the other side.

Night had long fallen. A visit at this hour could mean nothing good.

Still, she obeyed, schooling her face into something unreadable as she pulled the door open.

"Come with us, domina. You’re expected."

There was no room for argument; that much was clear.

Not wanting to be dragged through the halls like a criminal, Cassandra followed the Praetorians. But inside, panic twisted her stomach, her palms damp with sweat. This wasn’t just some summons. Something was happening. Something final.

She expected to be taken to Caracalla’s chambers—but no, they led her straight to the throne room. And when she saw her husband kneeling on the cold marble, with General Acacius and Lucilla standing nearby, surrounded by Praetorians, a terrible weight settled in her chest.

She wanted to run.

This wouldn’t end well.

Then she saw them. And she realised she probably wouldn’t survive the night. They weren’t thinking about her anymore—not their petty games, not their rivalry, and certainly not her body. Before her stood not bickering brothers, but emperors—furious, merciless, ready to pass judgment.

They didn’t even look like themselves. Both had clearly been dragged from their beds. Geta was wrapped in a red silk robe, barefoot, without his usual powdered face. He looked young—almost boyish—with his trembling lips and restless movements.

And Caracalla… to meet Caracalla’s eyes now was to court death. She couldn’t tell who he hated more—her or the ones who had betrayed them. Though, the difference was probably negligible.

The emperor is vulnerable. Cassandra watches as he pulls the sheet tighter around himself, stripped of his makeup and fine clothes—young, looking almost innocent, just like his brother. He’s irritated, uncomfortable that she’s seeing him like this, his lips, red even without paint, twisting in displeasure. She almost let out a nervous laugh, but there was no room for laughter now.

Pretorians shoved her to her knees next to her husband, doing it roughly, without any care. Acacius and Lucilla have already been dragged from the throne room—their sentence has been passed, judging by the rage still burning in the emperors' eyes. Now it’s their turn.

"Our general! The Senate! All of them—traitors, liars!" Geta paces back and forth, clutching the fabric of his robe against his pale body. His voice trembles, breaking into something close to hysteria.

Through the sting of tears, she barely saw him. Just a red blur, darting back and forth.

"I gave you everything! I pulled you out of that wretched hole you called home! I gave you a position, a roof over your head—my friendship!" His voice cracked. "And this is how you repay me? With betrayal?"

"What do I need your friendship for, boy?" Tiberius' voice was like ice. "You and your brother are insane. If you think I’m the last, you’re wrong. Others will come. They will betray you again and again, until you’re both dead."

Cassandra’s stomach dropped.

Silence, gods, silence him!

If he stopped now, maybe their deaths would be quick. Maybe it wouldn’t be so painful. But as she looked up, she knew—it was too late.

Geta had gone deathly pale, his face frozen in pure, seething rage. Only his eyes burned, black as coal.

"You'll be crucified like the worthless filth you are, and your name will be forgotten!" he spat. "You and your wife will feel our wrath in full."

For the first time since the praetorians had brought her in, Cassandra was mentioned, but Geta didn't even glance at her, unleashing his fury on Tiberius instead. But Caracalla was watching her.

She could feel his gaze like a physical weight. Cold, hateful-he wasn't playful anymore, not even trying to force a smile. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his light brows were furrowed. For the first time, the emperor seemed fully human, wrapped in a white sheet, sitting on one of the golden thrones.

"She didn't know anything. There's no need to kill her," her husband interjected, clearly making things worse.

At his words, Caracalla suddenly erupted in high-pitched laughter, clapping his hands. He stood up, and Cassandra instinctively shrank back, wanting to vanish. A long sword fell from his lap, one he didn’t even bother to pick up. The sound of his bare feet was oddly loud. She didn’t dare raise her gaze, fully convinced that he would kill her right then and there. His little pet wasn’t what he had expected, and the games needed to stop.

"Didn’t know anything," he drawled. "Poor, innocent girl, huh?" He stopped right in front of her, forcing her to lift her head, painfully grabbing her chin, squeezing.

"Leave her alone!" Her husband’s words no longer mattered. Both emperors could see that he didn’t regret his betrayal and was ready for death, but… but she wasn’t part of his plan. It seemed he truly cared for her.

Geta seemed calmer now, though he still nervously snapped his fingers. Following his brother, he moved closer, looking directly at her for the first time. Not breaking eye contact, he spoke:

"Macrinus, when did you learn of the conspiracy?" He addressed someone behind her.

"The day you were attacked in the Colosseum, Emperor," a voice behind her replied. "After we left the box, Senator Thraex kindly told me. That same day, the traitors plotted the conspiracy."

Geta and Caracalla’s lips curled into synchronized, sinister smiles.

"Lucilla and your wife, it seems, were close, yes?" Geta began, dripping with false sweetness.

"She didn’t know anything, stop this game!"

"And why should we believe the words of a fucking traitor, hmm?" The usual Caracalla seemed to be back, playfully twisting her head from side to side, still squeezing her chin painfully. The last time she had knelt before him, it hadn’t ended well. Her cheeks flushed, and her heart pounded in fear.

Nothing could escape his gaze; his eyes, black from dilated pupils, immediately locked onto her face, examining, scrutinizing, reading every emotion. His lips stretched into a grin, revealing a gold tooth. Even naked, wrapped only in a sheet, he was tied to gold.

"But let’s ask our esteemed Roman matron, we’re not tyrants after all, right, brother?" Geta's chuckle served as his answer. No one in the room believed those words. "Where were you when your husband was plotting against us? Where were you after the games?"

He knew the answer. And so did she. Her neck, cheeks, and ears flushed with color. Tiberius had remained proud and defiant to the end, and they had decided to play a different game. Judging by the dilated pupils and smug grins on their faces, everything had taken a turn they both enjoyed. They would destroy her husband's spirit, then hers, and then kill them both.

"With you, Caesar," she replied obediently, knowing silence would only make things worse. She had been told this countless times by the emperors themselves.

Tiberius immediately turned at her words, looking at her with his lips pressed tight. She hadn’t said anything terrible yet, but…

"You know, my brother can be so forgetful at times," Geta's tone took on a softness, a slyness akin to Caracalla's. Now they were bound by shared hatred, a common penchant for sadism, and the desire to destroy them. "Could you remind him what that meeting was about?"

"Caesar, I..." she couldn't say it. She couldn't say anything at all. Tears silently streamed down her cheeks. The last humiliation remained, and then it would all be over. Suddenly, she felt a bit of relief. They couldn't reach her once she was dead.

"Speak, girl," Caracalla's thumb slid across her mouth, tracing its outline harshly, roughly, anything but tenderly, "or you'll lose your little tongue and won't be able to defend yourself."

"I was with Emperor Caracalla. One of the slave girls saw us. After the games... We were at the altar, and..."

Yet, the words wouldn't come; she just couldn't voice the filth they expected from her, not while Tiberius looked at her with such disappointment in his eyes.

"Oh, how I love that even after everything that's happened between us, the little bird is still so pure," Caracalla burst out laughing, releasing her face. "I remember and will answer for her. I fucked her on my father's ashes, and because of that, she will live. Once again, the emperor has been too merciful, hasn't he, Senator?"

Live? She felt sick. She didn’t want to live. Not now, when the disgust in her husband’s eyes was so palpable. Ashamed, she turned away, sobbing.

"What, little bird? Did you truly believe you could get rid of me so easily? Your emperor?" His hand stroked her hair, soothing her as if she were an untamed animal. "No," he drawled, "you’re not capable of such a thing. You could have ended me, not once and not twice—bit off my cock, after all," and again, that hysterical laughter escaped him, his gaze fixed on her husband. Caracalla wanted to ensure Tiberius truly understood his words, "but no, you obediently took it, as you should."

She will never have it her way; he'll never let her simply leave or die, he'll keep playing until the very end.

"And yet," Geta began, "she deserves punishment, doesn't she?"

Cassandra lifted her tear-stained face to him. Why? Why was he partaking in this? Was it her refusal that offended him, or was it simpler, that he, like his brother, just enjoyed tormenting her?

"An unfaithful wife," Caracalla mused, tapping his finger against his lips as if her trial were happening right then in front of all Rome’s esteemed citizens. Only, there were no esteemed citizens here. "What a heinous crime!" He gasped theatrically, covered his mouth in mock horror. "Tiberius, you were faithful to your wife, weren’t you? I believe you were, but your sweet young wife, she was not so loyal. And if I, an honorable man unburdened by the chains of marriage, can partake in such acts, then, by the gods, what was she thinking?"

She wanted to sink into the ground—or maybe charge at the emperor, and then they’d kill her right there, so she wouldn’t have to endure these humiliating speeches anymore. But Cassandra didn’t move; she didn’t have the courage. Humiliated and cowardly, she stayed on her knees, arms wrapped around herself in a pitiful attempt to find some comfort. Tiberius didn’t even look at her. He stared straight ahead, unblinking, focused on where Caracalla was caricaturing a trial.

"Women are inherently corrupt, you know," Geta joined in. "'Chaste is she whom no one has coveted' isn’t that right?"

In the torch-lit darkness of the hall, their hair seemed to burn against their pale skin. Both had dark, piercing eyes, still furious over the betrayal, yet satisfied with their petty revenge. Cassandra watched as they exchanged looks, their smiles perfectly synchronized. Caracalla’s grin only grew wider at his brother’s words. There they were, the very embodiment of vice, pride, and wrath.

How can he say such things? How dare he speak as if she wanted all the terrible things the emperor did to her!? Was he blaming her? She looked at her husband desperately, but he seemed to share the emperor’s view, his lips tight, his Adam’s apple bobbing under his pale skin.

Oh, they had gotten what they wanted—he was enraged, furious! And all because of her. Was she really to blame for everything? Maybe it was the way she looked at the emperor, maybe she’d allowed too much, given the slightest hint? Her heart pounded so violently, it felt like it might shatter her ribs.

"But don’t worry, Tiberius, I’ll punish her as she deserves," the mockery and the insinuation so obvious it made her want to scream. "After your death, of course, but if you ask nicely, I'll show you how to handle women so they don't betray they vows, right now."

He leaned slightly toward her, his hot hand on her neck, his thumb pressing into the hollow between her collarbones, making her gasp and cough.

"Wouldn't a golden collar look exquisite on this little neck, hm? For the next games, I'll take you with me," his whisper burned her ear. "Naked."

Cassandra recoiled, bracing her hands against her knees, her head dropping. He was insane. The feverish gleam in his eyes, his flushed cheekbones, the way he bit his lower lip, his heavier breathing-all of it terrified her. He wasn't a mere sadist; he was completely out of his mind.

It seemed that even his brother found his words too deranged this time.

"She’ll be judged as she should be. The Senate… or what’s left of it, and we, of course, will pass a sentence fitting her crime."

"But I want her for myself!" Caracalla’s voice turned bitter, low with anger. How dare his brother forbid him anything!

"This won’t do. She’s still the daughter of a powerful man, and how do you think the Senate will react? Will you take their wives too?"

"I’ll take them if I wish!" Caracalla snapped petulantly, his playful mood shifting to fury.

It seemed they were about to clash, to fight right in front of them. Gods, her life was hanging by a thread, and they were acting like spoiled children! How insignificant she must be in their eyes.

And yet, the fight never came. In a gesture of reconciliation, Geta pulled his brother into an embrace, his arms settling around his delicate shoulders. Leaning in, he whispered something into his ear. Cassandra caught his gaze and knew at once—he was speaking of her. Caracalla smiled again.

At Geta’s command, she was taken away. No one spoke to her after that.

Tiberius remained in the hall. She knew she would never see him again. One last time, she turned to look at her husband, hoping to catch his eye, but he never looked back.

To him, she was already dead.

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

Hey friends! The next chapter will be a short one, but it’s coming out tomorrow! Honestly, I didn’t think anyone would like my work since I love dark and tragic stories, and they’re usually not very popular. So I’m really grateful for all the kind words—it truly inspires me! 💋