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pucksandpower · 8 months

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Fit for a Queen

Stand-alone Charles Leclerc x Reader / Lewis Hamilton x Reader / Toto Wolff x Reader / Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: all the ways that you partner loves to spoil you (a compilation of unrelated stories)

Charles Leclerc: His and Hers

You’re parked by the side of a winding road, smoke pouring out from the hood of your old car. As you curse the bad timing, your phone lights up. It’s a call from your boyfriend.

“Hey mon ange, I saw on the tracker that you’ve stopped. Everything alright?”

You sigh, “Not really. My car has decided to give up on life. I’m stranded.”

There’s a brief pause. “Where are you?”

“I was driving back from that little cafe we love in Nice.”

“I’m on my way. Wait for me,” Charles says and before you can protest the line goes dead.

True to his word, in less than twenty minutes, a sleek black Ferrari pulls up in front of you. The window rolls down to reveal Charles’ concerned face. “Need a ride?” He teases.

You laugh, your worries momentarily forgotten. “Always showing off, aren’t you?”

He grins, “Get in.”

Over the next few days, he insists you borrow his Ferrari. “It suits you,” he often remarks with a wink. Every morning, you’re met with the thrill of driving that beast, the roar of the engine, the luxury of the leather seats, the admiring and envious looks from strangers.

It’s heady.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you return home to find Charles waiting for you in the garage. Parked next to his car is a red Ferrari 488 Pista, a striking stripe in the colors of your home country’s flag running down the middle.

“What’s this?” You ask, your heart racing.

“For you,” he replies with a smile. “Figured you needed an upgrade.”

You’re stunned. “Charles ... this is too much.”

He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Nothing is too much for you. I love seeing the way your eyes light up when you drive. I wanted to give you that every day.”

Your eyes tear up, overwhelmed. “Thank you, mon amour.”

He pulls you in, his lips capturing yours as he presses you against the Ferrari. “How about we take it for a spin?” He murmurs against your lips. “And maybe ... christen the new car?”

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you nod in agreement, “I can think of a few ways to show you how much I appreciate the gift.”

Lewis Hamilton: Knight in Shining Armor

“What do you mean they’re foreclosing?” Your voice trembles as you pace the living room of your boyfriend’s penthouse.

“I’m so sorry, my darling. We tried to keep up with the payments but after your father’s medical bills ... it just became too much.” Your mother’s voice is heavy with guilt and despair.

Tears sting your eyes. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.” You end the call, sliding down the wall to sit on the marble floor, overwhelmed.

A discreet cough interrupts your thoughts and you glance up to find Lewis standing in the doorway, looking concerned. You didn’t even see him come in. How much did he hear?

“Babe, are you okay?” He asks softly, approaching you.

You wipe away your tears, attempting to put on a brave face. “It’s just family stuff. I’ll handle it.”

Lewis crouches down in front of you, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. “Talk to me.”

Taking a deep breath, you explain, “My family’s house ... the bank is foreclosing on it. It’s the home I grew up in, Lew. All those memories ...”

He pulls you into his arms as you break down again despite your best efforts, “I’m so sorry.”

A few days pass and you’re doing your best to focus on finding a solution when Lewis calls you into his office. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlook Port Hercules but you barely notice, still lost in your churning thoughts. A series of documents are spread out on the desk.

“What’s all this?” You ask, curiosity piqued.

“Just take a look,” Lewis urges with a gentle smile.

You start reading and realization hits. The paperwork states that the mortgage on your family’s home has been fully paid off. You look up at Lewis, incredulous. “Did you ...”

He shrugs modestly, “I overheard your phone call. How could I not help? That house means the world to you. And all it took was a few phone calls to make sure your family could keep it.”

You’re speechless, tears of gratitude spilling over. “Lew, this is ... I can’t believe you did this for me.”

He reaches out, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “I love spoiling you but it’s not just about luxury trips or designer clothes. It’s about making sure you and your family are safe and happy. Knowing I’m the reason for the smile on your face … that’s the best gift I could ever ask for in return.”

You hug him tight, overwhelmed by his gesture, and bury your face in his neck. “Thank you. This means more than words can express.”

He kisses your forehead. “Anything for you, love.”

Toto Wolff: Still Bejeweled

The ornate chandeliers of the luxurious Parisian boutique cast reflections from the exquisite jewelry on display. Toto’s hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you peruse the selection, clearly lost in the artistry of each piece.

“That will look stunning on you,” Toto observes as you admire a necklace with delicate diamonds cascading down, each gleaming brighter than the last.

You laugh, “I haven’t even tried it on yet.”

His confident smirk remains. “Doesn’t matter. I can tell.”

On impulse, you ask the sales associate to let you try it on. As it settles around your neck, you can’t help but be mesmerized by its beauty.

Toto steps closer, appreciating the way it lays against your skin. “It’s perfect. Let’s take it.”

You feel a flutter of excitement but reality sets in. “How much is it?”

Toto immediately interjects, “It doesn't matter, we’ll—”

“€290,000. From the Pluie de Cartier collection,” the sales associate replies with a practiced smile.

Your heart sinks. It’s astronomical. You gently take the necklace off. “It’s beautiful but not for me.”

Toto looks at you, eyes filled with an earnest plea. “Let me get it for you.”

You shake your head firmly, “No, Toto. It’s too way much.”

He sighs, a mix of frustration and understanding. “You’re worth every penny and more.”

You smile, touched by his words. “I appreciate it but I’m just not comfortable with you spending that much money on me.”

He nods, respecting your wishes, but the disappointment in his eyes is evident. After browsing a bit more, the two of you make your way out of the store, the necklace you both fell in love with left behind.

Life with Toto is a whirlwind of races, galas, and stolen intimate moments. The necklace, though unforgettable, fades to the back of your mind.

One evening, after a particularly lovely dinner, Toto guides you to the master bedroom you both share. The city lights outside cast a gentle glow and at the foot of your bed is a small red box.

Curious, you open the embellished leather to find the same necklace you had admired weeks ago. Tears spring to your eyes as you spin around to face your partner.

“You didn’t …”

Toto kneels before you as your shaky legs collapse backwards to sit on the bed. “I know you said you didn’t want it. But every time I saw it, I imagined it on you. I saw the glimmer in your eyes when you tried it on. It’s where it belongs.”

You shiver as he takes the necklace from your hands and gently puts it around your neck, his fingers tracing your skin as he locks the clasps together. “Toto, I ... thank you.”

He smiles, placing a tender kiss on your lips. “I just want you to have everything your heart desires.”

You lean into his embrace, the feeling of truly being cherished sending warmth through your whole body. “I already do.”

Max Verstappen: Jet Setters

You’re reclined on the couch, leafing through a magazine with one hand while petting Sassy with the other, when a sudden craving strikes. That gelato from Milan, the one you have whenever you are there with Max for the Italian Grand Prix. The mere thought has your mouth watering.

Seeing your restless expression, Max puts down his tablet and raises an eyebrow. “You alright, schatje?”

You sigh dramatically, cradling your pregnant belly. “I’m craving that gelato we had in Milan. Nothing else will do.”

He chuckles, “Are you serious?”

You nod, trying to suppress a smile. “Very.”

Without missing a beat, Max picks up his phone. “Alright. Milan it is, then.”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking, but within hours, you’re aboard a private jet, Milan-bound. The luxurious interior, plush seats, and array of gourmet snacks would be the highlight for most but your mind is firmly stuck on that gelato.

As the jet descends, the sprawling Lombard countryside greets you. Max holds your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. “Anything for my girls,” he promises, placing a kiss on your forehead and then your belly.

The car waiting for you outside speeds through the crowded streets, bringing you to the familiar storefront in Centro Storico. The owner, recognizing you both, greets you with a wide smile and hands over multiple coolers filled with your favorite flavor that Max called ahead for.

Back on the jet, Milan a fading dot in the distance, you sit contentedly savoring each spoonful as Max watches with a tender smile on his face.

“You could have had any gelato in the world and you chose this one,” he teases.

You grin, “Just like I chose you.”

He leans in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “And I would fly with you to the ends of the earth just to keep that smile on your face.”

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night-raven-tattler · 5 months

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What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

Characters: Octavinelle dorm (Azul, Jade, Floyd) × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Azul's ideal type would be...

Someone witty. Azul is a smart guy who likes being entertained. While his way of achieving that is less... for lack of better words, aggressive than the tweels', he enjoys a good mental game. If you can carry a good conversation with him, he'll remember you.

Someone who doesn't pressure him into making decisions. He is someone whose independence is very important to him. On top of that, his signature spell literally revolves around choice as a concept, so he understand the importance of it. Someone as stubborn as Azul will keep his distance if anyone tries to influence his free will.

Someone who appreciates music. He's a pianist and a good singer, which are skills that require a lot of practice and hard work, something Azul is known for. He will appreciate any genuine praise, but if you ask him to teach you more about music or, Sevens forbid, you want to duet with him, all of his three hearts are yours.

Someone who doesn't mock him, not even when teasing him. If you really know Azul, you know how bitter he is towards the people who have brought suffering onto him. The words they said are ingrained into his brain, controlling his choices for years after they were spoken to him. I'm not saying to constantly uplift him, but bringing up old wounds will only push Azul away with low chances of getting any closer again.

『••✎••』

Jade's ideal type would be...

Someone whose next move he can't accurately predict. It's kind of easy to catch the attention of any of the tweels, but it's also easy to lose it. The key to keeping Jade's eyes on you is to make him believe he's had you all figured out, then do something unexpected. Being a little unpredictable, even when you think you're outside of Jade's vision, will pique his curiosity.

Someone who plays along his little tricks and schemes. Jade is not an honest person: he always has some ulterior motive, hidden behind carefully worded questions and statements that he uses to poke and prod for information. If you try to help him and his twisted game of detective, he will certainly find you amusing, if not helpful.

Someone who goes exploring with him. Just like his brother, Jade has a fascination for the land above water, and he loves learning things about the fauna and flora. Someone who understands his appreciation for nature and genuinely embraces his curiosity will have a bit more of his appreciation.

Someone who doesn't try to understand him. Jade is very careful not to reveal too much about himself. Being awfully private with himself, he won't open up to just anyone. So he will appreciate someone who doesn't try to pry into his business too much. At the end of the day, Jade can be many things: a bartender, a vice housewarden, an informant, but he'd like to be seen as "just Jade" sometimes.

『••✎••』

Floyd's ideal type would be...

Someone who isn't intimidated by him. It's a surefire way to catch his attention. Even if you just pretend to not be intimidated by him, he'll stick around and try to push all of your buttons, test your limits, squeeze all that he finds interesting out of you.

Someone willing to teach him more about land folks. Everyone knows that Floyd has quite the interest about land folks and their customs. He wants to know more, so don't be afraid to throw random land people things towards him every once in a while. If it's something he didn't know about, he'll tell you to prove it. Congrats, he won't leave your side for a couple of hours.

Someone who doesn't compare him to Jade. Since he's the more polite and responsible one, Floyd gets compared to his brother pretty often, and some people even assume he's the younger twin. It is exhausting to have his other half be given as example on how to behave time and time again. If you reassure him he doesn't have to be like his twin, that being Floyd is just fine, it'll pull at his heartstrings.

Someone who takes his mood swings in stride. From people thinking he is a threat to people who just find him annoying and hard to work with, no one really takes Floyd's mood swings seriously. That doesn't mean he'll open up if you asked him "are you okay" and "what happened". Still, it would be the first time someone outside of his family reacted like that to him. It will baffle him, in a good way.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

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elia-the-bibliophile · 28 days

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Diamond of the First Water (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff

Formula 1 meets the whispers of high society gossip. A crossover you never know you needed😉

Max Verstappen’s relationship with a talented actress, Y/N, takes a rough turn when she lands the role of Daphne Bridgerton opposite a charismatic co-star. Jealousy and insecurity grip Max as he struggles to cope with his feelings. Will their love survive the fast-paced drama of both the racetrack and the Regency era London set of "Bridgerton"?

Max sits on the couch, his laptop open in front of him. He clicks play on the latest promo for the Bridgerton series, his eyes fixed intently on the screen.

As the scenes unfold, showcasing the undeniable chemistry between you, his girlfriend of 3 years and Regé-Jean Page, Max's jaw tightens slightly. He can't deny the pang of jealousy that twists in his chest as he watches their on-screen romance unfold, where you starred as Daphne Bridgerton.

"Looks like you and Regé are hitting it off," he said with a scoff, his eyes narrowing as he watches the scenes play out. Despite his attempt at nonchalance, insecurity lingers.

With each new promo snippet, Max finds himself drawn deeper into the story. He watches as you and Regé-Jean share intimate moments, his heart clenching with a weird mixture of both pride and jealousy.

Max's finger hovers over the mousepad, hesitating for a moment before clicking on a short clip that has sent the internet into a frenzy. The iconic scene plays out on the screen, showcasing Regé-Jean as he delivers the unforgettable line, "I burn for you."

As the scene unfolds, Max's breath catches in his throat, his eyes widening slightly at the intensity of the moment. He can feel his heart rate quicken as he watches the raw emotion in Y/N's eyes, her performance bringing the character of Daphne to life in a way that captivates audiences around the world and he can see why.

Another round of jealousy flares within him as he realizes the impact of the scene, knowing that millions of viewers are falling under the spell of his girlfriend's on-screen chemistry with the newest heartthrob. "Quite the scene," he murmurs to himself, possessiveness coloring his words. Despite the swirling emotions within him, Max can't tear his eyes away from the screen, captivated by the power of the performance and the undeniable magnetism of the world building. People might not would’ve guessed that the Max Verstappen loves a good period drama.

_________________________________________

The next day, Max is in the middle of a training session when his phone buzzes with a text from Charles, and he glances down to see a link. Curiosity piqued, he opens it and finds himself directed to a recent interview featuring of course, Regé-Jean Page.

"So, Regé, let's get down to the important questions, shall we? We've heard rumors swirling around the set of Bridgerton about a certain someone catching your eye. Care to set the record straight?"

Regé chuckles, voice smooth as honey, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, I see you've been talking to the gossip columnists. Well, I'm afraid I can neither confirm nor deny anything at this time."

“Oh, playing it coy, are we? But seriously, the world is dying to know – who is your celebrity crush?"

His smile widens, and he leans back in his chair, considering the question with mock seriousness. "Well, you know, there are plenty of beautiful and talented people out there in the world of entertainment. But if I had to choose just one, I suppose I'd have to say... Y/N."

The interviewer raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Y/N? As in the leading lady of Bridgerton herself?"

Regé nods, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Guilty as charged. What can I say? You cannot play a role alongside her and not fall in love. It's just impossible."

The interviewer chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "Well, I'm sure Y/N will be thrilled to hear that. And who knows? Maybe there's a real-life love story brewing behind the scenes of Bridgerton."

Regé laughs, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “I couldn't possibly comment on that. But I will say this – working with Y/N has been an absolute joy, both on and off screen."

Max's hand clenches as he watches the interview, the weight of Regé’s words settling heavily on his shoulders. Despite the playful tone of the interview, there's a sincerity in his declaration that sends envy coursing through Max's veins.

He closes his eyes briefly, trying to push down the feelings of insecurity. But try as he might, he can't shake the nagging fear that Regé’s words hold a kernel of truth, that perhaps his girlfriend's on-screen chemistry has spilled over into something more.

With a heavy sigh, Max pockets his phone and returns his focus to his training, the weight of the interview lingering in the back of his mind like a shadow he can't shake.

_________________________________________

After a grueling session, Max emerges from the track, his muscles tense and his mind still buzzing with the weight of the interview. As he heads towards the paddock, he spots Charles leaning against the wall, sipping a cold drink.

"Hey, Max.”

Max grunts in response, his thoughts still somewhere else.

Charles arches an eyebrow, noticing Max's preoccupied demeanor, “Everything alright, mate? You seem a bit... off."

Max hesitates for a moment before deciding to confide in his fellow driver, "Yeah, just... had a bit of a run-in with the gossip mill today."

Charles let out an amused laugh, "Ah, you’ve catched that interview with Regé-Jean Page then?”

Max's eyes narrow slightly as he regards Charles, Charles chuckles, his grin growing wider, “Seems like he's really into her, huh? For someone who's supposedly just doing it for promo," he said with a shrug.

Max pauses in his tracks, Charles's words echoing in his mind. He turns back to face the Monégasque, a crease forming between his brows, “You think so?"

Charles nods, his expression thoughtful, “Yeah, I mean, sure, it's all part of the promo game, but there was something in the way he said it... seemed pretty genuine to me."

Max's lips thin into a line as he considers Charles's observation. Despite his initial dismissal of Regé’s declaration, a part of him can't shake the nagging feeling that there might be more to it than just publicity, "I guess we'll never know for sure."

Charles claps Max on the shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile, "Don't let it get to you, mate. At the end of the day, you know where you stand with Y/N. And if Regé wants to play the celebrity crush game, well, that's his prerogative. You're the one she comes home to."

Max nods, a sense of resolve settling over him. He may not be able to control the rumors swirling around Bridgerton, but he can control how he reacts to them, "Thanks, Charles. I needed to hear that."

With a nod of appreciation, Max turns and continues on his way, the weight of Charles's words giving him a newfound sense of clarity. Whatever may come, he knows that his relationship with Y/N is built on a foundation of trust and love, and nothing – not even a charming actor and a flurry of gossip – can shake that.

_________________________________________

On his way home, Max decided to shoot you a quick text, “Hey schatje, how’s your day going?”

Y/N response came in seconds with a picture of you and Regé, “Hi baby, I’m out for coffee right now with Regé, he says hello to you”

Max's heart skips a beat as he reads Y/N's response, a surge of mixed emotions washing over him. But he takes a deep breath, pushing those feelings aside as he forces himself to respond, “Coffee with Regé, huh? Tell him I said hello back."

Despite the weight on his chest, Max forces a smile as he hits send, trying to push aside his insecurities and trust in the strength of his relationship with you. But as he waits for her reply, the image of Y/N and Regé together lingers in his mind, further fueling the flames of his unease.

Max's fingers hover over his phone, hesitating for a moment before he types out his next message, “What time do you think you'll be home, schat?”

When the ‘ping’ finally comes, it's like a weight being lifted from his shoulders, but it's quickly replaced with a sense of resignation. “It'll be late darling, so don't wait up."

Max's jaw tightens as he reads the message. He knows he shouldn't let his insecurities get the best of him, but the image of Y/N and Regé together won’t go away. His minds pulling all sorts of mean tricks on him.

With a heavy sigh, Max sets his phone down on the passenger seat beside him, the glow of the screen casting a faint light in the dimly lit car. The quiet hum of the engine fills the air as he drives through the empty streets, the silence broken only by the occasional sound of passing cars.

As he navigates the familiar route home, Max's mind is consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The image of Y/N and Regé replays in his mind like a broken record. He even think about slapping himself, hard, to clear his mind.

And as he finally pulls into the driveway of their apartment, he can't help but feel a sense of loneliness settle over him, longing for the comfort and reassurance that only your presence can bring. And there’s not much of that these days.

_________________________________________

The next day, as Max arrives at the track, he finds Charles and Carlos waiting for him near the paddock, wearing matching mischievous grins, “Max! We thought we'd grab lunch together today. What do you say?" Charles asked.

Max's eyebrows furrow in surprise at the unexpected invitation, but he can't help but feel a flicker of gratitude at the gesture. “Sure, sounds good. Thanks, guys."

As they head to the nearby café, Charles and Carlos make a team effort to keep the mood light, peppering the conversation with jokes and anecdotes from past races.

"So, Max,” Carlos starts, “Heard you've been spending a lot of time with Netflix lately. Regé giving you a run for your money?"

Max chuckles, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “Yeah, something like that. It's a whole new world for me, y’know? Used to dating models and them doing quick photoshoots. Now, it's all about the long hours on set and endless promo tours."

Charles raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye, “Ah, so you're not used to your girlfriend spending more time with her co-star than with you?"

“Hey, watch it, mate. I'm not about to let some actor steal my girl.”

Carlos laughs, shaking his head in amusement, “Well, if Regé ever gets too cozy with Y/N, just let us know. We'll take care of it on the racetrack."

_________________________________________

That night, as you walked through the door, your heart swelled with anticipation of finally spending quality time with Max after a long while on set. However, instead of the warm embrace you were expecting, you were met with a cold silence. Max was sitting on the kitchen table, his expression unreadable.

Confusion etched across your features, you approached him cautiously, “Darling, is everything okay?"

He looked up, his gaze piercing, "Are you into him, huh?" He spat out, his words might as well have been laced venom.

Your heart sank, confusion flickering in your eyes, "What? Max, no, of course not," you replied softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising emotions.

Max's jealousy bubbling to the surface, “I see the way you look at him, the chemistry between you two on set. It's like you forgot you have a boyfriend waiting for you back home.”

You knelt down in front of him, reaching out to gently cup his face, willing him to understand. "Max, surely you can’t think this. You're the one I love, the one I want to be with. But acting is just that—acting. It's not real."

Max angrily brushed you off as you tried to reason with him, his frustration palpable in every movement. Ignoring your pleas, he stalked towards you until you were backed against the wall, his eyes blazing with jealousy.

"Do you like it when he kisses you?" he demanded, his voice harsh and accusing. "Is he a better kisser than I am, schat?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt the weight of his anger bearing down on you. Swallowing hard, you met his gaze with a mix of defiance. "No, Max," you replied firmly, refusing to let his words break you. "He's not and that doesn’t even matter.”

His grip tightened on your shoulders, his expression torn between anger and vulnerability. "Then why do I feel like I'm losing you?" he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

You reached up to cup his face, the warmth of your touch a stark contrast to his simmering rage. "You're not losing me, Max," you reassured him, your voice soft but unwavering. "I'm right here."

For a moment, he seemed to waver, his resolve crumbling in the face of your unwavering love. And then, with a heavy sigh, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he murmured against your skin. "I just... I can't bear the thought of losing you. Watching all those clips drove me insane.”

You held him close, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away. "You won't lose me, Max," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. "You know I’m yours, my love, and have always been yours.”

Max leaned back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of the truth. "Do you think he likes you for real?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Because it certainly seems that way."

You shook your head, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Max, it’s just acting. Regé is a professional, and so am I."

He studied your face intently, as if trying to decipher the truth hidden within your words. "But the way he looks at you..." he trailed off, unable to voice the insecurity that gnawed at him.

You reached up to gently cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Max Emilian, look at me," you urged softly. "You're the only one I want. I chose you, and I'll keep choosing you every single day."

A flicker of doubt crossed his features before he finally nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I let my jealousy get the best of me."

You smiled tenderly, pressing a kiss to his lips. "It's okay, baby. We all have our moments. What matters is that we work through them together."

Feeling the tension ease between you, you gently took Max's hand and kiss the back of it, offering him a reassuring smile. "You know, if you're feeling uneasy, you could always come to set and see for yourself," you suggested. "I'd love to introduce you to Regé."

Max's expression softened at your offer, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Really? You'd be okay with that?"

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently. "Of course. I want you to feel secure in our relationship, Max. And I want you to see firsthand that there's nothing going on between me and him. We’re just friends.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Max's lips as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "Thank you, liefje. That means a lot to me."

Laughing softly, you playfully teased Max, "Come here, you big baby," before pulling him close.

As your lips met in a sweet kiss, the tension of the moment melted away. As if it’s never been there on the first place.

_________________________________________

Max finally secured a week off from his demanding training schedule, and Y/N couldn't wait to share her world with him. As he often whisked her to every Grand Prix, but he has never been to any of her filming set.

As Max stepped onto the sprawling set of "Bridgerton," his eyes widened in awe at the bustling activity around him. Towering structures resembling the grandeur of Regency-era London loomed in the distance, while a flurry of costumed actors and crew members darted about, bringing the world of the early 1800s to life.

Y/N grinned beside him, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she led him deeper into the heart of the set. "Welcome to the world of Bridgerton," she said, her voice dripping with pride.

Max couldn't help but marvel at the meticulous attention to detail evident in every corner of the set. From the ornate costumes to the elaborate set pieces, it was as though he had been transported back in time.

"This is incredible," Max breathed, doing a 360 degree turn to take in the sights around him.

Y/N squeezed his hand affectionately. "I'm glad you think so. It's been such an amazing experience being a part of this production."

As they wandered through the bustling set, Y/N introduced Max to her co-stars and fellow crew members, each interaction filled with warmth.

And finally, “Max, this is Regé," Y/N said, gesturing to a dashing man in period attire. "He plays Simon Basset, the Duke of Hastings."

Regé extended his hand with a friendly smile. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Max. Y/N's been telling us all about you."

Max shook his hand, feeling a pang of jealousy despite himself. "Likewise," he replied, forcing a tight smile.

Throughout the day, Max watched in fascination as scenes were meticulously rehearsed and filmed, the air alive with creativity and passion. And as he witnessed Y/N slip effortlessly into the role of Daphne Bridgerton, her talent shining brightly alongside her co-star, Max couldn't help but feel a swell of admiration for the woman he loved. Seeing her at her natural element makes him adore her even more.

"It's been amazing seeing you in action," he said to Y/N, pulling her close.

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes alight with happiness. "I'm glad you could be here with me, Max. It means the world to me."

With a playful glint in her eye, she nudged him gently. "You've been avoiding Regé all day," she teased, her voice laced with affection. "I thought you'd be eager to track him down."

Max chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I just didn't want to intrude on your scene," he replied, attempting to mask his unease.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Oh, come on, Max. I know you're not one to shy away," she teased, linking her arm through his. "Come now, don’t be rude.”

Max's sighed, conceding defeat. "Alright, alright.”

As they approached Regé, now in his everyday clothing, to his surprise he greeted him warmly, despite him being an asshole throughout the day. “This might sounds weird but I've been a fan of the sport for years, ever since I first saw Lewis Hamilton in action."

Max’s interest piqued. "That so?” he replied.

"I've watched so many of your races!" Regé continues, his admiration evident in his voice. "You're great, mate."

Max's cheeks flushed with a hint of pride at the praise. "Thanks, I appreciate that," he said, genuinely touched by Regé's words.

Y/N beamed at the exchange between the two men, delighted to see them finally talk. "I told you he's a big fan," she said, teasing Regé playfully.

Regé grinned sheepishly. "Guilty," he admitted, his enthusiasm unabashed. "I try to catch every race I can. There's something about the speed and precision of it all that's just mesmerizing."

Max felt a wave of relief wash over him as he realized he had more in common with Regé than he had initially thought. The fact that he is also a genuinely nice bloke also helps.

As Y/N excused herself to talk to the director, Max found himself alone with Regé, the air tinged with a slight awkwardness. Sensing the tension, Regé cleared his throat and turned to face Max with a sincere expression.

"Listen, Max," Regé began. "I just wanted to apologize if I ever made you uncomfortable. It was not my intention as I am just doing my job."

Max blinked in surprise at Regé's unexpected apology, his guarded demeanor melting away. "Oh, no, it's cool," Max reassured him quickly. "I understand. It's all part of the promotion game, right?"

Regé nodded, relief evident in his eyes. "Exactly," he said earnestly. "Most of those interviews are scripted anyway. But I just wanted to make sure you know that I didn't mean to come off too strong."

Max smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude towards Regé for his sincerity. "No worries, man," he said, clapping a hand on Regé's shoulder. "I appreciate you saying that. And hey, it's actually really cool to meet another fan of the sport."

Regé's smile widened at Max's words, the tension between them dissipating completely. "Definitely," he agreed warmly. "Maybe we can catch a race together sometime."

Max's grin mirrored Regé's. "Actually, how about I get you access to the Paddock Club for Silverstone? It's an experience every F1 fan should have."

Regé's eyes widened in surprise and excitement. "Seriously? That would be incredible!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

Max chuckled. "Consider it done," he said with a grin. "I'll make sure you have the best view of me winning.”

Y/N returned, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she slipped her arm around Max's waist. "What are you boys plotting about?" she asked, clearly intrigued by the conversation she had interrupted.

Max exchanged a knowing glance with Regé before turning back to Y/N. "Ehh just making plans for Silverstone," he replied. "I'm getting Regé access to the Paddock Club so he can experience F1 up close."

Y/N's eyes widened in delight, her smile widening. "That's amazing!" she exclaimed. "Regé, you're going to love it!"

Regé grinned from ear to ear. "I can't wait," he said eagerly, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Anyways, I'll catch up with you guys later. It was great meeting you, Max."

Max tipped his head. "Likewise," he said warmly. "Take care, man."

Y/N couldn't help but tease, "Aw, look at the two of you getting along so well. To think, not a few days ago, you would've punched him in the face," she remarked.

Max chuckled, shaking his head at the memory of his initial impression. "Yeah, well, I guess you could say he grew on me," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

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rynwritesreid · 4 months

Text

Mind Games~Spencer Reid

Chapter one~Genius 2.O

Chapter summary: You have just graduated from the FBI’s academy and a new member of the BAU’s team. Throughout your time at the academy you had heard so many great stories about the legendary Dr Reid and couldn’t wait to work along side him. However, Dr Reid is not your biggest fan and doesn’t know how to cope with someone being smarter than him.

Chapter warnings: Mention of a case (no details though) Fem! Reader. Angst. Spencer is mean in this and hates reader (though that will change in chapter four).

A/N: This series was requested, and it’s probably going to be the only time I do a requested series “A series where reader works at bau and she's as smart if not smarter then Reid and somehow you pick they end up in a relationship with dom Spencer”. I hope everyone enjoys it, and yes there will be smut in the near future ;).

~mind games masterlist~

~Join the taglist for mind games~

While you were in the academy, you heard all the stories about the genius who worked in BAU called Dr Spencer Reid. He is a man of such high intelligence, with three PH. Ds, an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory, one who was well known to show of how smart he is and one who did not easily back down. He is the stuff if legends.

You, well you, are also the stuff of legends. You didn’t believe in telling people your IQ score, because you didn’t think it really mattered, but it was high, higher than Spencer’s. You had a photographic memory, which many people often compared to Spencer’s one, but you would have to tell them the difference between an eidetic memory and a photographic memory.

You watched all your peers around you talk about what division of the FBI they were applying for, many were going for counterterrorism and financial crimes, but you had your eyes on the BAU. You knew all about how it was a close nit family, how Hotch and Rossi were like fathers to the entire group. You wanted nothing more than to be a part of that team, that family.

And so, with a determination fuelled by your own exceptional intellect and a burning desire to join the ranks of the BAU, you set out on a path that would lead you down a road less travelled. While your peers were focusing on their chosen divisions, you dedicated every waking moment to studying the minds of criminals, honing your profiling skills, and pushing the limits of your own mental faculties.

Your name was everywhere with in bureau, you were being called the newest genius, one who was going to make a name for herself, and one who was going to take the FBI by storm.

Unit Chief Agent Hotchner had heard whispers of your brilliance echoing through the halls of the FBI. He had seen your name pop up on his colleagues' reports, accompanied by glowing praise and commendations. Curiosity piqued, he decided to dig a little deeper, intrigued by the prospect of a new prodigy joining their ranks.

Hotchner delved into your background, poring over your academic achievements and accolades. He was astounded by the breadth of your knowledge and the depth of your understanding in various fields. Your impressive IQ score and photographic memory only added to his intrigue. It became clear to him that you possessed a unique blend of intellect and intuition that would be an invaluable asset to the BAU.

He knew he had to have you in the BAU, he knew that you, Reid, and Garcia would be an unstoppable force. So, when he saw your application to join his team, he knew you were going to get the job.

So, when you got the call, telling you your application had been successful, you couldn’t quite believe that you had landed your dream job.

It was your first day, Hotch was showing you around, who’s desk belong to who, where your desk was. It felt surreal, being in this building, been employed by the FBI, knowing you were going to be working alongside Dr Spencer Reid.

As Hotch led you through the bustling bullpen, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within you. The stories you had heard about Dr. Spencer Reid made him almost mythical in your mind, and now you were about to meet him in person.

Finally, Hotch stopped in front of a neatly organized desk and gestured for you to take a seat. "This will be your workspace," he said, his voice steady and commanding. "Make yourself at home."

You settled into the chair, taking a moment to soak in the atmosphere of the room. Each member of the team had their own unique personality reflected in their workspace. Penelope Garcia's desk was adorned with colourful trinkets and gadgets, her vibrant energy apparent even in her absence.

Spencer’s desk though, it was almost bare, there were a few files and books, but nothing fun, nothing that showed what his personality was like. You couldn't help but be intrigued by the stark contrast between Spencer's desk and the others. It seemed to reflect his focused and analytical nature, an embodiment of his dedication to the work they did at the BAU. As you settled into your chair, your eyes wandered over the shelves filled with books on various subjects - psychology, criminology, philosophy. Each book seemed well-loved and well-worn, evidence of Spencer's insatiable thirst for knowledge.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice that someone had entered the bullpen until Hotch's voice broke through the silence. "Spencer, I'd like you to meet our newest addition," he said, gesturing toward you.

You stood up, you almost felt star struck, but Spencer didn’t seem to care. He glanced at you with his piercing gaze, his eyes scanning your face as if studying every detail. There was an intensity in his expression that sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of apprehension and fascination in his presence.

"Hello," you managed to say, your voice filled with a nervous tremor. "It's an honour to meet you, Dr. Reid."

Spencer nodded, a slight tilt of the head that conveyed acknowledgement rather than warmth. "Likewise," he replied curtly, his attention already shifting back to the stack of files in his hands.

You couldn't help but feel a slight pang of disappointment at Spencer's aloofness. You had built up this image in your mind of the legendary Dr. Reid, someone who would be eager to share knowledge and engage in stimulating conversations. But here he was, seemingly indifferent to your presence.

Everyone else seemed to love you though, Derek had made a few flirtatious comments, Emily, JJ, and Garcia had invited you to go grab some drinks with them, Hotch and Rossi had told you good coping mechanisms, but Spencer seemed to be annoyed any time you spoke, or laughed, or really did anything. Everyone told you that’s just how he is when he doesn’t know you, but it still hurt.

You were determined to prove yourself to Spencer, to earn his respect and break through the cold exterior he seemed to present. You knew that gaining his trust and acceptance would not come easily, but you were ready to put in the effort.

Though the days turned into weeks and then into months, Spencer's demeanour towards you remained unchanged. He continued to keep his distance, always engrossed in his work, rarely acknowledging your presence unless absolutely necessary. It hurt, but you refused to let it deter you from your goal.

You poured yourself into each case, determined to prove your worth to the team. You spent countless hours analysing crime scenes, studying victimology, and delving deep into the minds of the perpetrators. Your keen intuition and sharp analytical skills began catching the attention of your colleagues.

You thought this might change Spencer’s mind about you, but it seemed to make him hate you. JJ had told that Spencer was used to being the smartest, everyone praising him, but you seemed to be smarter than him and that wasn’t something he was used too. But you couldn’t and you wouldn’t change who you are just to make someone feel better about themselves.

But the tension between you and Spencer continued to simmer beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. It was as if there was an unspoken competition, an invisible battle of intellects that neither of you were willing to back down from.

Despite the strained relationship, the BAU team continued to function like a well-oiled machine. Cases were solved, perpetrators were apprehended, and lives were saved. But there was always that lingering tension between you and Spencer, like an unresolved chord in an otherwise harmonious symphony.

One particularly gruelling case tested the limits of everyone's mental and emotional resilience. The team had been chasing a prolific serial killer who seemed to always be one step ahead. Sleepless nights and relentless hours of research had taken a toll on everyone, yourself included.

You were at your breaking point, not knowing why you couldn’t solve this case, and Spencer’s attitude problem with you was the cherry on top of the cake. You knew you had to say something to him, because you knew you couldn’t carry on like this.

Taking a deep breath, you approached Spencer's desk after everyone else had left for the night. His eyes were glued to the computer screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. This was your chance to address the tension that had been building between you.

"Spencer," you began, your voice firm but gentle. "We need to talk."

He glanced up at you, his expression guarded but curious. "What about?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of scepticism.

“You have an issue with me, and I know you are used to being the smartest person in any room you walk in to, everyone looking up to you as a God. But maybe you should get use to someone been on the same level as you”.

Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, a mix of surprise and irritation crossing his features. "I don't have an issue with you," he retorted, his voice laced with defensiveness.

You took a step closer, determined to make him see the truth. "You do, Spencer. Ever since I joined the team, you've treated me like an annoyance, like I'm intruding on your territory. But I'm not here to compete with you or undermine your intelligence. I'm here to work together, to bring justice to those who deserve it."

“God, you think you’re better than everyone else don’t you, Y/N. You’re not, you act like everyone should worship the ground you walk on. I bet you were top of your class in the academy, got straight A’s all throughout your school life, but that doesn’t matter now. You are not as clever as you think you are.”

Spencer's words cut deep, slicing through the tension between you with a sharpness that left you momentarily speechless.

“That’s what you think about me? You think I believe I am better than everyone, but I don’t. But I know you do, your outbursts are common knowledge Spencer, or that fact you love to rub it everyone’s faces that you have a doctorate.” You basically shouted this at him.

Spencer's steely gaze locked onto yours, his face a mask of disbelief mixed with anger. "You don't know anything about me," he snapped, his voice dripping with venom.

You felt tears starting to form in your eyes, you knew you couldn’t be around him any longer tonight. Turning on your heel, you made a swift exit from the bullpen, unable to bear the weight of the confrontation any longer. The familiar corridors of the BAU headquarters blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. You couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat, the weight of Spencer's words heavy on your shoulders.

As you found solace in a quiet corner of the building, your tears streamed down your face, mingling with the frustration, and hurt that consumed you. The confrontation with Spencer had left you feeling vulnerable and doubting your place on the team. It was hard to fathom how someone you once idolized could turn out to be so cold and dismissive.

There was a small part of you that wished you had never applied for this job, or you had been rejected. You didn’t want to quit, you wanted to prove Spencer wrong, but you knew you couldn’t do that with the state you are in. But this wasn’t over, and you would do everything you could to solve this case, and make Spencer like you, or at least be kinder to you.

~Taglist~

@bitchassbecky691 @iluvreid @drspencerreidsthings @amatheuni@i-heart-mgg @Liidiaaag@wyntersstuff@brilliantreid @donttrustlove@btsiguess-kpop @bellesmith628 @lunaticgurly @Oureternalbond@somethingsmart123

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alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

Text

throttle | jjk - series masterlist

pairing: boyracer!jk x fem reader - mutual disdain to lovers

synopsis

in which jeon jungkook hates speed limits, the local government, and the way that min yoongi looks at you.

current wc: 160,244

warnings: explicit language, drug usage, violence, dangerous driving, smut, and themes of an adult nature. not a mafia au, but teeters around the edges of it. organised crime and corruption are at the heart of the story. the characters have questionable morals and do dumb shit. be prepared to hate them as much as you love them. jungkook is a tittie luvr. no further questions.

specific smut warnings will be given at the start of each chapter - just know that jungkook loves tits, showers frequently and has a tongue piercing. oh and he's blonde he he <3 <3

cross posted to wattpad & ao3

minors dni | start date - late 2021

one - 17.8k

jungkook stops for gas. his receipt reads: petrol (38 litres), samgak gimbap (one), bottle of soju (one), curiosity of the cashier (piqued). - dangerous driving, depictions of violence, foul language, alcohol

two - 13.4 k

you consummate a hypothetical marriage - but hey, on the plus side, at least you can't testify against a spouse, right? - dangerous driving, smut, tipsy hookup

three - 7.5k

in the words of jimin, jungkook is 'all cock and balls, no brain', but luckily that's just how you like your men - smut, car sex

four - 9.1k

jungkook is a pied piper. whether you like it or not, you know you'll let him drag you to the river, just for him to watch you drown. - smut, the angst is upon us

five - 18.5k

you're 'just a friend from daegu' and jungkook is just a big fat filthy liar. - smut, angst intensifies

six - 20k

with lovers like jungkook, there's really no need for enemies - smut, angst

seven - 13.5k

jungkook sniffs powder how he used to sniff your hair; incessantly, obsessively. - depictions of violence, drug usage, angst

eight - 16.5k

yoongi chokes; on your hand around his throat, on his unspoken feelings, and on the courage it takes to tell you he's seeing someone else. - smut, infidelity

nine - 11.4k

you hate jungkook in the same way that teenagers hate their hometowns: no matter how much you want to run from it, you know it will always be the place you go back to.

ten

eleven

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pit-and-the-pen · 10 days

Text

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 2

Sorry this update took a little longer, I had some personal stuff going on and my work schedule was pretty packed this week.

Also, this is a fix-it fic. It'll be following the events of the whole series so buckle in y'all.

Chapter warnings: Warnings: Mention of abuse/ trauma, one comment about weight in terms of said said abuse , minor blood

WC: 9.6K

Read the previous parts here

[prologue] [chapter 1]

“Rhys is the most handsome High Lord.” I read line after line of similar words. I rolled my eyes at my brother's antics.

“He’s sure laying it on thick.” I say as I sat down next to Feyre. She looks up from her writing and gives me a guarded laugh.

“At least I’m entertaining.” She huffs out.

“I can help you too, if you want. Give you a break from him.” She raises her eyebrow at me, studying me with a look that made me want to sink in on myself.

“Why?” She asks sharply

I willed my temper down. “Because despite what Tamlin might tell you, we’re not evil,” I spit out at her, she doesn’t flinch even slightly at the venom in my voice. “And you’re going to be here once a month for the foreseeable future. I’d like us to at least tolerate each other. Plus, it would piss off my brother.” Her eyes shone with mischief.

“You should have started with that.” And that was that. I pushed Rhys’ papers to the side and picked out a few books that had been my favorite. The plots are interesting enough to make up for the basic words used. Feyre caught on fairly easily. She could recognize almost all of the basic words but struggled to read them out loud. Not fully understanding how the sounds mashed together. We sat and read, and then when that got to be too much for her we just started talking. It was nothing deep, not really gossip either. Just casual words thrown back and forth until she asks out of the blue. “What’s the deal with Tamlin and Rhys?” I froze into stillness only fae possessed. Sensing my discomfort she backtracked. “You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.” Her voice held a little edge of fear. I forced my shoulders to relax.

“No, you have every right to ask. It’s…complicated. You’re walking into centuries old distrust and unfortunately, are caught in the middle.” It wasn’t fair to her to be caught in all of this old shit. That was our baggage and I could see it was affecting her but she pressed on.

“But why do they hate each other so much?”

“I’m not the best person to ask.” She narrowed her eyes at my non-answer. I sighed. “We’ve both done some terrible things to each other's courts, the wounds run deep and that’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Why?” She would not let up.

“Because you love Tamlin. And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to ruin whatever picture you have of him.” That really seemed to pique her curiosity.

“You had a different experience with him?” It felt like she had punched me in the stomach. No. That’s the problem, I had the exact same experience with him and I ended up just as broken as I can see you’re becoming.

“That’s not a story for today.” I tried to keep the shake out of my voice and maybe it was that, or the fear I know I couldn’t keep off of my face that made her drop the subject with a small, “okay”.

It was lunch time before we decided to take a break. “Do you want to eat here or go out with the others?”

“Rhys will just pull me out if I don’t.”

“My brother can fuck off. What do you want to do?” I saw a ghost of a smile twitch across her face. So we ate in the library. I left only long enough to stack up two plates full of food. Rhys took in the amount of food I was grabbing,

“Hungry today?” I only stuck my tongue out at him and walked back out of the room.

Rhys joined us a little after lunch. If he was surprised to still see me in here, he didn’t let it show. I didn’t leave until Feyre told me she was okay with me doing so.

It was probably overkill to be so protective of her, Rhys was the last person who would ever try to hurt her or anything like that but she was still uneasy around him. She hid it well with the sheer disdain she showed him but I could tell from the rigidness of her shoulders and that slight edge in her voice. But there was also something else there that I couldn’t put my finger on.

Feyre had stayed in the library long after their meeting. I found her hunched over another book, finger slowly tracing over the words. She hardly looked up as I placed another plate of food in front of her and went to walk out of the room. She didn’t call after me and I was okay with that. Scared she might start another round of questions.

I didn’t see much of her after that. So I traveled back and forth between Velaris. Spending half my time at the manor and the other half actually doing my job as researcher. I really didn’t have to work but it gave me something to fill up my days. Before Amarantha I spent most of my time helping Cassian manage the Illyrians, from the background of course. Being the High Lords sister did not save me from their views on females. So I only showed up when necessary, Azriel and Cassian always following behind me. They learned fast enough to keep their tongues in check if they wanted to keep them in their mouths.

Currently I was looking at old maps of Prythian. Combining through records for landscapes and t river patterns. Where the boundaries have shifted over time. And then came the daunting task of trying to pick out recountings of the old war. Figuring out who does best with what court. Prepping for the outcome we were all dreading, another war with Hybern.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to get from these books.” Cassian said, absently flipping through the large leather bound book I had just placed to the side.

“Anything. Weakness, strengths, strategies, gods, anything.” I said leaning back. I knew I had to take a break, when I closed my eyes I could still see the words swirling in the blackness behind my eyelids. I took a deep breath and went to look at the giant map I had covered my desk with. Pins and markers to recount every movement during the last war.

“Do you really think that it’s going to help?” I know he wasn’t trying to be rude. His voice was soft when he asked and my shoulders sunk in slightly.

“I don’t know. But if it does…” He nodded in understanding. Azriel knocked lightly on the door, making both Cas and I jump. He had learned to knock now after he had to dodge out of the way of the book I had launched at him last week. I still haven't reaccustomed myself to how quiet his footsteps could be. A skill I had once prided myself on, I had even been able to pick up on those silent footsteps and find him before he wanted to be seen.

“Just wanted to remind you two to eat.” He looked at the books strewn across the table, taking note of the one Cassian was still flipping through, playing with truly. “I know how you can get when you’re focused. Time for food.” He smiled at the shy look I gave him from being called out. Many times he had to drag me out of my office when I really got into something. His smile made me think he was remembering those times too.

“If we go, will you two stop making eyes at each other?” Cassian spoke up, making me break away from Azriel’s stare.

“We were not.” I responded, trying to tame the blush in my cheeks. Get it together. I told myself as I forced myself to turn to Cas. His eye roll was the only answer I got. Azriel had already started walking down the hall and I slapped Cassian on the arm.

“You’re so annoying sometimes Cas.”

“And you love me for it.” He gave me a loud, wet peck on the cheek and gave a full head-thrown-back laugh when I made a big show of wiping it off.

I didn't return to the other house that night. Opting to stay with my friends. One of whom, Cassian, had gone into the wine cellar and returned with his arms almost full of the expensive bottles. I just laughed as he shot me a wink. I blew him a kiss back as I settled down on the couch besides Mor.

We didn’t bother getting glasses, passing the bottles around while we talked about absolutely nothing, acting like we had during our teenage years. It was later in the night before Rhys appeared in the living room. He took one look at all of us and rolled his eyes before he swiped the bottle out of my hand and brought it to his lips.

Mor and I were fully supporting each other's weight on the couch, I couldn’t tell who was leaning against who more but our giggles started to get louder and more frequent. She whispered to me so quietly I had to strain to hear her. “Stop staring at him.” And we fell into another fit of giggles.

She was right though, everytime Azriel talked I could feel how my eyes stayed locked on him. Reminding myself to breathe when he pulled the bottle to his lips. I pushed off of Mor and went to stand up, wobbling slightly as my feet touched the ground. Azriel made a move like he was going to catch me if I took a face first dive on the carpet but when I steadied myself, he moved back. It happened so fast I wonder if I imagined it.

“I think it’s bedtime.” I said, mouth feeling mushy as the words came out. Mor laughed again and I turned to face her and gave her a rude gesture. I offered that same hand to pull her up to her feet and she pouted before taking it. Everyone seemed to get the hint that it was late so all of us in our various drunken states started the climb up the stairs to our rooms. Good nights thrown through the hallways, Cassian all but screaming it to make sure Mor and I heard him. The sound made us flinch before laughing again as I closed the door to my room.

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

Before I knew it Feyre’s week was officially up. She had demanded to be brought back home and I fought down the biting comments I wanted to make as Rhys agreed. I stepped besides the pair and she looked over to me for a brief second before pretending that neither of us existed.

“You don’t have to come with me. Rhys spoke into my mind and replied with a shake of my head. I could do this for Feyre. Despite every part of my body screaming at me for bringing her back to the Spring court, if she could be brave then so could I. He sighed at my stubbornness but knew that there was no changing my mind.

We weren’t going far. Simply dropping her at the border of spring and summer and making sure she got into the manor. I could manage that. Yet as we were getting ready to winnow in, I felt my hands go clammy. I remember me saying I’ll never go back there willingly.

The smell was the first thing that hit me. The overwhelming floral scent. I could smell the roses from the outside of the manor this far away, their sheer number coating the air with a smell that threatened to suffocate me on the spot.

“Goodbye, Feyre.” She had already started walking before he finished speaking, not sparing so much as a glance back to us. So we stood and watched her retreating figure until those wooden doors closed behind her. That was that.

We didn’t return to Hewn city, instead winnowing outside the townhome.

Rhys didn’t stay to greet our friends. Instead, he all but ran up the stairs to either go to his study or his room. Everyone gave me a tentative look before I shrugged and sprawled out on the couch besides Azriel.

He didn’t try to pull away from me. Instead, he lifted his hands from their spot on his lap. His way of telling me I could place my legs up so I didn’t have to sit awkwardly to avoid his wings. I did and I ignored how happy that little gesture made me. Over the last few weeks he seemed to be able to handle being around me again.

Cassian started rapid firing questions at me. What is she like? She threw what at Rhys? Anything for scraps of what their brother's mate was actually like. Sure they had gotten the story of her trials but this was different, getting to know who she actually was. Cassian seemed pleased to know she was still just as head strong. “Maybe someone will finally humble him a little.” He chuckled

Rhys spoke up as he entered the room. “Who’s humbling who?” He picked at an invisible piece of lint on his shoulder. The only sign of how upset sending Feyre back had made him.

Cassian didn’t answer but instead asked “Did she really throw a shoe at you?” He laughed when Rhys shot me a dirty look. Answering the question for him. “I want to meet her.” Cassian said and I swore he was almost pouting.

Rhys sighed, “And have you scare her off.” Cassian looked hurt so Rhys added, “Let her get more adjusted to me before we add all of this into the mix. Besides, she cannot see Velaris. Not when…” not when she came back to Tamlin. Not when she could still spill every little secret of ours to one of our biggest enemies.

Cas looked like he wanted to argue but only said “Princess gets to see her.”

“Because I have a winning personality.” I smiled at him and he launched one of the small pillows from his chair at me. I managed to deflect it but as it bounced off my arm it hit Azriel square in the face. I bit down my laughter at his faux outraged face. He threw it back and before I knew it, they were yelling at each other, well Cas was yelling and Azriel was trying his hardest not to laugh.Sensing a fight was emanate, I pushed off of Azriel and spoke loudly over the two Illyrian males.

“Outside if you’re going to fight.” Even Armen, who had stalked into the room around as Rhys laughed at that.

Cassian turned to me, his temper still flaring. “We’re not dogs.”

“Last time you both fought in the house, I was cleaning up glass for a week.” I raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to say otherwise.

Azriel spared Cassian from having to respond. “C’mon.” He said, pulling Cassian to what I could only assume was the training ring.

“I forgot how much you look like Rhys when you get bossy.” Cassian said as he was pulled from the room. And my responding gesture made the rest of the room go up in laughs. Rhys followed them out. Probably needing to get rid of his own tension and Armen had snuck back into the research room.

I didn’t have it in me to just stare at maps all day long, regardless of knowing how much I needed to. So I just stayed in the living room, a random book from the shelf pulled onto my lap.

Rhys came back first, hair only slightly disheveled, wings out proudly. “Once I get out of the bath, it’s time for your training.” I huffed and he could sense I was about to argue with him. “Cassian and Azriel told me you can’t use your powers.” Traitors. “So we’re going to figure out what the hel is wrong.”

Less than an hour later I was sitting in Rhys’ study. A small candle flickering in front of me, taunting me to snuff it out. I pulled and pulled for any of the small dark tendrils to do so but found nothing. Sweat was beginning to form on my brow with how hard I was concentrating.

Rhys huffed in frustration at my lack of progress. “It was easier teaching Feyre to read.”

“Then by all means, go back to that. I’d love to see her throw another shoe at you.” I bit back at him and he just rolled his eyes.

“Try again.” He went right back to business, ignoring my statement. I really did try. I Have been trying. That rich darkness that normally lingered under my skin seemed like it was hidden behind a wall. Just out of my grasp, so close I could almost taste it, almost touch it. I yelped as I reached out towards it. Pain flickering through my body as if it had burned me. Rhys’ hand on my shoulder snapped me out of whatever had happened. Sweat broke across my skin and I flinched as I felt my magic fight against the wall inside my head.

“What’s happening?” I spoke to my brother. He just stared at me before I felt a phantom knock at my mental shields. I forced them open and almost screamed at the pain that flooded through me. I knew the moment he found it. Felt that sickening thread of magic that never released when the spell broke for the other high lords. Rhys’ presence in my head retreated and we could only look at each other. No words to be found between us.

“Fuck.” The first word he uttered and I somehow found it in myself to laugh.

“That bad?”

“Good news is there’s not a physical block. No magic stopping you.” So why did he still look like death froze over? “Bad news, you’re the block.”

“Go on?”

“I don’t fully know but it looks like your magic is being tied up by your own magic.”

“So, you’re saying. I’m the problem?”

“I’ve been saying that your whole life but yes, especially in this case.” He teased, trying to lighten the new tension in the air. I bite

“Well then that simply means you’re going to be stuck with me a lot more. That or I go to Helion.” He rolled his eyes at the mention of the other high lord, one who has been trying for the last few centuries to get me into his bed.

“Maybe.” shit. It must be serious if he’s actually willing to let Helion help. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.” He says solemnly and points back to the candle. I stare at him for a moment before sighing and trying to cover the light again.

We sit as I try again and again and again. Nothing besides a small puff of black smoke to let us know that I’m even trying. Right as I’m about to say something I see Rhys flinch and his eyes flare with anger. Only not at me, his eyes look far away as that anger homes in on whatever must have made his shoulders tense.

I see his eyes come back into focus and I don’t even have to ask before he’s spilling. “He hurt her.” I don’t need him to say who. “I can tell it’s nothing serious but I got nothing but pure fear from her.” Rhys had already explained that the bargain amplified the usual effects of the mating bond. That he could sometimes get whiffs of any strong emotion from Feyre. Fear, anger, mostly fear but as her nightmares have started to fade I haven't heard much about it. My stomach curls and I try to will my hands to not shake as my mind drifts to the endless possibilities of what could have happened.

“It’ll be okay. She’s strong.” The words felt wrong in my mouth and Rhys said the very thing I had been thinking.

“You were strong.”

“Well you can’t very well march in there and get her.” I saw the look on his face. “You can’t, we can’t. And she still doesn’t want us. Unless it feels like that first time…” He shook his head. So not as bad. Still bad, still awful enough for her to send fear down the bond but not bad enough that Rhys could only hear her screaming for someone to get her out of there. So we both let it go, ignored the thoughts that told every part of us to go help this girl from whatever Tamlin was inflicting. But even I knew that Tamlin’s anger comes from his love. That anger so wrapped in fear that something will happen that he almost wills those incidents into existence.

We spend hours trying to break whatever block is in my head until I’m grumpy and all but biting his head off at every little comment he makes. He bites right back at me and I know there's no point in this anymore, both of us too on edge to do anything productive. Throwing his hands up in surrender he doesn’t stop me as I storm out of his study. I run head first into Azriel on my way to my room, his hands resting on my arms so I don’t topple over.

“Training went that well.” He says with a small chuckle. The noise sends a low growl from my throat and he takes his hands off of me. “We’ll figure this out.” He says and I continue my path to my room, not staying long enough to see the concern in his eyes.

I was still grumpy by the time that dinner rolled around but I managed to pull myself out of bed. My head is pounding from the strain and whatever Rhys did inside my mind. I throw on the first thing I find, still in my thin nightgown I pulled on after my bath, and head down to dinner. I don’t say much and not even Cassian tries to cheer me up, all he does is remind me that I’m joining them for training in the morning. I don’t respond with anything other than stabbing the chicken on my plate with extra force.

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

I struck the center of the dummy and looked over for Cassian for any semblance of approval. He gave me a bored look and I stomped over to the stupid thing and pulled all three of the daggers out of it. Cas wanted me to get back up to snuff with long range before he put a sword in my hand again. I had never needed the sword that I kept strapped to my back on the missions I would accompany Azriel on, always having my powers to stop anyone from getting that close in the first place. Between Azriel shadows and my blanket of darkness, very rarely did we ever need anything more than truth teller.

I grunted in frustration as the sharp metal flew through my fingers time after time, all of them hitting the center of the target.

“Fuck this Cas, I did the warm ups, I did the exercises. Let me fight.” I needed to do something more than this. If I couldn’t use my powers, if they never came back, I needed to be useful. In no world would I just sit around and let my friends risk death while I sat around playing with my maps. Cassian must have heard the desperation in my voice because he agreed.

We circled each other and I got a rare glimpse of Cassian with no restraint. This was the war general that scared people just by being on the battlefield. I tried not to let the frision of fear show as he surveyed every inch of me, seemingly reading my body language like I was screaming my next moves at him. I didn’t stand a chance. His fist made contact with my nose before I could turn out of the way and I fell to the ground. My hand went up and when I pulled it back, my fingers were sticky with my blood. Cassian was instantly in front of me, mumbling out apologies. I held up my hand to stop him from talking.

“Cassian.” A stern voice called out as I ran my hand along my nose again, feeling for any breaks. “What did you do to her?” Azriel’s voice was full of concern as he knelt besides Cassian.

“Alright bat brains. I’m not dying,” I started to stand up and they both reached out their hands to help me up, I swatted them away and brushed off the dust on my pants. “It’s not the first time I’ve been too slow before, and it’s not going to be the last.” They both stared at me and I rolled my eyes. “C’mon. I still have to beat you Cas.” He shook his head laughing and Azriel shot him a glare.

Cassian, never one to back down from a challenge, and never one to miss an opportunity to piss off Azriel, agreed to go back into the ring with me. He coached me through it this time, slowing down his punches to explain how to predict them and block them. All things that I knew but just needed more practice. By the end of the hour I was covered in sweat but I was able to block him without his guidance. Azriel didn’t leave either, hanging back to watch, adding his own little tips and tricks to help me get some advantage over Cassian but I still couldn’t get him to budge an inch.

“Do you want to get in with her then?” Cassian shouted to Azriel as he continued to assist me from the side lines. I made a motion for Cassian to stop as I tried to catch my breath. Placing my hands on my knees and sucking in screaming breaths.

“I think I’m done.” I panted out.

“If you wanted me to make you breathless princess, all you had to do was ask.” He winked and tossed a canteen full of water over to me. I drank half of it in one long gulp and forced myself to stand up straight. My muscles were already crying out in protest. Tomorrow was going to suck for sure.

The three of us walked back up to the house, laughing and joking and I felt proud of the progress I was making. Even if the dried blood still on my hands might have suggested otherwise.

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

A month went by so fast, I had to tick off the days to make sure I was right.I woke up to Rhys preparing to collect Feyre from the spring court again. Rhys didn’t ask me to go with him this time, after that last flood of emotions he knew he would have a hard time containing himself let alone both of us.

I was already waiting at the house for when they got back, ready to play mediator if need be. They had barely materialized before my brother was fussing over Feyre. The two bickered back and forth but from the way she looked over herself, I knew even she could hear the worry in his voice. She had lost more weight since the last time she had been here. The shadows under her eyes creeped back onto her pale skin. “Eat breakfast with me.” He said and I shifted from my place in the living room. Mor was somewhere in the house after her visit to the Court of Nightmares yesterday. Probably still decompressing with the bottle of wine she took with her to bed.

I gave Feyre a small smile and she didn’t return it, but she didn’t glare at me either. It’s a step at least. The female in front of me gave a heavy sigh after weighing Rhys offer. The growl I heard come from her stomach seemed to make the decision for her. I didn’t follow them, if she had wanted me to I would have been able to tell. So I stayed close enough that I could swoop in and save her from my brother's overprotectiveness if need be. The glimpses of their conversation I caught weren’t the best but I stilled completely as I caught,

“I was tortured, beaten and fucked until only I could tell myself who I was, what I was protecting. Please- help me keep that from happening again. To Prythian.” My heart ached at the words. He had had it so much worse than I did, regardless of what people might believe. I could see it on his face during some of his bad days, the scars of what Amarantha did to him. I didn’t listen to her response as I walked to my room.

I found Feyre the next day as I had the last time, hunched over the table with more lines from Rhys to read. She was copying them in better handwriting than she had before. When I approached she didn’t so much as look up at me. I called her name gently and still nothing. So I took that as my sign to let her be. Rhys had gotten called to the war camps later that day.

“Just look after her please. I know she’s fine but let me know if either of you need anything.” He blabbered as I all but pushed him out the door.

“We’ll be fine, you overprotective mother hen.” His face fell slightly and I couldn’t stand that look on his face. “I’ll let you know if she needs anything, okay? Now go be a High Lord.” I saw a hint of a smile as he winnowed out of the house.

I tried to stay out of her way. Whatever bit of goodwill she had allowed me last time seemingly disappeared. So I kept bringing her books when she ran out of the ones Rhys had given her, brought her food and left her to her own devices. Today, she didn’t give me a glare as I sat down in the armchair on her left. I opened my own book without giving her a second glance. The small hmph she made was the only indication she had even noticed my presence. She didn’t want to talk and quite frankly, neither did I, perfectly content with getting lost in our own books.

It was around midday and the sun was just starting to peek through the heavy curtains of the library when I felt Rhys appear in the room. In his hands were trays of food which he presented to Feyre. A small thank you left her lips and I wanted to smack that smug look on Rhys face as he teased her. But then I saw his face get serious and I suddenly felt very much like I was intruding on a private moment. “Tell me how I can help you.” His voice was scratchy and I knew he was trying to hold back tears, to keep the conversation casual enough that she wouldn’t shut him out again. I truly did try to tune them out but these were the same things I had been wanting to say to her all week but couldn’t find the strength.

“If you fall apart then the bitch wins. All of that is for nothing and she wins.” Rhys said plainly and Feyre flinched before going back to her book. I could tell that she was talking to him in her mind. My eyes grew wide when I saw that slight layer of frost cover the book cover. Rhys barely had time to dodge said book as it was thrown right at his head. It bounced harmlessly to the floor and I stifled a laugh. The laugh died in my throat when I saw the flicker of flames in her palms and I tried to reach my mind out to Rhys, he all but threw me out.

Feyre and Rhys left later that day. I didn’t offer to come with, didn’t want to come with. Just like last time when Rhys returned to Velaris, he stalked to his office and hid out for the rest of the evening. I only got close enough to the door to leave a plate of food outside before retreating back to my side of the house. His emotions pouring through the door were enough to give me a headache, the way it felt like I was walking into a brick wall. I didn’t try to talk to him for the rest of the day. Instead choosing to pull my attention back to the map in my study.

I had been neglecting it to focus on Feyre and Rhys but I knew it’s just because I wasn’t getting anywhere. No matter how many books I read, I couldn’t think of anything that would help us win this war. Not without all seven courts working together and I knew Hel would freeze over before that ever happened.

So I read until my eyes became blurry and heavy. My head had gotten so heavy like the words were getting stuck and wouldn’t leave. When I felt my eyes starting to close and knocking on the door jostled me awake. I saw the shadows before I saw him, too tired to notice that they had time to take in my current state and report back to Az.

“You should take a break.” He said as he went to pull up a chair at the table I was sitting at.

“I can’t take a break when I haven’t found anything yet.” I whined at him. “I’m supposed to be good at this, I am good at this. Or at least I was.” I slumped in my chair and I saw that familiar look of concern flash through his warm amber eyes. He sat there, I could almost see the gears in his brain turning, his shadows starting to swirl around the floor like soothing waves. I stared at them and felt my mind calm slightly. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, wings flapping behind him.

We just sat there in silence for a few moments and then he stood up suddenly. My eyes tracked the movement, following his arm as he extended a hand to me. It was like my brain short circuited at the gesture. He had to clear his throat before I snapped out of it and I timidly placed my hand in his. He led me out of my office and I felt his shadows on my heels. “Where are we going?” I laughed at how ridiculous this must look, one of the fiercest Illyrian warriors towing someone behind him like an excited kid.

“Just be quiet. You’ll know when we get there.” His own voice full of an almost giddy excitement. So I let him pull me along. All the way outside until it clicked. There was a little patch of grass beside the Sidra that I loved to sit by when the weather was just starting to turn warm. Our little group used to spend free days out on that field, just soaking in the warmth. He gave me a proud smirk when we finally reached that stretch of grass. “Now, you’re going to sit and just enjoy being out here.”

“Is that an order?” I teased and he didn’t miss a beat.

“If that means you’ll actually do it, then yes.” I sat and looked out over the river. The lights and sounds of the city walk could just trickle in, becoming a lovely hum in the back of my mind. I patted the spot next to me and Azriel sat beside me. I curled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on top of them. Just looking at the city I loved so much. We didn’t talk, Azriel was always good for that. He knew when I needed the quiet. The sound of the small waves helped clear my head and after a while I felt my shoulders sink down, the tension lightening. It was still there of course but became more manageable as I could smell the water and Azriel’s pine and fresh air scent. It wrapped its way around me and held me like my favorite blanket.

“Thank you.” I said, breaking the comfortable silence. We didn’t look at each other, still staring out at the city just ahead.

“Of course. Anything for you,” He cleared his throat, “For one of my friends.” I bit down the string at that little word. I fought the urge to put some distance between us at the feeling that flooded me. The cruel reminder of just exactly how he saw me. So I just pulled my legs in tighter and ignored all the thoughts of him that began to take over.

We didn’t head back to the house until sundown. The pair of us walked under the flickering faelights that lined the streets. It still blows my mind how much the city changed while I was gone. I told him that much. And he shrugged off the tiny complement.

“Rhys and I will never be able to thank you enough for how much you all did while we were…gone.” My voice felt tight as I finished, “You kept our home safe when we couldn’t.” He turned to look at me and went to say something but stopped himself. His face looked slightly pained, in that concerned way he always managed. He shook his head slightly.

“You did more than we ever could. You and Rhys gave us a chance to have something to protect in the first place.” In his words, I was pulled back to that night when it had all gone to shit. How Cassian and Azriel were out dealing with the camps and how I couldn’t convince Rhys not to go so I insisted that I come along. I had to beg him to let me come with him and he still wasn’t happy about it. We walked right into a trap and before most of his power had been ripped away from him he wiped the memory of Velaris from everyone who was under the mountain and let our friends know what was happening, how they couldn’t come after us without leaving Velaris unguarded.

Azriel’s small nudge to my shoulder pulled me back to the present and his eyes asked the question before he needed to.

“I’m okay.” But I felt how my arms had wrapped around myself but he didn’t say anything about it, letting me have my space. We reached the house again and I could hear Cassian and Mor’s voices floating down the hallway. The sound alone plastered a smile on my face. Azriel followed behind me as I rounded the corner and Cassian all but cheered when he saw me. “There you are princess, we went to pull you out of your study but it seems someone beat us to it.” He gave me a small wink and I laughed at the joke behind it. I shook my head as I sat down next to Mor who was already pouring me a glass of wine.

Rhys spoke to me across the table, “I peaked in and saw the map, tomorrow if you’re up for it I want all of us to go over it.” I nodded and he smiled at me. And we all ate and joked and I left the love I felt for the people in the room washed over me like the waves in the Sidra.

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

“So if it comes down to war. Who do we have?” Rhys turned to Cassian and myself. We were all sitting around the map I had been working on, face grim as I explained the various markings.

“The Illyrians don’t have a choice. The court of nightmares should. We kept up pretty well with Dawn and Day. Winter…” His voice trailed off. I still remember Kallias’ face as the news broke of the attack on Winter. The thousands of babes dead by Amarantha’s hand. The pure loathing his face held as he looked at Rhys.

“I can talk to them.” I had always liked Kallias. And from the little bit I’ve heard since our return home, he finally married Viviane after being friends since childhood. Viviane was sweet and her, Mor and I had been known to get ourselves in trouble when together. If she would listen, Winter would come around.

“Autumn and Spring are lost causes.” Cassian sighed beside me, slumping down in his chair.

“Tamlin is delusional enough to think it would keep him safe.” And keep Feyre safe. But I didn’t say that outloud. “Beron is…well Beron. Unless we think we can pursue one of the brothers to take him out of the equation, I think it’s better to not plan for them.”

“Summer?” Rhys asked pointedly ignoring Cas’ words on the other seasonal courts.

“Tarquin is new and young. He’ll side with the majority. But I think I could talk to him and at least see where his loyalties lie.” I had only talked to the new high lord a few times during our time under the mountain. He seemed nice enough, one of the few people who was even willing to talk to me at all. No fear of the role I had been forced into and hoped he would side with us. Hoped his newness wouldn’t scare him into the easy choice.”

“I don’t like the idea of having two courts fighting against us.” Azriel finally spoke up. I had almost forgotten he was in the room but his shadow currently sitting at my feet should have been reminder enough. “Hybern has the armies he needs and if he has the cauldron….”

“So what do you suggest?” My brother asked, head in his hands.

“We talk to them. Let them know that we won’t win this if we’re not unified. Remind them that we fought a war once to avoid this very thing and some courts were on the wrong side of history then and would be now.” I spoke plainly, it was the only answer. If it had been anyone else the idea would have been shot down. But Rhys just let out a heavy breath and nodded.

“We’ll wait until we’re sure. Some courts will refuse to believe there will be a war until it’s staring them in the face.” The tone in Rhys’ voice letting us know this meeting was over. We all stayed in the room, the same exhausted look sat on our faces. “Good work.” Rhys said to me as he studied the map again. “You got all of this from books?” I had been too young to remember most of the war, let alone fight in it. But at least someone had thought it smart to recount all of it in very exact detail, I just managed to translate to current day Prythian. Rhys was silently nodding to himself as he really studied the map. The others slowly filter out of the room, leaving Rhys and I alone studying the map.

“And these?” He pointed to the orange marks I had drawn all over.

“Trade agreement routes, the thicker the line, the more movement there is through that path. They would be the most vulnerable areas since people know them so well. They’re also normally the quickest way between courts.” I pointed out more of the lines and pins. I had so much marked off, down to what ways the rivers flowed and where their currents changed. Rhys just drank in all the information I threw at him, only nodding along to the explanations. I was about to start on another part of the map before I saw his face freeze.

Rhys had completely stilled besides me. That all-too-familiar far-away look on his. When I raised my eyebrow at him, “What is it? Is it…” He didn’t wait for me to finish, instead he let me into his mind and I almost flinched at whatever feeling Feyre was sending him. The crushing agony and pure terror. It was a feeling I knew all too well. These weren't the few stray glimpses Feyre had sent him while they were separated. This was the very thing all of us were holding our breath for, hoping it never happened.

“Rhys we can’t just ignore it this time.” I spoke, already leaving the table. His hand wrapped around my wrist, making me pause.

“If you storm in there, Tamlin has every right to declare a war.”

“And we’ll have every right to kill his sorry ass. Something that we could have done decades ago.” I spit back at my brother.

“Please.” His voice shook with fear. Scared for Feyre and maybe for me. I put my hands up in surrender. I couldn’t argue against the tone in his voice.

“So how do you want to do this then?” I asked him and we started planning.

In less than 10 minutes Mor had winnowed right on the border of spring and summer. Rhys had insisted that she come along to help. Her status would help blanket us from any repercussions. Plus her powers would come in handy if any of the guards found us. So her and I snuck into that manor I had sworn I would never see again. Do it for Feyre. Be brave for her. I said to myself as my own terror rose to a fever pitch.

I could see the darkness already pouring out of the house. My anger quickly turned into fear. What did he do to her? The voice in my head screamed. Rhys had already broken the wards and whatever was locking her inside the house. Mor knocked out the guards before they could spot us. When we finally entered the house my blood ran cold. Sitting in a ball of inky darkness was Feyre. Her screams pierced something deep inside of me. I looked around and locked eyes with Alis. Her eyes wide as she took in my face.

“He locked her in the house. I tried to…Please just keep her safe.” Was all the older fae had said to me.

My heart warmed at the concern in her voice. The same concern she had once shown me. I nodded and walked towards Feyre. Whatever darkness she was wielding seemed to only be for her and as I shook her shoulder, gently saying her name they retreated slightly. I looked over to Mor who only gave me a small nod. Taking her cue, I picked up the shaking female and was startled by how light she felt. Mor spoke up from beside me. “Your guards are going to have a hell of a headache when they wake up.”

Alis nodded in understanding and I added. “Don’t tell him where we took her. Please.” And for a second I felt just as broken as the female in my arms. I knew she would tell him, and would have to tell him but a small part of me wished she wouldn’t. But that was unfair to expect of her. It reminded me too much of the same hope I had when I left. Face sunken in and heart broken as I begged her to not tell Tamlin I was leaving. No one was there to help me and I’ll be damned if Feyre ever felt that pain. I didn’t say another word as Mor winnowed us right in front of the border. It felt like I could finally breathe again as the scent shifted to ripe fruit and salt water that marked us as safe. Marked us in summer. Feyre shifted in my arms and mumbled something softly.

Mor soothed a hand through her hair. “You’re free.”

Rhys quickly scoped Feyre from my arms without so much as a word. He looked at Mor and I

“We did everything by the book.” Rhys nodded before I felt the air whoosh around my ears and I knew we had made it home. Rhys deftly climbed the stairs to take Feyre to her room and I just stood staring at my brother back. I blocked out the memories that began to rise to the surface. The scar on my arm prickled and when my other hand raised to scratch at the angry white lines that trailed down my forearm, Mors hand wrapped against mine. Grounding me in the present.

“She’s free.” She repeated to me.

“Thank the mother.” I responded as I started to climb the stairs suddenly bone tired.

Feyre didn’t emerge from her room that night or the next morning. More than once I found myself standing outside her door, hand held up to knock but some part of my brain told me not to. Rhys hasn't left her side the whole time she was asleep. Whatever magic she had used in the house had exhausted her and I felt my heart pang for her. How alone she must have felt, how scared she must have been to be locked in that house. I remember my simple panic the first time I went to the basement of the townhouse. How it transported me back to under the mountain, I couldn’t imagine how it felt to be locked away again.

When I finally did see her, she seemed to have gotten a little color back. Enough so that she was able to argue with Rhys again. I didn’t linger this time to hear the fight, letting them duke it out in private. But as Rhys turned the corner, I knew something that happened. Something important.

”We’re going home.”

If someone had told me two months ago that Feyre would be standing in the living room of our home in Velaris I would have probably keeled over laughing. But here we were, Feyre’s eyes flickering from spot to spot in the house. I couldn’t get a read on her face but before I could even process that, I heard a pounding on the door. Cassian’s voice filtering through the wood, already complaining. Rhys shot me a look that said deal with them please. He tried to hide it but I could tell he was waiting for Feyre’s reaction to her surroundings. A hint of anything to gauge how she was feeling. He needed her to like this place like he needed to breathe. So I excused myself from the room and slipped out the front door.

”Are you serious Cas?”

”I want to meet her. She’s right there, my brothers m-” I cut him off, blocking both him and Azriel from trying to peek into the house. They could easily push right past me but stayed a healthy distance.

”Do not finish that sentence. Do you want all of Velaris to know?” I whispered screamed at him and he rolled his eyes.

”I promise you drama queen, no one’s up this early. I don’t want to be up this early.”

After a few minutes of us bickering back and forth, Rhys opened the door and said to us, “Are you all just going to stand there?”

Cassian all but trampled me trying to get in the house. I laughed when I saw his crestfallen face as he noticed Feyre was no longer in the room. “She was here right?” He spoke to the room.

”Maybe she’s scared of your good looks Cas, can’t have her falling in love with the wrong Illyrian bastard now can we?” I shot Rhys a wink and he growled lightly.

”She’ll meet you when she’s ready.” Was all he said before he rangled all of us into the dining room.

Feyre slept for the rest of the morning. She came down the stairs dressed in Night Court clothes and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The way they seemed to compliment her well enough and I had to bite my tongue to prevent me from pointing that out. Rhys met her at the door and shot me a vulgar gesture at my sugary sweet, “Be safe kids.” That I called out from my spot on the couch. I sat on the couch until the sun started to set. I had just got to the good part and debated even going to the dinner at all but I was dying to see how Feyre would handle our crazy family. If she had any chance at surviving here, she needed to like them or they would drive her crazy. Although from Cassian’s earlier words that might be the case either way. So I groaned and pulled myself off the couch, pulling on the first thing that I saw and winnowed with Mor to the front steps of the house.

Azriel and Cassian were waiting to fly us up. Cassian wrapped his arm around Mor’s waist and Azriel did the same to me. I hardly felt my feet leave the ground before he was already placing me down in front of the door. I had not had the heart to come here since I’ve been home. Too many memories for me to want to come alone and Mor grabbed my hand as she pulled me through the threshold. We had just settled in before I heard the faint trails of Rhys and Feyre voices outside the door. I couldn’t stop the two males from bounding to the door, they flung it open to reveal a very annoyed looking Rhys. I held my breath as she stood in the doorway, eyes searching for something and she landed on me. She squared her shoulders but Cassian was already speaking.

”I promise we won't bite.”

Last I heard, Cassian, no one has taken you up on that offer.” And I laughed as Feyre’s face blanched. I didn’t miss the way the female's eyes raked over the Illyrians as they stepped into the light. I tried not the bristle as her eyes lingered on Azriel just a fraction longer than I would have liked. Rhys introduced the two and it was Feyres response to one of his questions that made me feel a frision of pride.

”How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?” She would fit right in and Cassian’s booming laugh told me that very same thing. Armen had appeared almost out of thin air as we all made our way to the table.

Feyre was slowly filled in about how the three brothers had met. Her eyes flickered to me during the story.

”Where do you fit into all of this, besides being his sister.” She quickly added. Everyone seemed to be waiting for me to answer.

”I mean there's not much else to it besides that. He got stuck with them so I did too. I nearly knocked Cassian's teeth in the first time I met him and I’ve been stuck with them ever since.” I stuck my tongue out at Cassian who rolled his eyes.

”You mean you broke your fist trying to, princess. I had to nurse you back to health and you were helpless but to fall for my charm.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes and I fought the urge to throw my bread across the table at him. If it wasn't for Feyre I would have. The rest of the stories and tales flowed out and, much to Feyre’s credit, she didn’t falter in the slightest. She interjected at the perfect moments, making jokes that had everyone roaring with laughter. Then the tables were turned onto her and Cassian was asking her about her life. After she had finished she turned to Rhys.

’I accept your offer- to work with you.” And I wanted to scream and cheer. I felt no such joy from Rhys as he started.

”Good because we start tomorrow. Hybern is starting this war and he’s going to bring back Jurian to help him.” I felt a shiver run down my back. Rhys had neglected to tell me that part. In an instant the lighthearted conversation was thrown to the side and Cassian launched into full general mode.

I tried my best to keep up with this new bit of information, how it would throw a wrench into any attempts of a plan. I missed the conversation that followed, mind already trying to figure out the adjustments I would need to make to the map in my office. Armen managed to snap me out of my thinking.

”The Bone Carver might indeed be willing to talk to her.” She pointed a finger at Feyre and I went to argue against the ancient female. Rhy had beaten me to it.

”Your choice, always your choice, Feyre.” and I tried to keep the fear off my face as she answered.

”How bad could it be.” Cassians’ answer had her face pale as a ghost and it was clear dinner was over at that moment. The others reduced to arguing over the semantics and who would be doing what in preparation for their journey to the prison. My eyes suddenly felt very heavy at the sounds of their voices. Azriel’s gentle hand on my shoulder was the sign that the arguing had stopped at all. I didn’t need to be asked a second time and as he flew me back down to the ground below Velaris, I wondered if all of us would make it through the war a second time.

Taglist: @durgenyx @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx

#acomaf #acosf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acowar #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #inner circle #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand #feysand #rhys!sister

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maskedemerald · 8 months

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Heads Up, 7 Up

So I got tagged by @thetruearchmagos and also @pb-dot a few days ago. Its been a busy time and I wasn't sure what I was meant to do but now I do! Excuse my noobishness when it comes to some of these tag games.

Gently tagging: @vaultofqueenorion @squarebracket-trick @jasperygrace @card-queen @akiwitch @cat-esper @wmlittlemore-is-writing No pressure!

Rules for the confused like me: Share 7 lines of writing and tag 7 people.

I'm going to share more because I was tagged twice!

Check out the writing below the cut, I've gone with a scene I was editing for The Last Straw!

Aelfraed woke to a bellow crashing through his dreams. “Aelfraed! Get down here now!” His eyes shot open this time for real after several scattered anxious dreams of what might happen. The shout turned into muffled loud voices not quite loud enough to reach him through the floor. Aelfraed frowned dragging himself out of bed, that was Aelthelric he could just about hear along with the angry raised tones of their father. He couldn’t let Aethelric take the blame for this. He would try, even if Aelfraed didn’t deserve the help. He slipped out of the bedroom and into the corridor, softly stepping down the narrow stairs to the landing overlooking the hallway. Their father stood at the bottom gripping the banister tightly, turned away to face Aethelric. He couldn’t see his face but could imagine the deep scowl and crunched eyebrows along with the tinge of red to his skin. “Don’t try that with me Aethelric. I know he’s here,” his father demanded, folding his arms. Aelfraed stilled, half wanting to escape back up the stairs unnoticed. “Fine okay, he’s here but why are you?” Aethelric said pointedly, “he’s allowed to go places.” “He isn’t allowed to just up and abandon his responsibilities on a whim. I should have kept a closer eye on him,” their father ranted arms waving. “Father, he’s not a child,” Aethelric said with an incredulous expression on his face. “Then he shouldn’t act like one!” His father snapped. “Clearly he can’t be trusted to make the right choices.”

Please consider checking out the Kickstarter if this caught your interest! You can pre-order the e-book for just £1 or get a physical copy for as little as £10. There's just 24 days left! and just over 2 months before release day on the 25th of November!

kickstarter

Hit the K to get to the Kickstarter because Tumblr keeps insisting on turning the link into the video! (Maybe watch the video too if you want more teaser stuff.)

#writing #creative writing #writeblr community #amwriting #mystery #writeblr #The Last Straw Novella #A Curiosity Piqued Series #A Curiosity Piqued #heads up seven up

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nomercymaster11 · 3 months

Text

It's complicated

@GOKUJOUNOMAGURO

W/C: 1,492 | Law x y/n , afab!reader, Heart Pirates daily life

A/N: How do you handle rejection? How do you cope? That's the theme of this series. (More interactions with the Heart Pirates crew too!) Please do comment if you want the next chapter. I hope you guys will like this... :3

The gentle rumbling of the submarine's engines filled the Polar Tang's hallway, providing a comforting background noise. The soft lights along the narrow corridor gave a cozy feeling, and at the end of the hall, a big window showed the calm ocean outside.

Law stood by the window; his attention focused on the marine life gracefully gliding through the clear blue water. It was a mesmerizing sight, yet the emotions brewing inside you threatened to cast a shadow over the beauty of the ocean beyond.

Taking a deep breath, you approached Law, your heart pounding with nervous anticipation. The silence in the hallway hung thick, broken only by the subtle creaking of the submarine as it navigated the ocean depths. The air felt heavy with unspoken words.

"Captain," you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned his head, his gaze meeting yours with a calm and collected demeanor.

The sunlight, filtering through the water's surface, painted intricate patterns on the window. The beams of light cascaded like liquid gold, casting a heartfelt glow in the confined space. The scene seemed to echo the complexity of the emotions swelling within your heart.

"I need to tell you something,"

you confessed, your words lingering in the quiet hallway. Law's expression remained unreadable, and a flicker of hesitation passed through your eyes before you continued.

"I... I have feelings for you... I needed to let you know."

Law's stern gaze softened for a moment, but he remained silent.

"I understand if you don't feel the same way," you continued, your eyes dropping to the floor.

"But I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. It's okay if you don't—"

Law gently interrupted, his voice steady and composed,

"I appreciate your honesty, but I cannot reciprocate those feelings."

A heavy silence enveloped the both of you, the words echoing in the confined space. The sunlight outside the window continued its dance, casting both light and shadow on the scene, as if nature itself mirrored the bittersweet revelation.

"Thank you," You uttered politely.

Your eyes met Law's, a subtle acknowledgment of the conversation that had just unfolded. With a dignified nod, you bowed your head, attempting to maintain composure, concealing the devastation that echoed within you.

The hallway of the Polar Tang seemed to narrow as you walked away.

As you retreated to your station, you crossed paths with Shachi and Penguin.

"Ei! <y/n>," Penguin's enthusiastic shout pierced through the solemn atmosphere. Ignoring him, you continued walking, as if the world around you had faded into insignificance. The duo exchanged puzzled glances; their curiosity piqued by your unusual behavior. They decided to follow you, concerned expressions etched on their faces.

Shachi's voice cut through the silence.

"What's wrong? Why the long face?" Shachi questioned, lightly tapping your left shoulder. In an instant, tears welled up in your eyes, and the intense emotions poured out uncontrollably.

"Oi...!" Penguin exclaimed, guiding you to the side of the corridor.

Shachi followed suit, both concerned for your well-being. Your hands covered your face as you wept, and Penguin, ever watchful, scanned the surroundings for any prying eyes. With gentle gestures, they ushered you towards your room.

The three of you arrived at the front of your door.

"May we come in?" Penguin breaking the silence.

You nodded, closing the door behind you. Shachi and Penguin found seats within your room, while you settled on the edge of your bed.

"Tell us what happened," Penguin urged, his concern evident in his voice.

A heavy pause hung in the air before you began to speak.

"Law rejected me," you confessed, your gaze fixed on the floor, your voice barely audible. Shachi and Penguin exchanged surprised glances, struggling to comprehend the unexpected revelation.

“What do you mean you’ve been rejected?” Shachi asked you.

Penguin subtly motioned to Shachi, silently conveying that he would take charge of the situation.

"You're not thinking of leaving the crew, are you?" Penguin's direct inquiry followed.

"No, of course not... but... I don't know," you answered hesitantly. Your response left them concerned for your emotional state.

"Do you want us to talk to him?" Shachi offered; genuine worry etched across his face.

"Please don't!" you pleaded, locking eyes with Shachi, the horror of the prospect evident in your gaze.

"I'll handle this. I'll be fine. Thank you for the concern," you reassured them with a faint smile.

Penguin sighed heavily. "We shall get going then. He might be looking for us now," he added, offering a comforting pat on your back.

"Don't worry. We're not going to tell him that you talked to us. For now, you rest. We'll cover your station in the meantime," Shachi reassured you, a genuine sincerity in his words.

"I'm really sorry for the trouble, but thank you guys," you expressed your gratitude, the weight on your shoulders slightly lifted by their understanding and support.

Penguin and Shachi walked away from your room; the corridor once again enveloped in the subdued lighting of the submarine. Penguin's fingers absentmindedly brushed his chin as he delved into deep contemplation, his analytical mind trying to unravel the complexities of the situation.

"I don't get it," Penguin muttered, a perplexed furrow forming on his brow.

"We always catch Law looking at her, but why would he reject her?"

His voice carried a mix of confusion and frustration, as if trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. The subtle hum of the submarine's engines seemed to echo the mystery surrounding Law's unexpected decision.

"Ngghhg," Shachi grunted, scratching his head with both of his hands, offering a non-verbal agreement to Penguin's sentiments. His brows furrowed in tandem with his friend's, both lost in thought as they navigated the narrow hallway.

The rhythmic sounds of their footsteps resonated against the metallic walls, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil that lingered in the air. The enigma of Law's actions hung heavily between them, leaving the duo in a state of silent contemplation. As they continued their stroll through the Polar Tang, the captain's motives were still unclear, and this made them feel uneasy. It kind of spoiled the friendly vibe that had been briefly disrupted by what was revealed in your room.

---

Bepo's casual stroll towards the kitchen was abruptly interrupted by Shachi's shout, causing him to turn around with a surprised expression. Penguin and Shachi, sprinting to catch up, reached Bepo, creating a small gathering in the corridor.

"Bepo!" Shachi called out, urgency in his voice. The trio quickly made their way to the nearest round table, their faces etched with concern. Penguin took the lead in explaining the afternoon's events between you and Law.

"Captain did what?!"

Bepo's eyes widened with disbelief, almost screaming at the revelation. Shachi shot him a stern look, his finger pressed against his lips, signaling for Bepo to keep his voice down.

"That sounds bad," Bepo remarked, reclining in his chair, arms crossed, and a visible frown etched on his face.

"Bepo," Penguin leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table, "did you see Law a while ago?" he inquired.

"Yeah, right before I got here in the kitchen. He went back to his office," Bepo responded.

"Did you notice anything about him?" Shachi questioned.

"Now that you mention it," Bepo paused, taking a sip of his cold water, "he seemed in deep thought."

"No, he's always like that!" Shachi retorted with a hint of frustration.

"But he seemed sad," Bepo added, his observation hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.

Penguin grunted, placing his right hand on his forehead, a gesture of helplessness.

"He's technically got that poker face every day," he added, acknowledging Law's habitual stoicism.

The Polar Tang bore witness to the trio's hushed conversation. The enigma surrounding Law's emotions deepened, their faces cast in shadows that mirrored the uncertainty of the situation.

Penguin's deep voice cut through the quiet atmosphere.

"There's nothing we could do, for now. But let's keep an eye out for the two," he suggested, a tone of helplessness echoing in his words. The weight of the unspoken emotions surrounding Law and your revelation lingered in the air.

"And Bepo..." Penguin's gaze shifted towards the polar bear mink, a sense of seriousness etched on his face.

"Don't spill this conversation to anyone."

Bepo's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected directive.

"Why only me? And not Shachi?" he questioned, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Because you have the tendency to overshare with anyone," Shachi chimed in, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Fiinnnee!" Bepo sighed, reluctantly agreeing to keep the conversation confidential. The camaraderie between the three crewmates added a touch of humor to the otherwise somber atmosphere.

After the conversation concluded, the trio dispersed, each returning to their respective stations. The corridor, once filled with subdued voices, returned to a quiet solitude, leaving the unresolved tension to echo through the metal walls of the submarine.

CHAPTER 2

#law x you #law x reader #law x y/n #law x female reader #one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #law one piece #heart pirates #bepo one piece #shachi one piece #penguin one piece #one piece fanfiction #I've been thinking about this story for so long. I need to write it down NOW.

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 8 months

Text

A Perfect Score - Chapter 9 - Thawed Out | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: The finals loom, and you and Aemond have to navigate and come to terms with what the future might look like after | Word Count: 7.9k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: *deep breath* swearing, innuendo, teasing, trauma from a past relationship, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, dirty talk, pussy slapping, fingering, degradation, praise, orgasm denial, cum play, doggy style, choking, spit kink, aftercare

A/N: I don't want to let go of my babies and I can't believe this is the penultimate chapter😭

Sleeping on a bed with no bed sheets felt incredibly silly.

So instead Aemond had dragged his feet to the sofa, where the long-forgotten blanket was and cocooned you both into it on the bed.

Unlike the hotel, where you and Aemond were up all night, not able to keep your hands off each other. Here, in the dim light of your apartment, quiet, with rain tapping at the window, you both basked in the afterglow of the intimacy you gained from just having sex once.

The sex that consummated this relationship.

Which was still something you needed to ask him about.

Helaena had told you as much, he wasn't one for relationships after Alys.

But he told you he loved you.

Surely that was different.

You were both so exhausted, each of you fell asleep in the position Aemond tucked you in as. His arm slung over your waist to your middle, his palm holding one of your breasts in such an overtly non-sexual way, and just as a means of holding.

And like that you stayed, pressed together.

Fucking spooning. Something you never would have imagined you and Aemond doing a few months before.

You almost jumped out of your skin when in the early morning your phone buzzed under the bare pillow, sounding so much louder than usual.

"Seven fucking Hells, that scared the shit out of me"

You heard Aemond rumble low in his chest behind you. His voice was thick with grogginess, but it was clear he'd been awake some time, as his finger continued to trace the skin of your arm like he'd been doing it for hours. Now in an awake state, your skin ripples with goosebumps.

You huff a laugh at him, rub your eyes and pull your phone out, greeted with a text, or rather a whole wall of them, from El. Asking if you're okay given you tried to call her about four or five times in one go.

You smile at the messages, quickly typing a reply and sending it off, the limbs that are exposed to the air prickling with a chill.

"Your mattress…" Aemond starts, his forearm over his eyes when you turn to him, "...is so fucking uncomfortable"

In good comedic timing when you shuffle closer to him you're greeted with a spring in your side and a loud squeak.

"Missing your memory foam, king-size goodness?" You prod, pressing a kiss to his jaw before resting your head on his shoulder.

"Hm" he smiles, all in good fun, tugging you closer with an arm around your waist.

"Hope you don't mind me sleeping over"

You look up at him through your lashes, lips pulling up at the sides at the sight of him, still half naked, hair tousled in loose waves.

"And what was I going to do? Cast you back out onto the streets as soon as you said I love you?"

"Alright, alright. No need to be sarky about it" he smiles, thumbing some hair from your face and behind your ear.

"As if you're not sarky all the time" you smile back.

It feels so nice, beyond actual words, to be with him intimately like this. Just cuddling. Unabashedly together.

Which reminds you to bring it up before you leave for the day.

"How did you know where I live?" You ask.

Aemond flushes a bit, piquing your curiosity as you sit up, pulling the blanket to your chest to cover your nudity.

"Um, I didn't?" He replies, slightly embarrassed, "not specifically anyway"

You cock your head, "you didn't? So how-"

You grin widely, mischief glimmering in your eyes as you see how embarrassed he is.

"Did you knock on stranger's doors? Trying to find me?"

"Shut up" he groans, the flush on his cheeks extending to the tips of his ears as he turns away.

"Aw, Aemond!"

"Don't. It was so fucking embarrassing"

"Don't be embarrassed, it's cute!"

He looks at you again, still flushed but with an unamused expression.

"I'm not cute"

You press your lips together, trying not to smile or laugh.

It almost makes you forget about what happened. Especially when his face softens like that, his eyes half shut looking at you in a way that makes your insides flutter.

Aemond inhales sharply.

"Are you going to tell Rhaenys?" He asks.

He doesn't specify what. But both of you know.

You bite your lip in thought. In truth, you'd been wondering all night if you should.

"No" you say quietly with a slight shake of your head, "No, I…checked the terms of my contract and as much as I hate to say it, Otto is right…

"I have to complete my contract. If I want to get paid and signed again anyway"

Aemond sighs, playing with the ends of your hair.

"Doesn't mean you can't tell her"

"I know but, I just don't see the point" you say, shivering when his touch bristles against your skin, "Truthfully I was even torn about going to anyone with the proof…because I know it wouldn't just hurt Otto, it would-"

You pause, looking down into your lap.

It would hurt Aemond. His siblings. And Alicent as well.

"Hey" he whispers, taking your chin softly in his grasp and turning you to meet his gaze, "We'll be alright"

His concerned look. Softened voice.

You swallow thickly.

Even if you did go to the press. Aemond wouldn't hate you for it.

For some reason that stings a bit more than the other way around.

Still. You can't bring yourself to bring any kind of distress to him or his family, just because of what Otto did.

Even though it has bruised your confidence.

"Come here"

You force a tiny smile to your face, going to lay next to him as his arm lays outstretched. Aemond snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you on top of him, one hand stroking your hair in a motion of tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“Do you really want to quit skating?” you ask carefully.

Aemond sighs, thoughtfully, “I think so. I want to do something different with my life. Go to King's Landing Uni or something...and off my own back as well not just because I'm some bigwig's son”

You can imagine that.

A smile makes its way to your face, imagining Aemond in his classes, perhaps with some reading glasses on, frantically taking notes.

“Why, will you miss me?” he asks, and you can hear the smirk in his tone, without looking at him.

“Maybe” you reply, with the same playful inflection, “I like skating with you”

Aemonds hands drop to cup your waist, just above the curve of your hips. It makes you realise, that both of you are just completely bare, unabashedly, together.

He laughs, “I can still throw you around if you like”

You raise your head, pulling a face at the horrendous joke with eyebrows furrowed. You’re greeted pleasantly though, with the image of Aemond’s eyes crinkling up as he laughs.

Playfully swatting his chest, “You’re foul”

Pulling the sheets around your sides, you pull yourself up to straddle him, hands running over his taut stomach, feeling the familiar pull of lust inside that Aemond seems to feel as well.

With his hands still on your hips, his gaze glances over you, taking in every little bit of skin.

Until he looks down, looking all small again.

“What’s wrong?” you ask carefully, one hand on the side of his face.

He covers yours with his, taking it away from his face to his chest.

“Sorry, it’s just…” he starts, swallowing in between nervously, like he’s having a hard time expressing exactly what he wants to say. You just sit, listening intently. Waiting for him to be ready.

“She was always…you know…on top”

Your lips part in shock, wanting to say something but not knowing what on earth to even pull together in response.

The only thing you can do, is apologise and get off him.

For reminding him how it feels to be small…and manipulated.

“Aemond, I-fuck, I’m sorry-”

“No”

He keeps you there, his fingers curling over your flesh, tugging your core to his length, but his gaze is concentrated on your face, not on any other part of you.

“Stay like this, please…” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, and his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to swallow over the lump that forms.

“But, Aemond-”

“She’d never let me” he mutters, blinking up at you, “I think it was one of her ways of controlling me…” he glances over your skin reverently, his thumbs tracing your torso, the sensation of his hands gliding over you making you shiver.

“It’s different with you” warmth blooms as he says that, “It could never feel that way with you”

It feels like you’re teetering over the edge when he says that. Tummy fluttering, with adrenaline burning through your veins.

Your eyes drop to your hand that’s flat over his heart, able to feel the thrum of it beating beneath your touch. Gently, as if any sudden movement will startle him, your fingers run down his torso, watching his muscles clench and flex beneath his pale skin.

He doesn’t stop you.

He hardens underneath you, hissing with pleasure when your hand wraps around his cock, pumping him slowly, his neck contracts as desperate whines slip from his mouth.

“Please - don’t tease me, Princess”

You look at him with a mischievous glimmer, his tone igniting something buried deep. Something barely exposed. Fingers tighten around his rapidly hardening length, achingly ready. Shuddered, frantic little breaths spill from his lips.

The amount of trust he is affording you right now, does not go unnoticed.

And as much as you want to tease him though, you cannot find it in yourself to, when he’s being so vulnerable with you.

Later maybe.

“Alright” you smile, now having stroked him to full hardness, his length swollen, aching for fulfillment.

“But only because you asked so nicely”

It was easy to get dressed and get everything together, except for Aemond. Once the morning had passed, your old bedroom hot and humid with sex, Aemond was reduced to wearing his dried and musty smelling clothes he’d been sodden in the previous day.

It was still drizzly outside as you pulled the door shut, having left a note inside for El when she inevitably got back from her Dad’s. But luckily, Aemond had parked his car down the street, so there was no need to walk.

You smile somewhat at the notion that Aemond only had an idea of where you lived. Hastily parked his car and knocked on every single door, just to find your apartment.

There's those flutters again.

Not unlike Aemond, his car is pristine. Spotless inside and out. Not that you expected any less.

If it was any other day, it'd be a normal drive.

But your nerves were higher than they'd ever been before. And Aemond had noticed the incessant bouncing of your leg.

The hand that was previously on the gear stick shifts to your knee, squeezing gently.

"I called Mum. Otto isn't there. And he won't come back, okay?"

You look over, seeing his gaze solely on the road, but his thumb circling the inner part of your leg.

"You sure?..."

He nods, "Course. It's Mum's house, not his"

Point taken.

Your thumbs overlap one another repeatedly, nerves still nibbling at your insides.

“Sorry” you mutter under your breath, “I just don’t want to see him”

Aemond laughs, “You think any of us do?” his hand briefly leaves your knee to change gears, slowing down as the security gate to his house opens with a click.

Seeing the house again, and you hate to say it, but it sets you on edge. It was only yesterday you left, but it seems like a lifetime. And after what happened, it’s like returning to something that won’t be the same, and you won’t know until you’re inside if that’s a good thing or not.

Ping.

Your phone vibrates in your lap.

Was the information suitable? - L.S

Aemond looks over briefly, having heard your phone go off, but his gaze doesn’t linger, letting you tell him if you want to in your own time.

You sigh, thumbs hovering over the screen.

“It’s Larys…” you mumble, swallowing over the lump that forms.

It’s Aemond turn to sigh as he pulls in and pulls up the handbrake.

“Probably wondering why it’s not hit the press yet” he muses, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“Why doesn’t he just leak it to the press?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed at Aemond, who returns your question with a shrug.

“I imagine it’s more newsworthy if it doesn’t come from him” he replies, rubbing his temple on the marred side with his fingers, like he has a headache, “It’d cause quite the stir. One of Otto’s employees exposing his wrongdoings…”

Aemond always knows everyone’s ulterior motive, it seems.

You can’t tell if that��s a skill, or a curse. Knowing what everyone is thinking. Being able to guess why a person finds you useful.

You swipe the message away, planning on simply ignoring him.

“You’re not going to reply?” he asks.

“No” you shake your head, “No, I won’t”

Even though Aemond had prepared you in the car, that Otto would most certainly not be inside, nor would ever return, it was still nerve-wracking to step through the doors again and back into the almost clinical feeling of the Targaryen home.

To your surprise though, when you stepped across the threshold, without any screams or cries of relief from Aemond’s family, you felt somewhat calm. You imagine Aemond had pre-warned them to not make such a big deal out of it, and for that, you were extremely grateful.

There were various murmurs from the kitchen, speaking in low voices and obviously unaware of your arrival.

Aemond’s hand on your arm made you jump, you were so distant, the trauma of the day’s past, and what it had all meant, flashed quickly past your eyes.

“We don’t have to practice today, okay?” he said quietly, “do you want a drink?”

You nodded, following him to the kitchen, “I’d also like to talk to your Mum…about everything, if that’s okay”

He seemed confused, but nodded anyway, wondering what it might be you’d want to speak to his Mum about without him.

But he didn’t prod for more information.

In the kitchen, all the children that were home were gathered at the breakfast table, speaking to Alicent in a hushed manner, both Helaena and Aegon’s brows were furrowed. Aegon’s in anger, and Helaena’s with worry. But both softened when their violet, sharp eyes clapped on you in the doorway.

“Gods - you’re back -” Helaena nearly tripped over herself sliding off her stool and making for you, throwing her arms around your neck like she thought you were really, truly gone. It briefly knocks the air out of you, hands hanging in the air. Aemond can’t help but press his lips together, trying not to laugh.

“We missed you” Helaena says with a relieved smile once she pulls away.

“Some of us” Aegon jokes, a smirk pulling at his lips, not revealing his teeth.

You scrunch your nose at him, pulling a face, knowing it’s all in good fun.

Alicent’s sad brown eyes don’t change, as she forces a reassuring smile to her face, “Are you alright?”

You feel Aemond’s hand on the small of your back. Reassuring but at the same time, lighting a fire in your belly.

How does his mere touch do that?

“I’m fine” you say quickly, “I was wondering if we could speak…”

Alicent nods, leaning against the kitchen island.

“...in private”

Quietly, the Targaryen siblings begin to vacate the kitchen. Aemond throws you a small smile, to let you know he is not far if you need him, before being practically dragged out by Helaena, who doesn’t do a very good job of whispering too quietly, ‘did you tell her, did you tell her?’. Only for Aemond to sigh and grumble, ‘Yes, leave me alone’.

Once alone, Alicent slides a mug of tea across the counter to you, which you accept, holding your hands around it, with a smile, looking down at the way the steam ribbons up from the scalding liquid.

“I believe you are owed an apology” Alicent starts.

Shaking your head, “It’s not you who needs to apologise. Not in the slightest”

“In any case” she smiles, like a mother would do, “I apologise”

Alicent inhales deeply, “It is not the first time my father has exercised his power over women” she muses, a mug of coffee in one of her slender fingers, “but I dare say I hope it is the last”

Your fingernails tap on the mug.

“It troubles me, what has been done done to Floris” you start, broaching the subject as carefully as you can, “since I am close to her family I…feel somewhat responsible”

Alicent listens, tucking a stray wavy lock behind her ear, pink lips pressed together.

“Please don’t misunderstand me, I don’t ask this of you, it’s directed at him, but-” you sigh, realising you’re rambling, “-I’d like for him to pay for her medical expenses associated with the accident”

You don’t dare look up at Alicent, knowing how soft, gentle and kind she is, but also fearing she may see you differently.

“In my view, it’s the least he can do, for what happened to her”

“I completely agree” Alicent says quickly, immediately trying to quell any fear of repercussions for asking what you have.

She smiles warmly when you lock eyes, “I do” she reassures once again, her well-manicured nails tapping against her mug, “I’ll call my father tonight. Give him the terms”

You nod, sparing Alicent a small smile, a grateful one.

“Thank you”

After a moment, Alicent sighs sitting down on the stool her daughter was previously propped upon.

“Aemond has expressed he wishes to leave the industry, after the championship” Alicent says, with a layer of sadness to her tone, her deep brown eyes staring as a blank part of the room. As if she is trying, with all her will, not to fall apart.

“I must say I cannot blame him, given all that has happened” she adds, “a small part of me feels terrible, that I might have forced him subconsciously or not into skating, just for him to…come to hate it”

You look down at your mug, knowing she’d see right through you if you lied and said he did enjoy it. Especially when he’d expressed as such in confidence, that he didn’t.

“He’s told me he wants to go to University” Alicent continues.

You breathe relief, that she already knows. That Aemond had already broached this subject.

“Yes, he told me as well”

Alicent smiles at you, warmly.

“I can see you both like each other very much”

Understatement of the year, you think, with a flushed smile.

“Whatever he wants to do, I’ll support” you say, with conviction in your words.

And all his mother has to say in reply is, “thank you”.

The next few days at the Targaryen household were nothing short of strange, in the best way possible.

Without Otto's looming and domineering presence, they seemed much more like the family you saw that evening after the semi-finals. A well-rounded unit.

Happy.

Aegon socialised in the living spaces a lot more, and sometimes watched you and Aemond practise. Though most of the time he'd crinkle his nose at how affectionate his younger brother was being, pretending to gag.

Helaena's relationship with Alicent, previously a little strained, had even improved.

You'd often see them in the kitchen, flicking through the magazine for skating outfits, as Helaena had expressed wanting to enter the Singles competition next year.

It made you happy to see them thrive.

Aegon distancing himself from skating, working on which of his side-hustles he could turn into a proper career.

Helaena pursuing Singles.

And Aemond, though he'd expressed a desire to leave the industry after the final, with the way he approached training now, you'd be mistaken for thinking he loved it.

Larys had tried to email a few more times, wondering why the truth hadn't yet hit the press.

So you blocked him.

And Otto as well. Not like he'd ever try and reach out.

Evenings in the Targaryen household without him were pleasant, almost unbearably so.

Eating at the table was enjoyable.

No tension.

Just laughter and smiles, and Aemond's large hand wrapped over your leg, just above your knee, in a way that never failed to make you squeeze them together.

You'd never wanted someone so incessantly this bad before.

Truthfully, that part sort of daunted you.

To be so overtly, unapologetically sexual with someone, was very new for you. Despite having had conquests, even boyfriends, in the past, nothing felt quite as good as laying down the borders, and unleashing this newly discovered part of you.

Not like Aemomd minded either.

In fact, he certainly didn't.

In the nights since your return, you'd barely stayed in the guest room Alicent originally gave you. Instead, Aemond had invited you into his.

It was largely how you'd imagined it.

Spotless, well-dusted, with various books stacked up, all neat with the spines bended perfectly and uncracked. Noticeably, ordered alphabetically. With various subjects. Philosophy. History. Something he'd expressed interest in when he'd searched King's Landing Uni's Prospectus.

His room felt warm, with earthy tones, and pops of black, much like his clothing.

He explained that although there was a dog bed in his room, Vhagar never came up here anymore.

"Dumb thing can't get up the marble stairs"

Which you'd laughed at.

And then called him 'cute' again when he confessed that sometimes he would carry her, as large and awkward as she was to hold, all the way up to his room when she'd start whining at the bottom of the stairs.

He didn't like being called 'cute'.

But tolerated it.

After training tired you both out, learning the difficult routine for the final, you and Aemond had climbed the staircase groggily and spent more than a few moments in his en-suite.

'Showering'.

It felt wholly intimate, freshly showered, laying in his bed and wearing one of his shirts, which seemed to envelop your body in its entirety to your mid thigh.

Felt nice.

Like a relationship.

It was a bit daunting, in the best way possible.

His bed smelled just like him. His sandalwood aftershave that you were able to catch a whiff of whenever you practised together.

With his pillow tucked under your chin, you smiled at your phone as the messages from El were piling in.

Your eyes flit over to where Aemond is. Standing in front of the mirror in the en-suite. He's pressing a cold cloth to the marred side of his face, where he still sometimes feels a small bit of pain, despite having had his glycerol injections not that long ago.

Before the tour.

He never spoke about his pain. Which was very 'Aemond' of him, you thought.

Fucking bitch. Using that against you.

Your face heats instantly.

"What you smiling about?" Aemond asks, padding over in just his sweatpants, tied at the front, and absolutely nothing else. He slides into his bed next to you with a satisfied groan, hand around your middle to pull you onto your side.

You smile, shooting off a quick message along the lines of 'shut your whore mouth' to El, before turning your head to Aemond, tucking your hips back against his.

"Just talking to El"

His hand squeezes your hip, "Stop. That" he warns, with a deadpan expression.

"What?" You ask innocently, through your eyelashes, trying to bite back a smile.

"Don't you 'what' me. You know exactly what you're doing"

"I have no idea what you're talking about" you smirk, resting your head on the pillow facing the TV.

"Hm" he clicks his tongue in false-annoyance, grabbing the remote. Netflix floods the screen, auto-playing the first thing that comes on, which happens to be Mean Girls. He simply wrinkles his brows and states he's never seen it, trying to ignore the way he's gained a semi-erection merely from the movement of your ass against him.

As the movie progresses, your interest is quickly redirected to your phone, followed by a yawn.

"Am I that boring?" He smirks, his face propped on his palm.

You show him the screen, "been watching some of your Mum's old performances"

He raises an eyebrow, "oh yeah?"

You nod, scrubbing to a particular video, "This one is my favourite. The one where she competed at Highgarden, and she wore green. Pissed the Tyrells right off" you snicker.

Aemond fights the urge to roll his eye, "The Tyrells are a delicate bunch" he muses.

You watch the video of Alicent while Aemond's head moves back to the movie. She was much younger, gracefully owning the ice in her dark green outfit. Looking so happy, so proud of herself.

And it was her last performance.

She was already pregnant by then.

You're struck then with the notion of how similar Alicent and Aegon actually look, with the exception of the colouring, their features are dead on.

Aemond on the other hand, has much sharper features. And a part of you wonders where he gets that from.

Perhaps this elusive sister?

"That is so dumb" Aemond muses.

"What is?"

He scoffs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Netflix recommended this one first cos it's got a scene in it where the main character says 'it's October 3rd'"

You furrow your brows, "And that's dumb why?.."

He gives you an unamused look, clicking on the lock screen of his phone and showing you today's date.

His smirk quirks when he sees how you dissolve into a fit of laughter though. Something in his gaze as he looks down at you, makes you feel as if you're entirely on show, in the nicest possible way.

"What?" You smile with a flushed expression, noticing how he's not looked away.

"Nothing" he shakes his head, "just nice seeing you in my bed"

You tease him, wrinkling your nose, "Don't be so soft, doesn't suit you"

"Oh yeah? What would you prefer then?" He asks, face lighting up into his slightly arrogant, cocky little smirk, his arm tightening over your waist, "for me to be rough?"

You press your lips together and also, unconsciously, your thighs, feeling heat rise from your belly.

But you jut out your chin, trying to hide how warm you suddenly feel.

"I don't think you've got it in you"

His expression manages to change. Instantly from cocky to stoic, serious. His lips flat into a line, eyelids hooded and utterly humourless.

How he usually looked when you first knew him.

You shiver as his hand drops, deft fingers clutching the hem of his own shirt at your thighs and tugs it up until he reaches the hem of your underwear.

He never drops his expression.

He looks almost annoyed. Angry.

So much so you fear that you've actually said something wrong.

"Aemond-"

"Shh.." he interrupts, his other hand hooked around and resting around your neck, pressing the sides, "I'm not in the mood for words"

You gasp as he practically rips your underwear down your legs, not waiting for you to assist him in lifting your hips, he just pulls forcefully until he shucks them off the bed.

The previous prodding warmth in your belly is stoked to a full roaring flame as he reaches up again, dipping between your thighs to cup your pussy in his palm, swiping two digits against your wetness.

It almost makes you jump, pressing your lips together to stifle a moan and your eyes slipping shut as he teases your sensitive bud.

"I'm going to make you regret saying that" he mused, his breath hot against your neck as he continues to tease you, never really dipping beneath your folds to really touch you. Much to your annoyance.

The sound of your slick moving against his fingers has an embarrassed heat rising to your face.

"You see, Princess? How wet you are for me already?" He mutters deeply, "that's your body talking, not your mouth. Just as it should be"

It's so lewd and domineering, the way he speaks, and how easily he can go from 'watching a movie innocent and cuddling in bed' to 'you don't speak until I give you permission'.

You don't know if you've ever been so turned on in your life.

"I don't want to hear a fucking sound from you. Understood?"

Your tummy flutters with anticipation. Like he's dragging you to a place you've never been before.

You nod, no words leaving your lips.

"That's what I fucking thought" your body jolts properly this time, having to sink your teeth into your lip to contain a whine as he gives a firm, hard slap directly to your core.

"Slut" he whispers, "Are you my little slut?"

Your head is empty. Swirling with desire like being in a sauna. All you have the capacity to do is nod to the best of your ability.

"Good girl" he praises, making your stomach roll and breathing hasten.

You desperately tried not to make a single sound as Aemond's digits sank to the hilt inside you, cooking upwards at a new angle with your back against his chest like this. And yet a tiny, miniscule gasp still managed its way past your lips.

If he noticed it, he didn't say anything.

He just started to fuck you with his fingers, quickly, his other fingers tightening around your neck, to watch the hedonistic look on your face.

It was hard to keep quiet.

He dragged his nose over your cheek, making you shiver, "This is mine" he said gruffly, increasing the pace of him pistoning in and out of you.

Not you are mine.

This is mine.

The lewd sounds of your wetness coating his fingers and hand were the only thing you could hear, bar the soft pants of his breath in your ear.

It felt nice to hand over some semblance of control once in a while.

You feel your climax approach embarrassingly quickly, his hand making contact with your clit with every sharp push inside you.

"I can feel you squeezing my fingers - you're going to cum, aren't you -"

Your chest heaves, pleasured tears pricking at your eyes, nodding quickly as he has made it clear that he will not accept a single word or sound from you.

With a displeased grimace, you whine at the loss of contact as he pulls out quickly, robbing you of the impending orgasm loosening the tension in your gut.

"Fucking slut" he grunts, another harsh slap to your pussy jolts you again, sparking pleasured pain through your bud to your core.

You're barely able to bring yourself up from that lull before your body is dragged further down the bed with Aemond's hips on yours. A bolt of arousal burns through you quickly looking up at him on your back, seeing the determined and fixed expression on his face.

"If it gets too much, tell me"

It's brief, his caring nature, but said through such a stoic look still manages to make the ache in your core even stronger.

You nod.

Before anything else, your breath is caught in your chest as his large hands easily wrap around your wrists and push them down to the mattress, either side of your head.

"Keep them there, where I can see them. Don't move"

Completely lost in the feeling of him looming over you like this, his broad shoulders making him from this angle making him feel larger, his muscles hands holding yours down like it's the easiest thing in the world, you completely forget to reply.

"Understood?" He prods, with a low, warning tone.

You nod a few times, swallowing loudly.

"Good"

His hands slide down, taking note that you're doing as he says and keeping your hands beside your head. You hold back a whimper when his large palms cup your breasts, his fingers tugging near-painfully at the flesh, in an action that only makes your nipples harden to his touch.

Your eyes rake over him, now glazed with lust, pupils blown wide. His form is an absolute marvel to look at, lithe, slender at his middle and a soft sheen on his pecs as he moves in the low light. His bedroom only lit by one warm bedside lamp.

He looks so good.

And your tummy flutters with delight, that's he's all yours.

And you're all his.

In this light, the scar that runs down the side of his left side is even softer, calm and flattened since he'd taken care to ease the redness of it beforehand.

He only has a small smattering of hair on his chest, the rest of it underneath his naval, leading temptingly down past the waistline of his sweatpants, darker than the rest of his hair only slightly.

It makes your mouth water.

He doesn't take his shirt off you.

And there's something so dirty and possessive about him fucking you only wearing his shirt.

Like he wants to see you fall apart with nothing but him around you.

Your heartbeat hums through you. Your core aching with desperation for his attention, clit now feeling utterly abandoned, you can't help but move your hips for any contact, even if it doesn't do anything to quell the need.

His hands come to his sweatpants, thumbing them over his hips, "I want to hear you, princess"

Eyes wide with panic, you look over at the closed door just to check.

Aemond beats you to it.

"Door's locked. Hel and Mum are out. Aeg is downstairs"

You're not sure if that relieves you or not.

"I want this to last. And if you do, then you'll do what I say" he nods, one eyebrow raised, questioning you.

So you nod, a blush creeping up to your cheeks from your neck. All prickly and hot, making your skin all over feel sensitive.

You don't know if you'll ever get over the feeling that overcomes you when you see Aemond naked. You'd seen him entirely naked for the first time at the hotel, where you were forced to share a room.

You remember thinking then that it's a crime he has to wear clothes. He looks so good with them off. He is almost statuesque, as if carved from stone with wiry muscle lingering beneath his pale skin.

Now seeing him, your heart flutters faster seeing where the trail of his darkened hair now leads to. Framing the base of his cock, where his thick and long length, hardened and swollen after teasing you, stands proudly with the tip nearly prodding at his navel.

If you'd been allowed to speak, you still would have been speechless.

His knee knocks against yours softly, wordlessly demanding your legs to widen, so he can see your dripping pussy presented before him.

You almost whine in impatience when Aemond strokes himself, not needing to, but smirking down at you and watching the way your eyes never leave him.

Teasing you on purpose.

It makes you want to touch him, knowing you can't.

"You gonna be good for me?" He asks, his voice dropping an octave lower.

Sucking in a breath, you nod, blinking up at him.

Hands finding your bare hips, he chuckles darkly, gaze trained down on you, "you just want me to use you, don't you, princess?"

You observe the way his eye almost glimmers when he says that. The air becomes thick the closer his naked body gets to yours, it's almost suffocating.

"Go on. Say it"

You swallow, suddenly thinking you don't know how to speak. And your voice comes out shaky.

"Yes - yes, I want you to use me -"

You feel a bit embarrassed saying it, but when he taps his swollen cockhead, leaking with arousal against your slick pussy, it's the last thing on your mind.

Your eyes flit down to where he's holding his length, the veins that lay thick on his skin leading from his wrist up to his forearm-

"Yes, what"

What.

Meeting his smug gaze, he can see the shocked expression on your face. Your heart hammers so quickly in your chest, it's like he can hear it.

Fuck.

He'd seen El's message.

There's no inhibitions, just him.

"Yes - daddy - I want you to use me -"

If Aemond could cum from those words alone, he would.

But for the sake of not feeling cruel, and robbing you of an orgasm, he holds back and simply smirks. Not able to hide the ego boost it gives him, with the tip of one side of his lips.

Without another word, he teases his cockhead through your folds only once, not even giving you time to contemplate he might tease you even more, before leaning forward and spearing you onto his cock, sinking fully inside you in one, surprisingly quick motion.

It catches you off guard, the sudden stretch, the sensation of being filled so quickly. Aemond's fingers dig into your hips, as if for dear life, and pulls you to him, as if there's any way you could be closer.

Aemond simply grunts, " - fuck, baby, you're so tight around my cock - you like being filled like that? - open your eyes for me -"

You do, with effort, as he says, rewarded by the way he looks so happy with himself, sank to the hilt inside of you like that.

“Keep them on me, princess. I don’t like asking twice”

Excitement has you tightening around him again, a fire burning bright in your belly at this dynamic. Sure, there’d been previous partners. They’d done similar things, talked dirty, tried to be overtly dominant in bed. But it always felt forced. And yes, you played it up, tried to take some enjoyment out of it.

But this was completely natural. And it was thrilling.

Barely giving you enough time to adjust to his size, making good on his word, Aemond pulls all the way out, his gaze looking between you to watch how you coat his dick in arousal and pushes all the way back in with a harsh smack. And then another.

Your moans come out almost strained at the pace Aemond sets, each one punctuated with a low grunt, the large expanse of his hands grasping tightly at your hips for leverage to fuck himself into you quickly.

It makes your head feel like it’s full of water, unable to think.

The sensation of his thick length stretching your walls makes you briefly forget, and your hands drag up his forearms and grip tightly.

“No” Aemond grunts, his hands leaving your hips to pin your wrists back to the bed, pressing hard as he continues the relentless snapping of his hips, “Don’t touch - I’m the one who gets to you touch you - that’s it -”

You don’t mean to.

You really don’t mean to.

But you whine at the demand, wanting nothing more than to touch him, feel him.

And there’s that expression again.

"Fucking brat - rolling your eyes at me -" he gruffs, pulling out of you swiftly and flipping you over onto your front, barely giving you time to think. Pain blooms on your ass as Aemond's palm makes contact with it, your core throbbing with want again now that he's not inside you anymore.

"Aemond-"

"Did I say you could talk?" He barks back in a commanding voice, making your lips press together again. You feel his cock heavy on the curve of your ass as he leans over you, one hand under you to prop you up onto your knees with your legs still squeezed together.

"Forgetful as well?" He asks, his other hand snaking around your neck to lift your face to him, "I don't think that's what you called me earlier, was it? - Open -"

His fingers grip your face hard, prompting you, and with a flushed face you obey, parting your lips and moaning low when you feel him spit directly onto your waiting tongue. It sends a bolt of humiliation through you that throbs right where you need him most, where he's so close.

You swallow without being prompted.

"See, so you can be good for me" he muses, a smirk playing on his lips as he shoves your head down into the pillows, leaning back to admire the colour he's made on your ass cheeks in the shape of his hand.

You're thankful for the pillows as he plunges back into you again, muffling your choked moan into the fabric, the angle making it all feel so much deeper than before. Sure, he'd fucked you in the dressing room bent over the vanity. But with your legs pressed together and your spine curved upwards, Aemond hits that sweet spot inside you with infuriating accuracy.

"Fuck - can't believe we've not fucked in my bed before - I'm tempted to keep you here, just like this -"

You can't help but moan at his words, as loud as you will allow yourself to with Aegon still lurking somewhere in the house. You have to admit, the memory foam comes in handy, you can barely hear anything but the slap of moist skin hitting each other and Aemond's low groans of pleasure.

Your gut tightens dramatically, ready to burst at any time. Pressing your lips together, with hands fisting the bedsheets, you try to move your hips in accordance with his, craving extra friction where you can.

Slap.

"Such a needy slut - making such a mess on me -" his gaze is trapped to when you are joined, his hips making your ass ripple with every harsh thrust. Watching in pure adoration as your arousal makes a creamy ring at the base of his cock.

"Just my little fucktoy aren't you, princess - fuck - I can feel you squeezing me, baby -" he speaks like he's struggling to hold breath, constantly using his energy to push back inside you over and over.

"Say it, baby - come on -"

" - mm, fuck I'm gonna cum - please, daddy, I need it -"

It falls from your lips so naturally, not able to handle another denial to hit your peak, mind clouded with desire and need the more his fat cockhead bullies your g-spot.

Aemond's hips become sloppy, clearly arriving at the precipice himself, though he'd hate to see how badly he's losing control right now.

" - ah, fuck - princess -"

You swear your vision blurs for a good few seconds as your orgasm harder than you swear you have in your life, warmth flooding your lips, sending shockwaves straight to your bud. It's so intense, you're not even able to make a sound, just completely overwhelmed as Aemond continues to pound into you.

" fuck-"

You gasp at the loss of him, moaning breathily when you feel warm ropes of cum on your backside, painting your skin with his creamy spend.

The only sound he makes, is a strained whine that lasts a few seconds, but it's the prettiest sound you've ever heard.

Your body feels almost oversensitive, as Aemond drags his cock back down over your ass, painting a line with what remains and slowly pushes one more time into you with a lewd, wet sound, smearing his cum over your bud before he does. He's softened slightly since, but the stretch still makes you whimper, your core feeling utterly used and overstimulated.

He regains his breath for a moment once he pulls out, the mattress rising as he gets off it. Your eyelashes flutter against the pillow, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart and the trembling aftershocks of your orgasm still ringing through you.

So it makes you jolt when you feel a warm washcloth on you.

"Sorry.." he whispers in a softened voice, continuing until he feels you are entirely clean, before sinking beneath the bedsheets and covering you with them.

Aemond quickly falls back into his normal self, the usual caring, soft and loving person you’ve grown to love. Your heavy eyes open to look up at him, laying beside you in bed, his hand stroking your hair and tucking a wayward strand behind your ear.

You smile at the flush on his pale cheeks.

“Too much?” he asks, a flash of insecurity passing his face.

You shake your head quickly, “No, not at all” you answer softly, pressing a kiss to the cleft of his nose to reassure him, “If it was I would have said”

Feeling a little better, he spares an embarrassed smile that warms your heart, looking down at your intertwined fingers.

“So” he speaks after a beat, biting back a grin when your eyes meet again, “daddy, huh?”

You screw up your face, “Shut up” your voice muffled by your hand over your face, trying to hide your burning cheeks. Aemond simply laughs, pressing a surprisingly chaste kiss to your forehead.

He teases you about it for the rest of the evening.

That is until you clamber atop him later on, and show him that two can play at that game.

He can’t deny it though, he loves that too.

Shockingly, you and Aemond manage to part from his bed every now and then to actually practise the routine.

The routine was perfected, and you’d begrudgingly received the agenda from Otto’s email address about what your outfits would be.

Aemond, as usual, was going to wear black.

You expected to wear white, as you always had. But for some reason, black had also been chosen for you as well. You recall Aemond raising his eyebrow at it, thinking it odd.

Your nose wrinkles with disgust at the thought of wearing something Otto has told you to wear.

But you supposed you had no choice.

For the past few days, in between practice, you’d spend the majority of time in Helaena’s room, making good use of her sewing machine. With the finals looming, your heart barely slowed down, your leg barely unable to cease its twitching with the nerves. Fixing the hems of the garments so they fell in the right spot was a good way to distract yourself, you mused.

“Busy?”

You look up over the machine. Aegon leans against the doorway, a toothy grin on his face as his eyes flit down to the fabric you have on your lap, raising an amused eyebrow.

“Extremely” you reply, pressing on the pedal again.

“Didn’t know you were so skilled at sewing” he says teasingly, taking a few steps into the room.

“I have many talents, Aegon”

“So I’ve heard. Multiple times”

Your cheeks burn, averting your eyes to the project laid in front of you.

Fuck.

Aegon chuckles, “It’s alright. I was worse with the girls I had over. Only fair that my little bro has a turn”

You shook Aegon a warning glance, biting back a smile.

“You know it was pretty gratifying, seeing Otto get knocked down a few pegs” he mutters, “funny as well”

Laughing through your nose, you snip the fabric with some scissors.

“Thank you”

Now that’s the last thing you thought you’d hear from Aegon.

“For what?”

He shrugs, seemingly embarrassed by how vulnerable he’s being. So Aemond and Aegon do share traits.

“Sticking up for Mum” he continues, “and all of us”

This time, it’s impossible to hold back the smile, “The best is yet to come in regards to that”

Aegon narrows his eyes, suspiciously, but smirking at the same time. Amused.

“I’m glad you and Aemond are doing what you want” you add, “and Hel. But that’s your guys’ achievements, not mine”

Aegon rolls his eyes, faking a gag, “Fucking softie”

But he does give you one last, grateful smile as he leaves, his eyes once again dropping to the fabric in your lap, eyes glimmering with mischief.

Ping.

And you know then you’ve made the right choice.

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

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nouearth · 11 months

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servicing justice: superman [1]

pairing ; kal-el / clark kent / superman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 2144. series ; servicing justice. genre ; smut. rating ; m. warnings ; bigdick!superman. blowjob. gloryhole. handjob. mouth-fucking. oral (reader giving). sexworker!reader. note ; yeah, okay. maybe i've been watching too much of a certain video genre, ahem. but i hope you guys enjoy my first smut! it's been a WHILE since i've written one, so i know it's rusty, HAHA. looks-wise, i mostly had maws's superman in mind (because the art style is so good and so himbo), but feel free to imagine it with any superman!

it isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. you’ve been kneeling on the floor for quite some time now, waiting for your assigned client. your palms begin to sweat to a minimal but uncomfortable degree. did i fuck up already? you ask yourself as your mind clouds with questions, doubts, and even judgement regarding this new job.

“jesus, what did i get myself into…” you recall the long process it took for you to end up here. the intensive (and ridiculously long) process of reading and signing multiple forms and documents almost had you backing out of this opportunity. though looking back at it, it was understandable since it’s quite unheard of to be… a sex worker for superheroes.

for an incredible pay, your privacy will essentially be stripped away starting from today. all phone messages, calls, and social media activities will be monitored during your venture as a sex worker, and that post-graduate life was not going to pay itself. for the most part, so far everything seemed… great? being driven to work by a chauffeur, having your own personal room and health coverage provided, and most importantly… eating free lunch was not bad at all.

or maybe you’re just naïve.

all you had to do was kneel and suck a few superhumans off. as the newbie, you were told that you’ll be starting on gloryhole duty due to privacy reasons; at least until you built enough camaraderie. though, you didn’t even mind since there would certainly be less strain on your body.

you couldn’t help but snicker at the mere thought of an entire league of superheroes holding a meeting regarding this subject matter. especially since almost everyone in the world, including you, holds these superheroes in such high regard.

“meeting is adjourned until 9 am tomorrow! until then, please help yourself to some delicious food trucks from outer spac-“ your humorous imitation of a noble superhero is silenced when you hear the door opening. within your private booth, all that blocks you from meeting your approaching client is another door with a hole cut through.

your curiosity is piqued when you catch a sight of the man’s physique through the hole. plaid shirt and jeans aside, and assuming he had to underdress, he’s huge. maybe because you’re kneeling right now, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been near a superhero before, but you couldn’t help but be in awe at the size of the man. your eyes complete a full body scan by the time he approaches the door and before you could say something, he does.

“sorry i was late-“ a gentle voice echoes behind the door. contrary to his soft voice, the man’s large hands work aggressively at his belt, unlooping the leather with impatience yet eagerness as he anticipates the mouth that’s been waiting for his arrival. “there was this whole thing with this cat in this tree and then this school bus got hijacked- not my best day, unfortunately.”

“i’m sorry to hear that. sounds like a stressful day, yeah?” your voice is compassionate. you felt bad for the unnamed superhero and a part of you wanted to continue the conversation further, but your job isn’t to listen to their feelings. it’s to pleasure.

“yeah…” a huge sigh of relief expels from the man’s dry throat when he pulls his pants down. frustration stains another one of your client’s sigh, clearly troubled by the restrictive fabric guarding his erection. you watch with parted lips as he couldn’t help but give himself a needy stroke through his tight briefs, fondling his balls then beelining his palm to the very plump tip of his cock. your own cock hardens at this scene, and you find yourself doing the very same. mimicking his impatient hand to tend to the sensitive pressure below, you tiptoe the fine line between frustration and pleasure as your tightening pants and briefs define what it means to be an absolute nuisance. “very stressful.”

it doesn’t take much time before you’re faceful of cock and somehow, you manage to salivate more than you did a minute ago. the man’s throbbing erection is brimmed with thick pre-cum, stress practically leaving his body with every drip. it’s a heavenly sight that’s enough to make you stick your tongue out just in time to catch the substance into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. the salty taste always catches you off-guard yet at the same time, it puts you under a spell. a tantalizing spell that commands you to drag your warm tongue over and back the underside of his thick shaft, completely avoiding the plump glans to have his cock leak even more… stress.

the taste of his musk drives your palm further into your erection, palming at whatever you could as you preoccupy yourself with teasing the man. you almost felt bad for him. contrary to his build, his whimpers are… so small, so weak. you notice his hands grip over the top of the barrier, and it turns you on upon realizing how this supposed hero could become so fragile at the simple taunt of your tongue.

“please…” the superhero whimpers out, needlessly fucking the air in hopes of granting his cock some type of friction. you’re amazed, and a little proud, by how much pre-cum he’s been leaking by now, and it all goes right onto your tongue. the wet muscle follows the natural curve of his cock to meet up with the wet and plump head. his hips buckle into the barrier and feeling it shake, you keep him steady by wrapping your hand around his shaft. you’re addicted at this point. addicted to the salty taste of his pre-cum as your tongue licks and explores into the slit of his cock, while at the same time, your hand works at his large cock in slow, but steady strokes.

“oh christ-“ he breathes out, repeating the same two words under his shaky breath as you continue to pleasure him with your tongue and hand. after a few licks, you pull away to give your tongue a break. in doing so, your grip tightens around his shaft to pace your strokes quicker. when you find a moment where your wrist needs a break, you let your client catch his breath. his cock throbbing more and more with every passing second when your tongue and hand aren’t exploring him, and you bask in the sight of it. you believe you deserve a medal at this point. not for doing a great job (though, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched), but for having control. you haven’t even sucked him off yet, but you’re content on remaining just like this for a while longer. though, that wouldn’t be fair for the superhero.

before he could whimper out another plea, your warm mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock and your ears perk at the sound of his low moan almost instantly. your hand returns to its rightful position around the lower base of his penis as you cycle your tongue over the glans, satisfying your need to taste his musk once more. seconds later, your hand lets go when you push your head farther, taking in an inch more of the hero’s cock. your knees dig into the floor as you push your head more and more, stretching your mouth with his cock until you feel yourself gagging.

“fuck.” you sniffle out when you pull back. perhaps you were challenging yourself too hard. you think to yourself as you catch your breath, using the remaining moment to sloppily jerk him off with your saliva. part of you wanted to challenge yourself to deepthroat him, impress your client on the first day. but you already know you wouldn’t be able to take it… at least, for now.

“you could hurt someone with this, y’know?” for some reason, you thought you needed to crack a joke as if there was an awkward silence that needed to be filled. maybe you just wanted to hear him talk again. his voice is warm and inviting, somewhat fitting for a superhero or even a television host as the moment you hear his voice again, you felt safe.

“i have before- oh god.” you lube up his cock with your spit as you continue to jerk him off, refraining yourself from fucking his slit with your tongue again to concentrate on his words. “which is why i don’t do this much- sex and stuff… it’s all troublesome, really.”

“yeah?” and just when you talked yourself out of challenging yourself, you feel the competitive spark ignite inside of you again. “well, i guess you just have to find the right one. could be anyone, even people you just met.” you try to play it nonchalantly, hoping that double-handing his wet cock would distract him.

he was beyond speechless at this point, moans drawn out by means of your sloppy strokes. you swear you can hear his heartbeat behind the barrier when you lean your head closer to suck him off again. you moan along with him, drawing out every breath of yours as you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock every time you come down. your hand twists and strokes the remaining few inches that isn’t violated by your tongue and mouth, following your mouth like a reel as your intent to make him cum is fervent more than ever.

it hurts. your mouth hurts by how large your client is and tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself back from gagging. but you don’t stop yourself because you’ll know it’ll be worth it. your endeavor to please him to the fullest has you drowning out his groans into white noise and you can barely register the fact that you’ve been on paused for a while now. you find yourself in a closer position than before, where your mouth is open, lips fully pressed around the carved hole as the superhero fucks into your mouth, fucks into your gags like you’re his personal flesh light. you didn’t care how dirty you looked, how you had saliva and spittle dripping out from the corners of your mouth and onto the floor. who would see? and you didn’t care that you were too preoccupied to touch your dick right now, because you know you’ll be thinking about this very moment for the rest of your life. and right now, you didn’t know if you wanted to be covered in his cum or to have your mouth be filled with it.

remaining in this position, you glance your teary eyes up at his grip over the barrier again. the strength in his grasp forms small cracks in the material of the barrier and that was the sign you knew you fulfilled your sense of purpose.

“christ, i’m going to come-“ your eyes shut again and you breathe through your noise, bracing for impact. he pushes his cock down your throat and hits that sore spot one last time before unloading his cum into your mouth with a stifled groan. warm, hot seed quickly fills you up and you pull your head back an inch to fully enclose your lips around his cock, ensuring none escape your lips.

in a heartbeat, you swallowed it all. his warm cum coats the back of your throat like medicine and you moan around his cock at the taste, intoxicated. you made sure to lick every inch of his cock clean, calmly slurping any saliva and cum that threatens to leave your mouth as you pull back up with a soft pop, swallowing the remaining remnants of his stress away.

“t-thank you. i needed that…” he pulls his softening cock out, careful in avoiding the hole as he was still sensitive. “did you need a tissue or anything? i think i have one somewhere…” you can hear him rummage through what you can only assume would be his bag and you find it charming, a quiet laugh leaving your swollen lips as you lean back onto your elbows to take a breather and stretch your legs out.

“no, no. i’m okay. i, uh, don’t think i wasted a drop.” you proudly brag, only for him to respond with a shy chuckle. you watch him tidy himself through the hole from a leaned back view, occasionally tilting your head in various angles to see if you could catch a glimpse on who the mysterious superhero is, but the barrier remains an obstruction to your view.

“well then, i… uh… thank you for your service.” he covers up the silence with another laugh and you join in, re-adjusting his pants and belt before turning his back towards you and heading out the booth. “i’ll try not to be late next time.”

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hd-junglebook · 20 days

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Little Dove

Quinn Hughes x Reader

masterlist link

a:n This is part 1 and officially my first ever Quinn Hughes fic, this series will be pretty long since I want to get into the details and emotions. There will be no skimping on details. Not round here partner.

also he looks so good in this gif good god!

summary: Sometimes Y/N's effort just isn't enough; every attempt seems to be futile and disregarded. The people she calls mom and dad do nothing but disappoint her, brushing her off as an ungrateful child. It seems the only person who can truly see her is Quinn.

Word Count - 4140

...

The sun had barely begun to peek through the towering skyscrapers of the bustling city as Y/N stepped out of her sleek, black car. Her red bottom heels clicked against the pavement with each confident stride, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air. She adjusted her perfectly tailored skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles that may have formed during her commute.

As she approached the imposing glass doors of her parents' company headquarters, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease.

Despite the success and prestige that came with working for her family's business, Y/N knew deep down that this wasn't her true calling. Nevertheless, she put on a brave face and pushed through the doors, ready to tackle another day.

The security guard, a friendly older gentleman named Frank, greeted her with a warm smile. "Good morning, Miss Y/N," he said, tipping his hat in her direction.

Y/N returned the smile, her red lipstick a striking contrast against her porcelain skin. "Good morning, Frank. I hope you had a lovely weekend," she replied, her voice smooth and polished, befitting her corporate persona.

As she made her way through the spacious lobby, her heels clicked against the polished marble floor, announcing her presence to the few early risers already at their desks. She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where her office was located.

Stepping out into the hallway, Y/N was greeted by the sight of her office, its glass walls doing little to provide privacy. The modern, minimalist design was a reflection of her parents' tastes rather than her own. She sighed.

With a deep breath, Y/N pushed open the glass door and entered her office, ready to start another day in a job that left her feeling unfulfilled, yearning for something more.

Y/N settled into her plush, ergonomic chair, the leather cool against her skin. She reached forward and pressed the power button on her sleek, silver computer, watching as the screen flickered to life. The familiar logo of her parents' company appeared, a constant reminder of her obligations and the path she felt pressured to follow.

The computer hummed quietly, Y/N began to sort through the stack of paperwork on her desk. She picked up a folder, her perfectly manicured nails a stark contrast against the crisp, white paper. Just as she was about to open the file, a buzzing sound emanated from her designer purse.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N reached into her bag and retrieved her phone. The screen displayed a new text message, and her heart skipped a beat as she read the name: Quinn. she opened the message.

"Hey princess," the text read, the words both endearing and frustrating.

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair as she contemplated her response. Quinn had a way of blurring the lines between playful banter and genuine affection, leaving her constantly questioning the nature of their relationship. His messages were often short and casual, but the term of endearment he used never failed to send a flutter through her chest.

Despite his repeated claims that he wasn't looking for anything serious, Quinn seemed to take pleasure in pushing the boundaries, leaving Y/N in a state of confusion and longing.

She knew she shouldn't let herself get too attached, but there was something about him that drew her in, making it difficult to maintain the emotional distance she knew was necessary.

With another sigh, Y/N set her phone back down on the desk, trying to focus on the task at hand. She knew she needed to establish clearer boundaries with Quinn, but the thought of pushing him away completely left an ache in her heart.

Y/n shook her head, attempting to clear her mind and concentrate on the paperwork before her, even as thoughts of Quinn lingered in the back of her mind.

…

Y/N's attention was drawn away from her mother's presentation as her phone buzzed once more. She discreetly glanced at the screen under the table, her heart racing as she saw Quinn's name appear again. Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and guilt as she read his messages.

"I miss you," the first text read, causing a warmth to spread through her chest. Before she could fully process the implications of his words, another message followed: "Are we still good for tmrw?"

Y/N's mind raced as she contemplated her response. She had agreed to go out with Quinn for dinner tomorrow, a decision she had made in a moment of weakness, longing for the thrill of his company.

Now, sitting in the business room with her parents, the reality of her situation came crashing down upon her.

She glanced up, her eyes meeting her father's stern gaze from across the table. He sat in his imposing grey chair, his posture straight and attentive as he listened to Dedra's presentation.

Y/N knew that her parents had high expectations for her, and the thought of disappointing them weighed heavily on her conscience.

As Dedra continued to explain the new company policy, Y/N found it increasingly difficult to focus. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Quinn, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the effortless charm he exuded. She yearned to respond to his messages, to confirm their plans and lose herself in the excitement of their secret rendezvous.

Y/N's heart raced as she quickly typed out her response to Quinn, her fingers flying across the screen. She glanced up every few seconds, ensuring that her parents were still engaged in the presentation. With a final look of determination, she pressed send, a small thrill running through her body.

Almost instantly, her phone buzzed with Quinn's reply. "Wear that red dress I bought you."

Y/N's eyebrows raised in surprise, a smirk playing on her lips as she typed back, "The v neck dress?"

"Yeah, that one."

"I will ;), I have to go back to work, I'll text you later." Y/N sent the message, a giddy feeling bubbling up inside her chest. However, her momentary happiness was short-lived as she felt a sharp kick under the table. Her eyes snapped up to meet her father's disapproving gaze, his brow furrowed in irritation.

the meeting concluded around her, Y/N's coworkers filed out of the room, muttering their polite goodbyes. Soon, only Y/N and her parents remained, the tension in the air palpable. Her mother fixed her with a stern look, her voice laced with disappointment.

"Y/N, you're not taking this as seriously as you need to be. This will be you one day." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Who were you talking to?"

Y/N's heart sank, knowing that lying to her parents would only make matters worse. She opened her mouth to respond, but her father cut her off.

"Was it that hockey guy?" He scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "He sucks, he'll never be good enough. I should've paid him off four months ago if I knew he'd be such a distraction."

Y/N's cheeks burned with a mixture of shame and anger. She hated the way her parents spoke about Quinn, as if he were nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with. She knew they would never approve of their relationship but hearing them talk about him so callously only strengthened her resolve.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N met her parents' gazes, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "Quinn, and he's not a distraction.” Her mother's lips pressed into a thin line, disapproval etched into every line of her face.

Y/N's parents exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes filled with a mixture of disappointment and condescension. Her mother, Dedra, was a striking woman in her mid-50s, with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and a designer suit that hugged her slender frame.

Her father, Derek, was a tall, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetual scowl that seemed etched into his chiseled features.

Dedra leaned forward, her elbows resting on the polished mahogany table. "Y/N, darling," she began, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "you know we only want what's best for you. This... Quinn," she said his name as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth, "he's not good for you. He's a distraction, a phase. You'll see that soon enough."

Y/N felt her stomach twist, the all-too-familiar sensation of her parents' manipulation taking hold. She opened her mouth to protest, but Derek cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Enough, Y/N," he growled, his deep voice reverberating through the empty conference room. "You're not a child anymore. It's time you started acting like the adult you claim to be. This company, this life we've built for you - it's all we've ever wanted for you. And you're throwing it away for some lowlife hockey player who barely even made it to the big leagues."

Y/N's cheeks burned with anger and humiliation. She hated the way her parents made her feel, as if her thoughts and feelings were invalid, as if she were nothing more than a pawn in their grand scheme.

Dedra reached across the table, her perfectly manicured hand grasping Y/N's wrist. "Sweetheart," she said, her tone softening, "we love you. We just don't want to see you get hurt. Men like Quinn... they're not in it for the long haul. They'll use you, break your heart, and move on to the next pretty face. You deserve so much more than that."

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let her parents see her weakness. She knew they were wrong about Quinn, but their words still cut deep, playing on her insecurities and fears.

Derek stood up, his tall frame looming over her. "This discussion is over, Y/N. You'll end things with this Quinn character, and you'll focus on your work. Your future. Do I make myself clear?"

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. She wanted to scream, to tell her parents that they had no right to control her life, but she knew it would be futile. With a curt nod, she pushed back from the table and stood up, her legs shaking beneath her.

"I have work to do," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you'll excuse me."

Without waiting for a response, Y/N turned on her heel and strode out of the conference room, her heart hammering in her chest.

…

The clock on the wall seemed to move at an agonizingly slow pace, each tick echoing through the cramped office space. Y/N leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking beneath her weight as she stared blankly at the computer screen.

The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow on her features, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her jaw.

Around her, the office hummed with activity, the sound of ringing phones and the gentle whir of computers filling the air. Y/N felt suffocated by the monotony of it all, the endless hours spent hunched over her desk, pouring over spreadsheets and reports.

As the clock finally struck three, Y/N let out a sigh of relief, the thought of going home filling her with a sense of euphoria. She could almost feel the soft embrace of her couch, the warmth of a glass of wine in her hand as she left the stresses of the day behind.

Just as she was about to log off her computer, a sharp knock at the door startled her from her thoughts. Alexandra, the secretary, peeked her head in, her perfectly styled hair and immaculate makeup a stark contrast to Y/N's tired appearance.

"I sent some of the paperwork to your email," Alexandra said, her voice saccharine sweet. "If you could just finish those up before you leave, that'd help a lot."

Y/N felt a surge of anger course through her veins, her patience wearing thin. She fixed Alexandra with a cold stare, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's three. I get to go home now, you know, like a normal person."

Alexandra's eyes narrowed, her lips pursing in disapproval. Y/N knew that the secretary had always treated her like nothing more than a privileged nepo baby, completely disregarding the fact that Y/N had never used her family's influence to step on any toes or make people do her bidding.

Y/N stood up from her chair, grabbing her purse and jacket from the back of her seat. She could feel Alexandra's eyes boring into her back as she made her way towards the door, but she refused to give the woman the satisfaction of seeing her frustration.

"I'll take care of it in the morning," Y/N said, her hand on the doorknob. "Have a good night, Alexandra."

Without waiting for a response, Y/N stepped out of her office, the sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor as she made her way towards the elevators.

She could feel the weight of the day lifting from her shoulders with each step, the promise of freedom and the warmth of her bath calling to her like a siren song.

As the elevator doors closed behind her, Y/N let out a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned back against the cool metal wall. She knew that the road ahead would be filled with obstacles, but for now, all she wanted was to lose herself in the comfort of Quinn's arms and forget about the expectations and pressures that threatened to suffocate her.

…

The faucet let out a high-pitched squeak as Y/N twisted the gleaming chrome knob, the sound echoing off the tiled walls of the dimly lit bathroom. The flow of water slowed to a trickle before stopping completely, leaving behind a tub filled with steaming, inviting water.

Tendrils of steam rose from the water, carrying with them the intoxicating aroma.

With a fluid motion, Y/N untied the sash of her plush, white bathrobe, the soft fabric slipping off her shoulders and pooling at her feet. The cool air kissed her bare skin, sending a slight shiver down her spine as she stepped closer to the tub.

Tentatively, she dipped a toe into the water, testing the temperature. The heat was intense, but not unbearable, and Y/N slowly lowered herself into the bath, letting out a contented sigh as the warm water enveloped her body.

The water lapped at her shoulders, the heat penetrating her tired muscles and easing away the knots and tension that had accumulated throughout the day.

Y/N sank deeper into the rose petal-filled bathwater, the sweet, floral aroma wafting through the steamy air. The soft, delicate petals brushed against her skin, their velvety touch a gentle caress. She inhaled deeply, the scent of roses mingling with the subtle vanilla notes of her favorite candle, creating a soothing, intimate atmosphere.

As she leaned back, her hair cascaded over the edge of the tub, the ends dipping into the water and creating gentle ripples on the surface. Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks, a result of the bath's intense heat.

The tranquil moment was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone, its vibration echoing through the bathroom. Y/N's eyes snapped open, a curious expression on her face as she reached for the device.

Quinn's name flashed across the screen, his photo – a candid shot of him grinning widely, his dark hair tousled by the wind – accompanying the incoming call.

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips as she lifted herself from the bath, water droplets cascading down her smooth, sun-kissed skin. She grabbed the phone, tapping the screen to answer the call and putting it on speaker.

"Hi, hottie," Y/N greeted, her voice playful and warm.

Quinn's nerdy, endearing voice filled the bathroom, a chuckle evident in his tone. "Hey there, beautiful. How's my favorite girl doing tonight?"

Y/N reached for her glass of wine, the deep, rich red liquid swirling in the crystal glass. She took a sip, savoring the bold, fruity flavors on her tongue before responding. "Oh, you know, just unwinding after a long day at the office. How about you, handsome?"

"Counting down the minutes until I get to see you tomorrow," Quinn replied, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I can't stop thinking about how stunning you'll look in that red dress."

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. She set the wine glass down, running her fingers through her damp hair, pushing it away from her face. "Mmm, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," she purred, her tone flirtatious.

"That's because you are special, Y/N," Quinn said, his voice softening. "I can't wait to have you all to myself tomorrow. No work, no distractions, just you and me."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, a giddy feeling spreading through her chest. She bit her lower lip, a coy smile playing on her features. "I like the sound of that," she murmured, her voice low and sultry. "You better be prepared to sweep me off my feet, mister."

Quinn's laughter filled the bathroom, warm and infectious. "Oh, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, don't you worry."

As they continued their playful banter, Y/N sank back into the bath, the warm water enveloping her once more. She closed her eyes, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she listened to Quinn's voice, the sound soothing her soul and filling her with anticipation for the day to come.

…

As the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the bedroom, Y/N's phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand. The vibrations seemed to echo through the tranquil space, a jarring contrast to the peaceful atmosphere.

Beyond the window, the vibrant green of the trees and grass was visible, a testament to the beauty of the early morning.

The bedroom was a serene oasis, with its pristine white decor creating a sense of calm and comfort. The plush, white comforter enveloped Y/N, its softness lulling her into a state of drowsy contentment.

Y/N stirred, mumbling incoherently as she slowly turned over, her eyelids fluttering open. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight that flooded the room. As she reached for her phone, the alarm blared to life, the glowing digits on the nightstand displaying a crisp 7:00 AM.

With a groan, Y/N sat up, her hand instinctively reaching for her phone. As she unlocked the device, she was greeted by a string of texts from her mother, Dedra. The messages, even in their digital form, seemed to drip with condescension.

"Y/N, don't forget about the family brunch today. Your father and I expect you to be there, and please, try to look presentable. We have important guests attending, and we can't have you embarrassing us like last time. And do try to be on time, darling. Punctuality is a virtue, after all."

Rolling her eyes, Y/N tossed her phone aside and begrudgingly dragged herself out of bed. She went about her morning routine, selecting a chic and appropriate outfit for the brunch and work before making her way to the kitchen.

As she entered the heart of her home, Y/N couldn't help but smile. The space was everything she had ever dreamed of – a perfect blend of modern elegance and cozy charm. She moved towards the kitchen island, her bare feet padding softly against the cool, hardwood floors.

While her coffee brewed, filling the air with its rich, invigorating aroma, Y/N leaned back against the island, her eyes drifting to the television mounted on the wall. The familiar characters of The 100, flashed across the screen.

She sipped her coffee, savoring the warmth and comfort it provided, as she lost herself in the post-apocalyptic world unfolding before her.

Y/N glanced at her watch, the sleek hands pointing to 8:30, a frustrated huff escaped her lips. She quickly shut off the television and grabbed her essentials, making her way out of the apartment and towards her car.

The drive to the office was usually a time for Y/N to unwind and mentally prepare for the day ahead, with her favorite podcast playing through the speakers.

However, today's episode left her feeling unsettled. The young creator, barely 18 years old, was excitedly announcing her pregnancy. The way she spoke about it, as if it were some sort of miraculous blessing, made Y/N's stomach churn. With a quick tap, she muted the podcast, silence filling the car as she navigated the familiar streets.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the imposing office building, Y/N's eyes immediately landed on Alexandra, who was just a few spots down from her. A wave of dread washed over her, and she quickly locked her car, determined to beat her colleague to the elevator.

Y/N's heels clicked against the pavement as she hurried towards the entrance, her breath coming in short, anxious bursts. She could hear Alexandra's footsteps echoing behind her.

Just as Y/N stepped into the elevator, her manicured finger jabbing the button for the 4th floor, she caught a glimpse of Alexandra rushing towards her. With a sly grin, Y/N pressed the close button, feigning interest in her perfectly polished nails as the doors began to slide shut.

Alexandra stumbled, her hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to stop the elevator, but it was too late. As the doors closed, Y/N looked up, meeting her colleague's gaze with a sad, insincere smile. The look of frustration and annoyance on Alexandra's face was a small victory for Y/N, a momentary triumph in the never-ending battle of office politics.

The elevator began its ascent, Y/N leaned back against the cool metal wall, her eyes closing for a brief moment. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heart and push away the lingering unease from the podcast. The day had barely begun, and already she felt drained.

It dinged, signaling her arrival on the 4th floor, Y/N straightened her shoulders and put on a brave face. She stepped out into the hallway.

…

The constant cacophony of rings and beeps filled Y/N's ears for the next three hours, the incessant noise drilling into her skull. The cramped office space felt more like a chicken coop than a professional workspace, and Y/N could feel her sanity slowly slipping away with each passing minute.

Just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore, Dedra peeked her head into the office, her critical gaze sweeping over the room before she entered. With a sense of entitlement, she perched herself on the edge of Y/N's desk, her perfectly manicured fingers toying with a strand of Y/N's hair.

"You know, you look stressed, Y/N," Dedra remarked, her tone laced with false concern. Her eyes then traveled down to Y/N's attire, and her face contorted into a look of disgust. "Is that what you're wearing to brunch?" she asked, her voice dripping with disapproval. "I guess it will do."

Before Y/N could respond, Dedra abruptly stood up and headed towards the door, gesturing for her daughter to follow. Y/N huffed in frustration, the weight of her mother's judgment pressing down on her. She quickly logged off her computer and gathered her belongings, trailing behind Dedra as they made their way through the office.

As they walked, Y/N could feel the eyes of her coworkers following them, their gazes a mix of curiosity and envy. She held her head high, refusing to let their attention faze her. Dedra, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the attention, her stride confident and purposeful as she led the way.

When they reached the front of the building, a sleek black limo slowly approached, its polished exterior gleaming in the sunlight. Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at the ostentatious display.

"Why do we need a limo for brunch?" she asked, exasperation evident in her voice. "Could you guys be any more extra?"

Dedra shot her a sharp look, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Appearances matter, Y/N," she said, her tone clipped. "We have a reputation to uphold, and arriving in style is part of that."

Y/N bit back a retort, knowing that arguing with her mother was a futile endeavor. As the limo pulled up to the curb, the driver promptly exited the vehicle, opening the door for them with a practiced bow.

Dedra climbed in first, her movements graceful and refined. Y/N followed suit, sinking into the plush leather seats with a sigh.

The vehicle pulled away from the curb, and Y/N watched as the office building grew smaller in the distance. She knew that the brunch would be just another performance, a carefully orchestrated display of wealth and status that she was expected to participate in.

…

message me to be added to the tag list. hope you enjoyed it. please lmk how you liked it.

(also I just made this idea today and I can't believe I already wrote chapter 1)

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moumouton4 · 10 months

Note

Idk if you know this, but JSchlatt reaction meme "What the fuck":

https://youtu.be/cl4N8evU8UY

Now, to what, Naruto characters would react like this?

(Yes I have too much time on my hands so I'm looking up old reaction memes)

Toodles~

Their Reactions To You Going "What The Fuck ?!?" || Naruto characters x reader 5

A/n : Oh gosh my dear it took me so much time. I've never struggled so much and I think it was because writing for a meme is a complex exercise 👀 But I did it ! 😍

Naruto Headcanons series : 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Warnings : Contains both fluff and smut ( mention of boner, hand job, roughness, punishment, oral male!receiver, grinding, mention of wall sex, mention of breeding, dirty talk ) 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 2131

Sasuke Uchiha : All the people around you were engrossed in a dumb ass show - according to him. Once again he sighs discreetly at the jokes he certainly doesn't find funny. He only came because Naruto told him he wanted all his friends to be there for the evening. But then a voice was heard above all the laughters “What the fuck ?!? This is not funny” you said. Everyone looked at you amused before starting to laugh again. Except Sasuke, he looked at you intently. You had to be Y/n, an ally Naruto had met on a mission, he thought. As you got up to take a breath outside. He cautiously made his way outside the house as well. You seemed very raw and unadorned, and it piqued his curiosity. Perhaps he could get to know you in more detail ?

Kakashi Hatake : He smiles widely under his mask, the only thing giving him away were the crinkles around his eyes showing how genuine his smile was. He found it really unusual and unexpected to see you burst like this. After all, you were a great and skilled kunoichi, who had a lot of requirements and was very professional. But it felt really good to see that after all like everyone you have your little moments of overflow. He knew no one was around so he gave your ass a gentle yet noticeable slap “Y/n keep it down. You have a reputation to uphold” he chuckled at the bashful expression on your face.

Itachi Uchiha : He's not even taken aback. He smiles lovingly at you. He loves to see you go out of your way. It gives you a wild, unpredictable side that he loves "My fierce lioness" For him, it's so endearing he can't help but rub your cheek with love, his dark eyes getting lost in your gaze, making you blush and calm down. Every action you take and word you say reminds him of what a good choice he made in asking you to marry him ( maybe a future hc 👀 )

Naruto Uzumaki : He doesn’t care if you’re angry or just messing around. He’s going to pick you and tickle you. At some point you move so much that he slips. You both end up sprawled on the floor. Everyone in the street are looking at you and it’s fueling you again “This is not fucking fucking. Mind your own business !” Meanwhile Naruto is just laughing his ass off as if it was the funniest thing ever.

Iruka Umino : His eyes widen and his mouth hangs agape. But don’t misunderstand him, he is really happy that for once someone takes up his defense when his pupils are making fun of him. Though then he looks at you with a smile as he whispers with his mouth half hiding his mouth “Y/n please they are already impossible to manage. Don't teach them swear words" You gave him a sheepish smile and kissed his cheek before saying goodbye. Leaving him flustered in front of a shocked crowd of kids whispering how pretty their teacher’s S/o is.

Utakata : He doesn’t even care what you’re talking about - as long as you’re safe. He’s going to gently slap the back of your head or pinch your shoulder and remind you of your language "Y/n being my apprentice you must keep a certain self control and keep these kinds of words out of your language" You huffed as his basic and prepared answer, reminding him that you also were his partner. He flushed and turned his head the other way so that you don’t see the effect your teasing has on him. He mumbled “Yeah… that too” He wrapped your arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer. You both trained well now it was time to go home and rest.

Rock Lee : He panics !! He wants to know why you said that, to whom you said that. Not funny ? Don’t worry he is going to give you his best to make you laugh ( almost wrote cum” here. I was on Hidan’s part before 😭 ) Also he is a bit clueless at your choice of word “My Flower isn’t this word supposed to be used in a more intimate cont-” but the look of pure rage that you gave him killed his question in the egg as he gulped down loudly. He’s obviously going to ask Guy senseï, Neji or Tenten for an answer ( Yes Neji is still alive in my canon-verse )

Yamato : He doesn’t know what’s happening. He just knows he doesn’t want to get involved. He stares at you ensuring you’re fine and slowly he steps aside. Slowly, slowly, until he leaves the scene. Which has you running after him throughout the village. Obviously you find him hiding behind the bench where Kakashi is reading his book on “Please don’t tell Y/n I’m here” “Y/n ! Tenzo’s hiding behind that bench”

Sasori : Seriously bro is unfazed lmao. If he looks up from the puppet he is crafting then you’re a lucky one. But ultimately he is going to make sure there is nothing wrong happening because believe it or not he cares about you. And whoever displeases you will regret it.

Gaara : He freezes slightly. His head turns s l o w l y towards you wondering what might have triggered this response. It better be not someone’s fault or else they will have to deal with the Kazekage himself. But then as he focuses on what you’re doing, he sees you rage quitting on your game console. And before he can even say a word he sees you throwing it out the window “My Love careful. It's the 6th this month” He motions to you to come towards him and pats your head gently reminding you that next time it happens that you should just set it before you get angry.

Hashirama Senju : He is a bit shocked but finds your reaction funny as well. And a bit ashamed because he was actually enjoying the jokes of the show. But he had to know better after all. You’re such a lively and sunny person that he almost forgets how much you’re like his brother when it gets to the field of humor. That’s maybe why you've always gotten along well. He nudges you playfully to make you loosen up “Hey you’re married to the Hokage now stop acting like-” but all he gets is a dark glare and a kiss on the cheek, which makes him go dark red.

Tobirama Senju : He can’t help the corner of his lips from twitching upwards. It makes him feel better at ease knowing he is not alone not finding it funny. And knowing that you above everyone thinks the same as him warms his heart. He wants to scoop you in his arms and set you on his lap as he smells the scent of your hair. But for that he’ll have to wait for you guys to come back home. He just hopes his brother isn’t going to invite himself like he always does when Hashirama wants to have a quiet and loving evening with you “No one’s home, come back and try tomorrow !”

Deidara : We know him. He is such a drama queen. He is for sure going to follow you and start screaming insults without even knowing what got you starting in the first place. But it’s fueling your anger. And so you both end up filing the hideout with your screams. Sasori or someone else comes to y’all and tries to scare you for you to shut the fuck up “Nooooo but you don’t understand it’s fucking annoyin-” “SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU !”

Shikamaru Nara : He smirks. His eyes flashes a mischievous glance at you. Despite his laid back stature with his hands buried in his pockets, we can clearly see in his eyes a fire burn. He startles you when suddenly his arm wraps around your waist, bringing you closer to him, until your hip rests flush against his. He isn’t giving anything away to anyone that might have seen him getting closer to you. He nods mindlessly at what others are saying. It’s son going to be this time of the day when he needs you as much as he needs air. You feel his hand squeeze your hip and you know that sooner or later he is going to try to get you out of here to have you all to himself.

NSFW starts here :

Minato Namikaze : He is slightly taken aback when he hears your outburst. But he is used to it after all this time being married to you. And even after 4 years it always stirs this sparkle inside him. He feels all warm and fuzzy inside. It reminded him of the first time he ever saw you, and of course you were lashing out at someone who disrespected one of your friends. You snapped him out of his thoughts when your hand touched his bulge over his pants. He blushed as a moan escaped his lips. He should have known he would react that way. He always does “Princess aghh… keep going” he begged, his hips jerked up at your touch. He just wanted you to free his hardened length from the confines from his pants to touch him properly. It was your fault, now he needed you to take the matter in your own hands… literally.

Orochimaru : He roughly grabbed your jaw the moment he heard the words leave your lips. You were stunned but it wasn’t foreign. Even when you guys had sex and a curse would escape you he’d stop right away “Oh, such hideous words coming out from the mouth of such an obedient pet" You knew damn well what that meant for you. No cumming allowed until… well until he allows you. You felt his hands on your shoulders gently but firmly bringing you down on your knees “Open wide for me. You’re going to do your best to make me forget about this slip of yours”

Neji Hyuga : He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt when he heard you say those words. When throughout your childhood you're taught to keep up appearances, to be obedient and to look your best. When you grow up you want to look beyond these barriers and see what it would be like to behave normally. No restraints - especially when you've got eyes that can see through clothes - just pure instincts. I always did his best not to keep his mask on when he was with you. And today the hinges had popped. He grabbed you around the waist and pinned you against the wall. From there you could clearly feel the outline of his cock against your center. His hips moved in a teasing motion against you “Please let me have you against the wall” he pleaded. You could tell he was doing his best not to let any noise out. So what did you do ? You cursed again obviously. And he didn't need anything more to get off to a flying start.

Madara Uchiha : “What the f-” he doesn’t even let you finish your sentence. He puts his hand over your mouth to make sure you don't finish the string of insults he is sure was about to come “You’re an Uchiha now. I expect much more from you” He set his other hand on your shoulder putting a firm pressure on it as he lowered his voice. His breath tickles your ear “Once we get home I'm going to make sure you use up your supply of insults while I breed you mmh ? I just need you to be a little more patient” You nodded obediently and he released his grip on you. Leaving you hanging for more. But you didn't worry, you knew he was a man of his word.

Hidan : He laughs loudly at your curses. He doesn’t care for whom it is destined to, not why you said that. It fuels him. That’s it he wants to fuck now. With his it’s easy, you need a fuck ? curse in front of him. Regardless of where you are, he won’t even bother looking for an excuse. He’ll take you on his shoulder and bring you to your room “Such a slutty mouth you have my dear” he smirks throwing you on the bed “We’ll see how much more I can coax out from you. I’ll give you real fun” he says in a dangerous tone as he enters you with one deep thrust.

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🥪🌭 Again my requests are open 🧇🧀

*Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff

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tinydefector · 1 month

Text

Transformers reacting to Nipple piercings

Characters: Mtmte Rodimus, ROFB Mirage, TFP Knockout

Warnings: slight nsfw, oral fixation, nipple piercings, hinted smut, piercing care.

If people enjoy this series I might make some others.

Word count 3K

Request and ask open, read pinned post

_______________

Rodimus

They couldn't sit still. The fabric of their shirt continued to rub against their skin in an unpleasant manner, ignoring it was the only option at that moment. They sat on Rodimus' desk helping him with reports. "How's your report going Rodimus?" They ask while trying to get in a more comfortable position.

Rodimus sighed in frustration as he reviewed the long list of maintenance reports in need of sign-off. "Not great," he replied. "There always seems to be more work to do than cycles in a solar cycle. I don't know how Megatron keeps up with it all. or how Ultra Magnus can write so much" He offers a rueful smile. "Thanks for helping me plough through these. It's much more bearable with help and company."

Taking note of the fidgeting, Rodimus asked gently, "Is your plating bothering you? I wish we had better abrasives to smooth the rough spots. Being cooped up inside the Lost Light so much can't be easy on your systems." His optics shone with compassion for his human friend's discomfort.

"It's called a shirt Rods, humans wear them kinda like how you bots have plating over your body, And no the fabric is just irritating my skin today, keeps catching on my piercings" they mumble the last part to themself.

A curious look came over Rodimus's face. "Piercings? What in the Pits are those?" he asked.

"They are little decorative pieces of metal we have put through our skin. Some we wear in our ears, nose, lips, eyebrows, it's a little bit of a painful process but they are pretty" they explained.

Rodimus nodded thoughtfully at further explanation on human piercings. "I can see the appeal of adornments, even if the application sounds rather narely," he said. Furrowing his optics, Rodimus peered more closely at their frame. "Hmm, if they're meant to be visible decorations, then why can't I see any of you now?" he wondered aloud. "Are they retractable like transformation seams? Or is human flesh somehow capable of covering them up? Your species never ceases to perplex me with your biological quirks and tricks."

They laugh loudly before wincing slightly. "They aren't always on display, but no we can't retract them but we can take them out. Mine are just under the shirt is all. And feel rather tender at the moment"

"So they come out, huh?" Rodimus responded thoughtfully. Curiosity piqued, he asked, "Do you have them on you now under the shirt? Can I see? Do they have lights or are they just metal?."

He tilted his head inquisitively. "Fleshly adornments are such an alien concept to me." Pausing, Rodimus added excitedly.

With a small shake of their head in amusement at Rodimus' curiosity they speak again. "Sure I'll let you have a look." They are quick to discard their shirt sitting there so Rodimus can look. Each nipple has a bar though it with a little ball at each end. Rodimus is overly eager to touch and inspect.

Careful with his touches, Rodimus leaned in slowly for a closer look. "Fascinating," he murmured, optics shining with wonder at the novel modifications. Up close, he was even more intrigued by the symmetrical placements and elegant simplicity of the adornments. Softly, as if handling something incredibly fragile, Rodimus raised a finger and ghosted it above one glistening bar, mesmerised by the contrast of cool metal against warm flesh.

Servo hovering, as always mindful of organic delicacy. Rodimus barely grazed the ball end with his fingertip, amazed by its give underneath hard plating. Cybertronian armour was rigid and unyielding; sensitive inner workings always shielded. He had much to learn about life beyond his kind.

a soft gasp leaves their lips as Rodimus' digit graze against their chest. The piercings themselves were still rather tender, but the soft touch of cold metal against them left goose bumps across skin, they relaxed into the touch. Both their works are forgotten.

Rodimus noted the soft intake of air and sensations rendering their plating sensitive. "My apologies, I didn't mean to make it hurt," he said gently. When they relaxed into his feather-light touch, seemingly soothed rather than aggravated, Rodimus felt his curiosity heightening. The smooth textures and varied temperatures called out to his sensor net to further discern material properties through all means available.

Leaning closer still, Rodimus let his optics dim and his glossa slowly extended, barely brushing one adornment in a tactile sampling. Cool and slick, it traced intricate shapes with an elegance beyond his plated appendages alone.

eyes shoot open wide as they feel the cool touch of Rodimus glossa against the flushed skin, biting back a moan at the pleasant sensation. "Having fun?" They asked in a teasing tone, not stopping the bot from exploring, enjoying the feeling of Rodimus' glossa.

"Frag, sorry, curiosity tends to get the better of me," Rodimus replied lightly, though his field betrayed growing enthusiasm.

He held their gaze, optics half-shuttered, as his glossa traced delicate circles, learning every contour. Something in the way pleased noises were stifled stirred Rodimus's core, spurring his exploration ever onward in a dance of discovery.

Soft ex-vents ghosted warmly over newly sensitised skin, it prickles with more goosebumps as the air brushes the areas he had run his glossa across. eliciting subtle tremors that Rodimus felt to his struts.

They gasp and moan softly as Rodimus softly sucks on the tender skin. "Fuck Rodimus feels good" The young human arches into the touch as Rodimus' other servo slowly teases the other nipple.

Tracing lower, Rodimus' glossa circled delicately, tasting the sweet warmth of their skin through every sensor. His free servo rolled the other nub skillfully, marvelling at how small fluctuations elicited outsized effects.

Ventilation hitched as strange new feelings rose in Rodimus's spark. He focused on their pleasure, marvelling at them. slowly they pull Rodimus back, breathing slightly heavy from the experience. "I think that's enough exploring for one day Roddy, we still have reports to finish"

Rodimus loathes having to release the soft nipple from his intake, it makes Rodimus Rodimus rumbled apologetically as duty calls them back to boring reports. Yet parting from sweet flesh proved unexpectedly difficult after such revelation of how it tasted, It's addictive.

"Just a moment more," he pleaded between languid sucks, unable to relinquish the heady sensations. Never had something like this tempted him so much.

Mirage

Mirage had caught a glimpse of the piercings a few times. Mainly when he had been intimate with his lover, the small metal bars thought their nipples had never escaped his processor, But as they sat together a question lingers on mirages mind. What were they?

"Raj can you grab me a tarp, gonna need it when I do this oil change on This car" they call out.

Mirage processes the request, grabs one of the tarps from the storage area and brings it over to where his friend is working on the vehicle. He sets it down nearby so it's ready when needed.

"Here is the tarp. So..." he thinks back to the memory files of their intimate moments together "I have been curious about those things in your chest. On your nipples specifically. What made you decide to get those? Just something you found aesthetically pleasing? Or is there another reason behind it?"

"My piercings?, I got them as a dare a while back, hurt like a bitch getting them done but I don't really mind them now, until they get stuck on things then they burn, mainly keep them in because I like them" they explain as they move around getting set up to do the oil filter change. Bucket set up under the car.

Mirage listens to the explanation with interest, tilting his head slightly as he processes the words. A playful smirk spreads across his faceplates as his friend mentions the piercings occasionally getting stuck on things.

"Is that so? Well I can understand the appeal of a dare, though personally I think I'm too clever to ever get myself into such a predicament." He chuckles cockily, exuding an air of lighthearted smugness.

"As for liking how they look, I have to agree they do add a certain... aesthetic flair" His optics briefly glance over their body in a subtle once-over before meeting their gaze again with a grin.

"Just be sure not to let those piercings of yours get snagged on any wiring or plating during that oil change. Wouldn't want anything... sticking unexpectedly." He waggles his optical ridges suggestively.

"Let me know if you need an extra set of hands though. Wouldn't want an... accident to occur down there." Mirage offers his assistance in a playfully teasing tone, enjoying the back-and-forth banter as usual.

"Raj! Please, I'm working here! Perv" They call out swatting the bots hand away. They focus in on the car they are under. "Can you pass me the 10mm socket wrench" the call out while setting up their small touch to see.

Mirage chuckles good-naturedly at getting swatted away. "Ah, you know you love it when I tease," he says lightheartedly.

Making an exaggerated show of pretending to pout with downturned optical ridges and a small smirk, Mirage turns towards the tool cart. "Alright alright, no more distractions while you work."

He rummages around briefly before producing the requested 10mm socket wrench. Mirage saunters back over and holds it down for his friend, lover? to take it easily.

Settling back against the wall again, Mirage watches them get to work on the vehicle, angling his helm thoughtfully. "You know, you perform repairs so dexterously." He teases

They work quickly with undoing the oil cap to drain it. But when they lose grip on the small screw they curse. Oil spilling out quicker than expected. "Son of a bitch!" They hiss. Moving quickly after getting oil spilt over them. It makes mirage chuckle in amusement.

Mirage can't help but chuckle in mild amusement as he watches the spat of unintentional spillage. "Well well, looks like someone needs to tighten their grip," he quips lightheartedly, unable to resist the playful jab.

They roll out from under the car, oil covering them, they grumble trying to get the shocked shirt off before more of it could get on their skin or in their hair. And there they are on display again, those nipple piercings mirage liked so much, oil and grease lingering on the skin

Mirage's attention is immediately drawn to the piercings on display as his friend struggles to remove their shirt. His engine emits a subtle purr at the tantalising sight, optics roving appreciatively over the grease-stained form before him.

"Well well, what have we here?" he speaks in a low, smug tone, cocky attitude radiating off him in waves. "It seems our little spill has left quite the...messy situation."

His gaze subtly lingers on the piercings, glistening with oil, before trailing back up slowly to meet thier eyes. A grin plays across his faceplates, brimming with self-assured confidence.

"Need a hand cleaning all that grim off? I'd be happy to...lend a digit or two. And perhaps a glossa too, if you'd like - can't have precious jewellery like that staying filthy now, can we?"

He steps closer, fuel pump thrumming in approval at the enticing view. Mirage oozes smug charm, revelling in the alluring scenario before him. "What do you say...care for some assistance?"

"God you're a nuisance " the huff, but let mirage continue with his antics. Mirage lets out a playful chuckle at his friend's exasperated remark.

"A nuisance, am I? You wound me so." He clasps a hand dramatically over his spark, optics swirling with mirthful mischief.

"But you haven't said no yet..." Mirage points out, emboldened by the lack of outright refusal.

Stepping closer still so they're mere inches apart, he levels his friend with a gaze of smouldering intent, laughter fading to a flirtatious smirk.

"Come now, we both know you enjoy my particular brand of...nuisance. And I do so want to help clean you up properly." His field pulses with suggestive magnetism as nimble digits reach out to gently brush over their exposed skin in a teasing caress.

"Unless...you'd really rather I leave you to your grimy predicament?" Mirage whispers huskily.

"Get me a towel, Raj, then I'll think about it," they state, standing there with a smile as they wait for him to grab a towel.

"As you wish." Mirage's engine rumbles with delighted intrigue as he accepts the challenge.

Whirling on his heelstrut with a flourish, Mirage makes his way towards the storage closet at a leisurely stroll. Rummaging briefly, he selects one of the largest, grease towels.

Returning to his still-grease-laden friend, Mirage holds out the towel with an elegant flourish and a sly smirk. "Well? Have I earned the privilege of assisting further?" he inquires softly,

"Say the word, and I'll gladly help..."

"Trying to get in my pants again?" They ask teasingly before leaning back into the bot's touch, letting mirage help clean up the mess. Mirage chuckles low in his throat at the playful accusation, a hint of arousal mixing in with their humour.

"Guilty as charged." He flashes a roguish grin, azure optics dancing with mischief and desire.

"Can you blame me, though?" Holding their teasing gaze, Mirage leans in to press a kiss to their cheek, his cooling ex-vents puffing against plating still warm from work. "How could I resist such beauty, even coated in oil?"

Knockout

Knockout smirked as he leaned against the medical table, crossing his arms over his chassis. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite lovely little human in distress," he purred, his voice dripping with charm. " I'd ask what trouble you have gotten yourself into, but where's the fun in that? I'd much rather tease you a bit first."

He sauntered closer, his optics lingering "Now, how did this happen, darling? Neglecting proper care for these delicate human chest adornments? It's a shame, I happen to rather enjoy your little jewellery pieces" he chuckled, his tone laced with amusement.

They don't look impressed, looking away when knockout asks how it happened. "Went out on a mission ended up in mud and now they hurt '' they hiss under their breath. "Knockout please I just need some help. I'm not embarrassing myself by going to ask ratchet for help!" They hissed.

Knockout raised an optic ridge, slightly taken aback by the lack of enthusiasm from the human. He couldn't resist a chuckle at their stubbornness. "Oh, darling, you wound me," he replied, feigning a hurt expression. "But fear not, for I am here to help. No need to embarrass yourself."

They continue sitting there uncomfortably while knockout moves around grabbing what he needed. Knockout sets up a dish of salty water with a cloth. His optics flickered with focus as he set up the necessary supplies, preparing to tend to the infected piercings. He approached the human with a suave yet professional air, gesturing for them to remove their shirt so he could properly examine and treat the area.

"Now, now, don't be shy," he said smoothly, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "We've got to get a good look at those piercings if we want to fix them up, don't we?"

As the human complied, Knockout dipped the cloth into the dish of salty water, ensuring it was properly soaked. With a gentle touch, he began to clean the infected piercings, his movements precise and careful. "Try to relax," he advised with a soft, soothing tone. "I know it stings a bit, but trust me, you'll feel much better once we've taken care of this."

He continued to work, his optics focused on the task at hand, all the while maintaining a charming demeanour. Knockout couldn't help but let a small smile play on his lips as he worked his medic magic, determined to alleviate the human's discomfort and make them forget their initial reservations about seeking his help.

They sit there quietly avoiding knockouts gaze, as the medic continues cleaning the inflamed piercings. Knockout couldn't help but notice the human's avoidance of his gaze, their quietness speaking volumes. He continued to clean the inflamed piercings with utmost care, his touch gentle and precise. As he worked, he couldn't resist a small sigh, his usual charm momentarily fading.

"Look, I know I can come across a bit... overwhelming," he admitted, his voice softening. "But I want you to know that I genuinely care about your well-being. I may be a Decepticon, but that doesn't mean I can't be a good medic, and primus knows im not letting an infection get you my dear"

With a final, gentle touch, Knockout finished cleaning the piercings and set aside the cloth. He reached for the disinfectant and carefully applied it to the affected area, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Just a little more, and then we'll be done," he assured, his voice filled with sincerity. "You'll be feeling better in no time, I promise."

"Thanks and please don't tell everyone, don't need the whole base knowing about this" they state while motioning to the piercings.

Knockout flashed a charming smile as he applied the cream to alleviate the inflammation around the piercings. "Your secret is safe with me, my dear," he assured, his voice filled with sincerity. "As much as I enjoy a bit of gossip, I understand the importance of privacy, especially when it comes to matters like these."

He leaned in closer, his optics gleaming mischievously. "But remember, secrets have their price," he teased playfully. "Perhaps a dance or a playful conversation in the future can serve as payment for my discretion."

Straightening up, Knockout took a step back, admiring his handiwork. "There you go, all taken care of," he said, his tone gentle. "Just remember to keep an eye on them and follow the aftercare instructions I've given you. If there are any issues or if they don't improve, don't hesitate to come see me."

"I will thank you again, and I might give you that dance once they heal, but don't expect anything" they reply while pulling on their shirt again.

Knockout chuckled, his optics gleaming with amusement. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of expecting anything more than a dance, my dear," he replied with a sly smirk. "But who knows? Sometimes, unexpected connections can be quite delightful."

He watched as they pulled on their shirts, "When those piercings have fully healed, you know where to find me," he said, his voice filled with a mix of charm and sincerity. "I'd be more than happy to share a dance with you, no strings attached."

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